Never Let Go (14 page)

She felt like swinging the car around and heading straight back to her apartment, where she had a feeling Justin would still be waiting. Pride and sheer force of will kept her driving south. They were lousy companions.

He has to come to you, she told herself.
He did.
But he has to be ready for a commitment.
He asked you to marry him. What more do you want?
He has to mean it.
Give me a break.

Mallory wasn’t certain where this other voice was coming from, but she wished it
would shut up. It was obviously losing patience with her.

She was still talking to herself and still not finding that she liked the answers when she finally pulled into her parents’ driveway the next day. She had stopped at a motel in a futile attempt to get some rest. She had watched every cable channel available all through the endless night and had even considered calling in to order one of those unbelievable vegetable choppers that could slice and dice and probably perform miracles.

She had barely opened the door of the car, when her mother came bursting through the front door and ran down the sidewalk. “Mallory Marie, are you okay? What are you doing here? Your phone’s turned off and I’ve been worried sick all night.”

Mallory gazed at her in confusion. “Why were you worried? You didn’t even know I was coming.”

“Justin’s been calling since late yesterday. He seemed to think you were much too upset to be on the road and, judging from the looks of you, he was right to worry. You look absolutely terrible.”

“Just the ego boost I needed, Mom.”

“Sorry. It’s not that I’m not glad to see you. Your father’s going to be thrilled. I’ll call your sister and your brothers, too. I’m sure they’ll all want to come right over. How long will you be here?”

“If you call in the troops, about fifteen minutes. Please, Mom, leave it alone. Give me a day or two to pull my act together before you convene the family council.”

Her mother looked hurt. “I just wasn’t sure how long you planned to stay. I wanted to be sure everyone had a chance to visit with you.”

Mallory relented. “I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks. I don’t
know. I’m just so tired.”

That immediately put her mother on another track entirely. “Well, of course you are. What am I thinking of? You go right on back to your room and take a nap. I’ll have a nice dinner ready when you come out.”

Mallory gave her mother a hug and wandered down the hall in a daze. When she came out of the bedroom a few hours later, she heard her mother’s hushed voice.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with her. She won’t say a word, but that man from San Francisco’s been calling all day. Maybe they had a fight. No. Don’t come over. She says she doesn’t want to see anyone quite yet. Yes, dear, I’ll try not to worry.”

Mallory poked her head through the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, my, well, she’s up now,” her mother said brightly. “I’ve got to go.” She cast a hopeful look in Mallory’s direction. “Would you like to talk to your sister?”

“Tell her hello and that I’ll call her later.” Mallory was not up to an inquisition. She was not up to much of anything. In fact, she felt as though she might very well spend the next couple of weeks in bed with the covers pulled over her head. With any luck, she’d suffocate.

When her mother had hung up, Mallory offered to help with the dinner preparations. She reached for a knife to slice the carrots, but it was snatched out of her reach. Apparently her mother didn’t think she was ready to be trusted with sharp objects. “I was just going to cut the carrots,” Mallory grumbled.

“There’s no need, dear. Not on your first night home. Just sit here and talk to me.”

“How’s Dad?”

“Your father’s fine. I’m a little concerned about this heat, though.
It seems to take a lot out of him.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past twenty years.”

“Well, it’s been true for the past twenty years,” she said, clearly miffed by the observation. “As people get older things like that affect them more.”

“I see.”

The knife clattered to the table, and the carrots were pushed aside. Mallory knew a serious moment when she saw it coming. Her mother had lost patience and was about to launch an all-out assault until she got some straight answers.

“So,” she began innocently enough, “tell me more about this Justin. You’ve only mentioned him once or twice on the phone, but I could tell he was someone important in your life, even before he started calling here every half hour.”

“Mother!”

“Aren’t I supposed to ask personal questions?” “Can’t we just leave it alone for tonight?”

“Not when I see you sitting there with circles under your eyes—you could use some eye drops, by the way—and a glum expression. You haven’t looked this way since…” Her voice trailed off in confusion.

“Since Alan died.” Mallory completed the thought for her. She sighed. “I know. I haven’t felt this way since then.”

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” her mother urged. “You’re the great believer in talking. People pay you a fortune to listen to them talk about their problems. I won’t even charge.”

“I don’t know where to begin. I think this is one time I need to muddle through on my own. Maybe when I’ve had some time to sort it all out, I’ll be able to talk about it. Okay?”

Her mother hugged her. It
felt good, but it didn’t make the pain go away the way hugs had when she was a child.

“I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready,” her mother promised just as the phone rang.

