Resisting Her Rebel Hero (12 page)

Ignoring the aggression pumping off him in waves, Cassidy locked her wobbling knees and bravely held his gaze, aware that she was shaking inside. She had a feeling if she let him go she’d never see him again.

For a long tension-filled moment he stared at her, eyes blazing with emotions so raw and violent that she had to force her body not to step into his. “Stay, Sam...just
stay
,” she pleaded hoarsely.

A muscle flexed in his jaw and she realized with shock that he was shaking too. She wanted to go to him but was held in place by the invisible
keep out
signs radiating off him. Finally he gritted through clenched teeth, “There is nothing to say. Now move out the way, Doc. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Doc?
He was calling her Doc after everything they’d shared?

Swallowing a bitter laugh, Cassidy drew in a shuddery breath and tried not to show how much his words—heck, his attitude—hurt. “I...love you Sam,” she whispered hoarsely.

His gaze sharpened as though he’d heard her but intended to ignore her ragged confession. “It’s just a walk, Cassidy,” he said roughly. “I need some air.” And when she held out her hand, his coldly furious “I don’t need a goddamn nursemaid, for God’s sake. I just want some damn air. Is that too much to expect?” had her jaw dropping open in shock.

Recovering quickly, she stepped forward to flatten her palm against his naked chest, hoping her touch would somehow get through the impenetrable wall he’d built around himself. “I... Let me help you, Samuel,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “Please, don’t go. I...I love you. I love you, let me help.”

His reaction was swift and shockingly direct. Jerking back as if she’d slapped him, he stared at her in silence for a couple stunned beats before his expression turned into a remote mask, rejection clear in every tense line of his body.

Cassidy’s heart sank and she pressed a shaking hand against the hard cold ball of misery forming in her throat. “Sam—?”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted impassively, frowning at her as though he’d never seen her before, and the cold ball of dread dropped into her chest, lodging right where her heart should be.

Two words,
I’m sorry
,
 
were suddenly the most devastating of her life. More devastating than anything that had happened in Boston. “You’re...s-s-sorry?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “Yes.” His handsome face was carved with cold disinterest, his once beautifully glowing eyes flat and detached—as though she were a stranger. A stranger he didn’t particularly like the look of. “I’m flattered, of course, but I thought you understood I wasn’t...” He made a sound of annoyance. “Well, I’m sorry you believed otherwise. Now please step aside, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cassidy didn’t remember moving, could only watch as he opened the door and walked out without a backward glance. Hours later, when a firm knock sounded at the door, she flew across the room, wild hope and relief shriveling along with her heart when she opened to find not Samuel but the Forestry Services pilot.

Once the pilot left, Cassidy moved around the room like an automaton, gathering her clothing and dressing in stunned silence. She carefully washed and dried her face, ignoring the white-faced stranger in the mirror as she pulled her hair off her face and secured it at the nape of her neck. Then with her raw, bleeding heart carefully locked away behind a coolly professional façade, she left the hotel and headed for the hospital to check on Jim before taking the elevator to the helipad.

She scarcely remembered the flight back to Crescent Lake. Staring sightlessly out the window, she was impervious to the cold, the stunning scenery, the curious man at her side.

Nothing. She felt absolutely...
nothing
.

By the time the chopper touched down, Cassidy was grateful for the numbness. She even managed to aim a small smile of thanks at the pilot before alighting from the helicopter. The ground was slippery with ice as she carefully picked her way to the building.

Fran Gilbert took one look at Cassidy’s face and the blood drained away from her face, leaving her pale and concerned. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Are you okay? Is Jim okay?”

Drawing her professionalism around her like a cloak, Cassidy paused to reassure the older woman. “He’s holding steady,” she said. “I checked on him before I left and spoke to his doctor. He seems cautiously optimistic about Jim’s recovery.”

“I’ll call his wife,” Fran said with relief but kept her gaze sharply on Cassidy’s face then voiced the question Cassidy had been dreading. “Where’s Samuel?”

