Return to Lone Oak (Harlequin Heartwarming) (4 page)

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she whispered, running her fingers over the heart. She made the decision, at that moment, to wear the necklace as much as she could. She actually liked it now. In fact, it was almost a match to her belly ring. She wondered if that had been some kind of subconscious thing on her part.

As Katie dug into the box again, to see if there was anything else of interest, she heard loud footsteps in the kitchen above from near the back door. Men’s footsteps, which told her her dad had come home for lunch.

But he wasn’t alone. If she wasn’t mistaken, there were two men up there. She wandered back out to the other room.

“Are you expecting someone?” she asked Claudia, who was hunched next to Savannah and Allie as they flipped the pages of an old photo album.

Claudia looked up, belatedly noticed the noise upstairs and stood. “Oh, my goodness. Yes. Your dad was bringing someone by to look at the house.”

Already? “That was fast. How did anyone even find out about it so quickly?”

“It’s Wednesday in Lone Oak, Katie dearest,” Savannah said. “Newspaper day. If you’d been up in time to look through it, you’d know there’s an ad in there for the house.”

Katie stuck out her tongue at her sister.

Claudia was making her way to the kitchen. “Allie, Logan. Why don’t you kids come up and play outside while we have guests.”

Logan ran up the stairs noisily. Allie looked at Savannah. “I’d rather stay down here with you.”

“That’s fine, sweetie.”

“Wonder who the circling shark is,” Katie said, touching the locket around her neck.

“No idea. Why don’t you go check it out?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be gone when people go through the house?”

Savannah shrugged, still going through the pages of an old picture album. “Look how cute you were. What happened?”

“Aww,” Allie said. “That’s Aunt Katie?”

“When she was brand, spanking new. Look at that red face.”

Katie walked a few steps closer to see the photograph. Her mom lay in the delivery-room bed, holding a tiny baby bundled in a pink and yellow blanket. “I was cute. Still am, much to your mother’s dismay,” she said to Allie. “I’m going to investigate. Maybe I can scare away the potential buyer.”

“I have no doubt you probably can,” Savannah said with a grin. “I’ll just be down here slaving away.”

Katie rushed up the stairs. She could hear her dad’s voice, along with another one, in the living room. A vaguely familiar voice that she couldn’t quite place.

When she poked her head around the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, the mystery was solved. The shark was none other than Dr. Fletcher, of the grumpy younger variety.

“Hello, Katie,” he said. “I wondered if you two were related.”

“Katie’s my youngest daughter,” her dad explained. “You two know each other?”

“Dr. Fletcher had to resew my stitches yesterday.”

“Resew them?” her dad asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing much,” Katie said. “I fell while I was skating. Popped the old ones.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m on my own health-care plan. What did it matter?”

Her dad stared at her, speechless. “I just would’ve thought getting stitches warranted a small mention.”

“I wasn’t in a talkative mood last night. Be sure he tells you all about the leak in the ceiling of my sister’s room,” she said to Dr. Fletcher before heading outside to see what her nephew was up to.

“It’s all in the disclosures, dear daughter of mine.”

“Perfect. Then there won’t be any problems.” Katie walked out without saying goodbye.

Too bad she didn’t really believe that. She was having a serious problem with the idea of Dr. Fletcher—or anyone else—living in
her
space. She’d known last night there was nothing else she could do. She even understood her dad’s reasoning and could admit it made sense.

But for all the telling herself everything would work out fine, she was sure having a big problem believing it.

CHAPTER THREE

J
OGGING
WAS
A
SORRY
substitute
for the rock climbing Katie normally indulged in when something was bothering her or when she simply wanted some exercise. The thing about rock climbing was that not only did it give her a great workout, but she had to concentrate fully on what she was doing the whole time. Jogging, not so much.

Running didn’t occupy her mind and it didn’t allow her to forget her problems. But something about the pounding of her feet on the paved trail at least gave her the illusion she was working off steam. The path wound along the riverbank, hugging its curves, and it was shaded by towering trees on both sides. But the beauty and serenity were lost on Katie at the moment.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself to speed up. She glanced at her sports watch as she spotted another mile marker and realized she was keeping better than an eight-minute-mile pace. She very rarely ran and she knew she’d pay for this tomorrow. No matter how in shape she was, jogging always made her hurt in places she’d forgotten she had muscles. She pressed on anyway.

After she’d gone three miles, she dropped to a walk while she caught her breath. The running wasn’t making her feel much better at all.

A giant boulder jutting out over the riverbank tempted her. She couldn’t resist climbing onto it to watch the lazy water. And breathe.

The trail was mostly deserted this evening, which was fine by her.

Katie fiddled with a pile of small stones that someone had left atop the boulder. She sat and watched as a pair of swallows swooped down to skim the water’s placid surface.

Four miles and she still couldn’t get the loss of her mother’s home out of her mind. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat. She’d been teetering between burning anger and deep sadness for the past twenty-four hours and the swing of emotions was exhausting.

She reached for the pendant that hung against her collarbone, running her fingers over it lovingly.

