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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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Forty-One

T
eri stirred the boiling macaroni and tasted it to see if it was done. She sometimes overcooked it, and that would ruin everything. This dinner was special—she was cooking for Bobby.

Although she'd been married for more than two weeks, it was the first meal she'd put together for her husband. Bobby was flying in from someplace in Russia following an important match. She'd had no idea the demands on his time would be this constant.

Although he was faithful about phoning each and every day, and often more than that, Bobby hadn't contacted her when he'd finished this match. As far as Teri could figure, Bobby was on a plane. He'd caught a flight immediately after the competition and was landing in Seattle at five. James was with him and would drive him from Sea-Tac to Cedar
Cove—to their home. Yes, they had a real home now, at 74 Seaside Avenue.

Within days of her return from Las Vegas, Teri had purchased the house. Bobby insisted she move out of her apartment and into a place big enough for both of them. He'd written the check, and she'd moved in so quickly that her head was still spinning. She'd learned that when Bobby Polgar wanted something done, it got done.

He'd given her a credit card, which she'd used to buy new furniture from a high-class Seattle shop, including a leather sofa, the price of which shocked her, and a solid-wood dining suite. And then there was the bed….

Eager to show her husband the house and cook for him, Teri had decided to make one of her favorite meals. The macaroni-and-cheese dish was a hit whenever she brought it to the Christmas potluck at work. She had a couple of variations on it, too. Sometimes she added cooked taco meat, which was just hamburger and taco seasonings. Occasionally she threw in some chopped tomatoes.

Teri wanted Bobby to like her cooking. When he'd taken her out for dinner, or—more frequently—ordered room service, they'd always had fancy food, lobster and such. She thought he'd enjoy some more basic fare. Her kind of food.

It seemed strange but they'd been apart longer
than they'd been married. She needed her husband, missed being with him and, yes, sleeping with him. Although the truth was, neither of them seemed too interested in sleep. She smiled, recalling how much Bobby seemed to enjoy the marriage bed. Well, it'd mostly been hotel beds, but that wasn't the point.

Peering out the window, she saw the stretch limo pull up in front of the house. Too excited to wait a second longer, Teri dashed out the door. Bobby hadn't even taken two steps toward her when she hurled herself into his arms. The impact nearly knocked him off his feet. If not for the fact that the vehicle was directly behind him, Bobby would've fallen right over.

Teri spread eager kisses across his face, setting his glasses askew. She quickly realized he wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as he normally was.

“Bobby?” she asked, leaning back to get a good look at him. “What's wrong?”

He didn't answer right away. In fact, it was James who explained in hushed tones. “You didn't hear?” he asked. “Bobby lost.”

Well, those things happened. He couldn't possibly win every time. You win some and you lose some; that was her philosophy of life. In Bobby's case, he won more often than he lost because he was so darned good at what he did.

“He doesn't like to lose, Miss Teri,” James explained further.

“No one enjoys losing,” she said calmly. “Does this mean our entire visit is ruined?”

“He doesn't lose often,” James continued.

Bobby didn't even seem to be listening. James dragged his suitcase into the house and placed it just inside the living room.

“I'm afraid he's taken the defeat hard,” James said in a low voice as he walked past her on his return to the limo. “He needs a bit of TLC, and he'll be fine. I'll be back to pick him up in two days.”

Pulling her husband gently by the hand, Teri led him into the house. “Let me give you a tour,” she said.

He seemed to be in some kind of trance. “Bobby, are you listening?” She waved her fingers in front of his face with no result. Instead he walked over to the chessboard she'd set up on a small oak table and sat down. She'd studied a diagram to position the pieces correctly. Without a word, he started moving them around.

Teri could see it would do no good to interrupt him with a little thing like…life. His concentration was so complete that he didn't seem to be aware of where he was or that she was with him. Rather than pouting or making a fuss, Teri dished up a bowl of her specialty macaroni and cheese, squirted on some
ketchup and sat cross-legged on the carpet beside him to wait.

An hour later, Bobby glanced up, apparently shocked to find her there. “Teri?”

“Hello, Bobby. Welcome home.”

“I lost.”

