скачать книгу бесплатно
Nina awoke the next morning with a nervous jitter dancing in her stomach. She would see her first patients today. She’d read their files, understood their issues, but it had been a long time since she’d counseled a patient privately. She decided to take it slowly today and allow herself to get a feel for each person who came into her office.
She dressed quickly and gathered her belongings, wanting to be downstairs, in front of the hotel, when Bret arrived. She’d have to find another way to and from work soon. She couldn’t ride back and forth with her landlord every day. Heat enveloped her from the moment she stepped outside. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Her silk blouse clung to her skin, and the thick wool jacket became itchy and uncomfortable. She hoped Bret was on time, or else she’d be a wilted mess by the time she got to the office.
The big black SUV appeared around the corner, and she quickly climbed inside, relieved to feel the cool interior chasing away the heat.
“Good morning. Did you have a good night?”
“Yes. I did.”
Bret scanned her outfit with a puzzled frown. “Aren’t you hot?”
She tugged at her jacket, aware of the blouse still plastered to her skin. Still, she wasn’t about to admit that. “No. It’s my first day seeing patients. I need to look professional.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
Prickles of irritation formed. Why did he feel he had the right to criticize her attire? “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing, if it was winter, but it’s late spring. That fabric is too heavy for this heat. I’m sure it was appropriate for corporate Chicago, but Hastings is more laid-back. Only attorneys wear suits here, and most of them don’t wear ties.”
Nina clenched her teeth to stop the snippy comment on the tip of her tongue. “Do you usually tell newcomers how to dress when they arrive in town, or is it just me that you’re finding fault with? First you hint that I might like to take advantage of the Tranquility Spa, and then decided my shoes were dangerous. Now you’re telling me my wardrobe is all wrong. Your hospitality needs some work.”
Bret gripped the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or suggest that you needed some kind of makeover. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I just meant you’d be more comfortable if you dressed differently. Less fussy and more relaxed.” He sighed. “I’m going to shut up now. I’m only making things worse.”
“Yes, you are.” She regretted snapping at him. After all, he had no idea what she was facing today.
“This is me trying to be helpful. I promised Kitty I’d look out for you, get you settled and make sure you were comfortable. I guess I’m not real sure how to do that.”
“Stop trying. I’m fine. Really. I don’t need any help.”
“Right. Except to get back and forth to work.”
She shot him a glance, but when she looked at him, she saw the sly smile and the twinkle in his green eyes, and her irritation vanished. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so sensitive. I’m nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen patients.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s like riding a bike.”
“I hope so. I don’t want to let Kathryn down. She’s done me a great favor in letting me fill in for her.”
“How so?”
She took a moment to gauge how much to reveal. “My job was eliminated. Her offer was a blessing. I jumped at the chance.” Maybe she’d jumped too quickly. “I hadn’t expected things to be so different down here.”
Hastings wasn’t Chicago. There, she’d been able to blend into the crowd and live an invisible existence. Here, her clothes, her hair and her manner made her stick out like a sore thumb. She was used to being a controlled professional, never letting her emotions show, nor allowing herself to feel them. Over the last year, those emotions had started to build up, threatening to rise to the surface, and she feared that when they grew strong enough, they’d explode and consume her. She knew expressing emotions, dealing with grief and loss, was the only healthy way to get through a traumatic experience. Somewhere along the way, she’d become stuck. She couldn’t go back, and she was too afraid to move forward.
“And I’m not making things any easier. I promise, I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”
He really was a nice man. “And I promise, if I have questions, I’ll come to you for help.”
“Sounds like a good compromise.”
In her office, she settled in behind her desk, making sure her patient notes were ready. Dottie reassured her that Mrs. Alexander was a nice lady, who mainly needed someone to listen to and reassure her that she wasn’t crazy. Dottie felt sure after Nina saw the first patient, she’d regain her confidence.
Thankfully, Dottie’s prediction proved correct. Nina’s self-confidence grew after seeing her first patient. However, the second appointment that morning didn’t go as well. The patient was unhappy that Kathryn wasn’t there. She tried to reassure the gentleman, but he left with obvious doubts about her ability to help, which only added to her anxiety about the Widow’s Walk Club that night. If only she could see the women individually, instead of in a group.
After eating a quick lunch she’d had prepared by her hotel’s room service to bring with her to work, she was ready to tackle the afternoon. She’d have to find restaurants nearby, because the cost of having a lunch prepared by room service every day was too expensive.
Picking up the mail Dottie had placed on her desk, she scanned the flyer printed on light blue paper. Hastings Military Appreciation Day. The event Bret had mentioned. The flyer urged the tenants in the building to get involved and volunteer. Nina’s conscience sparked. Despite her experience with the service, she held great respect for the military. Maybe there was something she could do to help. Something small that would be helpful but wouldn’t get her too deeply involved. Shoving the flyer into her desk drawer, she set the idea aside for her to consider later.
