Warrior at Willow Lake (3 page)

As if reading his mind, Maci closed in on him once again. She reached over his shoulder and tapped the nursery viewing glass. “He was worth everything—that little guy in there.”

“You think Ali feels the same—and Ryder?” The touch of her hand on his arm sent an explosion of heat up his spine. He raked a hand through his hair and wished for another cup of coffee. But the cafeteria was closed and a third dose of muddy brew from the vending machine was sure to burn a hole right through his gut. “Ryder almost lost her—almost lost both of them.”

“But he didn’t.” Maci waggled a finger. “So let it go, Hunter.”

“I suppose.”

Ryder had been shocked to see Hunter—Ali, as well, when she was finally conscious enough to notice him there in the room. But it wasn’t a bad kind of shocked, as Hunter imagined it would be. Instead, though they surely harbored a slew of questions, Ryder and Ali both seemed genuinely glad he was with them. Hunter longed to say a few things—more than a few—but the birthing suite was no place to hash through events of the past.

Maci fished through her purse, locating a pack of gum. She offered him a stick before unwrapping one for herself.

“You have the most beautiful hair,” he said as he took the stick of gum.

He leaned in and gave in to the desire to brush a lock from Maci’s cheek. The texture was soft, silky—not at all what he expected from the abundance of curls. He was loath to let it go.

“Thank you.”

“And you’re awfully cheerful for someone who’s been up all night.”

“And, you’re awfully grumpy.” She slipped the gum into her mouth. “Isn’t your body trained for these odd hours, doing the rescue work you do?” The scent of spearmint drifted as she chewed.

“Sure. I’m just a bit out of sorts.” It was more than that—she’d awakened something in him that had been sleeping for nearly a decade. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt every nerve hum, every sense pique. He tossed the gum into his mouth and the sharp flavor spread to singe his sinuses. “I never expected…it’s been a long time.”

Maci glanced at the ceiling, and he knew she was thinking of Ali who was sleeping soundly in the birthing suite three stories up with Ryder curled like a pretzel in the pull-out chair at Ali’s bedside. The look of delight on Ryder’s face when he stepped into the hall to announce the birth of his firstborn son was enough to get Hunter wishing for something solid…something lasting.

But, unlike Ryder, Hunter knew he’d never have a child of his own. How could he ever be trusted with another life, after what had happened to Josh?

“Exactly how long has it been since you’ve seen Ryder and Ali…since you’ve spoken to them?” Maci’s voice drew him back.

“Years…until tonight.”

“But I thought you were best friends.”

“We were. It’s…complicated.” The explanation was painful, and he had no desire to reopen the wound while he felt so off-balance. He and Ryder had talked a bit over a cup of coffee in the cafeteria after Rory was whisked off to the NICU and while Maci sat with Ali. They’d begun to reconstruct the bridge Hunter was sure, until last night, remained irreparable. But there were still so many gaps to fill…so much that needed to be said.

Maci leaned in, her shoulder nudging his. “I didn’t see you at their wedding.”

“I was...” He was going to finish with
working
, but the lie wouldn’t come. The truth was, a year ago he hadn’t been ready to return to Willow Lake.

Maci dipped her head, speaking slowly. “I know about Josh. Ali speaks of him often. She told me—”

“Don’t.” Hunter strode to the vending machine and fed another dollar into the slot. His gut would just have to push through the sludge-induced pain. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’ll have to sometime.”

“Oh?” A cup dropped into the dispenser, followed by the trickle of muddy, dark liquid. The aroma of coffee filled the room. “What makes you such an expert?”

Maci simply offered a ghost of a grin. “Do you mind if we head outside to the courtyard while you drink that? I could use some fresh air.”

“Sure. That’s a great idea. Lead the way.”

She turned to grab her violin case as the babies continued their symphony of squalling. It was only steps and a quick trip through a revolving door that brought them into the moonlight melded with muted lighting from the parking lot across the way. Trees swayed in a gentle breeze, their leaves chattering against the stars.

Maci set the violin case on a low-bricked retaining wall and loosened the clasps. Hunter hoped there was no damage to the instrument; he knew how much she loved it, and wondered at the strength of her friendship with Ali that would make concern for such a valuable instrument so secondary.

