Home to Harmony (9 page)

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Authors: Dawn Atkins

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BOOK: Home to Harmony
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A sharp bark made them break apart. Lady sat on her haunches beside them.

“Looks like your chaperone is here,” Christine said.

“Great work,” he said to the dog, as the heat of the moment dissipated like so much smoke.

Christine untangled herself from him and sat up. “Close one, huh?” She smiled shakily.

He nodded, helped her to her feet and stood beside her. Sex sounded simple, but too easily became complicated. And she was probably right about him. As a young man, he’d been fine with sex alone. At thirty-seven he supposed he
was
an all-in guy.

Christine scooped up her shoes. “He’s all yours,” she said to Lady, then stood on tiptoe to kiss Marcus on the cheek. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.” And with that, she danced away, leaving him uncomfortably erect.

Duty fulfilled, Lady accompanied him upstairs, curling up on the terrace between his room and David’s.

Too agitated to sleep, Marcus sat at his desk and woke his sleeping hard drive with a touch. He’d done this often when sleep eluded him, but rarely did more than read over a few chapters.

Tonight, however, was different. He felt alert and clear-headed. He saw what the opening paragraph needed and added it. Then he realized what the rest of the page required. His fingers moved over the keyboard, almost of their own will, his thoughts flying from brain to finger to screen.

Was this reaction due to endorphins from sexual arousal? Or maybe the result of Christine reminding him of the emotional toll the last year had taken on him.

Whatever it was, he’d been shaken awake and he liked it.

Before he looked up, Marcus had revised ten pages, then fifteen. What the hell had he been waiting for?

Christine. Evidently he’d been waiting for her.

Smiling, he moved on to page sixteen.

CHAPTER SEVEN
C
HRISTINE LAY DOWN
and turned off the light, her lips still buzzing from kissing Marcus. She turned on her side, searched with her leg for a cool place on the sheet, but got nothing.
She was too riled to sleep. She wanted Marcus, dammit. She’d acted like stopping was no big deal, but it was. Very big. She positively
yearned
for him now. She’d bet he’d be a great lover, slow and thorough and sweet. She wiggled against the sheets, imagining his hands being slow and thorough and sweet all over her body.

Why was she so desperate? She had normal sexual needs, of course, but she’d never felt so out of control. It had to be because they’d denied themselves. Usually, if she wanted a guy, she went for it. But this…this was
torture.

Why not have sex? They’d discussed their attitudes. Neither of them wanted a relationship, or even felt equipped for one. Why couldn’t they have a simple physical connection? Maybe they’d get it out of their system and be friends. Sure. Why not? Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Dammit, she was going for it. She jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and took off after Marcus. She would quietly tap on his door and then, well, jump him….

Silently, of course, because David was next door.

Down the hall she scooted, then across the courtyard and outside. Then she noticed lights on in the greenhouse and someone moving around. It was Bogie, judging from the shape of the figure. So late at night? Was he okay?

She’d been so concerned about Aurora, she’d neglected the man completely, breaking her vow to spend time with him.

Guilt stopped her in her tracks. She blew out a breath, reining in her impulses, her needs. It took a minute or so of fighting her urges, but eventually her head cleared.

She’d been running off to Marcus’s room like a sex-crazed teenager. Completely nuts. He’d be dead asleep by now anyway, so he’d come to the door all rumpled and puzzled and she’d end up looking like an idiot and a nympho.

Not to mention the fact that David
was
next door. What if he heard her knock? Or saw her? The horror burned through her like acid. David had begun to bond with Marcus. If he saw his mother panting outside the man’s door it would ruin everything.

Thank God she’d noticed Bogie and remembered her mission here. She headed for the greenhouse to check on him.

The instant she stepped inside, Christine got that peaceful feeling she remembered. She took in the special air, dense with earthy smells and heavy with humidity. It felt like a health-giving elixir.

“Crystal! Welcome.” Bogie smiled so broadly she wanted to hug him. “What brings you out here?”

“I wondered how you were doing is all.”

“I’m doing just fine. I get stronger in here.” He did seem younger and more energetic to her.

