A Distant Summer (12 page)

Chapter Seven

July scorched into August with record-breaking temperatures and monotonously clear skies. Summer, always a slow season for the Gazette, was almost bereft of newsworthy events. Deadlines came and went with very little urgency or excitement. It was simply too hot to generate interest in anything other than the weather forecast—with one notable exception.

The community hospital made the front page of every issue of the biweekly newspaper during those long, hot weeks. For some reason that no one could explain, the disputed issues began to resolve themselves into progress. Final plans were made and approved; financing became available through a private endowment and a federally funded loan. Maple Ridge residents rallied, despite the heat, to borrow, beg, or steal the rest of the money needed. And through the sometimes arduous process, Tucker was given credit for every success.

He was quick to deny that his “opinions” had any real significance in resolving the problems, but no one doubted the value of his counsel or his ability to unite factions. It had been slightly less than two months since he’d taken up residence, yet there already were indications that Tucker was becoming a part of the community, a valued member in his own right. And he was becoming a part of Kris’s life as well.

Quietly, one day, one evening at a time, he fitted himself into her routine. He was there in the mornings to share with her a companionable silence and a cup of coffee before she left for work. Occasionally he dropped by the office to sit amiably chatting with Gary or Effie while his smile warmed Kris from a distance. Some evenings, when nightfall produced a cooling breeze, they sat side by side on the old porch swing, talking or not saying a word, close in thought or thinking of things a world apart, never touching in even the most casual way and yet aware, completely aware of the pleasure touching would bring.

If Tucker was discouraged with the platonic nature of their relationship, he kept the feeling well hidden. Kris knew she didn’t fare as well when it came to concealing an inner conflict that grew more serious for her with each day. Torn between wanting to keep her heart safely out of his reach and enjoying and beginning to need the serenity of his company, she couldn’t convince him that she wanted him to leave Maple Ridge. She often mentioned his imminent return to Denver, but Tucker ignored the hints and kept his own counsel, giving no indication of when or if he meant to leave.

There wasn’t a doubt, however, in the minds of Kristina’s neighbors and friends. Tucker McCain was proving himself to be a worthy member of the community and, of course, he would stay. It was time that Kristina settled down with a good man, and Tucker was certainly that. Besides, he was a doctor, a surgeon, and he was helping build the hospital. It was obviously a match made in heaven — for Kris and the community.

Kris hated hearing the rumors that ran rampant through the town and inevitably found their way to her as thinly veiled, good-natured teasing. She hated even more the thought that Tucker was hearing the same rumors, but no amount of denial could slow the friendly speculation. She and Tucker were a “couple,” a team working together for the betterment of Maple Ridge. Although no one had as yet brought up the subject of a wedding, Kris knew the question was heading in her direction.

As the days edged toward September, it became evident that she’d waited much too long to correct the situation. No one believed her when she insisted she and Tucker were just friends. No one even listened when she stated that he wasn’t going to stay in town and take charge of the new hospital upon its completion. Kristina realized it was pointless to argue. There was only one person who could negate the rising expectations and restore a sense of perspective to an increasingly awkward situation. And somehow she would convince Tucker that he had to do just that.

It wasn’t the best way to begin a weekend — especially when it was the first one she’d had free in weeks — but then there wasn’t going to be a perfect time to confront him with the rumors. Still, maybe Sunday afternoon would be better.

No, she had delayed too long already.

Kris tossed aside the tangled sheets on her bed and decided to face Saturday morning and Tucker all in one brave sweep. He would be in the kitchen now, with a mug of steaming coffee and the Little Rock daily paper. He always awakened early, before her alarm shrilled the beginning of another day. It was a habit born during med school and strengthened by the hospital’s surgery schedule, he’d admitted once. It was one of the few references he’d made to his career during his stay in her home. She had learned very little about Dr. McCain, but she had learned much about Tucker, the man.

