Nightingale Way: An Eternity Springs Novel (13 page)

“I didn’t know you noticed.”

She ignored that and went on, “I know that you’ve continued to do some sort of work while you’ve been at Eagle’s Way. So here’s what I want to know. What sort of job with the U.S. government will allow you to raise your own army? Honestly, that one I just can’t wrap my head around. The only thing I can figure is that in order to do it, you would have to quit your job. That amazes me. After all, it’s something you never would do for me.”

As zingers went, she figured that must be one of her best ever. It was certainly one of her most satisfying. She could tell from the way his expression went blank that she’d scored a hit.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, since it wasn’t nice to kick a man when he was down, but really. The idea that Jack Davenport would declare war on Mexican drug cartels—personally—was ludicrous.

“As I said before, Catherine. Take the dog and go.”

“Fred went potty right before I brought him over, so he shouldn’t need to go out anytime soon. Nic assured me he’s housebroken, and she sent enough food for tonight with me. I’ll pick up some more at the Trading Post when I’m out this evening.”

She set down the glass of water on the bedside table and unhooked the leash from Fred’s collar. The boxer plopped down beside Jack’s bed, making himself perfectly at home. She turned to leave and Jack’s voice stopped her at the door.

“You never asked me to quit my job.”

She didn’t look at him. “No. I never wanted the rejection.”

Cat was reaching for the front doorknob when his voice reached her. “Maybe I would have done it.”

“Maybe Fred can fly, too.”

She brooded about his comment as she returned to her
cottage and began to prepare for the evening’s town hall meeting. No way would Jack have ever quit his job had she asked. She remembered how he’d been …

Cat stood staring at the contents of her pantry. The oatmeal and chocolate chips were calling out to her to make cookies. If Jack were home, she wouldn’t have to worry about the temptation of cookies whispering her name because he could polish off an entire batch in two days. But he’d been gone for six days now, and she didn’t have a clue when he might be back. She could gain five pounds on oatmeal chocolate chip cookies before he came home
.

Firmly, Cat shut the pantry door just as the front door opened. “Honey, I’m home.”

She squealed and dashed toward the front of the house, where she launched herself at Jack. He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her off the ground and twirled her around and around, even as he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss
.

As they did more often than not when he returned from a work trip, they made love on the living room floor. Afterward, as they lay naked and spent, she knew from experience that this was the one time he might let slip a nugget about his job. She lifted her head from his chest and went up on her elbow and studied him. “That’s quite a farmer’s tan you developed while you were gone. You must have been in the sun a lot.”

“I was.”

“Was it hot where you were?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He nuzzled her neck and Cat shuddered
.

“It was a successful trip?”

“Any time I come home with all my parts it’s a successful trip.” His mouth stretched into a smug smile as he added, “But yes, we found what we went looking for.”

Cat’s heart twisted as once again she experienced that left-out feeling she invariably got whenever her husband and her mother were together. “You love the job, don’t you?”

His shifted his gaze to meet hers and his blue eyes shone with an intensity that said as much as his words. “I do. It’s important, Cat. It’s what I was born to do.”

She couldn’t argue with him. The man had an uncanny ability with languages. She knew he spoke at least five fluently and she expected he had a grasp of many more—though the exact number was probably something else he’d never share with her
.

“I suspect that whatever … task … you do has support staff, doesn’t it?”

He chastened her with the arch of a brow. “Cat …”

“That’s what you did when we were dating, right? Support staff? You worked long hours, just like Melinda, but you weren’t gone nearly as much then as you are now.”

He rolled her onto her back and rose above her. “I made you a promise and I intend to hold to it.”

“It’s just … well … I thought we’d be pregnant by now.”

“Hey, maybe this time’s the charm.” He tenderly pushed a strand of hair away from her face and added, “Why don’t we find a bed and work on our odds a little more?”

She didn’t know if he noticed that her smile had dimmed a little. They’d missed her most fertile time earlier this month when he’d been gone. Again. For such an intelligent, observant man, he was surprisingly dense about conception
.

Or else he intentionally ignored it. After all, he’d promised to transfer to a different job when they had a baby, and he did love his job
.