Cassidy wrapped her arms around herself and forced herself not to react. “I... He had to leave suddenly.”

Fran looked surprised, confused. “Leave? Where did he go?”

Cassidy shrugged as though her heart wasn’t a bloodied, pulpy mess. “I don’t know,” she admitted, pressing trembling fingers against her aching temple. “His message didn’t say.”

Fran digested the news in silence before saying, “You look awful, honey, and you’re frozen to the bone. Are you sick?”

Cassidy didn’t believe her attempt to smile fooled the other woman but she was beyond caring. She was barely holding onto her composure as it was and Fran had just given her the perfect excuse. “I think I’ve caught a bug,” she croaked, instantly ashamed when Fran looked concerned.

“Oh, honey, do you need someone to drive you home?” Fran asked, gently rubbing some warmth into Cassidy’s frozen arms. But she had a feeling nothing would ever make her feel warm again.

She shook her head and resisted the urge to drop her head onto Fran’s shoulder. If she did, she would shatter into a million pieces and she couldn’t do that until she was alone.

“I can’t leave, Fran,” she croaked, her control slipping fast. “Now that...um...” She swallowed hard and drew in a shaky breath. “Now that the major is gone, I’ll need to pull double shifts.” Besides, being busy would keep her from thinking too much.

“No, you won’t,” Fran reproached firmly. “You’ll go home and get into bed. We’ll handle things today.” And when Cassidy opened her mouth to argue she said, “No arguments. I promise to call if we have an emergency.”

Cassidy stared into Fran’s gentle blue eyes and finally pulled away. The woman knew.
Oh, God
,
was she that obvious?

“I’ll get my purse and jacket.”

Cassidy let herself into the inn, aware that she was shaking uncontrollably as if she’d contracted some kind of jungle fever. Sweat slicked her skin and she had to wipe her damp palm against her thigh several times before she could shove the key into the lock.

Sudden dizziness swamped her one instant, the next her stomach cramped violently and the hand that she’d flung out to grab the doorframe slapped over her mouth instead. She made a mad dash for the bathroom at the end of the hall, barely slamming the door behind her before she lost the meager contents of her stomach.

When the retching finally stopped, she dragged herself to her feet. Moving to the basin to rinse her mouth, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and couldn’t hold back a horrified gasp. She was paper-white, hollow-eyed and looked like she’d just survived a major disaster. No wonder Fran was concerned, she thought, eyeing herself dispassionately. She looked like hell. And felt much worse.

Unfortunately, the numbness that had got her through the past six hours was fading and the awful truth of what had happened was finding its way through the cracks in her composure.

Her eyes and her throat burned with unshed tears and her heart felt like he’d ripped open her chest and savaged her. Hurrying back to her room before the dam burst, Cassidy shoved the door closed and she was finally—
finally
—alone.

She sank back against the door, her knees buckling as a ragged sob escaped and the first scalding tear eased over her lashes to carve a fiery path down her cheek. By the time her bottom hit the floor, keening sobs racked her body and the tight leash she’d kept on her emotions finally snapped.

It was over, she told herself.
Over
. When she’d finally admitted to feelings she’d never intended to feel.

Dropping her forehead onto her updrawn knees, she choked back a ragged cry. Samuel J. Kellan had rocked her world then walked away without a backward glance. As if she meant less than nothing.

He’d made mad, passionate love to her then coldly, dispassionately, told her he was sorry she loved him. He was flattered—
flattered—
but thought she’d understood he wasn’t looking for a relationship.
I’m sorry you believed otherwise,
he’d said, slicing her to the soul. And then, when she’d stared at him, her shattered heart exposed for the world to see—for
him
to see—he’d calmly told her to step aside because he didn’t want to hurt her.

He’d calmly crushed her heart...and left.

CHAPTER TWELVE

C
ASSIDY
 
ENTERED
B
ERNIE
’
S
 
supermarket and exchanged a few hurried greetings of “Hello, how are you feeling today?” and “Don’t forget to bring the baby in for his next check-up.” As much as she enjoyed stopping to chat, she hoped she could get in and out as quickly as possible.

