My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance) (8 page)

She’d changed...and that change was making him crazy.

He quietly got out of bed and slipped into the shorts he’d left lying in the chair. Checking one last time to make sure she was still asleep, he padded silently across the room and eased through the sliding glass door onto the deck.

The light breeze was balmy and inviting, and a gazillion stars twinkled overhead. It seemed a shame to view them like this when they could be seen in stereo by the water. He moseyed down to the beach, making himself comfortable again in the Adirondack, letting his senses fill with his surroundings. The scent of the sweet night air found its way to his tongue. Stars reflected in the water, accompanied by a summer chorus of crickets and bullfrogs. The water warmed his toes and ankles.

Ahh. Life was good.

So why wasn’t he happy?

He thought about Mags, sleeping peacefully. They’d had a great time together. He’d forgotten how much fun she could be.

But...how could he have forgotten that? And why did remembering it cause an ache so deep it was almost unbearable?

He rested his head against the chair, closing his eyes, trying to remember what he and Mags had really been like. Over the years, his recollections had dulled or heightened, depending on whether the memory was good or bad.

What had happened to the two of them? Why hadn’t they made it? The initial physical attraction had been there. The lovemaking had been outstanding—and still was. Sure, they’d been young, but they’d truly cared for each other. Even that was still evident. A lot of divorced couples could never have done what they did this week—or ended up like this. They were different from the rest. Had always been different and always would be.

So what had made them think giving up like everybody else was the best solution?

Mags asked if he had any regrets. How could he tell her losing her was the one thing he could never forgive himself for? What good would it do to admit that?

He’d come close to saying it. But they were still a world apart. He had the car dealership that supported him, his parents and his sister. Mags had the salon she’d built from nothing—a business that couldn’t be picked up and moved, any more than his could. What had she said during the car ride up?
After Russ, and Mom and Dad, the salon’s the most important thing in my life. It’s my other child. I love nurturing it and watching it grow.

Too many miles and too many years separated him and Mags.

But if there was some
way
...

“Stop it.” He spoke the words aloud, opening his eyes to try to stifle the images forming in his head. They’d moved the only
way
into a college dorm this week. They had no reason besides Russ to give things another try. Not even the lingering shades of love would be enough to dispel the fear and doubt.

And neither of them was willing to enter into another possible failure.

“So...” He pushed himself to his feet and headed back to the house. He would enjoy the time they’d been given. He would facilitate fun memories. He would be her sexual fantasies come to life...and let her be his.

And Sunday, when they parted ways, he would leave a part of his heart behind—the part that lay deep in the pit of his stomach right then. The part that made him ache from its burden.

It was much too heavy to continue carrying around for the rest of his life.

He’d have to find some way to let it go.

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE
TECHNICIAN
SHOWED
Rosemary and Eli to a small, darkened room with several chairs gathered around a computer monitor.

“Dr. Reeves will be right in,” the young man told them, and then disappeared back into the quiet hallway.

They each took a seat, and the chill in the room deepened when she saw the look in Eli’s eyes. He took her hand. “It’s not good, Rosie.”

Her insides started to crumble, but she hoisted herself up on some fake bravado. “Nonsense. You can’t know that yet, so don’t go borrowing trouble.” She patted his hand with her free one.

“I could see it on his face. He didn’t like what he saw. Wasn’t good.”

She started to protest again, but the young cardiologist they’d met earlier that morning hustled in. “Here we are.” He laid a hand on Rosemary’s shoulder as he stepped by her to his seat. Something about the touch held a warning, and her spine stiffened in reaction.

“I know y’all are anxious, and I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” A couple of keystrokes brought the screen to life, shedding some light into the room but not reaching Rosemary’s fear. “The stress test shows you have three blockages we need to take care of, Mr. Russell. The good news is they’re repairable. The bad news is it can’t be done with stents.”

His words caused a blockage within Rosemary, as well. Her mind stalled as the image on the screen swirled before her eyes. Her body took the opposite reaction, though, as only Eli’s grip kept her tethered to the seat when her every impulse was to flee.

“...cardiothoracic surgeon...bypass surgery...” Fragments floated through her head, some snagging on the jagged edges of her immediate fear, others corralled into a dark place where she could take them out later and examine them one at a time. “...eight to ten hours...surgeon preference?”

Into whose hands did they want to place Eli’s life? What kind of question was that? “The best,” she answered. “Whoever has the most experience and the best track record of success is who we want.”

“Well, of course.” The cardiologist’s grin irritated her. Did he think she’d made a joke? Eli’s thumb brushed hers softly, intercepting her angry retort. “All of the surgeons on staff are excellent,” the doctor continued, unaware how close he’d come to experiencing her wrath unleashed. “We’ll see who’s available.”

After a few more questions, he led them from the dark room to the first of many stops. Scheduling. Dr. Heflin’s office—the cardiothoracic surgeon Eli chose. Cardiac pre-op questions and counseling. The lab for blood work. The pharmacy, to fill the prescription of nitroglycerin Eli was given for chest pains he might incur over the weekend.

