Angel's Peak

When she’d seen him in Arcata, she should have made a date for coffee; she shouldn’t have shut him down like that. But she just wasn’t ready to face it yet.

To her own embarrassment, she had fantasized a reconciliation. But Franci was, above all, practical and logical. And if there was going to be a reconciliation, it would have come long before now. As well, it was a horrible prospect to imagine that Sean would decide that, since they had a child, he would do the right thing and be with the child’s mother. Franci didn’t feel like being a consolation prize now any more than she had when she was two months pregnant.

When she ran into him again at the grocery store, her anger with him had erupted out of surprise. If she’d known she was going to see him, she would have been better prepared. Sane. Reasonable. But she hadn’t been ready for him a second time.

Ever since Rosie was born, Franci had assumed that eventually she would have to go to Sean, explain as best she could why she chose to have the baby alone. For her it was such a simple decision, though not an easy one. If he didn’t love her enough to make a commitment before he learned about a child, she didn’t want him just because there was a child. And yet, knowing herself and how powerful her feelings were for him, she feared saying no would have been impossible. And living in a marriage that wasn’t real and genuine would ultimately be too painful…for all of them.

Right now, the most important thing was Rosie—more important than Franci and Sean. Franci would have to take it slow, keep Sean from going off the deep end, make sure Rosie had a safe and normal life. They’d start with a couple of talks, she and Sean. She’d get him used to the idea that she’d moved on, that she’d accepted his decision to move on.

And then, when the groundwork was laid, Rosie would meet her dad.

Later that evening when Sean walked into his brother’s house, Luke, Shelby and Art were just dishing up takeout from Jack’s Bar. This was, of course, because Sean had failed to bring home the groceries. In he walked with a bruised cheek, black eye and swollen nose, which the paramedic said was probably not broken. None of it enhanced his killer good looks. Not to mention his hand, which he kept in his jacket pocket because he’d have so much trouble gripping a fork.

Everyone turned when he came through the door and they went completely still, staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. Finally Art said, “Hey, Sean. Didn’t that girl want to date with you?”

“Can we not talk about this, please?” Sean asked.

So the not talking about it hung over the dinner table like a shroud. While Shelby and Art did up the dishes, Sean took a beer out of the refrigerator, put on his jacket and stepped out onto the porch. About two minutes later Luke joined him, holding his own beer. There were five boys in the Riordan family. Luke was six years older than Sean and, when they weren’t fighting, they were close.

Sean explained running into Franci in the grocery. After getting the story, Luke asked, “So, if I have this right, a great big hulk, who had about six inches and a hundred pounds on you, decided to protect Franci from you, and you attacked him?”

“That’s about it,” Sean said.

“And why would you jump someone who was obviously bigger and stronger than you? You can usually talk your way out of anything.”

“Because, Luke,” Sean said. “He was trying to keep me away from her.”

Luke thought about this for a second and then said, “Oh, boy. There’s trouble, right there. What is it with this woman? Huh?”

“I don’t know,” Sean said miserably. “I thought I could just forget about her, but there’s something about her. Maybe I was more into her than I realized.”

“And why, just out of curiosity, didn’t you know you felt this way about her four years ago?”

“How the hell do I know?” After some silence, Sean finally said, “I thought I had it all under control.”

Four

A couple of days after the fight in the grocery store, Franci kept her word and made a coffee date with Sean. She needed to get this situation handled. When Sean showed up at the coffee shop, his face looked bad and his expression still worse. His cheek was bruised, his nose slightly misshapen, one eye blackened and closed more than the other—which unfortunately didn’t mar his otherwise good looks quite enough. And he was scowling. His right hand was wrapped in an Ace bandage, which Franci consoled herself was better than a cast, but still not good. He walked up to the small round table she occupied and frowned down at her, his eyes glittering through mere slits. She recognized that look. She hadn’t seen it often from the perpetually playful Sean, but she had seen it. He’s had enough, she thought. He was done fooling around. Time to ratchet these emotions down to a manageable level if she hoped for him to actually listen to her when she found the right moment to own up to everything. She needed him reasonable. Understanding. Sympathetic to her concerns.