It’s what he was born to do
.

His words echoed through her mind that evening, years and an ocean of heartache later. She sat in the auditorium of the Eternity Springs school, waiting for the program to start and trying to put Jack and his uncharacteristic behavior out of her thoughts. Even as she visited with the teacher beside her and waved to the Callahans and their friends who were seated toward the front of the auditorium, her thoughts continued to drift back to the Cougar’s Lair cottage and the wounded beast within.

Jack wasn’t acting right. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t behaved normally since the moment he snatched her off the street at home. It made sense that he would have changed somewhat in the years that they’d been apart, but to this extent? She’d caught him staring out the windows and brooding more than once up at Eagle’s Way. That had been before his friend Tony had died, too. The Jack Davenport she’d been married to had never brooded. He hadn’t used sex as an escape, and he certainly hadn’t ridden a motorcycle like a death wish.

Maybe his response wasn’t anything to be concerned about, but the way he’d acted reminded her of her own descent into depression after losing Lauren. She wouldn’t wish clinical depression on her own worst enemy. Or on her ex-husband.

Realizing she’d become distracted from the program—not a good thing, since she had to go home and write about what happened—Cat tuned in. Celeste Blessing had taken the stage and was speaking a few words about the changes in Eternity Springs in the past few years. Then she asked the mayor to read a proclamation.

Mayor Townsend cleared his throat and read, “The mayor and city council of Eternity Springs, Colorado, hereby declare the third Friday in July to be Cam Murphy Day.”

The auditorium erupted into cheers and applause, and Cat couldn’t help but grin to see the stunned look on the man’s face. Sarah had given her a recap of his history with the town. Cat understood what a sea change in attitude this represented.

She took lots of notes for her article—including the fact that instead of giving him a plaque to commemorate the honor, the town gave him a bowling trophy.

Next, Celeste gave the pair something Sarah called their “Angel’s Rest wings” and Celeste referred to as the “healing center blazon.” As the auditorium erupted once again, Cat noted that she needed to follow up on just exactly what that was all about.

Then Celeste Blessing spoke into the microphone once again, and as the assembly began to absorb her words, the room went silent. “Now, my friends, it appears that my Plan A is accomplished. Eternity Springs is thriving. A goodness of spirit once again occupies this valley. Eternity Springs is truly a place where broken hearts can come to heal, and you, my dear, dear friends, will spread wings of compassion and love around wounded souls. My work here is done. I’ll use this opportunity to announce that I’ll be moving on to another town, another place, where people have need of my assistance.”

Cat noted shock and alarm on Cam’s and Sarah’s and the rest of the audience’s faces, but what truly got her attention were the words that Celeste said about wounded souls. A moment later, Cat found herself on her feet, walking up the aisle toward the stage as she called out to Celeste. “Your work here is far from over. If you know the secret to healing broken hearts, then it’s time you did something about Jack Davenport. The man is impossible.”

Cam grinned and murmured something to Sarah. Celeste thumped her index finger thoughtfully against her pursed lips for a long moment while the gathering
seemed to hold its collective breath until the physician who had treated Jack at the clinic, Dr. Rose Anderson, stood and said, “I agree with Ms. Davenport, Celeste. I want the opportunity to earn my Angel’s Rest wings, too.”

A man dressed in a sheriff’s uniform called out, “Rose has a good point. I admit I’m envious of my friends who have earned their medal.”

“It’s a blazon,” the older woman corrected in a way that told Cat she’d done so many times before. Finally, she shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Perhaps I can stay in Eternity Springs a little while longer.”

Everyone clapped. Cam leaned over and pressed a kiss against Celeste’s cheek. The meeting broke up a few moments later, and Cat decided to take the opportunity to ask follow-up questions of Cam about his reaction to the Cam Murphy Day announcement.

The man had a few follow-up questions of his own, and by the time the Eternity Springs Combined School auditorium emptied, Cat, Cam, the Callahans, and Celeste had concocted a plan. “Plan D for Davenport,” Celeste declared. “This is going to be fun.”