The atmosphere was almost like a church, the light extra white, with the plants confident worshippers who expected to be blessed, no penance required. And there was the surprise of fresh growth and new blooms. Everything coming up so brave and proud:
Look at me, look at me!

“I used to love being in here,” she said.

“You always had the touch, Crystal.”

The compliment gave her a spike of unreasonable delight. “I’ve been so preoccupied with Aurora and the clay works I haven’t asked how your recovery is going.”

“Much better since you came. You’ve gotten Aurora to rest more, so you’ve taken a big worry from me. She’s so glad you’re here, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know about that. I think I upset her more than soothe her.” She paused. “You know she asked me to fix up my room since it depresses her so much.”

Bogie smiled. “Aurora doesn’t always mean quite what she says. Don’t let her fool you.”

“I guess not.” That drove Christine nuts. She wanted to shake the woman half the time.
Tell me what you really mean.
But, of course, that would never happen.

“Your mother has her reasons. You have to wait a bit and it will come to you.”

Wait…. Calm down…. Let it be.
That was Bogie’s way, all right. He’d seemed almost invisible to her in the old days here. Even now, when she thought about it. Had he ever had a girlfriend? She didn’t remember seeing him with anyone.

That was sad. He was such a kind and gentle soul. He could make someone very happy.

“Would you like to help me plant these anemone seeds?” Bogie asked, tilting his head at her.

“Sure. Yeah.” She walked down the aisle with him, flashing on how as a girl she would trail him as he moved from plant to plant, touching, pinching, spreading soil and nutrients like a green-thumbed wizard.

He took her to fresh bedding trays and showed her how deeply to push in the seeds. “They grow quickly, so we don’t want to pack the dirt too tight.”

It felt good to work her fingers into the soil. Time slowed and so did she. She became aware of her breathing and her heartbeat. She’d always liked how Bogie talked about what was growing, what was struggling, what was root-bound, what was not.

“So, how has it been here for you so far?” he asked.

She told him about the improvements in the clay barn, the Web site and the new orders, working with him as she talked.

“Does that make you happy, Crystal?” He searched her face with his gray eyes. “What you’re doing here, I mean?”

“It makes me feel useful. I want to help you and Aurora.”

“But what about for yourself? What do you want for you?” Bogie slowly drizzled water over the bedding trays.

“The main thing is David. I want him to be okay.”

Bogie nodded sagely. “A child is big. You want your child to be happy. That’s the most important thing.” Something flickered in his eyes. Concern? Sadness? Then he smiled. “But how about for you on your own? What would make you happy?”

“I do okay, Bogie. Everyone could be happier, I think.” She smiled. “But once David’s fine, what do I want? For me…?”

Watching Bogie gently separate the roots of a house-plant, then situate it in its pot, she let her deeper wishes shape themselves into words in her mind. “I guess I’d like to feel that I’m settled in, safe, surrounded by people I love who love me back, doing work that feels important, that matters.”

She ran her finger along the smooth surface of a leaf as she talked. “I like advertising and I’m good at it and all, but it can seem…well…pointless at times. I’m fine financially. I’ve put away savings, but I’m always afraid I won’t be, you know?”

She paused, thinking how neurotic she sounded.

“Then that’s your work here.”

“My work here is to help you guys.”

“I mean your soul’s work.”

Good grief. Aurora wasn’t the only woo-woo person on the place. Selling wind chimes could hardly solve her existential crisis, but she let that go for now. Bogie meant well and she was touched by his concern. “I guess I’ll have to see how that turns out.”

“I’m just glad you’re here at last.” He patted her arm with surprising force. “There’s time to fix everything.”

“What do you mean? What’s to be fixed?”

He simply looked at her and she was too tired to probe further. She left the greenhouse with dirt under her nails, but feeling peaceful and calm. Which was pretty impressive considering how riled up and desperate for Marcus she’d been before she spotted Bogie. The gentle man had given her a philosophy lesson and saved her from a foolish mistake.

T
HE
M
ONDAY AFTER
C
HRISTINE
and the hammock, Marcus slid into the booth across from Carlos Montoya at Sammy’s Cocina for lunch. They ordered Sammy’s specialty—goat tamales with a nopalitos salad on the side.
“So what’s shakin’,
jefe?
” Carlos asked, sliding his menu behind the napkin holder where Marcus had put his.

