Chapter 13
Two days later the weather turned wet and unusually cool for late August. For the most part, the guests at the resort were whiling away their time with indoor games and rounds of warm drinks from the bar and the coffee shop.
Marshall’s patients had dwindled down to none and by late afternoon, he told Ruthie to close up shop and let the answering service deal with any oncoming calls. The idle day was driving him crazy. With too much time to dwell on Mia, his office felt like a cage.
He left the building by way of the back entrance and once in his Jeep, automatically turned the vehicle toward his home. But halfway there, he muttered a disgusted curse and made a U-turn in the middle of the dirt road.
There was no use in going home. The place was hauntingly empty without Mia.
That’s what you get, Marshall, for letting the woman get close, for letting her into your home as though she were someone who’d be around for the rest of your
life.
The accusing voice in his head was right. He’d been a fool to think an heiress would fit into his life on a permanent basis. What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been feeling. Only feeling.
Moments later, he passed the turn off to Mia’s cabin and continued barreling on out of the resort. He’d not tried to contact her since their brief encounter the other morning. He wasn’t a glutton for self-punishment and though he’d finally let his guard down and allowed a woman to get under his skin, that didn’t mean he was a naive fool. She’d made it clear that she wanted to end things between them. There wasn’t any sense in going back for more pain, to give her another chance to pour salt into his wounds.
By the time he reached town, he realized his misery was leading him to the one person he could really talk to. At this hour of the day, his brother Mitchell would be at work, but he wouldn’t mind if Marshall showed up unexpectedly. With all of the Cates, family always came first.
Cates International, Mitchell’s successful company, was located on the edge of town. The large metal warehouse’s light green exterior was trimmed in a darker green and surrounded by a huge paved parking lot that was partially filled with displays of planting and harvesting equipment.
A fancy showroom was attached to one side of the building, along with Mitch’s luxurious office, but Marshall ignored the double glass door entrance gilded with gold lettering and walked on to a simple side door that accessed the warehouse. If he wasn’t swamped with customers, Mitch would most likely be inside, tinkering around in his workshop.
Having guessed correctly, Marshall found his brother working at a computer and from the look of deep concentration on his face he was in his creative mood.
Walking around the desk, Marshall stood behind his brother and peered over his shoulder. “Is that some new design you’re drafting, or are you just trying to draw an ice cream cone?”
His concentration broken, Mitchell looked over his shoulder. “Hey, brother.
What’s up?”
Unable to summon a smile to his face, Marshall shrugged. “Nothing. The weather has everybody on the resort playing safely inside. I don’t have a thing to do.
And I thought…I’d come out and see what you’re up to.”
Mitchell pointed to the small object on the computer screen. “Nothing much, just working on a little toy that might eventually make me millions.”
“What the hell is that? Looks like a dunce cap for a mouse.”
Mitchell grimaced. “That’s why you’re the doctor and I’m the inventor. I’m trying to come up with a seed broadcaster that will work on a smaller implement but cover more ground. It would save hours of labor and gallons of diesel for farmers.”
“Good luck. It might be nice to have one millionaire in the family,” he said dryly.
Mitchell turned off the computer and rose to his feet, motioning for Marshall to follow him over to a little nook in the room where a coffee machine was located.
“You look like you need something to perk you up, big brother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so grim.”
Mitchell poured two cups full of coffee and handed one of them to Marshall. “I’d offer you a sandwich to go with it, but the crew ate them all.”
“No matter. I’m not hungry,” Marshall told him. “And I should leave. I’m interrupting your work.”
Shaking his head, Mitchell walked over to a comfortable couch. After taking a seat, he patted the empty cushion next to him. “I needed a break anyway. Come on. Sit. I can see something is on your mind. Tell me about it.”
Raking a weary hand through his windblown hair, Marshall took a seat. “I always thought the big brother was supposed to be the listener. I’m the big brother.”
Mitchell grinned at that observation. “Then who’s supposed to listen to you?”
Marshall lifted his gaze to the ceiling far above them. His brother was smart, successful and smart enough to avoid the snaring arms of a woman. Too bad he hadn’t been more like Mitchell, he thought. Instead, he’d gone through women like a stack of cotton socks. Just as Ruthie had said. Only this time, the tables had turned and he was the one doing the hurting. Maybe he deserved this misery.
