Brett smiled back, but then he sobered. “He’s getting old. I know you said that, but I didn’t believe it until I saw him. I always thought he’d go on forever.”

“He thinks so, too.” She tossed the lunch remains in the trash. “That’s part of the problem. He won’t take it easy. He can’t. I’m afraid one day he’ll lie down for his rest and not get up again.” Please understand.

Brett frowned. “Is he all right? Has he had a thorough work-up?”

“As thorough as he’ll let me do.” She spread her hands flat on the table. This was the first time she’d felt able to talk to someone about this. If only she could tell him everything…but she couldn’t. She’d promised Doc.

Still, it was good to share the worry. Good because it was Brett, whom Doc loved like a son and took pride in.

“He claims he’s just tired out, that’s all. He works a schedule that would exhaust a younger man, and he never takes a break.”

Brett’s green eyes darkened. “There has to be something we can do.”

You can take over the practice, the way he planned. She closed her lips on that. It would only lead to another argument.

“Maybe he’d let you check him out.” She hesitated, half afraid to say anything else. If Doc knew she’d suggested a checkup, he’d be furious. But she had to. No one else would. “Look, I know you said you were just here on a break.” The word tasted bitter, but she pushed on. “But you could help out while you’re here.”

His frown deepened, creating three furrows between his eyes. “That’s not a solution.”

Her resolve slipped. “The best solution would be for you to stay.”

He shoved back his chair, stalked to the window, and stared out at the aspen tree, tinged now with gold. “You really think that’s what these people need? Horse-and-buggy medicine? A one-doctor town?”

She shot to her feet. “Doc’s a good physician. He gives people everything he has.”

He lifted his hand as if to stave off her attack. “I know that. But I also know it’s worn him out.”

She fought down her anger. Anger wouldn’t help. She had to get him to make a commitment—just a small one.

“He needs a rest. He’d get that if you helped out for even a week before you go back to Philadelphia.”

“I’m not going back to Philadelphia.” He swung around, but she couldn’t see his face clearly with the light behind him.

“What do you mean? Your residency—”

“I completed my residency. I thought I’d be starting a surgical fellowship, but the one I expected to have isn’t going to be there.”

His voice sounded flat, denying any emotion, but she knew better. She rose, moving toward him until she could see his expression clearly. It didn’t tell her much. He was hiding something; she knew that without analyzing how or why she did.

“Then you’re free to stay in Bedford Creek, aren’t you?”

His mouth tightened at her persistence. “You’d better understand, Rebecca. I’m not prepared to settle down in this town for the rest of my life. There are other fellowships out there.”

The anger she’d been trying to suppress spurted out. “So you’re just home while you look for a new fellowship. You’re going to ignore the debt you owe to Doc.”

“I’m not ignoring anything.” His green eyes sparked with anger. “This is between me and Doc.”

“You haven’t even told him yet!” She wanted to shake him. Didn’t he understand what was at stake?

His face hardened, becoming the face of a stranger. “I’ll tell him when we have supper together tonight. Until then, I’d suggest you stay out of it.”

Brett found he was still fuming at the memory of that conversation as he drove up Main Street toward the café to meet Doc. Who did Rebecca think she was? She didn’t have the right to interfere.

Didn’t she? The reasonable question slid into his mind, deflating some of the righteous indignation he’d been fueling. She was obviously a big part of what kept the clinic going, so she had a stake in its future, if not in his.

Maybe part of his problem was the whole idea of little Rebecca, the tag-along kid sister, lecturing him about his responsibilities. A rueful smile touched his lips. He’d better admit it—he still hadn’t gotten used to the grown-up Rebecca she’d become while his back was turned.

Who’d have guessed the gawky kid would blossom into a beautiful young woman? He’d found himself wanting to touch her cheek, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. Wanting to tangle his fingers in that silky hair…

Whoa, back off. This was little Rebecca he was thinking about—the Rebecca he’d always thought of as a kid sister. She undoubtedly still considered him a big brother. That was why she felt free to lecture him, just the way she would lecture Quinn. She’d never think of him any other way.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. He saw again those golden-brown eyes, warming with a smile for him, and felt a jolt that had nothing brotherly about it. Okay, maybe he could be attracted to her, but he wasn’t going to do anything about it.