“Are you all right?” she asked him.

“I’ll live. Can I get you anything?”

She lifted her cardboard coffee cup. “I’m fine, thanks.” And then she took a deep breath while he went for his own coffee. When he sat down across from her, she asked, “How bad is it?”

“I have a headache,” he said irritably. “It’s probably just a minor skull fracture with brain damage.”

She struggled not to smile. “Did you have that xrayed?” she asked, indicating his hand with her eyes.

“Sprain. It’s bruised and sore, that’s all. You’ll probably be very disappointed to know I’m going to completely recover.”

“Hm. Good. Well…I think we should both concentrate on not letting things get out of control.”

“You first,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee and jerked his chin up, pinched his eyes closed and moaned deep in his throat. When eyes opened both were watering; he’d burned his mouth. Oh, Sean was having a rough couple of days. Franci’s hand covered her mouth so there wouldn’t be even the hint of a smile.

And she immediately thought, Crap. She didn’t want to find him cute and funny! She wanted to be repulsed by him! Furious and bitter! Completely unaffected, except maybe with some hatred. She remembered what had hooked her in the first place—he was so good-looking and he made her laugh. Then later, when they were alone, he could make her beg. He could be darling and fun; he could be passionate and powerful. And she did not want to remember that!

She gave him a moment. He was probably blaming her for his burned mouth, too. “So, Franci,” he finally said. “What’s up with the uniform you were wearing?”

“I work for an emergency medical airlift unit, assigned to their helicopter transport.” His eyebrows lifted. “I’m a flight nurse.”

“I guess that’s why I couldn’t find you at any clinics or hospitals,” he said, blowing on his coffee.

“You were looking for me at clinics and hospitals?” she asked. “Since when?”

“Since I ran into you in Arcata and you said you’d prefer to never speak to me again.”

“I didn’t exactly say that, did I?”

“Close enough. I found your address right away because you bought a house, but decided I’d better take it slow, since you’re obviously still pissed off. I thought it might irritate you if I showed up at your front door. Back when I knew you, you had a gun—you were a military officer flying into a war zone. I was willing to brave that. That’s how much I wanted to see you.”

She sat back in her chair. “I no longer have the gun. But when did you decide you wanted to see me again?” she asked. “We bump into each other after years and everything changes for you?”

“Here’s how it went,” he said without even thinking about it. “We both walked away mad back then. I distracted myself by going to a new aircraft, a new training program, a new base and squadron, but after a few months of that, I couldn’t leave it alone anymore—we ended badly and I couldn’t believe it was what either one of us really wanted. So I called you. You didn’t call back, so I tried again—the cell phone was shut off. Your e-mail bounced back—undeliverable. After another few months of licking my wounds I called your mother’s house to see if she’d put us in touch with each other and she was gone. Phone disconnected. House sold. Moved away. None of your best girlfriends were around at Luke AFB anymore and I couldn’t remember their last names, so I had no one to ask.”

“You couldn’t remember their names?” she asked.

He grimaced. “Last names. Shoot me. I didn’t know there’d be a test. So, you didn’t respond and had disappeared. I thought maybe you got married or something. I quit looking. But it never felt right—the way we broke up. It shouldn’t have happened like that.”

“Oh?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“We were both too stubborn. Angry. I wanted to find you and tell you that we should talk about our situation some more. Sanely.”

“Have you changed your mind about commitment? About family?” she asked.

“I was committed before,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, definitely annoyed. “I didn’t need some document to prove that. That’s why we should talk.”

She sat back in her chair. “I can’t see what there is to talk about,” she said, exasperated. “That’s why we went our separate ways. I want the document. I want a family—you don’t.”

“I wanted another chance,” he ground out. “I wasn’t happy with you forcing the idea of getting married before I felt ready, before I felt it was my idea, too. But I was a lot less happy once you were gone.”

“Then why didn’t you say that in your messages?” she asked.