She ran her hands in a caress over the polished wood and then let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. As though handling a newborn, she rested the violin back in the case. He wanted to speak, to confirm the violin wasn’t damaged, but somehow it seemed blasphemous to interrupt the beautiful reverence unfolding before him. He contemplated for a moment what it would be like to be the recipient of Maci’s tender affection.

She rosined her bow and retrieved the violin. Gently plucking at the strings, she tuned the instrument, and then attached a piece across the bridge that looked like one of the practice mutes his sister used to use. Tucking the wood beneath her chin, Maci fluidly ran the bow over strings. Soon a rich, sweet melody filled the NICU courtyard.

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed as the timbre, slow and soothing, washed over him. For a moment, he nearly forgot he was standing near the hospital lobby, the night inching toward dawn, while patients healed and neonatal nurses rushed by the foyer to tend to ailing babies.

He turned to watch Maci and was instantly transported to a concert hall. Her rich, fluid movements were the very definition of graceful. His tongue sat like a brick in his mouth as what he saw defied description.

Beautiful.

That’s all he could muster—one simple word. She was beautiful.

In that moment, he was transformed. He fell in love as her fingers, long and delicate, caressed the bow while it whispered across the strings. Her eyes slipped closed, and her body swayed in time to the gentle rhythm. Curls brushed the length of her back like a curtain of copper silk, and Hunter longed once again to smooth his fingers through the sleek shimmer.

When she finished, the courtyard fell silent except for the whirr of an air conditioning unit and the swish of the revolving entrance door. Hunter’s heart pounded against his ribs and he wondered why she couldn’t hear it.

“Maci.” Her name on his lips was perfect…the salve he’d been searching for. He closed the distance between them as if in a dream. “I’ve never seen anything so…mesmerizing.”

She shrugged lightly, her eyes dancing. “I love to play.”

“I love to watch you play.” The adrenaline that surged through his veins made Hunter throw caution to the wind. He took the instrument from her and tugged her close. “It makes me want to do crazy things.”

A hint of blush reddened her cheeks, and she sighed as he grazed her jaw with a knuckle. “Such as?”

“Kiss you.” The words were a sigh on his lips. “Is that OK?”

Her nod was barely decipherable, but it was enough to make Hunter lean in and claim her lips once, twice.

“Hunter…” Maci’s sigh brought him back. “I don’t think we should…”

“I know.” It took every ounce of restraint to release her. Hunter wondered at the tsunami that rushed over him, leaving him disoriented and confused. The blend of pleasure and caution was so unfamiliar he didn’t know how to wrap his brain around it. So he handed her the violin and took a giant step back.

“I’m sorry.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt. Despite the generous rush of cool night air, the courtyard was suddenly stifling. “That was uncalled for. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t apologize.” Maci pressed an index finger to her lips. “It was…nice.”

“Nice?” He tried not to feel offended. But the kiss, to him, had been much more than
nice
. He crossed to a wrought iron bench flanked by knockout roses and settled into it, working to steady the tremor of his pulse and keep his voice even. “How did you know your music would calm so much?”

“It’s my job to know.”

“Well,” He shrugged. Her answer was cryptic, but he let it go. “I’d say your work here is done.”

“For now.”

“Right.” He averted his gaze from her as she placed the violin back into its case. “You can come back tomorrow—I mean, later today—to visit with Ali.” He tossed his crumpled coffee cup into a nearby trashcan. “But, for now, we can both use a little shut eye. I’ll take you home.”

This was dangerous ground, letting himself feel something for her. There was no point in starting something that could never possibly even leave the gate. Better to leave well enough alone.

****

“I’ll need my car.” Maci grabbed her violin case and followed Hunter from the courtyard and into the parking lot. A full moon cast a pearly glow over the pavement while a smattering of vehicles, like a sparse case of chicken pox, filled yellow-lined spaces. The air, still on the sultry side, carried the scent of hamburgers from a fast-food restaurant across the street that mingled with exhaust fumes. Maci wasn’t sure if the tangle in her belly was from the odd mix of scents or from Hunter, walking so close beside her. Security lights washed over him as they crossed to his pickup, making the sharp clench of his jaw evident. It wasn’t that he was angry. Suddenly he just seemed out of sorts. “We’ll have to go back to the landing for it.”