Nothing about a relationship with Rebecca could be at all casual, and he knew it, so there wasn’t going to be anything. The future he had mapped out for himself didn’t include the possibility of marriage for a long time. He travels fastest who travels alone—and he intended to keep moving.

So he’d ignore the surge of attraction he felt every time he saw Rebecca. Given the way she felt about him right now, that shouldn’t be difficult. She’d be only too happy to ignore him.

He pulled into a parking space in front of the Bluebird Café, switched off the ignition and took a deep breath. Telling Rebecca he wasn’t staying had been difficult enough. Telling Doc seemed almost impossible.

He got out and stood for a moment. The setting sun edged behind the mountain, sending streaks of orange along the horizon, softening slowly to purple. He’d forgotten how quickly twilight came in the narrow valley, closing in as the sun disappeared.

It had been a long time since he’d stood still and watched the sun go down. Peaceful. He could use some of that peace right now, as he prepared to break the news to Doc. He turned, pushed open the door, and saw Doc waiting at a table in the back.

The opportunity he needed didn’t come immediately. Doc had already consulted the cardiologist who’d seen Minna at the hospital, and he clearly wanted to talk about his diagnosis and treatment plan. It wasn’t until Doc had scooped the last bit of chicken gravy onto his roll and popped it in his mouth that he began to run out of shoptalk.

Finally Doc pushed his plate aside and propped his elbows on the red-and-white checked tablecloth. He peered at Brett over the top of the glasses that constantly slid down his nose, his faded blue eyes intent.

“Okay, out with it.”

Brett discovered he was clutching the checked napkin like a lifeline. “What do you mean?”

Doc lifted his eyebrows. “You think I’m so old I can’t tell when something’s wrong with you?”

“No, I guess not.” Some of his tension slipped away. “I’ve been working up my nerve to tell you something.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with a difference of opinion you got into with a supervising physician, would it?”

He hoped his mouth wasn’t hanging open. “How did you know that?”

Doc shrugged. “I still have my sources. You want to talk about it?”

The café was empty except for them, and Cassie James, the owner, after checking at least three times to be sure they had everything, had retired to the kitchen.

“There’s not much to tell.” Brett frowned, studying the bluebird on the heavy white coffee mug. He didn’t want it to sound as if he were making excuses for himself. “I was doing an ER rotation, and the paramedics brought in a street person in pretty bad shape. Standard procedure was to send them to county, but I felt she wouldn’t stand the trip. I scheduled her for surgery.” He took a breath, remembering. “Dr. Barrett didn’t agree, and I had to go over his head.”

“Were you right?”

He reached inside himself for the answer. Was he right? “Yes.”

Doc nodded sharply. “Then that’s what matters. Forget Barrett. He’s not as important as he thinks he is.”

“Unfortunately he’s important enough to control who gets the surgical fellowship. And it’s not going to be me.”

He met Doc’s gaze, and saw instant sympathy reflected there, followed by a sudden spark of hope. He had to get the rest of it out before Doc could build too much on his words.

“Doc, I know we used to say I’d come back here after my training and take over the clinic so you could retire.” He found his throat closing. How could he say that the life Doc loved wasn’t the one he wanted?

Doc looked away, seeming to stare out the window that overlooked Main Street. When he looked back at Brett, there was no condemnation in his face—just understanding. “Your dreams have changed.”

He nodded. “Yes, I guess they have.” His voice sounded husky, even to himself, and his throat felt tight. “I didn’t realize then what possibilities there are in medicine. Now…”

“Now you want something more.” Doc rearranged his cup and saucer, his hand trembling slightly. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I guess I always figured you might discover talents you didn’t know you had.”

“I don’t want to let you down.” The strength of that feeling surprised him. “I’d never want to disappoint you. I’ll repay every cent you loaned me. But I’d like to try for another surgical fellowship.”

There, it was out.