“Oh, hello, Justin,” her mother said, staring at her pointedly. Mallory’s heart did a traitorous flip, but she shook her head. “Yes, she’s here. She got in a few hours ago, but she’s resting. Yes, of course, dear, I’ll tell her you called. Would you like me to have her call you back? I see. Okay, then. Goodbye, Justin.”

She regarded Mallory peculiarly. “He doesn’t want you to call back.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Then why has he been calling here, if he didn’t want to talk to you? Did he do something to upset you, Mallory?”

How did you explain to your mother that the man you loved had asked you to marry him, then rescinded the offer, made it again, only to rescind it yet another time when the subject of kids came up? How did you tell her that the man you loved was an absolute fool, who had no idea of all the good qualities he possessed? How did you say any of that without giving entirely the wrong impression of the man or of your own good sense? Mallory had no idea, so she kept her mouth clamped firmly shut.

Justin hung up the phone and sat staring at it blankly. Thank God, Mallory had finally gotten home. He hadn’t been absolutely certain that that
was where she was headed, but instinct told him she’d want the security and love of her family when she was going through an emotional upheaval. If she hadn’t been there, he’d have turned the entire state of California upside down until he found her.

Then what?

Then he’d have sat telling himself he was an idiot for letting the woman get away, just as he was doing now. He was also telling himself he couldn’t go after her. Not until he worked through all these conflicting emotions that were tearing at his insides. The only thing he knew for certain was that he loved Mallory Blake more than he’d ever imagined he could love anyone. That truth shone through all the others and made him want to try like crazy to make sense of the rest.

He would have preferred to do that with her nearby. At least knowing that she was in the hospital, catching an occasional glimpse of her moving briskly through the halls, had kept him going. Damn it all. It was Dr. Marshall’s fault that she was gone. What had the man been thinking of to suggest that there was something unprofessional in her caring so much for Davey? Mallory should never be made to question the depth of her concern for her patients. It was what made her such a good psychologist.

With that thought in mind, he leaped to his feet and tore through the hospital in search of the psychology chief. He found him in his stuffy, dark office on the third floor.

Justin had only met Dr. Marshall once or twice at faculty-resident functions, but he’d always struck Justin as a bit of a pompous jerk. In fact, he’d reminded him all too much of the overbearing, self-indulgent
psychologist who’d gotten involved with Justin’s mother, when he was supposed to be treating her.

“Dr. Marshall, I think there are a few things you and I need to discuss.”

The man’s head snapped up and he blinked furiously at Justin. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dr. Whitmore, neurosurgery. Davey Landers is my patient.”

“Of course. Of course. I’ve heard a great deal about your extraordinary efforts to save that boy’s life. I congratulate you. I hear he has made a remarkable recovery.” The words of praise seemed genuine, which momentarily startled Justin.

“Thank you. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Why did you take Dr. Blake off that case?”

“I felt it was best for the boy…” He raised a silencing hand when Justin would have interrupted. “And for Dr. Blake.”

“I’m not buying it. There was no reason to remove her. She was doing an excellent job with Davey. He’s a happy, stable little boy again, thanks to her.”

Dr. Marshall leaned back in his chair and to Justin’s amazement, his eyes were twinkling. “I see. I seem to recall hearing that you don’t have much use for psychologists, Dr. Whitmore. What changed your mind with regard to Dr. Blake?”

“I just told you. I’ve watched her work with Davey. She’s very good. You’ll never find a psychologist who cares more about the well-being of her patients.”

“I think that’s probably true. Unfortunately, I’m not so sure she was thinking quite enough about herself in this case.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Whitmore, I’m going to be frank with you. It’s evident to me that
you—” he hesitated a fraction of a second as he chose his next word carefully “—
respect
Dr. Blake a great deal. I have to wonder, though, how well you really know her.”

“Quite well, I think.”

“Perhaps. Are you aware that she lost her husband little more than a year ago?”

“She’s mentioned it, yes. What does that have to do with Davey?”

“It’s human nature, Dr. Whitmore, to attempt to fill a void. Davey needed someone like Dr. Blake, but no more than she needed him. She was growing far too attached to the child. In suggesting that she take some time off, I was merely trying to get her to recognize that attachment, to take action to prevent her from suffering another loss. That is what it would have come to had she not been the one to let go. Davey will leave this hospital soon, either with a member of his family or a court-appointed guardian. It would not have been good for either one of them to hold on to each other.”

Justin listened to what the psychologist was saying and felt all of the fight drain out of him. He had come up here to tell off an enemy and had found, instead, an ally, a man whose respect for Mallory equaled his own, a man far more compassionate than he’d expected.