The sound of another person coming down the trail drifted into her consciousness. She straightened a bit, picked up one of the stones and skimmed it out onto the water as the jogger neared her spot.

Something made her turn to look. Recognition reflected in his eyes at the same moment it hit her.

“Katie?” He came to a stop at her rock.

“Dr. Fletcher.” The T-shirt he wore—white, with a red Medical Missions emblem on the chest—revealed a set of biceps and pecs that up until now had been unseen. She would’ve noticed
those,
she thought distractedly.

“Call me Noah,” he said, propping one foot on the far edge of her rock. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “You’re a ways from home.”

The mere mention of home was enough to make his muscles cease to matter. “Home seems to be a relative term these days.” She couldn’t help the unfriendliness in her voice. Didn’t want to.

He glanced down the trail, then looked back at her as if he were making a decision. “Mind if I join you for a minute? I could use a rest.”

She shrugged and moved over on the rock. “You’re not even out of breath. I take it you run a lot,” she said, looking out over the water.

“Every day. Sometimes twice.”

That was fitting. “Weights?” She glanced at his arm muscles again, then dragged her gaze back to his face, noticing the angles of his jaw and his sandy five-o’clock shadow.

“Some. You?”

Katie shook her head.

“Weights aren’t exciting enough?” There was a hint of disapproval in his voice.

“Got something against excitement?”

He looked directly into her eyes for the first time since he’d stopped. “It depends on the circumstances.”

She skipped another stone before Noah helped himself to the pile between them and sent one of his own skimming—three jumps—after hers. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated, then skimmed another, frowning when it refused to go more than three skips.

“You run much?” he asked.

“Only when I can’t do something better.”

“What would you rather do?”

“Climb rocks.”

“I can see why that wouldn’t work right now.” He glanced at her cast.

“You going to buy our house?”

“I’m thinking pretty hard about it. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“It’s too big for you.”

“How do you know I don’t have a family?”

“You don’t have that gets-along-well-with-others look about you. And also no ring.”

Noah stared at her for several seconds, considering whether to argue, then deciding to ignore the insult. He couldn’t help noticing her profile was well-proportioned—full lips, dainty nose, thick lashes. A small but deep scar marred the left side of her forehead, the only imperfection in her smooth-looking skin. He was afraid to guess what had caused it. She needed to take better care of herself.

“I want to see the house again.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. Between that brief look just now and her comment about the leaky ceiling when he’d gone through the house, he was starting to suspect she didn’t want him to buy her dad’s home. He couldn’t worry about that, though. Moving out of his parents’ place was a priority; he had to do it while he still got along with them. If he decided the Salinger house was the best for him, Katie would just have to get used to the idea.

Noah climbed down onto the path and bent to tie a lace that was loose.

Katie sent another small smooth stone skipping over the water before jumping from the high end of the boulder down to the dirt—a good four-foot drop. He cringed, thinking about her numerous injuries.

“You heading back?” she asked, slapping the dust off her hands.

When he straightened, he took in her tight, flat stomach—revealed between spandex running shorts and a hot pink sports bra—and the piercing of her navel. He struggled to pry his eyes away from it, tried not to think about how that delicate piece of jewelry was capturing his attention as none had before.

“It’s an amethyst and a heart,” she said.

“What?”

“Aren’t you staring at my belly ring?”

“No.” Yes.

“So... Coming or not?”

He considered going another mile, which was what he normally did, but he’d lost momentum sitting here. It’d be dark soon.

“Why not.” He gestured to the path toward the city park and Katie started running. In front of him. He tried to ignore the way she looked in running shorts that revealed long, muscular legs.

They jogged for a few minutes without speaking. The only sound was the pounding of their feet on the pavement.

“How can you stand to run so much? Twice a day?” Katie asked finally, breathing hard.

“Want to slow down?”

“No. That’s not what I mean. Just... It’s monotonous and painful and possibly the most boring exercise on the face of the earth.”

“You adjust to the pain—and running can be meditative. It keeps me from thinking too much.”

“Ah.” She nodded, hesitated, and he thought she was trying to catch her breath. “Africa?”

He faltered, lost his footing, jarred by the mere mention of it. Most people didn’t have any notion of what he’d been through. The few who did didn’t have the nerve to bring it up, and that was the way he preferred it. “What do you know about Africa?”

She’d slowed, too, and now she stared at him. “Not much. I’ve just heard stories floating around.”

He wished he could tell the women at the clinic not to discuss his past or his personal life without coming off as a pompous jerk. “It’s not much of a feel-good story.”

“I heard you got shot.”

His blood turned cold, but he forced himself to pick up his pace. “Yeah.”

The seconds stretched out and Noah fought to keep his mind blank, using all his mental energy to push away those images before they took over.

“Just...yeah?” Katie asked.

He nodded.

“Is that an ‘I don’t want to talk about it’?”

“You catch on quickly.” He wished he hadn’t stopped when he’d seen her.

“I noticed the scar on your leg, when you were sitting next to me. It looks bullet-sized. Or what I would guess is bullet-sized, since I don’t have a lot of experience with bullets making holes in legs. Am I right?”

“If I answer that question, will you let the whole thing drop?”

