Have Gown, Need Groom (19 page)

“I changed my mind. I want you.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. “Then follow me.”

He cleared his throat and did as she said, glancing around the small exam room, remembering the first time they’d met. He’d thought she looked like an angel.

Now, she was looking at him as if she would murder him.

“Lie down on the table.”

He nodded. “I—I’d like to talk to you if you have time.”

“Lower your pants, please.”

Judging from the icy tone of her voice, not exactly an invitation, he thought ruefully.

She slipped on plastic gloves and searched the medical tray for an instrument while he humbled himself on the paper-draped exam table. When he was settled, she walked toward him, no hint of emotion or personal feelings evident.

“This shouldn’t take long. You may feel a slight sting but it shouldn’t hurt.” With that said, she pressed a gloved hand on his hip and began to yank out the stitches, none too gently.

He gritted his teeth, knowing he deserved her anger. “Hannah—”

“It’s Dr. Hartwell.”

“Hannah,” he said between clenched teeth, “I want you to know how sorry I am if I hurt you.”

The tweezers pressed into his skin as she yanked another stitch. “I’m assuming you’re leaving town.”

This wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped. “I’m heading back to Atlanta, yes.” He tried to prop on his hand and angle himself to look at her. “But I don’t want to leave with things so rocky between us.”

“Rocky?”

“Tense,” he said. “I really want to see you again.”

“That won’t be necessary.” She pulled out the last stitch, wiped his healed wound with a gauze pad and stepped away. “Your injury is healed. I can’t think of any reason you’d return to Sugar Hill.”

“To see you.”

She gave him a scathing look. He rolled farther to his side and reached for her hand, but she crossed her arms and simply stared at him. “Hannah, please. Can we go someplace and talk? Have some coffee maybe?”

“We have nothing to talk about.” Her eyes narrowed. “That is, unless you have to ask me more questions about my dad—”

“No, I want to talk about us.”

“There is no us.” Her beautiful blue eyes stared at him, emotionless. “So go back to Atlanta, Mr. Tippins, where you belong.” She gave him one last cutting look. “You know I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for you for being alone. Now I understand why you are.”

Jake’s heart cracked as she turned and walked out the door. She closed it behind her as if she’d closed the door permanently on any hope for a future between them.

Chapter Twenty-One

A week later, Jake roamed the streets of Atlanta, trying to put the Hartwell family out of his mind. Especially Hannah.

The case was solved, all the stolen cars accounted for, DeLito and his accomplice Buffy were both in jail awaiting trial. Things were back to normal.

Quiet, dull, lonely normal.

Only Jake had never been lonely before. Alone yes. But never lonely.

Not the deep sort of lonely that had kept him awake at night, had made him think about the Hartwell Thanksgiving, all the silly traditions they had at Christmas, the freshly cut tree trimmed in homemade ornaments, the woman who’d tried to make him homemade rolls then lied to impress him.

A hundred stars twinkled above him in the inky sky, reminding him of the Christmas star Hannah had given him. He found the North Star, then searched the sky for other constellations, desperately trying to erase her from his mind. Snow clouds were nowhere in sight, although record cold temperatures ranged throughout the south. The coldest December Atlanta had ever seen, the coldest Jake had ever felt in his life.

Christmas decorations glittered from the shops, music drifted from speakers, inviting people in to warm their hands and browse. Cars and holiday shoppers ripped past, everyone in a holiday frenzy.

But Jake had nowhere to go. And no one waiting for him when he arrived home.

He’d wanted the anonymity of the crowd, the isolation, yet now that he had it, even in the midst of the busy street, the emptiness echoed around him. Hannah hadn’t wanted him.

She’d walked out of the hospital room that day and no matter how many times he’d called over the next few days she hadn’t answered. She’d left him as easily as his mother had.

No, he reminded himself. Hannah was nothing like his mother. Her hesitancy to make love for one thing. She’d even told him she didn’t give herself freely, yet she’d given herself to him. Because she loved him—that would be the only reason for a woman like Hannah to finally let herself be taken by a man.

Hope flickered briefly, sparking his determination to win her back again. An antique shop drew his eye, reminding him of the furnishings in Hannah’s house. Old lace doilies, period pieces of rich oak and mahogany, a tapestry rug that might have fitted in her foyer. Next door, he spied another shop. A toy shop—no, a specialty shop, a shop full of dolls.