“I don’t know. Dad, I suppose. But I can’t talk to him about this. He’d only remind me that I’d wasted years of my life regarding women as playthings when I should have been looking for a wife.”
Sudden dawning crossed Mitchell’s face. “Ah. A woman. So that’s what this mopey look of yours is all about. I should have known. So the heiress has dumped you already?”
Marshall glared at him. “You don’t have to be so flip about it.”
This time Mitchell frowned. “Well, what do you expect, brother? The woman isn’t your style. I don’t know why you’re bothering with her anyway.”
His jaw tightened and then he answered in a low voice, “Maybe because I loved her. Because I…still love her.”
Mitchell was suddenly regarding him in a different light. “I’ve never heard you talk this way. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring myself. Especially now that Mia doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
“Why?”
Bending his head, Marshall stared at the concrete floor. “How the hell should I know! One day she was all warm and loving and the next she says she thinks we should cool it. I can’t figure what’s going on with her.”
Mitchell studied him thoughtfully. “Hmm. Well, she seemed nice enough at the family dinner. A little introverted, but nice.”
His heart was suddenly aching as he recalled the tears on Mia’s face as she’d talked about losing her mother. He’d wanted so much to help her and he’d thought loving her would give her the support she needed. He’d been wrong. Painfully wrong. “She has reason to be. She’s lost her family—her mother more recently.”
Mitchell blew out a long breath. “Forget her, Marshall. She’s trouble. You don’t need a woman carrying around a trunk of emotional issues. Put Mia Smith out of your mind and find someone new.”
Marshall groaned with frustration. “I don’t want another woman, Mitch. I want Mia. That’s the whole problem.”
Mitchell laid a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “If that’s the way you feel, then my advice is to go confront her. Make her tell you what’s wrong.”
Marshall regarded his brother for a long thoughtful moment before he finally gave him a jerky nod. “You’re right. If Mia wants to dump me, she’s going to have to tell me why.”
At the same time Marshall was visiting with his brother, Mia had finally ventured out of the cabin and walked over to the lodge. The cold weather had made the past two days even gloomier for her and though she didn’t want to risk running into Marshall, she couldn’t continue to hide in her cabin. She had two choices, she thought grimly, face him with the truth or leave Thunder Canyon once and for all. Either way, she was bound to lose him.
Thankfully, there was a cheery fire burning in the enormous rock fireplace in the lounge and several guests were sitting around reading, talking and playing board games. Mia purchased a cup of hot cocoa from the coffee shop and carried it over to one of the couches facing the crackling flames.
She’d just made herself comfortable and was sipping at her drink when she looked around to see Lizbeth Stanton, the lounge bartender, easing down on the cushion next to her.
“Hi,” she said. “Mind if I sit down?”
Since the woman was already sitting, the question seemed inane. Mia shrugged, while wondering what could have prompted Lizbeth to join her. Even though she was acquainted with the sexy bartender and had chatted with her during her stay here at the resort, the two of them weren’t what you’d called bosom buddies.
“Not at all. Are you on a break from the bar?”
Lizbeth shook her head. “No. I don’t go on for another thirty minutes. I saw you sitting here and thought I’d stop by. I—uh, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you and you’re probably going to take offense at my being so frank, but I don’t know of any other way to approach you about this.”
Piqued with curiosity now, Mia turned slightly toward the bartender. “Oh?”
Frowning prettily, the auburn-haired siren folded her arms against her breasts.
“Yeah. I think you’re making a big mistake. No, more like a huge mistake.
Marshall is a great guy. Everyone around Thunder Canyon will tell you so. I don’t know what your game is, but he doesn’t deserve to be dumped.”
Mia stiffened. Is that what all of Marshall’s friends here on the resort were thinking? God, she couldn’t bear it. “Where did you hear such a thing—that I dumped Marshall?”
“That’s not important. News travels fast here on the resort. Although all of his friends didn’t have to ask what happened. They can see he’s miserable thanks to you.” Her accusing gaze was practically boring into Mia’s eyes. “It’s beyond me how any woman could throw away a man like Marshall. But you seem to be doing it quite easily.”
Mia drew in a bracing breath and tried to remember she was supposed to be an heiress with class and manners. She couldn’t fire back at the bartender. She couldn’t scream out that good men like her father died and left grieving widows and lost daughters. That there were no guarantees for lasting love.