“Then you weren’t trying to tell Mallory that she was a bad psychologist?”

“Quite the contrary. I think she’s one of the best we’ve ever had on staff. I wanted to be sure she’d learn to save some of herself for future patients. No doctor—whether psychologist or even
neurosurgeon—can afford to share too much of himself with his patients. You have to hold a little back in order to survive. It doesn’t mean you don’t care, only that you know how to preserve your objectivity.”

Justin stood then and held out his hand. “Thank you, Dr. Marshall. You have no idea how much this talk has meant to me. Do you know when Dr. Blake will be coming back?”

“She took a three-week leave. I’d say we can expect her here by the end of the month.”

Three weeks, Justin thought
as he walked away. It seemed like an eternity. Would it be nearly enough time for him to get his own life in perspective?

E
ver since his talk with Dr. Marshall, Justin had wandered around the hospital in a daze. He had performed skillfully in the operating room. If anything, he was more obsessed than ever with his work, but he wasn’t happy. It no longer brought him the fulfillment it once had. He missed sharing his triumphs and his concerns with the one woman who had ever loved him totally and without reserve.

It still astonished him that a woman as wonderfully sensitive, bright and attractive as Mallory could know all of his flaws and love him just the same. Wasn’t it about time, then, that he learned to love himself?

As a child he’d been convinced
that he couldn’t possibly have any good qualities, that he wasn’t worthy of love, but that was the reaction of a boy to a situation that was beyond his understanding. He was an adult now and, damn it all, he did have good qualities. It had taken Mallory to bring them out, to nurture them until he believed in himself, not just as a surgeon, but as a man.

He loved her, for giving him that new sense of confidence and self-worth and for so much more. He loved her for the joy, the laughter, even the persistent nagging she had brought into his life. The latter, as irritating as it sometimes had been, was only a sign of the depth of her caring. He was all the stronger because of it. He wished she were here now, so he could tell her in person just how much she had given him.

Still, he told himself it was better that she was gone. Despite his desire to put the past behind him, to build a new future with Mallory, too much of the past lingered to torment him. What if he and Mallory married and had children and he found that he was incapable of being a kind, loving parent, the type of father he’d always wanted? Certainly his experience with Linda’s daughter had shown him that he was far too short on patience. It was a fact that he didn’t dare to ignore. It was the one stumbling block that kept him from going after Mallory.

He was sitting in the staff lounge near the recovery room waiting to check on a postsurgical patient, when he heard a familiar laugh and looked up to see an almost-forgotten smile, a smile he once had loved. Now it sent a chill through him.

Linda! Dear God, why now? Was
it an omen, a reminder of all he was incapable of being? How could he put the past behind him when it was staring him in the face?

Linda’s smile brightened instantly when she spotted him, wavered and then faded as she saw the scowl on his face and realized it was meant for her.

“Justin, how are you?” Her voice was soft, with just the slightest hint of restraint.

“Hello, Linda,” he said stiffly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Eight years.”

“What are you doing here?”

She gestured at her own scrubs. “Come now. You were always an astute man. What does it look like?”

“You’ve transferred to Fairview?” He couldn’t begin to hide his dismay. “Why? I thought you were happy with your old job.”

Her faint grin was rueful. “That’s just it. After all those years it had grown too old, too familiar. I needed a challenge. I’ll be supervising the afternoon shift here, with a good chance to move up to director of nursing for the operating room in a couple of years.”

“Congratulations,” Justin said, though the word seemed to catch in his throat. The thought of running into her every day, of working with her, of dredging up old memories time after time made a hard knot form in his stomach.

She was regarding him perceptively. “You always were a lousy liar, Justin. You’re not one bit happy to see me or to hear that I’m going to be around for a while. Want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to say. We said it all eight years ago.”

“No,” she contradicted. “You walked out on me and when I tried to find
out why, you said a lot of things that didn’t make any sense. I’ve never really understood what happened. If we’re going to have to work together here—and I don’t see any way around that—then we’d better put the past behind us.”

The words echoed hollowly in his head. It was all he had wanted, too, and he knew it could never happen. “I have to go check on a patient,” he said, moving toward the door. She put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Justin, don’t run from this. Have lunch with me, get things out in the open.”

He regarded her curiously. “Why, Linda? Why is this so important to you?”

She chuckled, obviously amused by the caution in his voice. “I’m not trying to start things up again, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m married now. Happily, I might add. But you meant a lot to me once, and I’d like to end the tension. I’d also like to understand what went wrong. You know me—I never was one to like any loose threads dangling around in my life.”