He vividly recalled the collection in Hannah’s bedroom—he’d briefly paused to study them that morning when he’d risen, before he’d read those blasted files.

Maybe his guilt would leave him if he had some closure, if he bought her a gift of apology, a little something to prove that he hadn’t just used her, that his feelings for her were real.

Hunching his shoulders against the wind, he dug his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket and threaded his way through the crowd until he could slide through the doorway. The smell of apple cider and cinnamon warmed the air, the sounds of children’s laughter and Christmas music drifting through the crowded shop. Rows and rows of frilly dolls filled the store—soft sculptured dolls, antiques, replicas of movie stars, characters from movies, baby dolls, Cabbage Patch Kids dolls, dolls unlike any he’d ever seen. A beautiful bride doll stood enclosed in a case, similar to the one Hannah had perched on that gold chest at the foot of her bed. Then his gaze found the storybook dolls Hannah collected. He wandered past, grinning at a little girl hugging a Raggedy Ann to her chest, and stopped at the shelves, mentally ticking away the ones Hannah already owned. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Goldilocks, Dorothy.

The Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion stood beside Dorothy and he suddenly grinned, thinking how he’d loved the characters as a child. If he had the courage to risk rejection, the heart to tell her how he really felt, could he and Hannah make a marriage work? Even though he knew nothing at all about families, could they be a family, the way she and her wacky father and her sisters were?

Without thinking twice, he made his selections and headed to the front. He’d box them up and send them to Hannah with a note, an apology that would let her know he hadn’t forgotten her. He glanced up at the Christmas tree in the corner and saw the gleaming star radiating its light—and he thought of the star Hannah had given him, of the North Star he’d been taught to use to guide him home.

He suddenly, desperately, wanted a home with Hannah.

H
ANNAH CRAWLED
into bed, exhausted and alone. Memories of Jake lingered in her house, in her heart, in her mind, keeping her awake long into the night. When she finally slept, she dreamt Jake was lying beside her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, telling her to take a chance, not to be afraid.

She jerked awake and sat up, staring into the darkness, shivering with the cool temperature in the house. She hugged her arms around her chest, wishing she could get warm, but she’d been chilled to the bone ever since Jake had walked away. Disgusted with herself, she slipped from bed, dragged on her thick terry cloth robe and stared at the bride doll sitting perched on the hope chest—the beautiful heirloom piece which her grandmother had meant to bring happiness.

But the legend associated with the pearl ring had brought her nothing but heartache.

She pulled the ring from her finger, stared at the tiny diamonds, the intricate setting, frowning at her earlier thoughts. Had the ring and the legend really brought her heartache or had it been her own fault? Her own insecurity? She had been afraid to take a chance, to branch out and try a relationship with someone who didn’t fit the picture-perfect mold. But look what had happened when she’d taken the chance. When she had followed her heart. She’d been hurt, used, abandoned.

She quickly placed the ring back inside the small velvet box and packed it into the hope chest with the blue garter. She wrapped the bride doll carefully back inside, then enclosed her grandmother’s bridal gown within the velvet-lined walls. She hoped that Jake’s memory would be locked away as well.

J
AKE WAS GOING CRAZY
. His old apartment seemed even more bare and lonely than his place in Sugar Hill had. He couldn’t stop thinking of Hannah for more than five seconds at a time. He’d even gotten himself a dog.

A roly-poly overactive little puppy from his partner’s chocolate labrador’s latest litter. He’d named him Toby after Toby Tyler, a little boy he’d seen in an old movie on cable when he’d stayed up watching the late show because he couldn’t sleep.

The fat pup nipped at his feet and Jake picked him up, laughing when the dog licked his face. What would Hannah think about the furball? What would a little boy, maybe his own son, think of the pet? Would Hannah take it as a sign he was ready to settle down?

No way to find out but to call. For the third time that day, he picked up the phone and punched in her number.

H
ANNAH LAY
stretched across her bed, exhausted, fighting a headache. The ER had been crazy all day and she hadn’t slept the night before for thinking about Jake. She’d been hard on him that last day when he’d come to have his stitches removed. And she’d refused his calls all week. Was she wrong not to give him a chance? Should they try and talk things through?

The phone rang. Her head was pounding so hard she couldn’t bear to answer it and talk to anyone, especially her overconcerned family. But, knowing it might be the ER, she rolled sideways and reached for the handset. The answering machine clicked on, and she paused when she heard Jake’s voice.