“Look, Lizbeth, I think you’re making a mistake by putting Marshall, or any man for that matter, on a pedestal. They’re fallible. They don’t always stick around. Or haven’t you noticed?”
Lizbeth sneered. “What’s the matter with you anyway? Are you jealous because Marshall dated me first?”
As Mia looked at her in stunned disbelief, she suddenly realized that her stay here at Thunder Canyon Resort was well and truly over. Tonight she would pack and in the morning she would put Marshall and his friends behind her.
“No. Marshall doesn’t belong to me.”
Lizbeth rolled her eyes. “Can’t you see that Marshall is crazy about you?”
Maybe he was in love with her right now, Mia thought painfully. But if he ever met Mia Hanover that love would dissolve like a sugar cube tossed into a cup of hot coffee. Swallowing away the burning tears in her throat, Mia muttered, “Marshall never has been a one-woman man. I think you know that, Lizbeth. Most love doesn’t last forever and a woman needs to learn to lean on herself and cope with life on her own.”
Pity suddenly filled Lizbeth’s eyes. “You know, I think I’m actually starting to feel sorry for you. You’re lacking something in here.”
Lizbeth pressed fingertips to her heart and it was all Mia could do to keep from bursting into tears. Apparently this woman hadn’t watched her father die. Hadn’t watched her mother fall apart and turn to alcohol because she’d lost the love of her life. Mia wasn’t blind or crazy; she understood that Lizbeth saw her as a hardhearted woman.
Oh, if only that were true, Mia thought. If only her heart were made of steel, or anything that couldn’t ache. Then walking away from Marshall wouldn’t be tearing her apart.
Rising to her feet, she stared down at Lizbeth. “You’re probably right,” she said coldly. “You’re a far better woman to nurse Marshall’s wounds. Maybe with all your virtues you’ll be able to persuade him to walk down the aisle with you!”
By the time Mia reached the last words her voice had risen to a trembling shriek. She sensed the guests around them were all turning their heads to take notice, but for once she didn’t care. She raced out of the lounge and didn’t stop running until she was completely away from the lodge and halfway to her cabin.
Two hours later, her bed was covered with open suitcases and she was blindly but methodically filling them with all her belongings.
The tears that had threatened to pour from her during her confrontation with Lizbeth had flowed like a river once she’d reached her cabin, but now they were dried tracks upon her cheeks. She felt dead inside.
She was pulling the zipper closed on a leather duffle bag when a knock sounded on the front door of the cabin. Frozen by the unexpected sound, she stared at the open door of her bedroom. Could that be Lizbeth wanting to go another round? If so, she was going to use a few choice words to send the woman on her way.
Leaving the bag, she walked out to the living room and peered through the peephole on the door. The moment she spotted Marshall standing on the other side, her heart stopped as though all the blood had drained from it.
He must have heard her approaching footsteps because he suddenly shouted through the door, “Mia, it’s me. Let me in. I’m not going away until you do.”
Marshall. In her wildest dreams she’d never expected him to speak to her again.
Why was he here? To tell her that he didn’t appreciate everyone on the resort knowing that she’d embarrassed and demeaned him?
Her hand trembling almost violently, she pushed back the bolt and opened the door. He didn’t bother with a greeting or invitation. Instead, he strode across the threshold and came to a stop in the middle of the room.
Mia shut the door behind her and forced herself to turn and face him. He was dressed casually in jeans and boots and a navy-blue hooded sweatshirt. His cheeks were burnished to a ruddy color from the cool wind and his coffee-brown hair was tousled across his forehead. He looked so handsome, so endearing that it was all she could do to keep from running to him and flinging herself against his broad chest.
“I—” She swallowed hard and tried again. “I—never expected to see you here.”
Anguish twisted his lips. “What were you thinking, Mia? That I’d simply keep my distance? Let everything between us end as though it had never happened at all?”
Fear rippled through her, making her insides quiver. She turned her back to him and bit down hard on her lip. “It would have been better if you had,” she whispered starkly. “I’m a person that you need to forget, Marshall. I’m—no good.
Not for you.”
“What are you talking about?” he muttered roughly.
“Haven’t you talked to Lizbeth?”
He walked up behind her but stopped short of putting his hands on her shoulders.
“No. What about Lizbeth? Has she been saying things about me to you?”
