LITMIR.BIZ

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you could do both. You know what they say about idle hands.”

      “I know what my grandmother says,” she answered sharply.

      “I guess you’re feeling more like yourself,” Jack said. “But please do as you’re told and rest today so you can work on the holiday decorations tomorrow. You’re a lucky girl, Tessie.”

      “I know.”

      The girl’s guilt touched Sophie. “You have to learn from this, but you don’t have to mourn surviving,” she said.

      At the foot of the bed, Jack turned to her with a look of accusation on his face.

      “Jack, I took a cab over here,” she said. “Mind giving me a ride back?”

      He gave a reluctant nod. “Will you wait while I change out of my scrubs? Tessie, take it easy. I’ll see you in the morning.”

      “Don’t lose my card,” Sophie told her. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

CHAPTER FIVE

      SOPHIE WAITED NEAR the E.R. entrance. She felt a little light-headed as she searched for the words to ask Jack if his tours of duty in Afghanistan might be part of the problem between them. Between him and their unborn daughter.

      She had so little time. Tact wouldn’t suffice.

      He came out of the elevator, having traded his scrubs for jeans and a black sweater. He shrugged into his lined bomber jacket and met her at the doors, leaning down to speak to her.

      “What do you want?” he asked. “Tell me now, and we won’t have to ride back to the square together.”

      “It’s going to take that long. Jack, I really need to talk to you.”

      He looked at her with pity in his eyes. Poor little stalker ex. She can’t take a hint.

      “Put up a wall,” she said. “You think if you’re rude enough I’ll back off?”

      “What more do you need to know? I walked out without looking back.”

      “That might have worked if we’d had some casual relationship, but we were friends for how long before it grew into something deeper?” Her patience dwindled and bitterness crept in. “Of course, you were lying to me about who you really are.”

      “Knowing that, why are you still here?” He didn’t make the slightest effort to deny what she’d said, or defend his own actions.

      “What happened to you in Afghanistan?”

      Jack’s eyes instantly glazed in a convincing show of indifference. “Nothing happened.” He started for the physicians’ parking lot, and Sophie followed.

      “Something did, and the fact that you can’t talk about it means you aren’t handling it on your own. I’ve seen the symptoms—cold sweats, a startle reflex at loud noises.

      He opened the door. “You’re quite the diagnostician.”

      “And the dreams? The fact that you reacted to Tessie’s mention of my baby? You’re still upset over the child in October, but you know you couldn’t save her.”

      “I believed I could or I wouldn’t have done the surgery.” Jack unlocked his rusty blue truck. He’d told her about the vehicle before.

      “This was your grandfather’s?”

      He opened the door. “He gave it to me because I helped him work on it. I probably didn’t do as much as I remember.”

      “But the memory makes you happy.”

      “You’re a good nurse, Sophie, but you are not a psychologist, and I don’t need to be analyzed. I will not be creating memories with your child,” he said. But he couldn’t hide his unexpected confusion—an expression that made her look into his eyes the way she had before, when they’d cared for each other, when his gaze was a reminder that they were together among everyone else in the whole wide world.

      Jack walked around to the driver’s side and got in, staring straight ahead while Sophie climbed in and put on her seat belt. “I abandoned you,” he said. “What kind of mother would risk having me in her baby’s life?”

      “A mother who never had a father, but once believed with all her heart that her child’s dad was the most decent man she’d ever know.”

      He didn’t answer. She’d been too honest. He probably thought she was making an argument to save their relationship.

      At the square, Jack parked on a side street that wasn’t blocked off for holiday decorating.

      They were walking toward the inn when he stopped. “There’s my sister.”

      “Don’t worry,” Sophie said. “I won’t make trouble for you.”

      A young woman with flying hair and a distracted, sweet smile paused in midstride, her arms full of wrapping paper, ribbon spools around her wrists like multihued bracelets.

      “Callie,” Jack said, and his guard went down. His affection for his sister drew Sophie in his wake. “Who are you rescuing today?”

      “I have a few gifts to wrap, and I’m preparing for choir practice.” Callie smiled at Sophie. “You must be the nurse from that car accident.”

      “Sophie Palmer.” The name obviously meant nothing to Callie.

      Sophie wished they could have known each other. Maybe if she’d been able to talk to Callie and Nick, they could have found a way to help Jack.

      But at least they’d never have to know they were losing a niece. Sophie shook hands with Callie, ribbon spools and wrapping paper and all.

      “I’m happy to meet you, but I’m about to drop all this.”

      “Let me help you,” Jack said.

      “If I hand you something, I’ll drop everything else. Are you working on the decorations on the green later?”

      He nodded. More than ever, Sophie felt like an outsider.

      “Maybe I’ll see you there,” Callie said. “I put a doll in your donation box on my way out of Dockery’s this morning, Jack.”

      “Thanks. Callie,” he said, his tone deep and serious, “have you heard from Mom and Dad?”

      “I got a text when they were in Yosemite.”

      “Mom with the trees? I got that one, too.” He sounded wistful. He never allowed himself to sound like that in front of Sophie, likely thinking it made him seem weak, but she admired a man who could acknowledge his feelings. “Our parents are touring the country in an RV,” he said to Sophie as if she were a stranger and he was trying to include her in the conversation.

      “Jack suggested a cruise to Hawaii,” Callie said, “but they wanted time all to themselves.”

      “I thought Mom might like the chance to be pampered,” he said.

      “When did you ever meet a Banning who could stand a steady diet of pampering?” his sister asked.

      Jack tapped the wrapping paper tubes sticking over her shoulder. “I did have another text from them. They asked me if you were having fun, Callie. How many presents are you wrapping for your neighbors this year? If you won’t slow down and enjoy the holidays, Nick and I could help you.”

      “I’m fine, Jack. I don’t suggest you stop helping where you can.”

      He turned his face to Sophie’s, and she remembered every word they’d spoken to each other, each argument and each laugh. There was so much between them, but he’d never mentioned her to anyone he loved, and he’d given her only the barest bones of information about himself.

      He

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