Sweet Tomorrows (21 page)

She noticed the slice of my homemade chicken pot pie, and opened a drawer to take out a fork. “Join me,” she said.

I was tempted to tell her about Nick's visit, but burdening her with my personal problems wasn't a good idea. Jo Marie had enough to deal with already without me weighing her down with even more.

“I don't want to eat alone,” she said.

Hearing that, I basically didn't have much of a choice. I said, “Okay.” I pulled out a chair and sat across from her. Rather than have her ask questions that would eventually lead to me telling her about Nick, I decided to ask a few of my own.

“Remember when we talked about the special healing quality of the inn?”

“Of course.” She was closely watching me.

“You sensed I was hurting, didn't you?”

She took her time answering and then finally agreed with a nod. “You weren't interested in discussing it and I didn't push. But I did want to help you if I could and, more important, I wanted you to know this was a place of comfort and peace. By mentioning it I'd hoped you'd feel welcome and at home.”

“I do. But I knew then, as I know now, that the inn can't help me.”

“Oh?”

“I'm infertile, Jo Marie. It isn't like my stay here is going to cause a uterus to suddenly appear.”

She smiled as if I'd made a joke, but I was serious. “Healing doesn't always come in the ways we expect. It wasn't like my husband was raised from the dead, either. I remained a widow and the unexpected happened. I fell in love again. I wasn't looking for love, I wasn't seeking it out. But there it was in the form of a handyman who was more of an annoyance than he ever was a lover. I found new life here and I believe you will, too.”

I so badly wanted to accept that was possible; however, I was skeptical. Who could blame me?

“I've seen this happen time and time again,” Jo Marie insisted.

I'd heard that before and wasn't sure I was up to another story of how some brokenhearted, defeated guest had shown up at the inn and miraculously had all their problems solved overnight. It was too good to be true. While the inn might have the potential to help others, I knew its powers for good weren't available for me.

“Nick was by this afternoon,” I said, avoiding eye contact.

Jo Marie, who'd picked up her fork, set it back down. “I thought you told me that you'd decided not to see him again.”

“I did.”

“Did you tell him that?”

I could see she was concerned for me. “I tried, but then he convinced me otherwise. He had another one of his panic attacks and he feels I'm the only one who can help him.”

Jo Marie's frown deepened and she propped her elbows on the table as she carefully studied me. “You can't hold his hand for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” Hard as it was to admit, she was right. I might have pointed out that Mark needed her, too, but stopped for fear it would sound defensive, and I wasn't.

“Nick needs professional help.”

“I agree, and that's what I plan to suggest.” Counseling would take time and patience. I knew he'd refused it time and again.

“Do it soon,” Jo Marie advised and reached for her fork once more.

“I will.”

She took a bite of the homemade chicken pot pie and her brows arched at the first taste. “Hey, this is good.”

“I'm more than a pretty face, you know,” I joked, grateful to lighten the mood.

We chatted as she ate and I told her I'd booked two guests that afternoon with stays later in the month. I could see Jo Marie was pleased with how well I'd filled in for her.

“Anything other than bills in the mail?” she asked.

Knowing if she went into her office she'd end up getting involved in the business at hand, I stood and retrieved the mail. I brought it in to her, taking only what wasn't related to the inn, setting it on the table next to her plate. We'd had several discussions about my taking over for her at the inn. Jo Marie insisted on paying me, and I was equally adamant that having a place to live during this transitional time was payment enough. We'd agreed to disagree and had yet to settle the issue.

Jo Marie reached for the hand-addressed envelope and I saw her face relax when she saw the return Seattle address. “It's from Mary.”

“A friend?” I asked.

“A former guest.” She leaned back and looked squarely at me as if debating if she should continue.

“What?” I asked, smiling. I was beginning to know that look. She wanted to tell me another story about another guest and was weighing whether she should or not.

“Mary had such a wonderful story, I'd like to tell you about her, if you don't mind. She's one of my favorites.”