Mia bent her head, then shook it. “Don’t worry. Only that you’re Dr. Perfect and I’m stupid for throwing you away.”
Moments passed in silence and to Mia’s complete horror she felt more tears rush to her eyes. Dear God, where was this endless waterworks coming from? Why couldn’t she gather herself together and stop her tears once and for all?
“Is that what you’re doing?” he asked quietly. “Throwing me away?”
She squeezed her eyes, yet she couldn’t hide the raw emotion in her voice. “No,”
she whispered. “I—I’m leaving…for your own sake.”
Quickly, before he could stop her, she stepped around him and raced to the bedroom. Once there, she frantically began slinging the last of her clothes into an open suitcase.
Marshall hurried after her. “Mia? What—”
Glancing to see he’d followed her into the bedroom, she cried at him, “Don’t try to stop me, Marshall! Don’t ask me anything! It’s useless. Totally useless!”
She was lashing out at him like a frightened kitten; hissing and pawing, when all she really wanted was to curl up in his arms.
Sensing that nothing was really as it had first seemed, Marshall went to her and folded his fingers around her shoulders. “Nothing is useless. Not when you love someone, Mia. And I love you. Don’t you understand? Don’t you care?”
I love you. How many times had she dreamed of hearing Marshall say those words to her? Too many. And now she had to rip them all away, to smear and mar the most precious thing he could possibly give her.
“I care. More than you could ever dream, Marshall. But—”
His hands came up to tenderly cup her tear-stained face and as the warmth of his fingers flooded through her, she suddenly realized she couldn’t pretend anymore.
Not with him. Not with anyone.
“Then what is it? Tell me,” he softly urged.
She drew in a shaky breath, but it did little to brace her composure.
“I’m a phony, Marshall. I’m not really Mia Smith. I’m Mia Hanover. I—I’ve been using the name Smith in order to keep someone from trailing me.”
Stunned, he dropped his hands from her face and she used the opportunity to turn away from his searching gaze.
“Someone,” he repeated blankly. “Someone like a man? A lover? A stalker?”
With a shake of her head, she slowing began folding the last pieces of clothing lying atop the mounded suitcase.
“No, the only man I’ve ever been seriously involved with was so disgusted with me he left—walked away. He didn’t care enough to come after me and try again.
This person is a woman. She’s—uh—my birth mother. Her name is Janelle Josephson.”
Marshall looked confused. “You said your mother was killed in a car accident.”
“That’s right. Nina Hanover. She was my adoptive mother. She’s the one who raised me since I was a baby, the one who nurtured me as I grew up, sacrificed to give me food, clothing and a roof over my head.” Groaning with pain, she squeezed the fragile silk blouse in her hands. “You see, Marshall, when my father—my adoptive father—died, I was about to enter college. Up until then my family—my life— had been so nice. My parents loved me and although we didn’t have lots of money, I had all the necessities. Daddy saw to that. But then he developed lung cancer and it seemed to take him almost overnight. Mom—Nina—was devastated. For more than twenty years, he’d been her whole life, the only man she’d ever loved. Losing him so suddenly broke her, Marshall. She couldn’t deal with the grief and at some point—I can’t even remember exactly when—she started drinking.”
Marshall’s head swung back and forth with complete dismay. “Oh, Mia. I’m so sorry.”
“You won’t say that. Not when I tell you the rest.”
Putting a hand on her arm, he slowly turned her back to him. “Mia, nothing you say will change my love for you. Believe that.”
As she met his loving gaze a sob choked her to the point that she could scarcely get any words past her throat. “You don’t understand, Marshall. I caused my mother’s death! I caused Nina to get behind the wheel of her car and drive. She was driving to see me—to meet with me because…because I’d been avoiding her—moving on with a life away from her.”
Marshall didn’t make any sort of reply. Instead he cleared an area on the side of the bed and sat Mia down, easing himself down next to her. “I want you to slow down, Mia,” he said gently. “Tell me what happened from the very start.”
She wiped a shaky hand over her face and sniffed back her tears. “Maybe I’d better go back to after my father died. That’s when everything started going downhill.”
Nodding, he reached for her hand and clasped it tightly. “Your father died and your mother started to drink. Did she become an alcoholic then?”
Mia considered his question for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think she was dependent on the stuff at that time. She didn’t have the opportunity to drink too much, she was always working. But no matter how many jobs she had, we could barely afford rent and utilities.”