“Hannah, it’s me again.” A pause. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days and…I guess you’re still upset.” Another pause. His breath filled the line, a little unsteady. “I just wanted you to know I still want to talk, that I’m sorry. And…oh, I got a dog. A little chocolate lab pup. His name is Toby.”

He paused again. “Well, give me a call if you want to talk.”

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut to stem the tears as the phone clicked into silence. Why had Jake called? Just to say he was sorry; to tell her he’d gotten a dog?

Chapter Twenty-Two

“What are you doing here?”

Jake grimaced. He hadn’t expected Wiley to greet him with open arms, but he…well, hell. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Had Hannah told him about their relationship?

Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets, eyeing Wiley’s Santa suit. “I…we need to talk.”

Wiley tugged on his beard, scratching at the puffy white cottony mass. “I thought your business here was finished.”

“Look, Wiley, I know you’re probably mad I didn’t come clean with you up front, but—”

“You thought I might be the head of the theft ring, didn’t you?”

“At first,” Jake admitted.

“At least you’re not lying about that.”

“I’m done with lies.” Jake poured himself a cup of coffee simply to have something to do.

“I can forgive you for thinking I might be guilty,” Wiley said, glaring at Jake. “But you suspected my daughters might be involved.”

“I had to check out everyone,” Jake said. “That was my job, Wiley.”

Wiley studied him, his frown at odds with the jovial costume he wore. “You hurt my daughter, son. Hannah didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.” Jake’s chest tightened, his legs feeling a little wobbly. “That’s why I’m here. I’d like to make things right.”

“How do you think you can do that?”

“I…” The red outfit complete with shiny black boots and a big bag for gifts suddenly gave him an idea. “I want to talk to Hannah. Apologize. Grovel.”

“Groveling might work.” The corner of Wiley’s fake white mustache twitched. “What makes you believe she’ll listen?”

Jake folded his arms across his chest. “Because I think she loves me.”

Wiley’s fake white eyebrows wagged. “And how do you feel about her?”

“That’s what I’d like to talk to Hannah about, sir.” Jake took a deep breath, then explained his plan.

H
ANNAH WALKED
through the corridors of the ER to the hospital lobby, well aware gossip trailed her every step. Her canceled wedding had only lit the fuse, beginning an explosion of fiery rumors that had escalated with the shakedown that had occurred at her father’s car lot.

So much for the tame, subdued lifestyle she’d planned.

Life holds no guarantees, Grammy Rose had said. Laughing at the irony, she tossed her head, trying to seem oblivious to the stares from the nurses on the floor. In a few minutes, the Christmas party for the kids would start and she wanted to be there. She spotted the Broadhursts exiting the elevator and took a deep breath. Seth followed.

The minute he saw her, he waved her over, but the chief of staff caught him in the hall, postponing the dreaded meeting. She’d known Seth had wanted to talk since that night with Mimi, but she hadn’t been able to face him yet.

What if he wanted a reconciliation? In her heart, she knew she didn’t love him. She cared for him, admired him both as a friend and as a doctor, but Seth deserved a woman’s total love and commitment. Something she couldn’t offer.

Because her heart belonged to another man.

Damn Jake Tippins.

Her reprieve ended when Seth strode toward her. She watched the Broadhursts follow Dr. Porter to the atrium and wondered what they were scheming.

“Hannah, we need to talk.” Seth gently clutched her arm and guided her to the open area where she noticed a large portion of the hospital staff had gathered, probably to help with the Christmas party. Dr. Porter stood at the forefront, the Broadhursts frowning as they settled on a love seat adjacent to the small microphone.

Microphone? What in the world…?

“Seth, what’s going on?” Had he somehow arranged her dismissal?

No, Seth wouldn’t….

Seth leaned close to her as if to guard their conversation. “Hannah, I care about you, you know that, don’t you?”

Her stomach twisted. “Yes, and I care about you, but—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Let me finish. I admit I was shocked and a little hurt when you called off our wedding.”

Hannah reached for his arm and squeezed his hand. “Seth, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

Quiet understanding filled his eyes. “I know. And I still think of you as a dear friend. In fact, I realize now you were right. We are friends and always will be, but we shouldn’t have gotten married. I’m glad you were smart enough to figure that out before we both made a big mistake.”