Doc didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he smiled. “Any program head who doesn’t take you is a fool.” He reached out to clasp Brett’s hand. “You’re going to make us all proud, son.”

“But you—”

“I’m not ready to retire yet,” Doc said quickly. “The right person will come along to take over the clinic long before I’m ready to hang it up. Shoot, what would I do if I quit? Chase a little white ball around a golf course? Not for me.”

“You might get to like it.”

“I like what I’m doing now just fine.” Doc shoved his sleeve back to glance at his watch. “Speaking of which, I’d better get on the road to the hospital. Minna’s expecting to see me.”

“I’ll pay you back, you know. I mean it.”

Doc shook his head. “Help someone else instead.” He put his hand on Brett’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Brett. You’re not letting me down.”

It was one thing to hear Doc say the words. It was quite another to believe them. Brett watched Doc make his way to the door, stop to exchange some joking words with Cassie, then go out. His shoulders were stooped, his walk almost a shuffle.

Pain gripped Brett’s heart. It wasn’t all right. Even if he didn’t intend to settle down in Bedford Creek for the rest of his life, he couldn’t just walk away. Somehow, he had to do something.

Rebecca sat on the front porch swing, watching the stars come out one by one in the sliver of sky that wasn’t blocked by the maple trees lining the street. She should go in. She shivered, pulling her sweater more closely around her shoulders. Nights got cool in the mountains in September.

She glanced across the lawn to the house next door. She might as well admit it. She was waiting for Brett to come home from his meeting with Doc.

She’d really messed up her fine plan. She bit her lip. The plan wasn’t at fault, her temper was. She’d let it get control of her tongue, and she’d antagonized Brett so thoroughly that now he’d never listen to her.

Lord, please help Doc do a better job of this than I did. I’m sorry I spoke hastily and messed things up.

The Lord must get tired of hearing her confess the same sin over and over again, she thought. She pushed the swing with her foot, listening to the comforting creak. Each time, she promised to try harder, but trying harder didn’t seem to be the answer.

She tried to picture Doc and Brett talking together over their meal. She’d like to believe Doc was insisting Brett follow through on his promise. She’d like to, but she couldn’t. Doc would never admit how desperately he needed help.

Headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the trunks of the maples. Brett parked at the curb, got out, and stood for a moment, looking in her direction. Then he walked toward her, and suddenly her heart seemed to be beating way too fast.

Enough, she lectured. Brett doesn’t mean anything to you anymore, remember?

His footsteps crunched through the fallen leaves on the walk. “Mind if I join you?”

She shrugged, moving over to make room on the swing. It creaked as he sat. He leaned back, and she tried to ignore the warmth that emanated from him. Tried, and failed.

“This has to be the same swing.” He pushed gently with his foot. “I remember the creak.”

“You should. You and Angela spent enough time out here.”

She remembered, too. Remembered sitting at her bedroom window in the dark, listening to their soft, private laughter and the creak of the swing. Wishing she were sitting beside him.

“The good old days.” He leaned back, staring up at the stars as she had done. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

“It probably seems longer to you because you’ve been so many different places since then.” She bit back the words that wanted to spill out about where he’d been and where he was going in the future.

“I guess.” He pushed again, the swing moving back and forth with a little more energy, as if it picked up on some agitation he didn’t show.

She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know where he’d gone tonight, and she couldn’t act as if it didn’t matter. She’d just have to choose her words carefully, that was all. Brett seemed willing to forget their earlier quarrel, and she had no desire to remind him.

“Did you and Doc have a nice supper?” That was neutral enough, surely.

A faint smile flickered on his lips. “We ate at the Bluebird Café. Hasn’t anyone in this town heard of healthy cuisine?”

“Only the newcomers. Let me guess. Doc had chicken and gravy.”

He nodded. “Got it in one. And rolls with butter, and mashed potatoes.”

“Nobody can resist Cassie’s homemade rolls.” This didn’t seem to be getting them any closer to the subject she needed to discuss, but at least they weren’t sniping at each other.