One look told me she wanted me to hear this. “Tell me,” I insisted, and feeling better than I had all weekend, I relaxed in the chair and waited for Jo Marie to continue.

“When I first met Mary she was undergoing cancer treatment,” Jo Marie started. “She was alone and quite weak. Soon after she arrived she arranged a meeting with a man named George. Right away I recognized the love in his eyes. He was crazy about Mary and deeply concerned when he realized how sick she was. Apparently, at one time the two had been lovers but something had happened that drove them apart.”

“She came to make amends?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Mary was a career business woman. Early in her promising career she became pregnant with George's child. She'd just received a large promotion, they'd split, and she moved to New York. Although George was against it, she'd decided on an abortion, but in the end hadn't gone through with it, although she'd never told him she'd delivered the baby.”

“Oh my. So she came to Cedar Cove to tell George what she'd done?”

“No.”

Once more I'd guessed wrong.

“Mary came because she wanted to see her child one time before she died. Amanda's adoptive parents lived in the area.”

“So she made amends with George and saw her daughter all after her stay at the inn.”

“Yes.”

Again, I wanted to believe there was hope for happiness for me, but I remained a skeptic.

Wait a minute. Jo Marie said Mary lived in New York. “Mary's return address envelope says Seattle.”

Jo Marie's smile reached her eyes. It'd been some time since I'd seen her light up the way she did when she next spoke. “Mary lives in Seattle now.” As she spoke, Jo Marie reached for the envelope and ripped it open. She read the few lines and then glanced at me, looking more than pleased.

“Mary and George are inviting me to dinner to celebrate the fact that Mary is one year cancer-free. She says dinner is plus-one and she hopes I'll bring a man.”

“Will you go?” I asked, knowing how preoccupied she was with caring for Mark.

“I wouldn't dream of missing this,” she said as she set the invitation aside. “The real question is who I'll bring with me: Mark or Greg?”

That really was the question, and I knew it was one that Jo Marie was going to have a hard time answering.

It seemed every time I opened my eyes Jo Marie was at my bedside. Seeing her beautiful face was what had kept me alive. In the worst of it my entire focus, my will, my determination was set on making it back to her. Jo Marie had been with me in my fevered fantasy. Her voice came to me as clearly and loudly as if she were speaking through a microphone. One time I was convinced I'd heard her threaten me. She'd cried out that if I died she'd never forgive me. Just thinking about that made me smile.

“What's so funny?” she asked.

I opened my eyes and there she was again. I pulled my hand free of the sheet, stretched it out toward her. She gripped it with her own, curling her fingers around mine.

“Good morning,” she whispered and, leaning over, kissed my forehead.

“Morning.” I longed for the day when I could properly kiss her. I'd dreamed about that, too, kissing and loving her. I had big plans for this woman, plans for the two of us that would last the remainder of our lives.

“Have you been here all night?” I asked.

“No. I arrived a few minutes ago.”

I glanced at the clock in the room and noticed it was barely six.

Her gaze followed mine. “I wanted to be here when you woke,” she explained.

This woman. I don't know what I'd ever done to warrant her loving me. I couldn't stop looking at her. Even now I found it unreal that she was actually at my side. She must have left the inn around five, battling the heavy commuter traffic. Often she didn't leave the hospital until nearly ten at night.

“When I arrived you were asleep and you had this sexy smile. You want to tell me what that dream was about?”

I could feel my smile return. “You, naturally.”

“Really?” She sounded skeptical.

“Yeah. I remember you talking to me while I was struggling to get out of Iraq. Actually, you were shouting at me, mad as a wet hen. The memory was as vivid as if you were standing over me while I struggled with the desert heat.”

“What was I saying?”

Even now I could hear her voice echoing in my ear. “You were threatening me.”

“Threatening you?” She looked amused, her eyebrows cocked with suspicion. “Are you sure that was me?”

“Oh yes, it was definitely you.”

“What did I say?”