“For now.”

Now was all that mattered to him, because he had no intention of spending more time with her. “Yes. I was shot in the back of the leg by a group of insurgents. What you saw was an exit wound.”

“Wow. Did you...”

“You said you’d drop it.”

“Sorry. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s been shot.”

Even that brief exchange put his nerves on edge. The tension in his shoulders and neck increased at least another ten notches and his body moved stiffly.

A few minutes later, Noah had loosened up somewhat. He’d gotten good at ignoring everything other than the simple act of running, at turning his thoughts off all the way.

As they approached the park, Katie let out a loud whoop, startling him out of his tentative calm. She bent forward dramatically, stretching and feigning exhaustion. Or possibly not feigning at all. Her face was pink and she gasped for breath.

Noah went through his usual cool-down routine, walking in circles, gradually slowing his pace, stretching his back. The sun had fallen below the horizon, but the sky still held the last bits of light, forming a dark silhouette along the tops of the trees. Crickets chirped their summer song, luring him further into calmness.

Noises over in the playground attracted his attention. Katie grabbed hold of the merry-go-round, pushing it in a circle as she ran around the outside. When she’d picked up speed, she hopped on then sprawled on her back, feet toward the center, head on the outside edge. Her hair blew over the side, flying behind her.

Noah stood there, staring. What he really wanted to do was walk directly to his Tahoe SUV and drive home. But there were no other vehicles in the parking lot, so it appeared Katie might need a ride. He hadn’t been raised to leave a woman alone in a park at sundown.

He took his time reaching the playground area, watching her spin as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He couldn’t relate at all to the concept.

“You’re slowing down,” he said when he reached the moving merry-go-round.

She laughed as she whirled past, then pulled herself up with her good arm and stuck out a foot to stop. Standing, she eyed him, her smile fading. “I don’t suppose you want to go for a ride?” She started running in a circle again, jumped on the same way she had before, and was lying down before Noah could blink.

He couldn’t imagine himself running wild like that. He took a step back, waiting for her to slow down.

“Actually, I came over here to ask if you want a ride home.”

She didn’t answer right away. When the thing had nearly stopped spinning and Noah’s patience had just about run out, she sat up.

“No, thanks. I’m going to go for a few more spins and then I’ll walk home.”

“You were ready to collapse ten minutes ago. You’ve got a broken wrist. You shouldn’t push yourself anymore.”

“You sound like a doctor.”

The way she said it made it obvious that it wasn’t a compliment. Noah wondered why he was wasting his time.

“Have it your way. Good night.” He headed to the parking lot, thankful, after all, that she’d turned him down and he could drive home alone.

* * *

L
ATER
THAT
NIGHT
, the house was so quiet, Katie thought she might climb the walls. Her dad and stepmom had gone to bed a few hours earlier. She’d flipped through a couple hundred channels on satellite TV and had found nothing that held her interest for longer than a minute. Then she’d dropped by Lindsey and Zach’s house, next door, but it was clear they wanted to go to bed, so she left.

She sat at the kitchen table tapping her fingers on the surface. Seconds later she jumped up and opened the refrigerator, but she didn’t see anything appealing in there. Remembering she’d left her laptop in the living room earlier, she retrieved it and returned to the kitchen table, plugging it into the phone outlet.

When she had a connection, she opened her browser and checked all her usual sites—mostly bulletin boards for extreme sports enthusiasts—cursing the pokiness of dial-up internet. She wasn’t tempted to participate in any online discussions, so she headed to her in-box and sifted through her emails, answering a couple of them. She’d never thought about how many of her emails were work-related before. Now that she was on leave, her traffic had slowed way down—just when she needed interaction and conversation the most.

Katie grabbed a box of fish-shaped crackers from the cupboard and then parked herself back at the table.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, she found herself entering “Dr. Noah Fletcher” in a search engine and waiting nervously to see what popped up. Even though she had no earthly reason to be nervous.

Several links appeared and Katie paused, asking herself what she was doing. Between having Noah threaten to buy the house and seeing the evidence of him having been shot, her curiosity was piqued and then some. Still...she debated closing the browser.

Nah. What fun would that be?

She clicked on the first entry and the website for Medical Missions loaded. An article detailing the organization’s efforts in the Democratic Republic of the Congo appeared and Katie began to read it, shuddering at the description of the situation in central Africa. She skimmed the article, looking for a mention of Noah Fletcher, but didn’t see one. Then she noticed the photo. Was that him? She clicked to enlarge it and read the caption.

“Dr. Noah Fletcher arrives at the Medical Missions camp carrying a malnourished ten-year-old girl who’d been severely beaten. Dr. Fletcher was shot in the leg during an altercation with rebel forces but still managed to carry the young girl to safety.”

Now that Katie looked again, she could tell it was him, but he was in such bad shape. Dirty. Exhausted. Eyes glazed with terror. No wonder, though.

Katie sat and stared, feeling more than a little shell-shocked herself. Her mind spun with the possibilities of what might have happened to him. The journalist in her wanted to know more. Why had they shot him? How had he rescued the girl? Who would hurt such a young child?