She sat down on the sofa next to him and brushed his hair aside. “I heard,” she said tenderly. “I'm sorry.”

“I don't like to lose.”

No kidding. “Did you figure out what went wrong?” she asked, looking over the chessboard and the pieces he had scattered about.

He nodded.

“Are you hungry?”

Her question resulted in a furrowed brow, as if he wasn't sure how to answer.

“Never mind, I'll get you a dish.”

“I could wait,” he said, and his eyes held hers for the longest moment.

Teri might not have been married long but she knew that look. “Perhaps you'd like to see the rest of the house,” she suggested. “Shall we begin with the master bedroom?”

For the first time since he'd arrived, Bobby smiled. He trotted down the hallway behind her and into the bedroom. Then he shut the door.

An hour later, Teri lay next to him in bed, sighing
with contentment. Bobby held her close. “Losing doesn't seem so bad when I hold you,” he murmured.

“Good. I'm glad.”

“I'm hungry now,” he said and, as if to prove his point, his stomach growled.

“You should be,” she said, kissing his jaw. “That was quite a workout I gave you.”

Bobby smiled again, and Teri wondered how many people in this world had actually seen her husband do that. Not many, she suspected. She climbed out of bed and got her robe, slipping her arms into the sleeves.

“Do you like the house?” she asked, tying her sash. She'd felt a bit anxious about that, since she'd made the decision without Bobby.

He sat up and grinned. “Very much. Especially the bedroom.”

Teri swatted his shoulder playfully. “Come on, husband of mine, and I'll serve you my specialty.”

He tilted his head to one side, and gazed up at her, his expression intense.

“Bobby?” She wasn't sure what he was thinking when he stared at her like that.

A deep frown wrinkled his brow and the perplexed look gradually turned into one of pleasure—and wonderment. “I love you,” he said simply. “I really love you.”

She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

Their time together was brief, too brief to suit Teri. They had three nights and two full days. Every evening she cooked for him. He enjoyed her macaroni and cheese, and her chili pie, another dish she'd invented, and her broccoli quiche, which she'd made using a recipe she'd cut out from the
Chronicle.
They listened to music and she taught him how to play Yahtzee and strip poker. He preferred the poker.

He liked the fact that he didn't yet know anyone in Cedar Cove. She'd taken Saturday off, so they had the whole weekend, during which they saw only each other—no friends or neighbors. Teri didn't even answer her phone.

Except for the five days they'd spent on their honeymoon, they'd had almost no time together. Those days in Vegas weren't a true indication of what life with Bobby would be like. Now that he was home, she'd been surprised by how little he actually slept. He'd told her once that he spent a lot of time thinking, and that had been no exaggeration. He required four hours or less of sleep a night. Often she found him sitting in the living room in front of the chessboard, studying it intently, working out moves in his mind.

Sometimes he seemed to forget she was with him.
Terri didn't take offense at his lack of attention. Because when he did remember, he made her feel more cherished and loved than she'd ever felt in her life.

When he said he loved her, he meant it. Loving someone seemed to be a new experience for Bobby, and it was important to him that she know how strong his feelings were. Every day they were together he bought her gifts, ordering them by phone or Internet, and no doubt paying a premium for quick delivery. These weren't minor gifts, either. The first day it was a diamond tennis bracelet and a tennis racket to go with it. Teri had never played tennis in her life. Bobby, however, believed the two were supposed to go together and she wasn't about to disillusion him. The following day it was a wall-mounted plasma-screen television with satellite hookup.

When James arrived, Teri had to swallow the words to ask her husband to stay a few extra days.

Bobby held her and then kissed her. She kissed him back. “When will I see you again?” she asked, thinking any more than a few hours would be too long.

He explained his travel schedule, the upcoming matches. His answer was lengthy, technical and confusing. She looked to James for a translation.

“A week.”

“I can last a week,” she whispered.

Bobby smiled and hugged her a final time.

“Take care of him,” she told James, her hand lingering on her husband's arm.

“I will.” He opened the car door for Bobby, who reluctantly climbed in the backseat.

Folding her arms, Teri stepped away from the curb.