“Right. Your car.” Keys jangled as Hunter pulled a ring from his pocket. He shuffled through the mix and slipped a key into the passenger door. “We can do that.”

“Thank you.”

The lock disengaged and he opened the door for her. Taking her violin case, he nestled it carefully behind the passenger seat and then waited while she slipped into the cab.

“I appreciate it, Hunter.”

“No problem.” But the somber tone of his voice gave the impression that it
was
a problem.

Maci’s nerves bristled. Her lips still tingled from his kiss, reminding her that she wasn’t the one who had initiated the intimacy.
She
should be the one who was on edge. Yet, she wasn’t. Instead, she felt as if she’d just come through a long-standing storm and the power was finally back on. Every nerve-ending hummed.

Usually she was an expert at reading people. She had to be—as a music therapist it was her job. But, hard as she tried, reading Hunter was like deciphering Morse code—without the key. She pressed a hand to the door as he began to close it and spoke quickly, her tone clipped. “I can call a cab, if you’d rather.”

“What? No.” He shook his head and slammed the door, strode around to the driver’s side to slip into the seat before continuing. “I told you, it’s no problem. Besides, do you really think I’d let you wander the streets alone in the dark?”

“The sun will be up in another hour. Besides, I’m not ten years old, Hunter.” She adjusted the seat belt and then folded her hands into her lap.

“I see that.” His gaze narrowed as he skimmed the length of her, wrapped in moonlight. “It’s more than…obvious.”

She shifted in the seat as her cheeks heated, wondering how he managed to make her want to kiss him and scream at him in the same instant. Her jaw clenched and the next words were stiff. “Besides, Willow Lake is safe.”

“You think?”

“I know.” She nodded sharply, giving the gum in her mouth a few hard chews. She’d longed for the safety and the anonymity of a place where no one knew her—or her past. Willow Lake was a comfortable fit—a blessing greater than she’d ever hoped to find. Here she had found true friends in Ryder and Maci…and a sense of peace. “That’s why I moved here…opened a practice here.”

“What kind of practice?” Hunter asked as he jimmied the key into the ignition and started the engine. The rumble seemed so out-of-place in the deserted lot.

“Music therapy.” Maci rolled down her window and let the slight breeze wash over her. His questions raked her nerves and his eyes—generous slices of onyx—studied her as if she were a newly-discovered lab specimen. Why did she feel like she owed him an explanation? She drew a breath and brushed a speck of lint from her skirt, wishing for a hot shower and a change of clothes. “I counsel people through music.”

“Great.” As if to punctuate the sentiment he gunned the engine and squealed from the parking spot, tossing her back in the seat. “Just what I need—a head doctor.”

“Hunter, please slow down!” As he veered left from the lot and onto the highway, she toppled into him. She splayed a hand over his shoulder, fighting to regain her balance in the seat, and was vaguely aware of the terrain of muscles beneath the starched, cotton fabric of his work shirt. Every nerve ending trilled in harmony and she gulped hard before continuing. “We’re not in an emergency vehicle anymore. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re the shrink.” His eyes shot daggers as he charged through a green light. “
You
tell
me
.”

“
Shrink
?” The word scalded Maci. “I see you have a high regard for people like me.”

“People like you…”

Her words seemed to startle Hunter and he tapped the brake, easing to a reasonable speed.

He raked a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Maci…it’s not you.”

“Here we go…” She righted herself in the seat and readjusted the belt over her lap, pulling it good and tight before smoothing her wrinkled skirt. Another flash of heat rushed through her chest and over the nape of her neck, snaking across her face. She tilted her head to hide cheeks she was certain were flaming. “You know, if this is about what happened in the courtyard, remember that
you
kissed
me
, not the other way around.”

“Is that right? Well, correct me if I’m mistaken, but it sure felt like you kissed me back.”

“You caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting…” Gnawing her lower lip, Maci reached for the radio dial. A quick jab and music raged through the cab. Good, she didn’t know how she’d continue to speak with the lump swelling in her throat. Her eyes burned.