She had a long list of items to get for a bachelorette party, in...she quickly glanced at her watch...
yikes,
less than two hours. She also had to get back to the inn and shower and change out of her jeans and stained scrubs top.

She was heading down the snack aisle, tossing things in her trolley, when she caught sight of the sheriff’s car drive past and pull in across the street. Turning away with an irritated mutter, Cassidy checked the next item off her list.

She’d thought she was getting over being dumped in a Spruce Ridge hotel but then she’d heard Ruben Kellan’s voice down the passage in ER. Her heart had sped up and stopped at the same time, which was not only impossible but alarming.

Her knees had turned to jelly and the blood had drained from her head so fast that Mrs. Jenkins—whom she’d been examining at the time—had shoved her into a chair and called for a nurse.

Cassidy had blamed the episode on lack of food and long hours. No one had said anything but she didn’t think they believed her. Later Fran Gilbert had pulled her aside and handed her a pregnancy test. Cassidy remembered gaping at the other woman and dismissing the idea since Sam had used protection, but when she’d had a chance to think clearly, she realized she couldn’t remember her last period.

So she’d panicked.

But when the results had shown up negative she’d cried, great big gulping sobs that hadn’t made a bit of sense. She didn’t
want
to be pregnant—at least, not like that—by a man who’d made mad, passionate love to her one minute, as though he couldn’t get enough, then the next had walked out like she was nothing.

Except it had proved to be a turning point of sorts. She’d emerged from the bathroom bound and determined to get over him. She’d thrown herself into the community, introduced a monthly clinic day for the local schools and a mothers’ support group that she hoped they’d continue after she was gone.

During her visit to the middle school she’d met art teacher Genna Walsch, and they’d become close friends. It was Genna’s bachelorette party Cassidy was on her way to.

Whipping through the store, she piled items into her trolley before heading for the refrigeration section. She selected a few bottles of chilled champagne and then added fruit juice for pregnant guests.

Next she headed towards the deli, where she’d arranged to pick up a few roast chickens, and had to squeeze past two women studying the selection of cold cuts and chatting.

“I heard Patty Sue from the sheriff’s office tell everyone he’s coming back,” the thirty-something blonde told her friend. “No one knows for sure if it’s for good but rumor says it is. I’ve been surfing the net for obscure symptoms that will get me some quality time with him.” She shivered dramatically. “I heard he’s
real
good with his hands and I can’t wait to play doc—”

The second woman caught sight of Cassidy and nudged her friend into silence, making her wonder what they’d been discussing. Or rather
whom
they’d been discussing. Just then the server turned with a welcoming smile and a “What can we do for you, Dr. Mahoney?” and Cassidy pushed the conversation from her mind.

She knew the county had hired two new doctors that were expected to start at the end of the month. She also knew she would have to make a decision about where to go once
her
contract expired.

As much as she told herself she was over Sam, Cassidy was honest enough to admit that living in the same town as his family meant it was fairly reasonable to expect him to visit occasionally. The longer she stayed in town, the greater the possibility of seeing him, and quite frankly she wasn’t sure how she’d feel, or react, if she saw him again.

She’d made several enquiries and had received a couple of good offers—one of which was Spruce Ridge General—but she couldn’t make up her mind. Frankly, she didn’t want to leave. For the first time in her life she felt part of a community, like she was making a difference in people’s lives. She liked feeling needed and appreciated, and she really liked seeing their health improve under her care. It was so much more satisfying than treating nameless masses day in and day out.

She thanked the server and turned, checking chicken off her list. And walked into a wall. Of muscle.

Opening her mouth on an automatic apology, she was instantly assailed by a masculine scent that was all too familiar. Barely an inch from her nose was a wide, hard chest covered in soft black cotton. She knew without looking up past the long tanned throat, strong jaw and poet’s mouth to sleepy golden eyes, that she was inches away from the one person who was able to scramble her brain.