“Doc should at least cut down on the butter, and he knows it. That’s what he’d tell a patient.” He frowned, turning to face her. The swing stopped abruptly as he planted both feet on the porch. “He needs to retire.”

“Did he say so?”

“No.” He gave an exasperated sigh. “Of course he didn’t say so.” He shook his head. “Go on, ask. You know you want to.”

He sounded frustrated, but not angry, so maybe it was safe to broach the sore subject.

“Did you tell him?” She held her breath, waiting for an explosion.

His jaw tightened. “Yes. I told him. I think he’d already guessed most of it.”

“What did he say?”

“About what you’d expect.”

She swallowed hard. “That’s it, then.” She hated saying the words. “He’s given you his blessing. You can go away and forget about the clinic.” About us.

“You know I can’t.”

She looked up at him. He was very close to her, but it was hard to make out his expression in the dark.

“What do you mean?” She held her breath. Maybe he was about to say—

“I mean you were right. I can’t ignore this. I owe Doc too much for that.”

Hope surged through her. “You’ll stay?”

He shook his head, and the hope died as quickly as it had come. “I can’t. Try and understand that, Rebecca. Doc does.”

“I don’t.” If that was incitement to a quarrel, it would have to be. “You admit you owe Doc. Is that how you intend to repay him? By leaving?”

“I’ll help out at the clinic for the time being.” He sounded grimly determined. “And while I’m doing that I’ll figure out a way Doc can retire with an easy mind. But as for the future…” He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s going to be the way you wanted.”

She already knew that. Dreams didn’t come true, not in real life. Prince Charming didn’t come back for Cinderella.

“I guess not.”

The swing creaked as he moved. Then he touched her chin lightly, the way he’d tease a smile from a child. The warmth of his hand flowed through her, and her heart stuttered.

“Don’t think too badly of me, okay? Maybe none of us should be held to promises we make when we are kids. After all, you promised to marry me if I’d just wait until you were grown up.”

He must feel the warmth that flooded her cheeks. “That was a long time ago.”

“Now you’re all grown up, and everything’s changed.” His hand still lingered against her cheek. “I’ve changed, too. But I’m going to do my best to help Doc, so I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

A faint hope flickered. He’d be helping out at the clinic every day. Maybe being there would make him realize this was where he belonged. Maybe God was giving her another chance to convince him to stay.

The trouble was, she’d have to find a way to do it without having her heart broken by the man she’d given it to when she was five.

Chapter Four

The good thing about going to the café for breakfast, Brett decided, was that no one bothered you unless you wanted to talk. When he’d walked in the door, the early morning regulars had greeted him as if he’d been there yesterday morning, instead of years ago. Then they’d gone back to their newspapers or conversations about the weather and the state of tourism.

Nostalgia had prompted him into the third booth from the back, the one that had belonged to him, Alex and Mitch when they were in high school. The blue-padded seats looked like the same ones. With a mug of Cassie’s coffee steaming in front of him, he shook out the newspaper and prepared to get up-to-date on Bedford Creek news.

Halfway through the front page, someone slid onto the bench across from him. He looked up to find Mitch flagging Cassie and the coffeepot.

She got there before he could gesture again. “Like old times, the two of you sitting here together.” She set the heavy white mug on the table and filled it in a swift, efficient movement. “You just need to get Alex here with you.”

“We’ll work on it.” Mitch waved away a menu. “Just coffee, thanks.”

Brett raised an eyebrow. “Does Anne have you on a diet?”

“I had breakfast two hours ago. Cops get an earlier start than doctors.”

Mitch might have been up for hours, but his blue uniform was as sharply pressed as if it had just come off the rack. That was the lingering effect of years in the military, Brett had always supposed.

“When I was interning, I don’t think I ever went to bed. Come on, Mitch, admit it. You’ve got it soft these days. Cushy job in a small town, beautiful wife-to-be…”

Mitch grinned. “Plus a couple thousand tourists, no staff to speak of and two kids.”

“And you love it,” Brett pointed out.

“And I love it.” Mitch’s smile softened, as if he were thinking of Anne. “I’m one lucky guy.” Then his gaze focused on Brett. “What about you?”