“You did a great job,” the chauffeur said under his breath as he walked around the limo. “I've only known Bobby to lose one other match in all the years I've worked for him. Afterward, he sank into a depression that lasted for months.”

“He'll be all right now,” she assured the driver.

James touched the rim of his cap. “You're good for him, Miss Teri.”

What she didn't tell James was that Bobby was good for her, too.

Forty-Two

L
innette had waited for this moment ever since she'd heard Cal was back from Wyoming. After a week, he'd phoned and asked if they could meet.

She had restrained herself from calling him, and the fact that he'd taken so long to get in touch only compounded the pain. Hoping to put them both at ease, she'd suggested the waterfront park. It was neutral territory, and in the early afternoon, there were few occupants besides the seagulls. On Thursday evenings during the summer, the park held Concerts on the Cove, with free entertainment ranging from rock-and-roll groups to folk singers and swing bands. Linnette hadn't yet attended a single one, although she knew her parents enjoyed the outings. It didn't strike her as something that would appeal to her father, but he went, primarily to please her mother. It was their once-a-week
summer date. If it wasn't so ironic, it would be laughable. Her married parents dated more often than she did.

As Linnette sat in the bleachers waiting for Cal, she wondered how she'd react when he told her face-to-face that he no longer wanted to be part of her life. For reasons she couldn't really explain, she needed him to tell her in person. Ending their relationship with a phone call was just wrong.

She saw Cal drive into the lot next to the park and climb out of his pickup. Her heart went on alert, and her pulse accelerated at the sight of him. The memory of all the good times they'd had together brought hot, stinging tears to her eyes. That embarrassed her, and she quickly blinked them away. As Cal approached, she stood up.

He looked tanned and handsome, even more attractive than he'd looked before. He wore jeans and a Western-style shirt, and his Stetson was pulled forward to shade his face.

“Hi,” she said evenly. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” was his reply. He stood awkwardly in front of her, his thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets. “It's good to be home.” No hint of a stutter, she noticed.

She sat down again and he joined her on the bottom bleacher. For a few seconds, neither said a word. To Linnette's way of thinking, Cal should be the first to speak.

“I don't want to hurt you, Linnette.”

Well, it was too late for that. She
was
deeply hurt, and fighting not to show it. She tried to tell him to save his breath, but the words didn't make it past the constriction in her throat.

“I never meant to fall in love with Vicki.”

“You're sure you love her?” That was the important question.

“I'm sure,” Cal said. “We have a lot in common.”

If this was supposed to make her feel better, it hadn't worked.

She could see that he was waiting for her to say something, and despite the emotions that simmered inside her, she couldn't. She'd wanted this meeting and agreed to see him when he'd phoned. She didn't know what she'd expected—certainly not this crush of pain and loss. Perhaps it would've been best to simply walk away and not look back.

Cal glanced at her. “Aren't you going to yell at me or anything?”

She managed a smile and stared down at her feet in their neat, polished pumps. “I thought I would, especially when you first told me. I guess I'm past the angry stage.” She wasn't really, but couldn't see any point in discussing it or telling him it often took years to get over rejection. At least that was how she felt about it.

“I…I don't have much experience in relation
ships,” she said. This grief was new to her, a life-lesson she didn't
want
to learn—or repeat.

“I know and—”

“You don't know any more about relationships than I do,” she told him.

“No, I don't,” Cal murmured amenably. “I think we both liked the idea of being in love.”

She didn't agree with him, but there was no reason to argue. “Perhaps,” was all she said.

Cal sighed and looked out over the cove. “I guess your entire family's upset with me, and I'm sorry about that. I like your family.”

She shrugged. “Mom and Dad both think you're the greatest thing since flu shots.”

Cal cracked a smile. Then, apparently feeling it was necessary to predict a positive future for her, he said, “One day you're going to meet someone who'll love you more than I did.”

Linnette supposed Cal meant that as a compliment, but it didn't sound like one. “I should hope so. I'd hate to think getting dumped is going to be a regular occurrence for me.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“I know.” Then, to her dismay, a tear escaped. Hoping he hadn't noticed, she quickly wiped it away. She hadn't anticipated this heart-wrenching sense of regret and wasn't sure how to react to it. She'd truly loved Cal and tried to help him. Perhaps that was
where she'd gone wrong. Perhaps no man wanted to be helped by the woman he loved—or thought he loved.