I grinned again. “You claimed there'd be consequences if I died on you.”

Pulling up a chair close to my bed, she sat down and reached for my hand. “Guilty.”

“That was real, then?”

“Yup. It was the first day I learned you were at Madigan. The only reason I was told you were in the States was because no one expected you to last more than another few hours that day.”

“Guess I fooled them,” I joked. This wasn't the first time I'd cheated death. I wasn't looking for another opportunity. All I wanted out of life now was to marry this beautiful woman and raise a passel of kids. The thought filled me with happy anticipation. Still, there were complications. I'd been sent into Iraq with a mission above and beyond finding Ibrahim but had been unable to see it through. What that meant for the future, I didn't know.

“You feeling good enough to talk?” Her amusement faded and her eyes grew dark and serious.

“What's on your mind?” I asked.

“I'd like some answers.” She continued to rub her thumb over the top of my hand and lowered her gaze.

I dreaded this discussion. Now was as good a time as any to get it over with, I supposed. “I'll answer what I can, but you need to understand there are certain things I can't tell you.”

She nodded and seemed aware of my limitations when it came to explaining pertinent facts about the mission. Her gaze pinned me to the bed.

“You had government help getting in and out of Iraq, didn't you?”

“I can't answer that.”

Her mouth curved up, as if she knew more than I realized. “I know you did. Milford said as much.”

I remembered the name. Milford had been Paul Rose's commander. It went without saying that Jo Marie must have hounded the officer until she got the information she wanted.

“Your trip into Iraq was about more than finding Ibrahim.” This was a statement of fact. “You had another mission. I don't expect to know the details, but I would like you to confirm that I'm right.”

The mention of my mission brought a heaviness to my chest. Nothing had worked out as planned, no thanks to the bullet I'd taken. I wasn't sure what that would mean for my future. When I looked to Jo Marie, I realized she was waiting for my answer. “You know I can't confirm or deny that.”

She snickered. “The fact you won't is answer enough.”

I grinned. Smart girl.

“Did you succeed?” she asked, lowering her voice to a soft whisper.

“Jo Marie,” I flared. She knew I couldn't speak of it, and I didn't want to admit that I'd failed.

“Okay, okay, it doesn't matter, because you're through.”

“Through?”

“You're finished with the military,” she announced flatly, leaving no room for argument.

“My, my, aren't you the bossy one.”

“I'm not joking, Mark.”

I could tell she was serious, but it wasn't as easy as that. I'd made concessions and struck a deal with the army in order to get back into Iraq. Being a man of my word, I intended to fulfill my duty. Yes, I had doubts and hesitations; I didn't have a crystal ball, nor could I predict the future. I'd made a commitment, and as a man of my word, I needed to see it to the end and make it happen.

Jo Marie studied me closely and I noticed how her shoulders sagged slightly. “You're not saying anything.” She narrowed her eyes. “Mark?”

“We'll talk about this later.” I would need more strength than I currently had.

She bolted out of her chair, walked to the farthest corner of the room, and ran her hand over her eyes. “If you're telling me you're going back to the Middle East, I'm walking out of this room and I'm not coming back.”

“Jo Marie.”

“I mean it.”

I knew this woman could be stubborn, and if she said she'd walk then she would do it without a backward glance.

“You better tell me what you've done.” Then, before I could answer, she made another demand. “Did you re-up?” Not waiting for me to answer, she bent in half and pressed her hands against her knees. “I think I'm going to be sick.”

I tried to sit up but was too weak to manage it on my own. Instead, I pointed to the toilet. “In there.”

She dragged in several deep breaths and waited before she assured me, “I'm okay.”

She straightened, and while I didn't want to argue with her, she didn't look so good. Jo Marie had gone pale and still, as if she was in danger of passing out.

“Sit down,” I ordered, pointing toward the chair she'd recently vacated.

Thankfully, she didn't argue and took the seat next to my bed. A minute or two passed before she spoke. “Just tell me what you've done.”