“Then you don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you. I really do care about you, Hannah,” Seth said in a sincere tone. “And I want you to be happy.”

Hannah’s eyes teared up but she blinked back the emotions. “You’re a great guy, Seth. Someday you’re going to find a woman who deserves you. I hope I’m around to congratulate her.”

He drew her into his arms and hugged her. “Thanks, Hannah. I feel the same way about you.” He gestured toward the crowd. “And now, I plan to put a stop to all these stupid rumors.”

Hannah pointed to the podium. “You called everyone together?”

“You’re damned right. I’m sick of everyone saying I’ve been meditating with a bunch of nude snake charmers. I’m going to set the record straight right now, and I’m going to make sure my nosy parents stay out of our lives from now on.”

Hannah reached up and kissed him on the cheek, smiling as he strode toward the mike.

J
AKE STOOD
in the shadows of the corridor, hiding behind a cart full of flowers and potted plants, his confidence rocking as he watched Hannah and Seth cuddle together in the hall. He hadn’t been gone a whole week yet, and Broadhurst had already tried to crawl back into Hannah’s good graces.

But
he
was the man she’d climbed into bed with and he didn’t intend to let her bounce back and fall into another man’s arms. At least not without knowing exactly how she felt.

Sneaking a peak at the Santa costume he’d confiscated from Wiley, he grimaced, wondering if his idea had been a little on the lame side. He wasn’t sure he could play Santa, had never even been around kids much, but he’d thought if Hannah saw him in a Santa suit she might see the good side of him and even forgive him. He wanted her to teach him about family and raising kids.

And he’d come bearing gifts. Both for the kids’ Christmas party, which was the reason Wiley had been dressed as Santa in the first place, and for Hannah, the dolls he’d bought and brought with him.

Another lame tactic, but hell, he was only a man and he’d stoop to anything to win another chance with Hannah. Hefting the heavy burlap sack over his shoulder, he adjusted the padding in his belly, hiked up his red velvet Santa pants and headed to the children’s rec room for the party.

H
ANNAH HELPED
settle the twenty-plus children into the children’s rec room, adjusting IVs and wheelchairs for the in-house patients, gathering the less severely ill kids on the floor in front of the others. Several nurses and doctors from the pediatric floor along with volunteers and parents filled the room for the annual event. The decorations the children had made hung from the ceiling: glittery stars, strings of red and green paper garland, candy canes and snowmen danced above them. An artificial tree adorned with lights and childlike wooden ornaments stood in a corner, its branches spilling over with tinsel, small gifts for the children stacked beneath.

Laughter and excited voices drifted around her, helping Hannah forget her earlier worries.

“Dr. Hannah,” a little blond girl on crutches said, “is Santa Claus really coming?”

“That’s what I heard,” Hannah said with a wide grin.

One of the volunteers played the piano while a cancer specialist burst out in song to lead the children. Soon the crowd joined in singing a litany of Christmas tunes, including the children’s favorites,
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
and
Frosty the Snowman.

Finally, the head of pediatrics stood up and clapped her hands. “How about some refreshments, kids?”

The children yelled an emphatic yes. Simon, a small boy in a wheelchair, raised his hand as the volunteers passed out paper cups full of punch and plates of Christmas cookies. “When is Santa coming?”

Laughter sparkled in the pediatrician’s eyes. “As a matter of fact, I think I hear him now. Just listen.” She cupped her hand to her ear and the room grew quiet, the children all leaning forward in anticipation.

Hannah glanced at the door, expecting to see her dear father bound through any minute.

“Ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas!” Santa Claus suddenly appeared, jingle bells ringing, boots stomping, his voice ringing out through the room.

Only the voice didn’t belong to her father.

Hannah gasped in surprise when she recognized Jake’s dark eyes twinkling from beneath a Santa hat that had flopped over his forehead, his voice slightly muffled through the thick white beard.

“Jake?” she mouthed.

He grinned, a lopsided sexy-Santa grin that sent a shiver up her spine.

The children all clapped and yelled. “Santa Claus is here!”

“Look at his big belly!”

“He’s got boots!”

“And presents!”

“Is your beard real?”

Jake gave his beard a yank, playing along with the children, then sailed through the crowd shouting, “Merry Christmas.” He stopped to pat and shake the children’s hands, bending to their level so he could greet each one, then pulled a gift from the burlap sack and placed it in their eager hands.