“Vicki asked me if she should come and talk to you herself. I—I didn't think that was a good idea.”

“Probably not.” Linnette figured it wouldn't look too impressive if one of the community health-care professionals scratched out another's woman's eyes. The thought produced a near smile.

“I have an announcement of my own,” she said with false enthusiasm.

Cal looked directly at her then, for the first time since their conversation began.

“I've decided to leave Cedar Cove.” She made it sound as if she'd received the opportunity of a lifetime, when no such prospect existed. In fact, she'd be breaking her contract and her lease, packing her bags and walking away with no destination and no plans.

“You're moving?” He seemed shocked by that.

She was astonished that he actually thought she'd stay in Cedar Cove.

“I've always wanted to see other states.”

“You have a job?” he asked.

Not yet she didn't. But it shouldn't be a problem finding employment in one of the small towns that dotted middle America. “Do you think I'd move without a job?” she asked, implying what she knew he wanted to hear.

“What did your parents say?”

Of course she hadn't told them yet. This had been a recent decision—made all of two minutes ago. And yet…it felt right.

She had to leave Cedar Cove. It was difficult enough to recover from a broken heart, but it would become impossible if she had to see Cal and Vicki around town. No, the only reasonable solution was to pack her bags.

“I'm sorry,” Cal said wretchedly. Linnette knew he was sincere. In two words he'd told her he would have spared her this pain if he could.

“Don't worry about it,” she said with a flippant air. “I'm learning lessons most girls learn in high school. I…I always was a late bloomer.”

She stood abruptly, needing to get away. “Goodbye, Cal.”

He stood, too, looking at the ground, shuffling his feet, obviously ill at ease. “I'll always be grateful to you.”

He'd be grateful. Well, that was nice, but it didn't make up for the fact that he didn't love her anymore. Linnette walked home to her waterfront apartment, which wouldn't be home for much longer, and climbed the stairs. Not once did she glance back, which was an accomplishment of its own.

Coward that she was, Linnette phoned the medical facility so she could talk to the personnel
director and give notice verbally. A formal letter would be coming, she said. When she got off the phone, she wrote and printed out the letter, as promised. And then, because she needed to do something physical, she pulled out her suitcases and started to pack.

Forty minutes later, her doorbell chimed, and for a fleeting moment, hope emerged and had her rushing to answer the door. But it wasn't Cal, and she'd been deluded to even think it might've been. Instead Dr. Chad Timmons stood there.

“You've given your notice?” he demanded, pushing his way past her, irritation written on his face. He was still dressed in his whites and had obviously come straight from the clinic.

She nodded.

“I won't let you.”

“Sorry, too late. I've already had that discussion with Alma McDonald,” Linnette said without emotion. “I've written my letter of resignation. Besides, what makes you think you can force me to stay?”

“You can't leave,” Chad insisted, his hard gaze holding hers. “Okay, so you had an important relationship go sour. Happens to all of us sooner or later.”

It had never happened to her until now, and she wasn't sticking around to see Cal and his new girl
friend together at every community function. Perhaps a stronger, better woman would be capable of that, but Linnette couldn't do it.

“Do you intend to run away every time you hit a difficult patch emotionally?” he asked. “Is this the kind of pattern you want to set in your life? Come on, Linnette, get a grip. You're an adult. Act like one.”

The harshness of his words felt like an attack. She stood up to it, though. In little more than a year, she'd experienced two disappointments in romance. She wanted out. Okay, her reactions were childish; she didn't care. Besides, she didn't know why Chad felt so concerned about this, since he was interested in Gloria, not her. Fine, she'd dealt with that, and really it hadn't been so painful because Cal had entered her life. She'd sure made a mess of that relationship.

“Sorry,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I'll let you know where I land.”

Chad frowned. “You're really going?”

She nodded. No one else knew yet. She still had to tell her parents and Gloria, but she was leaving Cedar Cove.

That much was certain, even if nothing else was.

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