By the time Rosemary fastened her seat belt for the ride home, her head was about to explode from the amount of information and anxiety she had crammed inside. It pushed at her temples and behind her eyes, making her all too aware of the beating of her heart...and Eli’s, as well.

“Monday.” She cradled her head against the back of the truck seat, determined not to dissolve into the heaping, quivering mass she was on the inside.

“It is what it is, Rosie.” She heard the resolve in Eli’s voice, felt it in the touch of the hand he laid on top of hers. “Better to do it, and get it over with.”

She knew he was right. But three days from now her husband’s heart would be stopped, his life placed in the hands of someone she’d just met and a machine with no capability of knowing the importance of the man it would be connected to. The thought chilled her to the bone.

All the way home, they rehashed what the doctors had told them, with Eli filling in many of the gaps she’d missed. Some of the details were frightening, such as a blockage that had been in his heart so long it had created its own bypass. Others gave her some relief. If they hadn’t been avid walkers for all these years, he probably would’ve had a heart attack.

Rosemary managed to keep her composure for the first few minutes at home as her eyes followed Eli all the way to the machine shop. Then she made her way to the privacy of their bathroom, locked the door and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

She cried until she’d let out as much of the frustration and fear as she could push to the surface right then. There was plenty more in the recesses, awaiting its time.

She rinsed her face with cold water until the majority of the redness and swelling were gone. Then she went in search of her phone to call Maggie and tell her the news.

* * *

“G
OOD
L
ORD
,
WHEN
did you get so stodgy?”

Maggie shook her head in feigned disgust at the shocked look she’d brought to Jeff’s features.

“I’m not stodgy.” His tone was both amused and defensive. “But, if we get caught—”

“We’re not going to get caught, Jeff.” She cupped her hand to the bulge her suggestion had created in his golf shorts. “You saw the course marshal wave to us back on seventeen. He was headed the other direction. And that foursome behind us is so slow we’d have to set stakes to make sure they’re moving.”

Jeff glanced around from the golf cart where they sat, obviously checking out the layout of the cart path leading up to the eighteenth tee box, which sat atop a high hill. A pergola-type structure with flowering vine-covered latticework for sides had been built at the base of the hill, probably to give shade to those having to wait to tee off, as well as protection from wild drives. He wiped a hand across his eyes and grinned. “You should’ve been a lawyer. You make a persuasive argument.”

She could tell he was starting to relent, so she used the advantage and pressed the point home. “C’mon. It won’t take long, and it will feel
so
good.” She added a sexy moan to her voice. “My mouth...mmm.”

Jeff’s laugh, the way he responded to her—had been responding to her for the past two days—was giving her a heady feeling of power. She unbuttoned the waistband of his shorts and had the zipper down halfway when her phone vibrated against her thigh.

Her first instinct was to ignore it, but it might be Russ. She pulled the phone from her pocket to check the ID. “Mom,” she read, and started to slide it back to its resting area.

“Take it.” Jeff buttoned his shorts and zipped back up. “We’ll save this for later.”

“Chicken,” she taunted as she removed the phone from her pocket again and swiped the screen. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, darlin’.” Mom’s voice sounded thick. “Have I...” She cleared her throat. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”

Jeff took advantage of the quiet electric cart and continued on up the path toward the tee box.

“Just trying to do a few things here I can’t do at home.” She flashed him a wicked grin when her answer drew a shake of his head and a low chuckle.

“Well, I thought I better call and tell you about a situation we have here.”

Maggie felt her smile fade. A
situation
usually meant a death or a fire in Taylor’s Grove. “What’s happened?” Her tone garnered Jeff’s attention, eyes full of question.

“Your dad was having chest pains last night, and we went to the ER at Baptist, but his EKG was fine.”

“Oh, good.”

“Not so good. He had a stress test this morning. They found three blockages and scheduled him for bypass surgery Monday.” Her mom rushed out the last words on one breath.

Maggie’s hand flew to Jeff’s arm, gripping it tightly. “Dad’s having open-heart surgery Monday?” The golf cart jostled to a stop.

Her mom’s long breath whispered of despair. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Mom.” Maggie’s heart beat to the rhythm of her rising panic, each pulse pushing a new question to the front of her mind. “Has this been going on long? Why hasn’t he said something?”

“He evidently noticed a pain when he lifted Mabel’s casket last week, but he thought he’d pulled a muscle. Then last night when we were walking, he had pain going uphill but not coming down, so he figured he might have a problem.”

“So, it’s been going on a week.” Frustration at her dad’s stubbornness tightened her jaws. “Is there any damage?”

“No, he didn’t have a heart attack. They want to fix it before he does.”

Maggie’s hope latched on to that bit of good news. “I guess that’s something.” She didn’t know when he did it, but Jeff’s arm was around her. She leaned into him, accepting the support and comfort he offered. “How’s Dad taking the news? Can I talk to him?”

