Teardrop Lane (20 page)

“They’re depending on me. The Parnells are depending on me. I gave my word to my dying sister that I’d bankroll the kids. I won’t let them down. I need to win this blasted competition, and the pressure is making me a little crazy, but that’s not what I want to tell you. I want to tell you that I’m sorry I ran out on you tonight and this afternoon, and I could promise not to ever do it again, but I probably couldn’t keep that promise. Not
all the time, anyway. You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.

“The main thing I want to tell you is that you matter to me. You matter to me more than any other woman I’ve been with. I don’t know what that means or where if anywhere it could lead. I’m in uncharted waters here. What I do know is that I want to keep sailing. I’m probably not a good bet, but I’m asking you to give us—give me—another chance. You matter to me, Rose.”

At his use of her name, she turned her head. He felt the weight of her stare.

“I think I’ve figured out the name thing,” she said. “Most people use nicknames as terms of endearments. You use them to hold people at arm’s length, don’t you?”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever given the question any thought. I’m not that deep a thinker.”

“Actually, I suspect you’re one of the deepest thinkers who has ever crossed my path.” She scooted from the center of the swing to one side.

“Sit down, Hunter.”

He relaxed just a little and took a seat beside her.

“After I moved my stuff into this bedroom, I went down to the beach and walked along the edge of the water for a little while. The sound of the surf calmed me. I was able to think again, and not just react. I’d like to explain why I got so angry tonight.”

“You had every right to be angry.”

“Yes, I did. You were a total jerk, but you are also an artist. I understand artists. Medicine is an art. My ex was a brilliant surgeon, but I very seldom came first for him. I understood it. I even encouraged it. Frankly, my career was important to me, too, and it took priority for me more often than not. In hindsight, I regret that. I regret that more than I can possibly put into words.”

“Because your relationship failed?”

“No.” She leaned back in the swing and paused in reflection. “You know that old saying that youth is wasted on the young? Well, I’m the poster child for that. Five years ago—no, it’s closer to six, now—my world crumbled. I lost an opportunity that was much more important to me than I realized.”

“Marrying your ex?”

“No, but the ‘what’ isn’t the point. What’s important is that after my relationship with Brandon ended, I reassessed every aspect of my life. I decided that if I want my life to count for something, I need to count for something in the lives of people who are part of that life. What happened today, when you disappeared on me—twice—well, it pushed that button.”

He winced and because he was a man, went for the deflection.

“Did he cheat on you?”

“Brandon?” Surprise tinged her voice. “No. I could be wrong, but I don’t believe he ever did that. Brandon was a jerk, but he wasn’t a liar. He was very upfront about his reasons when he decided to leave me.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Not particularly, no. But I guess I probably should.”

Cicero sensed more than saw the tension that seeped into her. They sat with probably a foot of space between them. He wanted to reach out and take her hand in his, but her manner didn’t invite it.

“We were together for seven years, engaged for four. Actually had a wedding date picked three times, but the Army had other plans for us. The relationship ended in a way that left a seriously bad taste in my mouth. I vowed I’d never care for another man as long as I lived. Up until now, I haven’t.”

“Up until now,” he repeated.

“You matter to me, too, Hunt,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Go figure. It’s not what I’d
planned. I thought I could keep things casual. That’s what I wanted.”

He gave the swing a push with his foot. “Isn’t that a bit at odds with the whole count-for-something philosophy?”

“Yeah, well. This is where we get into the whole fling versus relationship thing. I looked at you and me as a fling that would one day be a memory and a smile. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I didn’t want a relationship. Not after everything that happened.”

“ ‘Everything’ being what, Rose?”

“I like the way you say my name.”

“Don’t try to distract me. Talk to me.”

The swing’s chains gave three rhythmic creaks before she finally dropped her head back and sighed. “I despise talking about this. Completely and totally despise it. Invariably, it changes how someone looks at me. Don’t give me those stares, Hunt. I can’t bear the thought.”

“Dammit, Rose. You’re starting to worry me. What bit of news are you dancing around?”

Her hand inched closer to his.

“When you were simply a fling, you didn’t need to know. I didn’t feel one bit bad for keeping it to myself. Now that you matter to me and I to you, you absolutely deserve to know. But I’m afraid to tell you. What if you have more in common with Brandon than the affinity to lose yourself in your work? You’ll dump me, too. Considering your recent history, I can’t blame you. But I have to tell you, Hunt, it totally sucks being dumped by your boyfriend because you had cancer.”

Cicero’s blood turned to ice.

Cancer? She has cancer?

Dear Lord, not again. Please, not again.

Instinctively, he reached for her hand, and crushed it in his grip. His voice emerged in a raspy croak. “You said
had
as in past tense, right? Isn’t that what I heard?”

“Yes. Past tense. I’ve passed my five year anniversary.” With deliberate casualness, she asked, “So are you going to give me the old heave-ho?”

He exhaled shakily.

“No, but if you don’t spit out the whole story right now I might throw you off this balcony.”

She laughed, then told him how she’d been diagnosed with endometrial cancer, about her chemotherapy and radiation—and about the hysterectomy that ended her chance to have children of her own.

“My first reaction was that I was being punished for giving away my baby. I’d had my chance at motherhood and now there would be no more chances. I’d wanted to start a family for a couple of years, but Brandon kept putting me off.”

“I’m so sorry,
Bellissima
.”

“Me, too.” She shook her head sadly, adding, “He waited six whole weeks after my surgery to tell me that he’d decided he wanted a shot at fatherhood, after all.”

