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this rate we’ll be chattering away all day,” Maddie observed with a wry twist of her lips. “I told you that Dr. Mueller ordered several tests and he’s altered Mom’s medications. He thinks one may be sedating her instead of treating the dementia.”

      “Um.” Samantha studied her intently. “And that’s all?”

      Maddie fiddled with the worn tablecloth. “It was just our first visit.”

      “You plan on going back?”

      “Of course!” Maddie replied in an instant. Inwardly grimacing, she slowed her words. “Providing Mom does better on the new medications.” The kettle whistled. Relieved, she rose to get the hot water, using the excuse to try and straighten her muddled thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she returned, carefully pouring the steaming water into their cups. “I should have noticed that there wasn’t any steam before. So, would you like some cookies with your tea?”

      Looking truly concerned, Samantha drew her brows together, then pointed to a plate of lemon bars. “I brought these, remember?”

      “Of course!” She clapped both hands over her reddening cheeks, then sank into her chair. “Not. I’ve been in a fluster since I got home.”

      Worry colored Samantha’s eyes. “Is there something about Lillian’s condition you haven’t told me?”

      Maddie shook her head. Thank heavens her mother was enjoying her regular afternoon nap and couldn’t overhear. Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, Maddie stared down at the delicate pink roses edging her saucer. “It’s so stupid, it’s not worth repeating really.”

      Samantha leaned forward. “If it’s got you this upset—”

      “I wouldn’t exactly call it upsetting. Well, maybe. Depends on what you—”

      Rapping the table with her knuckles, Samantha cut off her words. “Spill it.”

      “I thought … I think Dr. Mueller is … well, attractive.”

      “Downright handsome to be precise. How can this be a surprise? Surely you’ve seen him around town?”

      “Mom’s doctor is in an old building downtown, not in the hospital where Dr. Mueller works. Thankfully, we haven’t had to be at the hospital much.”

      “Still …” Samantha stopped abruptly. “Sorry. Of course I know you don’t get out enough. I just thought that somehow …” She brightened. “But you do like him?”

      “He’s nice.”

      “Don’t start that again. And you can call him J.C.” Samantha wriggled her eyebrows. “He’s single, you know. Well, divorced actually.”

      “Divorced?”

      “I don’t know the details, but I understand it was bad.”

      Maddie wondered why any woman would let him go. Silly, she didn’t know a thing about him. Other than that smile, those eyes … Abruptly, she shook her head. “Honestly, Sam, you’re the last person I expected to matchmake. We’re seeing him so he can help Mom, not so I can develop a crush.” The word was barely out of her mouth when Maddie wished she could draw it back.

      Samantha blinked.

      “Bad choice of words,” Maddie tried to explain.

      “Accurate is more like it.” She smiled more gently. “Hit that hard, did it?”

      Her embarrassment waning, Maddie plopped her chin on one outstretched hand. “Stupid, huh? I’m old enough to know better.”

      “You’re not that old,” Samantha objected. “Besides, I don’t believe in an age limit on falling in love.”

      “Whoa!” Maddie protested. “Who said anything about love?”

      Samantha grinned. “Puppy love?”

      “I had my chance. I picked taking care of Mom instead. It’s what I want.” Maddie wasn’t only loyal, she couldn’t imagine shuttling her mother away because it was more convenient.

      “It doesn’t have to be a choice.” Samantha patted Maddie’s hand. “Lillian wants you to be happy.”

      “And a man deserves a woman who can devote herself to him and the family they create. I’m not that woman.” Although she’d never regretted her choice, Maddie sometimes dreamed of a life with a loving husband and children of her own. It wasn’t her destiny, but the fantasy was harmless.

      “You just haven’t met the right man yet,” Samantha insisted in a gentle, yet confident, tone.

      “Forgetting Owen, aren’t you?” Maddie’s high school, then college sweetheart, they’d been engaged when her mother had suffered the first of many strokes. Lillian had only been in her forties at the time, young for the onset of the neurological nightmare that had stolen her short-term memory.

      Samantha’s expression was steady. “He’s a rat. What kind of man asks you to choose between him and your mother? He knew what was going on, how painful it was for you to give up everything.”

      Maddie tried to interrupt. “But—”

      “But nothing. I know you’d make the same choice again, but asking you to put her in a nursing home …” Samantha shook her head angrily. “And it’s not as though he was new to your life, didn’t know your history.”

      Stroking the silken smoothness of the porcelain cup, Maddie remembered Owen’s unyielding stance. “I did think he might understand. We were going together when my dad passed away.”

      “He also knew you didn’t have any relatives to share the load.” Samantha’s fierce loyalty didn’t waver. “Total rat.”

      Maddie reluctantly smiled. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

      “Nope.” Loyal to the end, Samantha didn’t give an inch. “And J.C.’s about as different from Owen as a rat is to a cat.”

      “I wouldn’t have thought it until you came back to Rosewood, but you’re a romantic, Sam. Just because you and Bret got back together after nearly a decade—”

      “That was fate,” Samantha insisted. “And real, genuine, honest love. It wasn’t a reunion, it was a new start.”

      “I imagine Owen’s got his hands full with his business.” His family had money, and Owen had stepped into the enviable position of entrepreneur with none of the struggle most young business owners faced.

      “Hmm. And, yes, I know, Bret’s running his family business, but it wasn’t stuffed with cash.”

      In fact, it was almost failing when Bret took the helm. “No comparison, Sam. I agree. When we were younger I didn’t think Owen was that affected by having … okay, everything. He just seemed to take it in stride. But when he got older …” He wasn’t the boy she’d fallen in love with.

      “Hey, I’m sorry.” Samantha’s voice changed to one of concern. “I didn’t mean to stir all that up. I guess I just thought … well, J.C.’s such a great guy, and you’re my best friend …” She smiled encouragingly. “I still think your life’s going to change because of him—he’s going to help Lillian and that’ll help you.”

      “It’s not as though I don’t daydream myself. And you’re right. If he can help Mom …” Maddie smiled. “That’s all I ask.” Because her other dreams were just flotsam in the ether. And as likely to materialize.

      True to his word, J.C. began Lillian’s tests with a noninvasive CT scan. Officially called computed tomography, it could detect a blood clot or intracranial bleeding in patients with a stroke. And the scan aided in differentiating the area of the brain affected by the disorder.

      J.C. had prescribed a light sedative so that Lillian could lie still. Forgetting where she was, otherwise

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