She knew, for instance, that he read the newspaper from page one to the end, skimming at times but never skipping an article. He liked his coffee hot and black and at leisurely intervals throughout the morning. He enjoyed quiet times and being with her; to her memory no one had ever seemed so happy or so content simply to have her nearby. Kristina touched her lips as she thought of the way he smiled each time he saw her, a soft, secret smile that made her heart feel like a kite tripping foolishly over a cloud.

With a sigh, Kristina pushed herself into a sitting position and ran lazy fingers through her tousled hair. Tucker was too much at home here, and she, well, she was too much at home with him. It was going to be lonely when he left. Her house would never feel the same again; it would never belong totally to her anymore.

Nothing would be the same, not her home or the community or her friends ... or herself.

But this wasn’t the time for such melancholy thoughts. She needed a cool, brisk shower to clear her head and focus the words she wanted to say. She needed to wash and dry her hair, and she really should take a few extra minutes to dress in something more formal than her usual shorts and top.

Oh, what difference did it make what she wore? That would only be postponing the inevitable.

Pushing her feet to the floor, she made herself stand beside the bed. The shower was essential for her composure, but everything else could wait.

Tucker was not in the kitchen, she discovered some twenty minutes later. He wasn’t even in the house, and with a frown she wished she had taken time to wash her hair. There was a sense of anticlimax as she sat drinking a cup of coffee alone, and she couldn’t help wondering where he’d gone and how soon he’d return.

The questions stayed with her throughout the day along with a mounting frustration. When he finally arrived just after dusk with a freshly filleted bass and a big grin, Kris wasn’t in the mood to hear a recount of his fishing trip. For some reason she couldn’t quite define, she was edgy, wanting the situation settled but not knowing where to start. For hours she had imagined the conversation, and now, when he was finally facing her, the words were tangled and elusive in her mind.

“You’ll have to come with us next time, Kris.” He walked from the back door to the refrigerator and placed the catch of the day inside. “Gary has a cabin not ten yards from the creek where we fished. It was unbelievable.” As he straightened, his grin flashed briefly toward the kitchen doorway where she stood. “I wish you could have been there today.”

“I wish you’d left a note. I had no idea where you were, Tucker.”

The refrigerator door closed slowly, and his eyebrows rose in careful question. “Were you worried?”

“No. I just wanted to ... talk.”

“All right. I’m here now.”

She released a shaky breath and made another attempt to gather her scattered thoughts, but composure evaded her grasp. “Maybe I should take another shower first,” she said with a slight smile.

His leisurely smile slanted with a tender amusement. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” He lifted his hand to indicate the faded clothes he wore. “If this were a contest to determine who gets first turn in the bath, I’d win hands down. You look as fresh as cow’s milk.” He grimaced. “I’m beginning to pick up the Maple Ridge dialect. Definitely time for a shower.”

“Then we’ll talk,” she said, finally finding a steady voice.

“If that’s what you want.” He moved toward her, and Kris backed away as he approached. His expression creased with concern as he noted her defensive steps, and he stopped beside her, his hand lifting tentatively to her face. “What is it, Kristina? What’s wrong?”

His palm felt warm against her cool cheek, and the woodsy scent of sunshine clung to his skin. She looked into his eyes and knew the exquisite ache of desire. She could taste the sweet memory of his kiss on her lips, remembered the hard symmetry of his body. Helplessly her tongue skimmed the contours of her mouth. “Tucker, I....” Kris stopped, and her sigh trembled between them. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

He nodded a puzzled agreement and left her standing alone in the hallway.

It was only a little more than a quarter of an hour before he joined her in the living room, but she’d had enough time to bolster her composure. Not quite enough time, though, to be prepared for the sight of him clad in Levi’s and nothing more. Her gaze went to the cluster of dark curls on his chest, dropped to his bare feet, and rose again to meet his eyes before continuing upward to the damp disarray of freshly washed hair. He rubbed a towel haphazardly over his head and smiled in his quiet, special way.

“Sorry, I know I’m underdressed, but I got a little too much sun today. You don’t mind, do you?”