Cicero took a moment to absorb that information. Anger on Rose’s behalf whipped through him. He knew more than he wished he knew about cancer protocols. The radiation she’d mentioned would have happened after her surgery. That meant the bastard lobbed that grenade while she was going through treatment.

“Whoa. What a gold-plated ass. That makes me look like a prince of a guy.”

“I think I’ll refrain from comment on that,” she replied, her tone wry with amusement. “But it isn’t really about Brandon and his behavior. Like I said, I spent a lot of time in self-examination in the wake of my diagnosis and breakup. I realized I needed to make some changes. Life is short. It shouldn’t be squandered. I want to live my life with joy and purpose. I want it to mean something.”

He stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

“Your life means more than most. I’ve watched you. You are of great value to your sister and her family, and to your friends. You are vital to the health and safety of the people of Eternity Springs. And I might have a strange way of showing it, but you are important to me.”

“I believe that.” She paused a moment before adding, “You groveled.”

He stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.

“That’s pretty harsh. I don’t know that I’d agree that the word grovel is appropriate.”

“Sure it is. You groveled nicely, too. I was quite impressed.”

“You have a smart mouth,
Bella Rosa
.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “So, are we okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m good. A little shaky, I’ll admit. You threw me a curve ball. Supporting my sister through her cancer battle was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I can understand that. Especially given your history. My father wasn’t perfect and heaven knows he made mistakes, but I can’t imagine what you went through with your mother.”

“My mother was young when I was born. She’d been mixed up with a bad crowd—you know the drill. In the end, I mattered less than the high. It consumed her.”

“Drug abuse isn’t an excuse.”

“No, it’s not. But drug addiction is a monster. I try not to think about those years. It just makes me numb. Enough about me. I want to know—five years is one of those magic milestones, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t bail on you because you got sick. I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you’ve proven that.”

“It’s just—it’s hell to go through. I’m so sorry you had to do it, Rose.”

“You’re a good man, Hunt Cicero. Except when you’re being a temperamental jerk of an artist.”

“Yeah, well. Where do we go from here?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Skinny-dipping.”

She rose from the swing and pulled him to his feet.

“First one in the water gets to be on top.”

That evening marked a change for the two of them. The fling had officially grown into a relationship. For the rest of their visit to Bella Vita, life fell into a rhythm. They awoke early and spent a couple hours together, usually swimming or hiking or running, then they both went into town. While Cicero worked in the studio, Rose played tourist or worked on her book or both. He did have one instance where he lost himself in his art and was late meeting her, but Rose let him off the hook. She understood him better, she told him, and she wasn’t nearly so insecure herself. Besides, the fact that he’d been so honestly contrite made all the difference in the world.

Cicero left Bella Vita with Rose at the end of their two weeks recharged and ready to return to Colorado and perfect the design he’d created for the contest. They endured a long day of travel with weather delays for their flights both into and out of Miami, and when they finally arrived in Houston, he looked forward to seeing the ankle biters.

That changed the moment Amy Parnell answered his knock on her front door.

As a physician, Rose dedicated herself to healing, so the power of her urge to take one of the steak knives from the block on the kitchen counter to Amy Parnell caught her by surprise.

The woman had just informed Cicero that she and her husband were bailing on their promise to be guardians of his sister’s children.

“I know what I promised,” the woman said to Cicero. She opened her dishwasher and began unloading the silverware. “I tried. We tried. But we can’t do it. My marriage can’t handle the stress. Scott has said I have to choose. It’s either him or the kids.”

“You can’t do this,” Cicero said with fire in his eyes and fury in his jaw. “You made a commitment!”

“Well, they’ll be committing me if I’m responsible for them much longer.” She tossed the final spoon into the drawer and shoved it shut with a snap. “You won’t believe how much work they are.”

“I damn well do know how much work they are. I helped Jayne with them a lot when she was sick. I offered to help you after she passed. You’re the one who didn’t want me around. You told me to move away.”

“That was a mistake.”

“So you’re going to throw them away like so much garbage?”

“No, absolutely not.” She stacked red Fiesta plates into her cabinet. “Child Protective Services said they’d be placed in good foster homes.”

“What? Foster care?” Visibly shaken, Cicero leaned back against the counter. “Foster homes? Plural? You’re splitting them up!”

The pulse at his temple visibly throbbed. The man was so angry that Rose worried he’d stroke out.

Amy tucked her classic blond bob behind her ear and used a white dish towel to wipe water spots from glassware. “Of course they’ll try to find a home to take them all, but realistically, it’s a lot to ask for.”

“Sort of like you keeping your word, huh?”

Cicero paced the kitchen like a panther.

“I tried! We both tried. I feel terrible about this but really, we’re not to blame for Jayne’s irresponsibility. We will keep Daisy—she’s blood kin—but the other three—it’s just too much. I’m pregnant again, Cicero. I’ve already suffered one miscarriage. I’m not going to do anything to put this baby in jeopardy. I have to put my own family first.”

“Blood kin? Did you really just say that? Damn, Amy. Did our plane go off course and land in feudal Britain?”

“Cicero—”

“You’re a cold-hearted bitch. You swore to make these children your family,” he fired back. “You promised Jayne on her deathbed!”

“Well, I was wrong. I’m sorry, but we can’t do it.”

His eyes blazed, but he spoke in an icy tone. “Where are they now?”

“Daisy and Galen are at the play school at church. Misty and Keenan are still at school. They’ll be home in”—she glanced at the clock—“half an hour.”