Her next three sessions were uneventful. She doubted she’d done more than hold their place for the time being, but at least she hadn’t upset anyone. Nina opened the large file on the widows’ therapy group, hoping that reading through it one more time would boost her confidence and give her an idea of what to expect.
Bret appeared in her doorway. “I’ve come to take you to a party.”
The last thing she wanted to do now. The mere thought of meeting a bunch of strangers set her nerves on edge. She shook her head. “I’m not much for parties.”
He smiled and came toward her, reaching for her hand. “You can’t say no. This is mandatory.”
Sweat broke out on her palms. “No. Really, I don’t have time.”
“But everyone is looking forward to meeting you.” He tugged her to her feet.
Reluctantly, she stood and took a step, but the carpet once again snagged her stiletto heel, and she pitched forward. Bret’s arms wrapped around her rib cage, but her forward momentum twisted her ankle, leaving her right shoe stuck in the carpet.
A sharp pain lanced up her calf and she cried out.
In one smooth motion, Bret picked her up and carried her to the sofa, and then he knelt down and took her ankle in his hands, gently touching, twisting and probing, examining for any serious damage.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Nowhere now. I think it’s all right.” She started to tug her foot from his grasp. His touch was doing strange things to her system. His gentleness and concern warmed her heart, but she didn’t need the tingles that were shooting up her leg. His head was bowed over her ankle as he checked for injury, and she wondered if his dark brown hair was as soft as it looked. Her cheeks flamed. What had gotten into her?
Bret looked up and smiled. “Looks like no harm was done. See how it does when you stand on it.”
He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into it, acutely aware of the warm strength in his touch. Gingerly, she tested her foot. No pain. She grinned. Crisis avoided.
“Good.” He retrieved her shoe from the carpet snag and handed it to her. “I still think these shoes are dangerous.”
“You may be right.”
“So, are you ready for the party?”
Her good mood died. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? His gallant rescue didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to mingle with a bunch of strangers.
“No. I’m sorry, but I really don’t have the time.” She turned her back, hunching her shoulders. He’d probably be angry with her.
Bret exhaled a heavy sigh and touched her shoulder lightly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you. I wanted everyone to meet you.”
Nina’s irritation waned at the sincerity in his deep voice. He meant well, and he did have a way of making her feel better, but he had no idea what she was facing. “No. It’s not your fault. I need time to adjust. Everything here is so different.”
“I suppose we do take a little getting used to.”
“Maybe next time.” How could she explain that this was a difficult time of year for her, which only added to her stress. She’d hoped the move here would keep her too busy to dwell on the anniversary, but it wasn’t. She glanced at her phone. “I have a patient due in a few minutes, so if you’ll excuse me...”
He held her gaze a moment, his green eyes probing and filled with compassion. “Sure thing.”
She pulled her gaze from his.
He started out of the room. “If you need anything, just ask.”
“I will.”
Alone, in the quiet of her office, she poured a drink from the watercooler and let the chilled water dampen the heat in her throat. She should never have come to Hastings. Never agreed to fill in for Kathryn. It was much harder than she’d ever expected.
She sank into her desk chair, her gaze landing on the calendar displayed on the corner. Her nerves screamed at the upcoming date. How was she going to get through Friday in her present state? Reaching out, she grabbed the calendar and shoved it deep into the bottom drawer before picking up the next patient file and losing herself in the contents.
* * *
Bret marched into his office and closed the door, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d messed up again. He’d convinced himself that the shy Nina simply needed a little push to get her out of her shell. It always worked with his daughter Livvy. A little urging and she could move past her reluctance.
Unfortunately, Nina wasn’t an eight-year-old child. Pushing her had only upset her and shoved her deeper into her hole. He’d have to find a different approach. He knew behind that rigid exterior was a sweet, vibrant woman longing to get out. Maybe he could get a better read after they rode back and forth to work a few times. People often opened up while driving. He thought about calling Kitty, but his concerns would only make her worry about her friend, and she didn’t need that right now.
The bell tone on his cell chimed, and he smiled. His girls were calling. School was out, and they always checked in. He tapped the speaker button. “Hello, princesses. How was school today?”
Livvy spoke first. “Georgie got in trouble.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did too. She had to stay in at recess. She pushed Justin Collins down.”
“Livvy, it’s not nice to tattle on your sister. Georgie, we’ll talk about this later.”
“Okay. Grandpa is taking us to get art supplies. I have to make a poster.”
“Can I make a poster, too?”
“We’ll see. You behave for your grandpa until I get home.”
“Did you have a nice day, Daddy?”
Bret’s heart warmed. His oldest girl was the nurturer in the family. Always thinking of others. “I did.” A memory of holding Nina in his arms flashed into his mind, making him smile. That had been a very nice part of his day. She’d felt so soft and warm in his arms. He shoved the notion aside.
“Will you be home soon, Daddy?”