He tilted his head, gave her a hint of a smile and lifted the eyebrow over the good eye. “The messages you never got?” he asked.

Oh, he was good. Great choice for a spy-plane pilot. He was quick and cagey. “Okay, I got them. They were so generic, there was nothing to respond to. Not, ‘I’m sorry and I want to try again,’ or ‘I can’t live without you,’ but just, ‘Shouldn’t we keep in touch? Babe?’”

He leaned toward her. “Well, what do you want from someone who’s talking into ether, not knowing what kind of mood you’re in? Or wondering who else might listen to your messages? Like maybe a brand-new boyfriend or husband! I wanted to talk to you, not make life tough for you! You were pretty specific when you laid down the guidelines—it was marriage or you were out. For all I knew—” He stopped. He took a breath. “For all I knew you found someone who liked that idea. And settled down.”

It was very tempting to just blurt everything out right then, right there, but Franci held her tongue. She did have to lower her eyes over her coffee cup to keep him from seeing the tears there. It all rushed back—how bad the breakup had felt, and remembering that he couldn’t bear the idea of being stuck with her for life. Then came the fear that he’d like another chance, but they would probably only go back to the way they were. Or, he was ready for more now and would never forgive her for what she’d done. Franci’s mind was churning.

“I’d given you a lot of opportunities, Sean. A lot of time. You didn’t budge—you’d gotten as serious as you were going to get. I didn’t want to find myself in a relationship as tenuous as that for a long time, for as long as it took you to say you’d had enough and didn’t want me around anymore.” She swallowed. “I didn’t want to give my best years to a man who couldn’t make a decision.”

He leaned toward her and his look was earnest, though battered. “What did I ever do or say to make you think I was just playing around? Weren’t we a couple? A serious couple? Didn’t we practically live together? You thought I’d just do that for a few years and then dump you? You didn’t trust me any more than that?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Why would I? We spent nights together, Sean—we kept our own places and you never suggested living together! You liked things loose and uncomplicated. You thought your buddies who got married ‘bit the dust.’ You thought the ones who had kids were trapped. I wanted something solid, and back then I wanted it to be you, but if it wasn’t going to be you, I had to have the courage to move on. Right? Isn’t that reasonable?”

Rather than answering the question, he said, “Maybe I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Oh?” she asked with a cynical tone. “And what guy are you?”

“Things changed, Franci. Starting with not having you in my life. I thought I’d just keep having fun, but fun wasn’t fun without you. I thought the Riordan men didn’t settle down, until I watched the last one I ever expected bite the dust…”

“There it is again—he bit the dust.”

“If you’d seen him fight it, you’d have been impressed. Bottom line, I was trying like hell to make it work without you because I thought I had no choice. And when I saw you at that restaurant in Arcata, I knew I wasn’t going another day without trying to see if…I just want to see if we can work this out. If we can’t, if you’re in a different place, I’m not a fool—I don’t want a woman who doesn’t want me. But…”

“Just like I didn’t want a man who didn’t want me,” she reminded him, lifting her chin proudly. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Enough. Didn’t want me enough.”

“Touché. You can have that one. I made a mistake. But so did you. I was an idiot. You were in a big goddamn hurry.”

Well, he was right about that, she thought. She had been on the nest. She leaned toward him and shook her head. “I had no possible way of knowing if you would ever change. I couldn’t wait around for that. My biological clock was ticking.” Boy, had it been ticking!

Again, rather than responding, he asked, “Are you with someone now?”

She froze. In fact, she was. It had been a long time coming, too. But Sean’s reappearance had caused her to barely give the guy a thought. It occurred to her to tell Sean she had a guy, just to back him off a bit. The temptation was equally strong to tell him there was no one, which might encourage him all the more. In the end, she said, “I’ve been dating…trying to be social rather than a recluse. You? Are you with someone now?”

He shook his head. “Let’s try again,” he said in a soft, pleading voice. As if it had all been a minor misunderstanding.