“He went out to the shop as soon as we got home. You know him. He’s acting like it’s nothing.”

“Well.” Maggie turned toward Jeff, speaking as much to him now as to her mom. “I’m going back to the hotel and packing up. Then I’ll head home.” Jeff nodded in agreement and started the cart again.

“It’s already late enough in the day that you wouldn’t get home until after dark.” That was true. Home was a nine-hour drive from where she was now. “And I don’t want to be worried about you on the highway by yourself. Just wait and come home tomorrow or Sunday. You can’t do anything here, anyway.”

“Except be there if you need me...”

The unspoken completion of that statement hung in the silence a couple of seconds before her mom answered in a shaky voice. “We’re gonna be fine, sugar.”

“I know.” She hoped the conviction she’d forced into her own voice sounded genuine.

“Please don’t hurry home. We’ll just see you when you get here.”

“Okay. Give Dad hugs. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you.” Maggie ended the call and slumped back into the seat. “Guess you heard.”

Jeff nodded. “Did he have a heart attack?”

“No.” She filled him in on the details as they followed the cart path back to the clubhouse and turned everything in.

She handed Jeff the keys on the way to the car. “If you’ll drive, I’ll call Russ and let him know what’s going on.”

“I think that’s a good idea. He should at least be aware...”

Their eyes met across the top of the car and they nodded to each other before they got in. It was a little odd that, with everything they had argued about during their years together, they had always seen eye to eye when it came to their son.

“Hey, Mom.” Russ sounded out of breath when he answered.

“Hey, little man. You doing okay?”

“Yeah. I love it up here. There’s so much to do.”

Russ sounded happy, which lifted her spirit some. And, although she wanted to have a long conversation and hear all about his doings, right then she needed to deliver her news and get it over with. “I need to tell you about Grandpa.” She went through the scenario again, answering his questions and making a point of staying upbeat.

“I’m gonna talk to Coach, and tell him I need to come home.”

Russ and his grandpa were very close—she’d worried he’d want to rush to his side. “No, Russ. I don’t want you to do that.” She firmed up her voice. “You just got there. I mean, you’re hardly even settled in yet, and there’s nothing you can do at home except sit at the hospital. I’ll call you and keep you informed of everything that’s going on.”

He paused. “Are you okay? There at the house all by yourself?”

Of course. He thought she was back in Taylor’s Grove. “Yeah. I’m good.” Not exactly a lie. “But I don’t think you should call Grandma and Grandpa just yet. They’re still pretty emotional. Maybe wait until Sunday?”

A disgruntled sigh drifted through the phone. “Okay. But keep me posted.”

“I will. I promise.”

They said their goodbyes, and Maggie leaned her head back to relax for just a minute.

Jeff’s phone rang, and he looked at the ID. “It’s Russ.”

* * *

J
EFF
PULLED
M
AGGIE
’
S
SUV into a restaurant parking lot and stopped. He had to give his complete attention to this conversation to keep from giving away his and Maggie’s clandestine getaway.

“Hey, Russ. What’s up?”

“Hey, Dad. Mom just called and told me Grandpa is gonna have open-heart surgery.” His son’s tone was heavily laced with concern.

“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. When’s it scheduled for?”

“Monday.” Russ paused, and Jeff waited. “I think I need to go home for it. I’m gonna go talk to Coach Brimley—”

“I don’t think you should do that.” His words caused Maggie’s head to jerk toward him, eyes wide with concern and question. “Your first tournament next week is the one that will define your place on the team for this year. You need to be there.”

“But, Dad—”

“I know you’re concerned, son. But all you’d be doing would be sitting at that hospital for hours. This surgery has become pretty commonplace. It’s not nearly as scary as it sounds.”

“I know. But it’s still dangerous and Grandpa’s old—”

“He’s only...what? Sixty-five or sixty-six?”

“That’s old, Dad. And something
could
happen.”

Of course, sixty-five sounded ancient to their son. Jeff remembered when it had sounded ancient to him. “Nothing’s going to happen, Russ.”

“You can’t be sure. We didn’t think anything would happen to Zeke, either. But it did.”

Wow. When had his son become so grown-up? So knowledgeable about life...and death? “I need to be there for Mom.”

Jeff gave Maggie an everything-will-be-okay nod. “Your mother will be fine.”

“You didn’t see her after Zeke died.” Russ’s tone was all mature man, sure of himself and with a take-charge attitude. “She took it hard, and it made her...different. She needs somebody besides Grandma around if something happens to Grandpa.”

So even Russ could tell something changed with Zeke, though he’d evidently never let on to Maggie. It seemed so unfair that his son had to take on the responsibility of supporting his mom during that kind of crisis. Somebody else should have taken that burden off the then fifteen-year-old.

Jeff’s heart squeezed.
He
should have been there for his son and the boy’s mother.

Well, he hadn’t been. But he could make up for that, at least in part...and garner a few more days with Mags in the process. “Tell you what. You know I’m in Lake Geneva, right?” He’d told Russ all about his plans when he’d made them.