“No, Georgie, I have to work tonight, but we’ll talk when I get home, okay?”
After a few phone kisses and a couple of love yous, Bret ended the call and closed his eyes, rubbing them to ease the tiredness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get the hang of working and being a single dad. If it wasn’t for Alan, he’d be at the office every night. If the company would turn a profit, he might be able to take on more help, but right now, that was out of the question. They were barely staying afloat.
It was nearly five o’clock when Bret finished preparing for the computer class he would be conducting this evening. He needed to check with Nina about tonight. The widows’ group met this evening, and he suspected she planned on taking a cab back to the hotel. Not a good idea.
The door to her office was open when he entered the reception area, which meant she didn’t have a patient. He stopped at the doorway of her office. She was deep in concentration, no doubt preparing for her first group therapy session with the widows. He had to admire her diligence.
He tapped on the door frame. She looked up and smiled, causing an unexpected catch in his pulse. She had a beautiful smile. She needed to display it more often. “I just wanted you to know that I have a class tonight, so I can still take you home when you’re done.”
“Are you sure I won’t be putting you out?”
“Not in the least. Knock on my door when you’re ready to leave.” She nodded, and he tore his gaze from her pretty blue eyes, reminding himself that he had a lousy track record with women. He scolded himself mentally and turned away, making a beeline for his office.
He had to watch himself where his new tenant was concerned. She obviously had issues, and she wasn’t like one of his vets, whom he could easily connect with. They had shared experiences. He had no idea what Nina had been through. But something about the woman had latched on to him and he couldn’t ignore her.
Chapter Three (#u48386583-7ad6-518c-ad07-56cacedcb93a)
Nina glanced at the clock in her office Tuesday evening, tapping her fingernails on the desktop. The ladies would be here in fifteen minutes, and she was having a full-blown anxiety attack. She’d tried a few deep breathing exercises, several stress-relieving stretches and even resorted to a brief prayer, but nothing helped.
Intellectually, she knew she was prepared for this group therapy session. She’d read the files and all of Kathryn’s notes, and she had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Still, the thought of trying to guide a group of widows triggered all her insecurities. No. Her fears. These women could shatter all the windows in her shrine of grief.
The door swooshed open, and a tall blonde woman entered carrying a large purse over her shoulder. She was dressed in skinny jeans that fit the way they’d been intended, and a soft green flowing top. With her long hair and bright green eyes, she looked like she’d stepped off the pages of Vogue. She saw Nina and a huge smile brightened her face.
“You must be Nina. Ooh, I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Evelyn Clark.” She spread her arms and hurried forward, wrapping Nina in a huge, perfume-laced hug. Thankfully, the awkward moment ended quickly, and she was able to hide her discomfort.
The door opened again, and two more ladies entered. One was a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a simple pair of jeans, plain knit top and tennis shoes. The other woman was close to Nina’s age and wore leggings under a long tunic, and large gold earrings that accented her dark curly hair. They introduced themselves as Paula Ingram and Charlotte Kirby. Nina knew the names from her files. Evelyn had lost her hubby to cancer many years ago. Paula’s husband had been killed in an oil rig accident in the Gulf. Charlotte was a military wife who lost her husband in the line of duty.
The ladies made their way into her office and got comfortable. Nina took a seat and glanced at the door. Officially, there were eight women in the group, but according to Kathryn’s notes, not all of them attended regularly. “How many more are you expecting?”
Evelyn placed her purse on the floor beside her chair. “Jen and Trudy are coming, but Rona has a school thing, and Elise has a migraine.”
Nina checked her file. “And what about Yvonne Monroe?”
The women all wore silly smiles. “I don’t think she’ll be back. She’s met someone and it’s getting serious. I think we’ll hear wedding bells soon.”
Nina remembered several notes in Yvonne’s file. Her husband had been murdered. Her file was the thickest. She had a long, hard climb back to mental health. It was good she was transitioning forward into a new life, but the thought of doing the same for herself knotted Nina’s stomach.
The door opened once more, and two women hurried in. The first was a small woman wearing a simple skirt and blouse and dark-rimmed glasses. The other was plump with graying hair and a cheery smile. Her perfectly tailored linen outfit suggested she was well-off.
“Sorry we’re late.” The older woman grinned and hurriedly took a seat. “I’m Jen. And she’s Trudy.”
Trudy took a seat in one of the side chairs slightly apart from the others, who had gathered on the sofa. Nina made a mental note of this, and then settled in, being sure to make eye contact with each woman and ignore the butterflies in her stomach. “I’m glad to meet you. Kathryn tells me you’ve been a group for a number of years.”
Jen nodded. “We’ve had some come and go. Several have remarried and are living happily-ever-after.”
“Since I’m the new one here, why don’t we start by telling me what you usually talk about.”
The women shared glances and knowing smiles.
Evelyn spoke first. “Well, actually, we want to get to know you.”
Paula leaned forward. “Before we spill our guts, so to speak.”