“Not so fast,” Franci said. “I don’t know if I want to try again. We have issues. Unless you’ve changed a lot, we don’t want the same things out of a relationship, out of life. It’s too late for couples’ counseling. I’m willing to think about us being friends, but we have to take even something like that very slowly. The world didn’t just stand still after we parted ways, Sean. I went on living.”

“Of course you did, Franci,” he said, reaching for her hand. He held it on the tabletop. “We both tried to get on with things, and both ended up back here.”

“I’m sure we’re not talking about the same things,” she said. “I’m sure your dating was a lot different than mine,” she said, meaning he’d slept with a lot of women. He’d been a real playboy when she met him and she had been a little surprised when he became exclusively hers. Sean going back to his old ways of making the rounds was more what she had expected of him.

“I dated,” he admitted. “Not anything very…Nothing worked out.”

She lifted her chin. “And I became very independent. I hadn’t heard from you in years. I didn’t see this coming.”

“It’s coming,” he said, in a low voice laced with meaning. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight.”

“No,” she said. “I’m busy.”

“Tomorrow night, then.”

“I’m going out—I have plans. I’ll have coffee with you on Sunday afternoon, if you’re free. I’ll talk with you, Sean. Maybe we can put some of our conflict to rest and work out friendlier terms.”

“I want to spend time with you—”

“You better let me think about that. There have been too many changes in my life to step back into a relationship like I had with you.”

“Are you thinner?” he asked, changing the subject. “You seem thinner.”

“I took up running after…Once I moved up here, I started running. I finished two marathons.”

“No kidding?” he said, impressed. He grinned, then winced and touched his cheek. “Well, you look fantastic. I guess running is your thing. It works for you. And the hair—if you’d have said you wanted it cut to the scalp, I would have had a fit, but it’s…it’s hot, that’s what it is.”

She hated that she felt warm all over when he said that. “I’m completely different in a lot more ways than looks,” she said as a warning. “I have baggage that I’ve accumulated in the past few years. I have commitments. For example, my mother and I moved up here together. She was widowed, I was single—it made sense.”

“Sure. How is Viv?” he asked.

“Great. Working in a family practice as a physician’s assistant. She’s glad she made the change—she likes the area and has friends here. And I have two jobs, Sean. I pull a couple of twenty-four-hour shifts with the airlift unit in Redding every week and I teach a couple of courses at Humboldt University—nursing courses. It’s a great schedule for me—gives me the time off I need so I can balance work life and home life. It works for me. I’m committed to both.”

“You’re teaching nursing?” he asked, surprised.

She nodded. “I’ve been doing that for the past year or so. Turns out I like it.”

“My new sister-in-law, Shelby—she’s a student there, in nursing. Cutest thing you’ll ever see. Best thing that ever happened to Luke. Any chance you know her?”

“What year is she in?” Franci asked.

“First year. She got married in her first semester because Paddy and Colin were done with their deployments—she waited for all the Riordans to be available. She’s way younger than Luke and is just starting college.”

Franci tilted her head and smiled, thinking how sweet it was that cranky, womanizing old Luke ended up with a sweet young girl who was determined to get an education. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t met Luke’s wife. Most of the freshmen are stuck in liberal-arts courses the first year. I teach one medical-surgical course and one that boils down to charting ER patients. I’m just one of many instructors. Mostly, I teach juniors and seniors. I share an office on campus with another nursing instructor and I only teach a couple of days a week. Except for meetings, of which there are too many.”

“You never did go for the meetings,” he said with a smile. “I’ll have to tell Shelby to introduce herself. You’ll love her. You’ll—”

“One thing at a time, all right?” Franci asked patiently. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s great. Greater since Luke got married and they’re on the baby trail. She might finally get a grandchild out of one of us, after all.”

Franci flushed. Oh, God, so many people were going to be pissed when they found out about Rosie. She had no idea how she’d have done it differently, however. Well, there was that one way—she could have told Sean about the baby. Good Catholic boy that he was, he’d have married her right off or his mother would have killed him. As she recalled, Maureen Riordan had powerful influence over her sons. “Good for her,” was all she could say. “Sean, this is going to take time. Things have probably changed too much.”