Samuel J. Kellan.

Her stomach clenched into a hot ball of dread and joy, and her heart squeezed in her chest. Taking a hasty step in retreat, she tightened her grip on the strap of her shoulder bag. The dimly lit aisle, the illuminated display cases behind her, the couple discussing what to have for dinner,
everything
...faded.

It was as if the universe had suddenly narrowed to just the two of them. Her skin hummed, her ears buzzed and it was only when her vision grayed at the edges that she realized she was holding her breath.

Expelling it on a shaky whoosh, Cassidy’s gaze hungrily traced his handsome features. He’d lost weight and he looked tired. There was a healing laceration on his jaw and a bruise darkened his sharply defined cheekbone and the skin around one eye.

Despite his features being in shadow, he appeared tanned and amazingly fit. He looked...wonderful, even if the gaze he’d locked on her face was hooded and unreadable.

Her stomach clenched and her chest felt like a giant fist was squeezing the breath from her lungs. So many times over the past weeks she’d imagined seeing him again. Had even practiced what she would say. But nothing,
nothing
could have prepared her for the stark reality of being this close to him again after she’d convinced herself that she was over him.

Her spirits sank. She’d clearly miscalculated. And with the knowledge came a swift rise of self-directed anger. Okay, she was angry with him too. The jerk had made mad, passionate love to her and when she’d told him she loved him and
begged
him not to go, he’d ripped her heart out and told her he was sorry. Yes, well, she was sorry too—sorry she’d been stupid enough to fall for him.

Yet despite all that, she was glad to see him. Relieved he was alive and in one piece.

He was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Cassidy.” The sound of his voice, as deep and rough as she remembered, brushed against jagged emotions and tugged at something deep and raw within her.

She swallowed what felt like ground glass in her throat. “Major,” she said, inordinately pleased when her voice emerged coolly polite, as though they were nothing more than casual acquaintances.

His eyes narrowed and his face tightened before his features assumed an impassive mask. He widened his stance and folded his arms across his chest in a move that emphasized his wide shoulders and the bulge of his biceps straining the sleeves of his T-shirt. He was carelessly masculine in a way that made her heart speed up and her knees wobble. And it was suddenly all too painfully obvious that she wasn’t going to get over him.

Ever
.

She gulped. She’d been fooling herself. He was
it
for her. And nothing she did would stop this soul-deep yearning for him, this ache of knowing they weren’t meant to be. That
she
wasn’t meant to be—at least not for him.

And didn’t that just...
suck
.

The urge to leave was suddenly overwhelming but his big, tough body blocked her way and the potent cocktail of pheromones and testosterone he exuded made her feel light-headed. Oh, wait, that might be caused by food-shopping on an empty stomach. A stomach that was suddenly queasy.

Biting her lip to keep from falling apart, she turned and had to abruptly alter her course to evade the hand he lifted. Thinking he meant to touch her, she stumbled backwards and froze. She sucked in a startled breath and her gaze flew from the hand suspended in the air between them to his face. Something flashed in his gold eyes—something that looked like pain. But he recovered quickly, a shutter slamming down over his features, and she thought maybe she’d been mistaken. His arm dropped to his side.

“How have you been?” he asked softly, and Cassidy’s eyes widened. She clenched her jaw to keep it from bouncing off the floor.

He was asking how she’d been?
Really?
After he’d emotionally savaged her in a hotel room then disappeared for five weeks without a word?

She stared at him for a long moment, tempted to just walk away, but a closer inspection of his features revealed lines of exhaustion and uncertainty. Uncertainty?

Yeah, right,
she thought with a silent snort, and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Um...great,” she rasped, before clearing her throat and saying with a little more composure, “I’m fine. You?”

His forehead wrinkled as though her behavior baffled him and Cassidy couldn’t prevent a little spurt of satisfaction. He was baffled by her behavior?
Well, tough
, she thought, straightening her spine as though the sight of him didn’t make her want to simultaneously punch him and throw herself in his arms. Besides, he’d given up the right to be baffled by anything she did.