The mixture of relief and guilt he’d felt the night before flooded back. “I told Doc last night.”

“And?”

Brett shrugged. “Great, fine, I have his blessing. You know Doc. He wouldn’t say anything else.” Maybe that was what bothered him most—that Doc would be so unfailingly supportive, even when Brett was disappointing him.

“Look, you have to do what you’re called to do.” Mitch spread big hands flat on the table. That was what he’d said when Brett told him the day before. “We both know that. Doc knows it, too.”

“I wish it were as clear-cut as that. If Doc were ten years younger, it might be. But I’ve seen him at the end of the kind of day he’s putting in at the clinic. He’s exhausted. It’s time he took it easier—even thought about retirement.”

Mitch shook his head. “Doc won’t retire. Face it. He’d rather die in harness.”

“I’m not going to let it come to that.”

“So what are you going to do? You can’t force him to take it easy. He’s the only doctor in town, remember?”

The decision he’d made the night before still seemed right. “That just means I have to act fast. I have to find someone else to work at the clinic, eventually take over for him. That’s the only way.”

Mitch’s skeptical look spoke volumes. “Easier said than done. The clinic board tried that a couple of years ago. The world isn’t filled with doctors who want to settle down in a town of five thousand, miles from anywhere. And anyone who was interested, Doc didn’t think was good enough.”

“There has to be someone.” Stubborn determination filled him. “And I’m going to find him. Or her. I’ve already talked to Rebecca about it.”

Mitch frowned. “I guess we both know what Rebecca thinks you should do.”

“She’s made that abundantly clear,” Brett said. His mouth twisted wryly. “She looked about ready to have me horsewhipped when I said I wasn’t back to stay.”

“I can imagine. She feels pretty strongly about Doc.”

“I know.” Brett turned the bluebird-patterned mug in slow circles on the tabletop. “I don’t quite know why she’s here, though. She could have gone anywhere when she finished her training.”

“That’s about when her father was diagnosed with cancer,” Mitch said. “You know how close they were. Rebecca came home to see him, and just stayed. Doc was in and out of the house all the time. John Forrester was a friend as well as a patient.”

“He was a good man.” John Forrester—quiet, unassuming, honest—had been part of Brett’s life for as long as he could remember. “I can understand why she came back then, but not why she stayed.”

“I guess she felt her mother needed her,” Mitch said. “Face it, Angela’s got a good heart, but she doesn’t have a whole lot of common sense. And when Quinn’s wife died, his little girl moved in with them. Rebecca’s got her hands full, I’d say.”

“Yes, I guess she has.” And probably a big debt she felt she owed Doc.

“One thing’s sure.” Mitch smiled, but his eyes were serious. “If Rebecca thinks anything you do will hurt Doc, she really will horsewhip you. I guarantee it.”

Rebecca couldn’t let it go. She paused in the parking lot outside the clinic, lifting her face to the September sunshine. That conversation with Brett ran through her mind over and over again.

He would leave. That was the bottom line. He’d try to solve Doc’s problems before then, but she knew the reality of the situation, even if he didn’t. He wouldn’t find a solution—not in a few short weeks, not even in a few months, probably.

That panicked sense of time running out gripped her again. What was she going to do?

She closed her eyes. Help me, Father. Please. You’ll have to guide me, because I don’t know what to do.

When she opened her eyes, the autumn colors seemed a little more golden. She took a deep breath, some of the tension in her shoulders ebbing. Now if she could just remember to leave the burden in God’s hands, instead of picking it up again, she’d be better off. She took another deep breath and walked into the clinic.

Brett was already there. He stood at the cabinet, looking over some files, and her heart thudded at the sight of him. He glanced up, sea-green eyes frowning, and waved a chart at her.

“Where are Alex’s medical records?”

She frowned right back. “Are you seeing him today?”

“No.” He eased away from the drawer, looking surprised that she’d question him. “But I’d still like to see them.”

She hesitated. What would Doc say to that? Brett didn’t really have any official standing, but…

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