This wasn’t fair. Without a word he’d put her at a disadvantage. His manner, his total lack of tension, the confident curve of his mouth undermined her self-control. He didn’t look sunburned. He looked ... wonderful. And her senses throbbed a message to her brain that had nothing to do with wanting to talk.

Taking her silence as acquiescence, Tucker advanced farther into the room and stood behind the sofa. He continued towel-drying his hair as he watched Kristina turn to face him. Her expression mirrored the calm of a summer sky, but her eyes were stormy gray.

“I suppose you’ve heard the rumors,” she said tentatively.

He slowed the movements of the towel. “What rumors?”

“About you. About ... us.”

“Don’t tell me someone’s been gossiping about us.” He lightened his tone with a hint of teasing but waited in vain for her smile.

“You know what’s being said as well as I do, Tucker.” An edge of exasperation found its way into her voice, and she half turned away from him. “Everyone thinks you intend to stay here and work at the new hospital.”

“And?”

A frown threatened the corner of her mouth as her gaze went to his bare chest. A sudden longing tightened her throat and didn’t ease when she raised her eyes to his. “And they’re saying that we — ” She hesitated momentarily. “They’re saying you and I are well matched.”

“I agree with them, Kris. I think we’re almost a perfect match, don’t you?”

“This is serious, Tucker. It isn’t right for you to stay in Maple Ridge any longer. Already you’ve raised expectations that you can’t possibly mean to fulfill, and—”

“That has the ring of an accusation. Have I raised your expectations? Is that what this is all about?”

“No! I’m talking about the people of this community, my neighbors and friends.”

“Mine as well.”

“Only because of me.”

His temper began a slow rise. “You don’t have a monopoly on friendships in this or any other town, Kris.”

“But I’m not the one who’s allowing my friends to believe I’ll be the new hospital administrator.”

He clenched his irritation into the folds of the towel and then let it slide to the floor. “I have no intention of becoming any kind of administrator no matter what the entire population of Maple Ridge cares to believe. I’m not sure I even want to be a surgeon anymore. But I know for damn certain that I’m not going to stand here and defend myself. I haven’t lied to anyone in this town, least of all you.”

She brushed a sweaty palm over the tan fabric of her slacks. “I don’t think you’ve lied, Tucker. I think you’re raising unfair expectations when you let the townspeople believe you’re planning to become a permanent resident.”

“And I think you’re being unfair when you assume I won’t choose to do exactly that.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Is it inconceivable to you that I might want to live here? That I could enjoy the kind of life you enjoy?” His heart flinched at the look of panic on her face and at the visibly trembling fingers that touched her lips and then the knot of braided hair at her neck. In that instant of utter quiet Tucker recognized a raw physical need to possess her, to take advantage of her vulnerability, to strip away the careful façade and make her admit that she cared.

“You can’t stay in Maple Ridge, Tucker,” she said in a stilted whisper. “It would make everything so ... difficult.”

The intensity of his desire blurred into a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Why?”

She pivoted to the window, rubbing her hand over the sill, hiding her thoughts from him, and suddenly he crossed the distance between them and turned her to face him. Wide gray eyes stared up into his, and the longing to kiss her almost overwhelmed him. Instead, he tightened his hold on her shoulders. “Tell me why, Kristina.”

“I told you from the beginning that you shouldn’t expect anything more from me than friendship.”

“And have I?”

“Yes! You expected me to — to fall in love with you, to be your lover.”

“But that hasn’t happened, Kris, has it?”

“No, not….”
Yet.
She caught herself before she said what she felt, but his heart heard her qualification and began to beat a faint rhythm of hope. “It isn’t going to happen either,” she continued. “I won’t let myself become any more involved with you than I am at this moment.”

“And how involved with me are you?”

She floundered at that. He could see the distress in her expression and knew that she was preparing to deny any involvement at all. He spoke first to prevent her lie. “After all, rumor has us practically married. I’d say that’s pretty involved, wouldn’t you? Have you been raising unfair expectations among your neighbors and friends, Kris? Or do I take the blame for that as well?”