“And this one’s for you,” he said to Simon with a wink. “And here’s to the pretty princess on her throne,” he said, stooping to place a long box in the hands of a tiny little girl in a wheelchair.

Hannah’s eyes misted over. He was supposed to give out the gifts from beneath the tree, but her father had obviously bought extra gifts, or maybe Jake had. Whatever the reason, the children squealed with delight as they opened the packages, parents and staff members roaming about to help and admiring the generous gifts and gathering the discarded wrapping paper. When his sack seemed empty, Hannah handed him the smaller presents from beneath the trees, packages filled with art paper and crayons for each of the kids, and Jake passed those out as well.

Tammy, a toddler who’d recently broken her leg when she’d jumped from a table pretending to fly like a superhero, wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck. “Thank you, Santa. I wuv you.”

Hannah saw Jake hug the little girl. “And I love you, too.”

Her throat felt suddenly full of emotions. Jake might not know it, but he’d make a wonderful father. He gazed up and looked at her, the smile in his eyes so meaningful it took her breath away.

He gently eased away from the toddler. “I have a present here for one of your doctors, too,” he said.

“Who?” the little girl shouted.

“Let’s see!” some of the other kids yelled.

Jake moved toward Hannah, the heat flaring in his eyes obviously meant only for her. When he’d maneuvered through the crowded room, Hannah sensed all the children and volunteers and other doctors watching.

“Being Santa,” Jake said, patting his red-velvet padded belly for emphasis so the kids laughed, “I have it on good authority that Dr. Hartwell once was a kid herself. A kid who collected dolls. But one year she forgot about those childish dreams and packed away her dolls.”

“That’s sad,” the little girl in the wheelchair said.

“Well, Santa’s here, hoping he can make Dr. Hartwell believe in dreams again.”

“Yeah!” the children shouted.

“And Santa has a gift, something to add to her collection.”

Hannah’s pulse raced. Did Jake know she’d packed up the dolls and planned to give them away?

He pulled a box from his sack and handed it to Hannah. She stared at the package, wondering why Jake had chosen to bring her a doll after the way they’d parted. Could he possibly have changed his mind about the two of them?

Then she remembered his phone call about the dog and the conversation with her grandmother and Mimi on Thanksgiving, when he’d claimed he wasn’t a settle-down guy, didn’t even own a dog. Was the pet a symbol he was ready to settle down? She’d thought him a big fearless man, but she knew his family history—had he been just as afraid of love as she had?

“Open it!” the little girl in the wheelchair shouted.

“Yeah, let’s see!” the other kids yelled.

“Please open it, doc,” Jake said softly.

Hannah’s fingers trembled as she slipped them beneath the bright green paper and tore the edges. The paper fell away, and she lifted the lid of the box to find not one, but two dolls inside.

“The Tin Man from the
Wizard of Oz,
” she whispered, holding the doll up for the children to see.

Oohs and aahs filled the room.

“We’re off to see the wizard,” the children began to sing.

“And the Cowardly Lion.” As she lifted the doll, she stared into Jake’s eyes, questioning, yearning for an explanation.

Jake cleared his throat, his gaze locked with hers, his expression part embarrassment, part mischief. He addressed her and the children, “You kids remember the story of the
Wizard of Oz
?”

“Yeah, the Tin Man wanted a heart.”

“And the Lion wanted courage.”

“We’re off to see the wizard,” they began to chant the song again.

Jake pressed his hand over his heart, his gaze full of emotions. “You have the Dorothy doll so I thought you should add these to the collection.”

Hannah’s eyes searched his.

“When the Lion and the Tin Man met Dorothy, they weren’t whole. She helped them find the parts they were missing. Doc, you helped me find my heart, you helped me realize that it was empty without you. And you helped me see that all I needed was the courage to love someone and I would be whole.”

“Jake—”

“He’s Santa Claus!” Simon shouted.

“You also gave me a Christmas star so I could find my way home.” He dropped to his knee and took her hand in his, kissing the top of her hand gently. Hannah’s breath caught. The children giggled, along with the other doctors and volunteers.

“But Jake, it’s too late, too much—”

He urged her to see the truth in his eyes. “Please Hannah. I followed that star and it led me back here. I want that home with you. I love you.” He kissed her hand again.