The sound of pounding on his door woke Jack before sunrise. The dog lying at the foot of his bed lifted his head.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang
. Fred looked at Jack as if to say
Well, do something about it
before lowering his head and going back to sleep.

“Some watchdog you are,” Jack grumbled as he rolled to sit up, grimacing at the protest from his muscles, bones, and skin. The second day of an injury was always the worst.

Rather than reach for his pants or his crutches, Jack solved the problem by calling out, “Go away.”

He wasn’t surprised to hear his door open. Heavy footfalls clued him to the fact that Cat wasn’t his visitor.
Anybody else, he didn’t particularly care about, so he lay back down, muttering a curse against the pain the movement gave him.

Gabe Callahan switched on the light. “Wussy.”

“Bite me, Callahan.”

“No, thanks. I have something else in mind for breakfast. Drag your butt out of bed, Davenport, and let’s go fishing at Hummingbird Lake. My mouth is watering for some fresh-caught trout.”

“Mine’s not.” Jack put his arm over his eyes, shutting out the light. “Go away, Callahan.”

“C’mon, Jack. It’s gonna be a gorgeous morning, full of peace and quiet. We’re going out on Rafferty’s rowboat. He volunteered to do all the rowing because he needs the physical exertion. His wife is due to deliver their first child in a few weeks and his nerves are strung tight.”

“Good for him. As much fun as fishing sounds this morning, I still have to pass.” Jack threw out a calculated excuse. “I need to spend time with my dog.”

Gabe folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Jack figured he’d found a great argument because Gabe’s wife was the vet and she wouldn’t appreciate his deserting his new responsibility.

“I guess that makes some sense,” Gabe said. “It is your first full day with him, and Fred has been shuttled around so much that Nic said he’s a little insecure. We can fish here on Angel Creek. Celeste keeps folding chairs handy beside the creek, so you can sit when you need to rest. Cam said a tourist pulled a big one out of Angel Creek yesterday just a little upstream from here.”

“Gabe, I appreciate the thought, but—”

“An hour. Just give me an hour.”

“Why?”

“Why not? What better thing do you have to do for the next hour?”

“Sleep.”

“Too bad you’re already awake. Get up and fish a bit and then we’ll cook our catch and you and Fred can take a midmorning nap together.”

Jack tried one more thing. “Don’t you have a job to go to, Callahan? You have two children and a wife to support. Where’s the design plan you promised me?”

“Check your email. You’ve had it for a week, and I’m not taking pay for that, remember? You don’t need to worry about my professional life. I have it well in hand. Quit stalling, Jack. There’s a trout out there waiting for your worm.”

Jack gave in and spent a pleasant hour and a half catching, cooking, and consuming breakfast in mostly companionable silence with Gabe, interrupted occasionally by Fred’s spurts of energy and enthusiasm for a game of fetch with a waterlogged sneaker Gabe pulled from Angel Creek.

Once Gabe finally left, Jack hobbled back toward the cottage and his bed, thinking about that nap. At the cabin’s back door, he waited for Fred, but the dog showed no interest in coming inside. “Like the outdoors, do you, boy?”

He opened the gate to the fenced area behind his cabin constructed for tourists who traveled with their dogs. Fred padded inside to a shady spot in a corner, turned around three times, then plopped down onto the thick green grass. Jack no sooner latched the gate and pivoted on his crutches toward the cottage than he heard Cam call his name. He grumbled, “Now what?”

“Hey, cuz,” Cam said. “Sarah and I are headed to the hot springs for a soak. Come with us. You’re bound to be sore. It’ll make you feel better.”

His automatic response was to turn Cam down, but he had a weakness for hot springs and a soak did sound good. It felt good, too, and as he sat submerged up to his
shoulders, he relaxed and mellowed enough to tease Cam about the upcoming Cam Murphy Day.

“I can see it now. Rafferty will trailer his rowboat for Devin to pull behind his truck up Spruce Street while you sit in the boat doing a princess wave to all of your subjects.”

Sarah laughed while Cam stretched out, his fingers laced behind his head, a smug smile on his face. “Maybe I should order some beads to throw like at Mardi Gras. Get the ladies to show me their—
ow!
” Cam winced. “Sarah. That hurt.”