“What about the farm? You didn’t try to keep it?”
Regret twisted her features. “We were forced to sell it to pay off the astronomical medical bills. There wasn’t much left after that and it went quickly. During that time I began to think that if Mom and I only had money it would fix everything. It would make her happy. She wouldn’t have to work all the time and it would give us both security and all the things we needed. She wouldn’t want to drink anymore and everything would be wonderful again. I thought it was the answer for everything. And then I began to wonder about my real mother. I kept thinking that if I could only find her she might want to help me.”
The desperate picture she was painting struck Marshall like the blade of a knife. It was so far removed from the born-into-riches-heiress he’d first believed her to be and he could only wonder at the suffering she’d gone through.
“You didn’t know the circumstances of your birth?”
Shaking her head, she looked down at his hand closed tightly over hers. “No. Not a clue. Nina didn’t know, either. And she didn’t want me to know. She feared that if I did find my birth mother I might learn something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. But I wouldn’t listen. The image of finding my birth mother had become a beautiful dream to me. One that I wasn’t about to let go.”
“How on earth did you find her? Adoption information is carefully guarded.”
“It took years. I used the Internet and newspapers to ask questions and put out information. I met with any-and everyone associated with my parents back around the time I was born and tried to gather any sort of leads from what they recalled about my adoption.”
“Were any of them able to help you?”
“In a roundabout way,” Mia answered. “One man who’d lived next to our farm, but later moved from the area, remembered that my parents had traveled up to Denver to get me. And he thought that was where the adoption had taken place. With that information, it was logical to assume the records would be there and I was determined to get my hands on them somehow. But that was like butting my head against a brick wall. I begged, cajoled, even tried to con my way into getting a glimpse at my adoption papers. Security eventually threatened to have me arrested if I didn’t quit badgering the filing clerks. Then I finally happened on to a young woman working in the capital building in another department who empathized with my predicament. She was also adopted and she understood this driving need I had to know about my family. She managed to acquire a copy of my papers and mail them to me. After that it was fairly easy to trace Janelle’s maiden name of Laughlin to her married name of Janelle Josephson.”
Marshall tried to imagine what it would be like not knowing the woman who’d given birth to him, not knowing why she’d given him away. The anguish would haunt him, eat at him until he would probably do just as Mia had done. He would search for her and the answers he hungered for.
“That must have been like finding a rainbow in a hurricane,” he murmured.
Mia nodded grimly. “Literally. Complete with the pot of gold beneath it. Janelle had come from a very rich family. Her father was a real-estate mogul in and around Denver. They were worth millions and too prominent a part of the community to allow their teenage daughter to raise a child out of wedlock. They tried to pressure her into an abortion but Janelle fought them all the way.
Finally they appeared to give in to letting her have the baby, just as long as she would agree to stay with relatives living in another state until I was born.”
“Sounds like a pair of real loving parents,” Marshall said sarcastically. “She must have been underage and unable to reach out to anyone else for help. So how did they talk her into putting you up for adoption?”
“They didn’t. After she gave birth they told her that I’d been stillborn and they didn’t want her to go through the trauma of seeing me. They even held a mock funeral to make things look real to Janelle.”
“Incredible,” he muttered with amazement. “So what happened when she discovered that you were really alive and a grown woman?”
Mia closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath.
“She was shocked, but ecstatic. She immediately took me into her home and began lavishing me with everything, clinging to me as though she couldn’t bear for me to get out of her sight.”
“What about her husband? What did he think about all this? And her parents—your grandparents—are they still around?”
“Her father died a few years after I was born. Later on, Janelle’s mother became debilitated from a stroke and she now resides in a nursing home. As for her husband, he died a few years ago of a heart attack and since then Janelle has remained a widow.”
Frowning now with confusion, Marshall studied her rueful expression. “So you came along and filled Janelle’s life up again. That’s good. Good for both of you. Wasn’t it? Isn’t it?”
“In many ways, yes. But on the other hand there was Nina—the only mother I’d ever known. It wasn’t long before the two women were pushing and pulling me between them. Janelle was offering me a secure home, riches beyond my wildest imaginings. Nina accused me of turning my back on her and ignoring her because she was poor.” Her pleading eyes lifted to Marshall’s. “That wasn’t true, Marshall. But I’m sure it must have seemed that way to Mom.”