“Not much.” Carlos had given Marcus the nickname
jefe
—meaning
chief
—because Marcus had organized their study groups throughout med school. “Something is rollin’ for you. I see that. You got color and your eyes are alive.” He leaned forward and whispered, “
Oye, ese,
you get laid?”

Marcus laughed, the sound rising from deep inside, as if it had broken out of jail or something. “Not quite, no.”

“Not quite? What does that mean? Who’s the female?”

“Christine Waters, Aurora’s daughter. She’s here for the summer. We had a…moment, that’s all.”

“A moment? That code for
blue balls?

“If I were sixteen, I suppose.”

“Too bad. But why the
payaso
grin,
hombre?

“Payaso?”


Clown.
All that’s missing is the red nose.”

“I’m going strong on the book again, I guess. The dopamine rush seemed to have given me the kick-start I needed.”

“So being horny helps you work? Maybe I should suggest that to Rosemary. She’s pissed that I crash before we get busy.”

“Are you putting in too many hours?”

“I guess. Plus all the driving for the New Mirage clinic. Rosemary wants me to quit when my contract comes due.”

“Any chance of getting some help here?”

“Not without funds. If I could get the damned mayor to stop golfing long enough to return a call, I might get somewhere.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Ah, no big deal. That’s how it goes in the boondocks.” Their food arrived and they dug in. “So, you’re writing again. Good on you,
hombre.
” He gave Marcus a high five. “I have to say, why not go for the whole package—write
and
score?”

“It’s complicated. Christine has a son. David. He’s had some troubles, so I told her I’d talk to him.”

“You’re treating him?”

“Just talking.” He paused, sliding his water glass forward and back. “He’s the same age as Nathan was. He even looks like him. David’s not shut down like Nathan, but…”

Carlos set down his fork. “You cool with that? The reminder and all?”

“I have to be.”

“Okay,” his friend said, not quite convinced. He took another bite of tamale, chewing slowly. “So after you finish the book, what then?”

“Then I’ll talk to the partners. Let them buy me out. Hopefully sell the book. And after that…I don’t know.” He hadn’t said this out loud, but his future was a void, white noise in his head. He’d never before not had a plan for his life and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“What about opening up a practice again? You were good.”

“That’s over for me.” He missed it, as he’d told Christine, but he no longer possessed the optimism or the emotional distance for a clinical practice. That part of his career seemed finished. “For now, I’m glad to be writing again.”

He felt more human these days. More alive. That felt damn good. He refused to question it for now.

Carlos aimed a loaded fork at him. “You should go for it with this woman. Christine. If frustration fires you up, imagine what regular orgasms could do.”

“I’ll stick with this for now.” It was far better to keep a level head. Self-control had been his byword through the domino fall of disasters last year and it had saved his dignity and contained the fallout. He would keep himself in check.

“What about you?” he asked Carlos. “What are your plans?”

“Hard to say. Truth is, I don’t feel finished here. I don’t want to walk away,
entiendes?

“I do.” Marcus looked at his friend. “If you did get funding, what would you do?”

“That’s easy. Hire a couple nurse practitioners to keep the clinic going all week, get some basic E.R. equipment, set up a portable clinic to take out to the fields.”

“You need grant money,” Marcus said. “I wrote a proposal for mental health care for the indigent a couple years back. I could see what’s out there. Assuming I can get anyone to take my calls.”

“Anything you can do, Marcus, would be great. Seriously.”

“I’ll talk to Elizabeth. She’s on several charity boards.”

“You two are speaking?”

“Of course.” They’d been too numb to tear at each other. She’d wanted a divorce and he saw no reason to fight her. “I should have asked you before now.” He couldn’t believe he’d been so fogged in by his own crisis he’d been oblivious to Carlos’s.

“You could save me,
jefe.
” Carlos slapped Marcus’s shoulder. “And thank Christine for me, would you?”

“Excuse me?”

“She got you all horny and helpful, bro. Hell, sleep with her. You might come up with a cure for cancer.”

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