“Not as much as they’ve stayed the same,” he said.

“There’s only one way I can even think about this, and that’s if we get to know each other all over again,” she said. “We can’t go back four years and try to untangle that mess—we have to accept ourselves as the people we are today, and go from here. You said you’re not that guy anymore. And you know what, Sean? I’m not that woman anymore—the one who cried every day after we split up. I’m a lot stronger. We’re both different.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed. “Maybe better,” he suggested. “But, Franci, like it or not, we have history.”

She felt her heart take a fearful jump. “Yeah. You have no idea.”

As it happened, there had been a man in Franci’s life for the past few months. Meeting Dr. T. J. Brookner had been one of the great perks to that little part-time teaching job she’d taken at the college. He was a terrific guy—a marine biologist and professor of oceanography. The forty-year-old was a divorced father of two preteen girls. Franci was one of the few certified divers in the nursing department and was the instructor with the most “open time” in her schedule, so she had been recruited to teach a short first-aid course to freshman dive students. Since she loved diving she jumped at the chance, which is how she met T.J. They ended up going on a couple of dive dates, which led to a few phone calls, which led to a few getting-to-know-you dinners, and what she found was an entertaining man who enjoyed many of the same things she did.

She liked the fact that he was ten years older than she; he seemed settled and he was definitely sure of himself. He had a stable career and was happy with where he was in life. She respected his parameters for a relationship: if they were intimate, they had to be exclusive, and while he was open to the idea of a long-term relationship, it had to be understood up front—he wasn’t having more children. After his second daughter was born, he’d had a vasectomy and he steered clear of women with ticking clocks and the expectations that went along with it. As far as what he was looking for, Franci knew he wanted to meet a fun, attractive, intelligent and mature woman to spend time with.

Franci had no trouble signing on to that deal. It was nice to have someone to dive with, to go on long runs with, even to have sex with. Up to that point, Franci hadn’t done any serious dating—just the occasional evening out with a work colleague, or one of the guys from her running club. For the first time in a long time, she’d been feeling content—she had her little girl, her mom, a job she loved and a guy. What a relief it was to feel settled and on track!

Since Franci hadn’t been associated with the college for long, the gossip about T.J. didn’t reach her right away. She’d already been going out with T.J. for a couple of months when she learned he was known as Professor Hottie by the coeds. She was completely amused by the nickname and teased him about it, but learned fast that he didn’t think it was so funny. He said the girls flirted with him shamelessly and it was the sort of thing that could lead to irresponsible talk—something that could cause a lot of trouble for a man. T.J. allowed that this kind of talk might have even contributed to his bitter divorce from a jealous wife years ago.

“Good grief, I hope your ex-wife didn’t cave into jealousy just because freshman girls have crushes on handsome professors! We all did. I had mine and I bet you even had yours,” she added with a laugh.

“Trust me—I never had an older woman professor who looked like you!” T.J. informed her enthusiastically.

“Aw. That’s sweet. You should just be flattered by the attention. Professor Hottie.”

“I am, as long as no harm is done,” he admitted.

In all seriousness, he came by the nickname honestly enough; T.J. was divinely handsome and had a very sexy smile. Franci had no trouble admitting that his smile was the first thing to catch her attention. She immediately dismissed the giggles and rumors as predictable and didn’t give them a second thought.

But then, just as Franci thought her life had begun to resemble something close to normal, who should show up but Sean? Now that she thought about it, Sean’s timing had always sucked, and she had a little three-year-old redhead to prove it.

Now, out of the blue, Franci was conscious of a little problem: When she thought of T.J., she wondered what they’d find to do next weekend—movie or dinner out or maybe a dive? But when she thought of Sean, all she wanted to do was take her clothes off.

When Franci told Sean she couldn’t meet him on Saturday she didn’t explain fully—she had a date that night with T.J. But after Sean threw her world into a spin, she really wasn’t in the mood for a date with anyone. And there was no way the date with T.J. could culminate in the usual way. She was much too distracted for that and considered canceling altogether. She complained to her mother of a headache.