“I didn't re-up,” I assured her.

“Thank God for that.”

Seeing her reaction, I dared not fill in any other details. The future was unknown. What I did know was this. I was the only one who could do that mission. I'd struck a deal and hadn't fulfilled my part of it. The military might not give me the choice. Certainly I had no desire to return, but I wasn't sure I had the option open to me.

“It's better if we not talk about this now.”

Jo Marie closed her eyes. “Mark, please. What is it?” She exhaled and added, “For the love of God, please don't tell me you'll be required to put yourself in danger again.”

I didn't answer. “Jo Marie, drop it.”

The silence in the room was so thick and strong I could hear my own heartbeat.

“Please,” I whispered. “I can't bear for us to argue. I'm here. I'm alive. Isn't that enough?”

She bit down on her lower lip and slowly nodded. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against the back of my hand. “I'm afraid, Mark, afraid of the future. Afraid that I could still lose you, and I can't bear that.”

“I have no intention of dying. Just minutes ago I was dreaming about making you my wife and, God willing, thinking about the family we would raise. I don't want to risk that any more than you do.”

Her head shot up at that, her eyes wide and full of what I hoped was love but looked more like unease.

“It's a surprise I'm in love with you?” Surely she had to know the way I felt about her. I hadn't kept my feelings a secret.

“Mark, you've been away almost a year.” She stood and moved to the other side of the room. “I've gotten on with my life.”

“Did you fall out of love with me?” I joked, but I needed to know.

“No…”

Just as I'd hoped. “I can assure you that every day I was away you were on my mind and in my heart. All I thought about was making it back in one piece so I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

She continued to stare at me, and I noticed that her bottom lip had started to quiver. This wasn't a good sign. Clearly there was something she wasn't telling me. If she'd fallen for someone else, then it didn't make sense that she'd spend every available minute with me at the hospital.

The only thing I could think to do was remind her of how I felt about her. My feelings hadn't changed while I'd been away. “When we met I'd basically opted out of life. I'd put the matter of love completely out of my mind. I'd been filled with guilt, and remorse, and then I met you and, Jo Marie, I knew. I knew almost from the first that you were going to turn my world upside down.”

Tears brightened her eyes and she raised her fingertips to her mouth as if to hold back the words she knew would hurt me. “There's…there's something I need to tell you,” she whispered.

I braced myself, convinced I wasn't going to like it. Just hearing the dread in her voice caused my stomach to clench. “What is it?”

Dropping my hand, she moved away and asked, “Do you remember what you said when you left?”

“I said a lot of things.”

Her shoulders were tense and she avoided meeting my eyes.

“Are you thinking of something in particular that I might have said?” I prompted.

“Yes.” She eased toward me and wrapped her fingers around the bedside railing. “You said I should live my life as if you weren't coming back.”

I stopped breathing, although I was sure she didn't notice. It felt as if she'd pressed a concrete block over my chest. I waited for her to continue, refusing to prompt her.

“I met someone,” she said, her voice low and uncertain.

She waited for me to comment, but I said nothing.

“His name is Greg.”

I remained perfectly still and tried to absorb the words.

Someone else.

Greg.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” Jo Marie asked.

“What would you like me to say?” I asked. Surely she wasn't looking for me to congratulate her for following my advice.

“I don't know. Something.”

“As far as I can see, there's nothing left for me to say.”

My jaw was clenched so tightly I was afraid of crushing my back molars.

“I…I haven't been seeing him long.”

This was supposed to cheer me up? If that was the case, it wasn't working.

“He knows about you, so I thought it was only fair that you know about him.”

“Do you love him?” I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at her. My teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly.

“No…I don't know.”

“What are you looking for the two of us to do? Maybe we should have a pissing contest to see who wins your hand?”

“What a ridiculous thing to suggest.”

I didn't think so. Here I was pouring out my heart, basically proposing, imagining the family we would one day raise together. No wonder Jo Marie had looked so uncomfortable.