what’s happening here? We’ve waited so long for Brett to come back. You know how much Doc needs him, how much this town needs him. Doesn’t he know that?
The middle of Mitch and Anne’s party was no place for a confrontation. Still, she felt the rush of unasked questions pressing on her lips as if determined to get out.
She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. She’d known the instant Brett walked in that his presence meant trouble. She’d seen him and felt as if someone had punched her right in the heart.
She pushed the thought away. Her long-ago feelings for Brett had been childish adoration, that was all. Not love. She’d been a kid. She hadn’t known what love was.
Mitch Donovan had reached Brett, grabbing his hand to shake it, and Brett’s face lit with pleasure at the sight of his old friend. Rebecca took the opportunity to get a good look at Brett, one uncolored by shock at seeing him after all these years.
Some things hadn’t changed. His hair, the color of antique gold, still fell, unruly, over his broad forehead. Green-as-glass eyes warmed as he hugged Anne Morden, Mitch’s fiancée. He was taller and broader than she remembered—his shoulders filled out the dark wool blazer he wore—and his skin was still tanned, even though it was fall.
He still had that cleft chin, of course, and his smile was the one that had devastated the girls of Bedford Creek High. It had probably devastated quite a few women since, too.
Everyone wanted to talk to Brett, the local boy who’d made good. People were proud tiny Bedford Creek High had produced a graduate who’d gone to one of the best medical schools in the country, and Brett’s mother had never let an opportunity pass to tell people how well he’d been doing.
Rebecca could slip away, unnoticed, out of the range of that smile and the memories it evoked.
She crossed the center hall to the dining room, trying to concentrate on the buffet. The cherry table had all its leaves in to accommodate the food her mother had insisted on. The moment she’d learned Rebecca was going to be Anne’s bridesmaid, she’d begun planning the party, maybe considering it a trial run for the parties that would accompany Angela’s wedding next spring.
Rebecca checked the platters, listening to the buzz of conversation, and frowned a little. Was she the only one who noticed a faint shadow in Brett’s eyes when the subject of his Philadelphia residency came up? Maybe so. Or maybe she was imagining things in the flow of chatter and good humor and congratulations.
She’d thought at the time he took the residency that he should have come home instead. After all, Doc had helped Brett’s family pay for his medical-school education when they’d had a struggle to meet tuition payments. He’d helped other young people, too, but Brett was different. He’d always expected that one day Brett would take over his practice. They’d planned it together, and the only reason Rebecca knew was because she worked so closely with Doc.
But the years had slipped away. Whenever she brought it up, Doc was philosophical. Let Brett take the residency, he’d said. It would make him a better doctor when he did come back.
Well, now he was home, but apparently not to stay. Her throat tightened. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on his return until she saw him. How much longer could they continue at the clinic if he didn’t take over? The secret Doc insisted she keep weighed on her heart. If only she could share it with Brett—
“There you are.” Brett touched her arm, and the cake platter tilted in her grasp. He grabbed it, setting it down. “Anne sent me over to tell you to relax and enjoy the party. There’s plenty of food here. More fat and calories than this bunch should have in a month.”
She managed a smile. Keep it light. You can’t confront him here, so keep it light. “You’re back in Bedford Creek, remember? A party isn’t a success unless the hostess stuffs everyone.”
“Nobody serves crudités and yogurt dip?”
“Not unless they’re serving fudge and cookies with it.”
This was better, joking back and forth with Brett as if it were the old days, burying her worries about the clinic, about Doc, about the future. And ignoring the tingle of awareness his closeness brought. She had to keep things on this level for the moment.
She tried unobtrusively to move a step farther away. Ignoring his warmth and strength would be easier if he weren’t quite so close to her, close enough to smell a faint trace of spicy aftershave, close enough to see the gold flecks in his green eyes.
“Anne tells me you’re a bridesmaid in the wedding next month.”
She nodded. It was safe to talk about Anne. “We’ve gotten to be good friends since she moved here. She’s really someone special.” The secret of Emilie’s birth parents had brought Anne to Bedford Creek, but it was the love she’d found with Mitch that made her stay.
She looked at Anne, bending to disentangle Emilie’s tiny fingers from the bow of a present. She admired Anne’s cool urban elegance without wanting to be like her.
He followed the direction of her gaze. “They are happy, aren’t they?” He almost sounded as if he needed assurance.
“Of course.” Her surprise showed in her voice. “They’re perfect for each other. Don’t you think so?”
He glanced down at her. “Guess I never thought Mitch would settle down. But once he met the right woman, it was all over for him.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You make it sound like a prison sentence. Is that how you see marriage?”
“It is meant to be permanent.”
He looked back toward the other room, and she realized he was watching Alex Caine, the third member of the trio of friends. Alex, his lean face serious as always, stood back a little, leaning on the cane he sometimes had to use.
“Alex is doing better.” She answered the question he didn’t ask. Alex had barely survived a plane crash the year before, suffering a head injury that eventually healed and a shattered knee that still pained him. It was small wonder his friends worried about him.
Brett nodded. “Alex is tough—nobody knows that better than I do. He’ll be fine.” He focused on her. “So how come I haven’t heard about an engagement party for you? Guys must be standing in line.”
“In Bedford Creek?” She lifted her brows. “There aren’t enough eligible single guys to form a line.”
“Don’t give me that. You ought to be wearing a ring, too.”
She shook her head. “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s the way I like it, although I’ll never convince my mother. She’s eternally hopeful of getting both her daughters married off.”
“She must—” Brett interrupted himself to look down. “Did you know there was someone under the table?”
She bent, lifting the hem of the linen tablecloth. “Come out, Kristie. Come on, right now.”
A small, sticky hand closed around hers, and her niece slid out from under the table. Chocolate smeared Kristie’s hands and mouth.
“Who’s