His hand left hers and lifted to gently touch her cheek. “What was the truth, Mia?”
“The truth?” She let out a mocking laugh. “God, Marshall, I’ve tried to hide and pretend for so long now I often have to ask myself who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing. But the truth was that I grew to care about Janelle. How could I not? She loves me and she wants to care for me. Nina loved me, too, but the more I tried to reason with her the more she wanted to drink. She began to cling and whine and tell me that it was all my fault that she couldn’t leave the bottle alone. She kept insisting that if I’d come home to her she’d get sober and stay that way.”
Marshall’s head swung back and forth. “You didn’t believe her, did you?”
“Not really,” Mia said sadly. “But I didn’t want to give up on her completely. I gave her money. Helped her buy a nice home and a car. I thought lifting her out of poverty would help her see that she had every reason to quit drinking. It didn’t. She wanted me to come home. One day I agreed to meet with her for lunch—to talk things over and try to reassure her that I would always love her no matter where I lived. I had hopes that I could talk her into entering rehab.”
She looked away from him and when she spoke again her voice was as hollow as a drained barrel. “She crashed her car on the way to meet me. Later, the toxicology report in the autopsy revealed that she was driving drunk. So now you know. I killed my mother…she died trying to…reach me.”
Her chin suddenly dropped to her chest and silent sobs shook her shoulders.
Crushed by the sight of her pain, Marshall moved closer and put his arm around her.
“Mia, don’t keep punishing yourself like this. Nina’s death wasn’t your fault.”
Mia lifted her head and stared at him in stunned fascination. “You mean—you don’t think I’m a greedy gold digger? That I caused my own mother to kill herself?”
Her questions amazed him. “Is that what you’ve been afraid of all this time? That if I knew about your past that I wouldn’t want anything to do with you? Oh, Mia, can’t you see that you didn’t cause Nina’s death? She was the one who chose to drink. She was the one who climbed behind the wheel.”
A sob caught in her throat. “Yes. But I made her unhappy. Because I started making a new life with Janelle.”
Groaning, he slipped a hand behind the back of her head and pulled her forward until her cheek was resting against his shoulder. “I’ve gathered enough from all you’ve told me that Nina chose to be unhappy long before you found Janelle. She had issues that you weren’t qualified to deal with, Mia. She needed professional help. Alcoholism is a horrible disease—you couldn’t have cured her just by staying away from Janelle.”
Sobbing now with relief, Mia held on to him tightly. “I came here to Thunder Canyon to hide from Janelle. In lots of ways I guess I thought of her as a coconspirator in Nina’s death and I resented the love she was trying to give me.
I suppose it made me feel even guiltier about Nina. But now I can see that I was wrong about that, too.” Lifting her face up to his, she tried to smile. “You’ve opened my eyes, Marshall. In so many ways.”
“I think you should call Janelle. I’m sure she’s worried sick about you.” He stroked her long black hair with slow, steady movements. “And now that your eyes are open, I hope you can now see that I love you. More than anything, Mia.”
She groaned with disbelief. “I don’t know why. I’m a bundle of trouble.”
“A beautiful bundle,” he crooned. He brought his lips over hers in a long, tender kiss. Once it ended, he looked at her pointedly, expectantly. “This means you’re going to stay here in Thunder Canyon, doesn’t it? With me?”
Slowly, thoughtfully, she eased out of his arms and he watched with a sense of dread as she folded the last of her clothes and placed them in the open suitcase.
“I’ve got to leave, Marshall. There’re so many unsettled things in my life that I need to deal with right now. It wouldn’t be right for me to make promises to you. Not when I need to straighten up my head and my heart.” With a tiny flame of hope flickering in her eyes, she glanced at him. “Can you understand that, Marshall? Really understand?”
Rising to his feet, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “A month ago I probably wouldn’t have been able to appreciate what you’re feeling. I was so full of myself that I never stopped to really look at my patient’s needs or count the blessings that I’d been given.
You’ve changed me, Mia. I’d rather you stay here and not leave my sight.” A wry smile touched his lips. “But you’ve already had enough people pulling and pushing you. I don’t want you here with me because you’re under duress. If you come back to me I want it to be because you love me, because it’s where you want to be.”
Turning toward him, she pressed her cheek gratefully against his heart. “Thank you, Marshall, for understanding.”
29-10-07, 08:43 AM
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