“Um...yeah, fine,” he said absently, his eyebrows pulling his face into a scowl.

Ignoring the urge to trace the arrogant arch of his brows with her fingers, she nodded. “That’s...good,” she said vaguely. “Your...um, family must be relieved you’re home safely.” And after an awkward pause during which his intense stare sent flutters dropping into her stomach, she added lamely, “Well, excuse me.”

She stepped around him and escaped towards the checkout counter. This time he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he followed, looking big and bad and deliciously dangerous.

He waited while she paid for her purchases, chatting with the checkout clerk. And before she could object, he hefted her packets, announced, “I’ll walk you to your car,” and headed for the exit. As though expecting her to follow.

She did, quickly, trying to head him off. “That’s not necessary,” she told him, and grabbed for the carry-bag handle. They engaged in a brief tug of war until Sam gently removed her hand and repeated quietly, “I’ll walk you to your car,” his gaze as implacable as his words. His mouth tightened when she seemed about to argue, then he stepped around her, turning to wait patiently for directions.

She stood indecisively for a few moments, wondering if she should just leave her groceries and bolt. But that would only prove he still had the power to affect her.

Shoving an errant curl off her face, Cassidy sighed impatiently. “This really isn’t necessary, Major,” she said huffily. “I can manage a few grocery bags and I’m sure you’re busy. So...I won’t detain you.”

He studied her silently for a few moments before transferring all the bags to one hand. The other he wrapped around her arm and steered her out into the early evening.

Hunching her shoulders against the cool mountain air and the curious looks they were receiving, Cassidy sighed and stepped through the doors. The last thing she needed was him walking her to her car. She was hanging onto her control by her fingernails as it was.

“Where’s your car?”

She shifted nervously and adjusted her shoulder bag. “Major—”

“We need to talk,” he said quietly, implacably, and Cassidy welcomed the surge of anger that followed his announcement.
What the hell?

Suddenly furious with him, and with herself, she swung to face him. “There’s nothing to say, Major,” she said tightly, coolly. “
Nothing
. In fact, you were more than clear about your feelings the last time we...spoke. I get it. I’m not stupid, recent behavior to the contrary. I can read between the lines. Now, if you’ll give me my damn bags, I’ll be on my way.” She grabbed her bags and yanked. This time he allowed her to take one. The others he held out of reach. Growling, Cassidy spun away and headed purposefully for the stairs leading to the parking lot. He snagged her arm in a tight grip.

“Cassidy...”

And suddenly she’d had enough. More than enough, actually. “
Don’t!
” she snapped, ripping her arm from his grasp and turning away abruptly. She sucked in a ragged breath. “Just...
don’t
.” Furious tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she swallowed past the lump of emotion threatening to choke her. She needed to escape before her rigid control snapped. “I...I have to go. G-goodbye, Major.”

* * *

Sam followed silently and watched as she fumbled in her purse for the car keys. Locating them, she pressed the remote and even in the gathering dusk he saw her fingers tremble.

Feeling his gut clench, he reached out and closed his hand over hers. She jolted as though he’d prodded her with a shock stick. Her skin was cold to the touch and his grip tightened when she tried to yank away.

Dammit, I screwed up and now she can’t even stand my touch,
he thought, when that was all he wanted. He wanted to press up against her curvy body and bury his face into the soft, sweet hollow beneath her ear. He wanted to lick her smooth skin and breathe in her special fragrance—warm, slightly fruity and smelling of clean mountain air. A scent he’d craved with every breath he’d inhaled every second of every day he’d been away.

She hurriedly stepped away and waited tensely while he unlocked her car and stowed her bags on the backseat. He then opened the driver’s door and held out her keys. She reached for them, careful not to touch him, and would have slid into the car if Sam hadn’t abruptly pushed her back against the cool metal, knowing he couldn’t let her go like this. Not after the past weeks. Weeks of hell when he’d missed her like an absent body part.