He nodded curtly, relieved on one level, yet still troubled. Linda might very well have answers for him, insights into his personality that no one else had. Would they be the answers he wanted to hear? If there was to be any hope for him and Mallory, he had to find out.

“Noon,” he said at last. “There’s a coffee shop across the street. I’ll meet you there.”

The rest of the morning seemed interminable, touched by an unlikely combination of anticipation and dread. Justin felt as though he were on a singularly unstable plank across a deep chasm, his whole life in the
balance. On one side, the future was bright with possibilities. Mallory’s face danced before his eyes. She beckoned to him, and his body tightened with arousal as it always did at the merest thought of her. On the other side of the chasm was emptiness, years of loneliness that stretched endlessly ahead.

Linda was waiting for him when he finally raced across the street and into the crowded coffee shop at 12:15. A cup of coffee and a chef’s salad were already on the table at his place. He smiled despite himself.

“Reading my mind again?”

“Nope. Just figuring that some things aren’t likely to change much. Still take your Russian dressing on the side?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I’ve never figured out why. You dump every bit of it onto the salad anyway. Why not let them do it in the kitchen?”

“It’s the closest I ever get to cooking.”

“I’m amazed you haven’t starved.” She studied him closely. “Or is there a woman in your life to do the cooking?”

He sighed. “There was…until recently.”

“What happened?”

“She went away, and I didn’t try hard enough to stop her.”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t. She deserves much more than I could give her.”

“Your decision or hers?”

“Mine mostly.”

“Still playing God with other people’s emotions, I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always did
put your own interpretation on a situation and to hell with what anyone else thought or felt. That’s what you did with me, anyway.”

“How can you say that after what I did to Amy?”

To Justin’s amazement, Linda’s expression was incredulous. “What you did to Amy? Exactly what do you think you did to her?”

“I yelled at her.” He hesitated, and Linda waited expectantly.

“That’s it?”

It took every bit of his strength, and still the words seemed to be wrenched from him. “I wanted to hit her.”

“She deserved it,” Linda said very quietly.

Justin’s eyes widened, and his heart began to pound. “What are you saying?”

Linda reached across and touched his hand. The gesture was compassionate and filled with regret. “Oh, Justin, is that what this is all about? You’ve been torturing yourself because you got angry at a little girl? Don’t you realize that not a parent alive doesn’t get furious with their kids at one time or another?”

“But I wanted to hit her, damn it. I almost did.”

“But you didn’t. Even though she deserved it, you didn’t touch her. You just yelled. I’m the one who spanked her for drawing all over your term paper. I’m the one who sent her to her room. I’m astonished you held out as long as you did. From the
minute you came into my life, she was abominable to you. She thought you were trying to take the place of her daddy and she did everything a six-year-old could think of to make sure that didn’t happen. She set you up, Justin, and you fell into the trap.”

“You mean…”

“I mean that Amy would have driven a saint to the edge. She behaved like an absolute brat, and all the talks I had with her only seemed to make matters worse. It wasn’t your fault, Justin.”

He closed his eyes and felt a sigh of relief well up from the depths of his soul. “I was so sure I was going to repeat the pattern I had grown up with. I was terrified of it.”

Linda gazed at him with eyes brimming with understanding. “God help me, I should have realized. I knew what you’d been through, but I had no idea you’d overreact like that, that you’d blame yourself.”

“It’s tortured me for the past eight years. You can’t imagine what a weight it is off my chest to know that you don’t hold me responsible.”

“Hold you responsible? For what? Getting angry? It’s a human emotion, Justin. Want to know what I think? I think you’re not capable of hurting anyone, certainly not physically. You may be the gentlest man I’ve ever known. In fact, I suspect the only person you’ve ever hurt has been yourself. You’ve got so damn much stubborn pride, Justin. It’s always kept you from taking chances, even when the odds are on your side. If you love her, go after this woman. Make things right.”

Justin stood up quickly, practically knocking over his chair in his rush. He started away from the table, then came back and brushed a hasty kiss across Linda’s brow and tossed some money on the table. “I’ll invite you to dance at my wedding,” he promised with a grin as he took off at a run.

It took him twenty-four hours to arrange it, but by Friday morning he was on a plane to Phoenix. He called the Blakes’ house from the airport and got
directions from Mallory’s mother.

“It shouldn’t take you more than fifteen or twenty minutes to get here.” She chuckled then. “I should be able to dream up an errand at the shopping mall that will require my urgent attention.”

“Just be sure it’s not something Mallory will volunteer to do for you.”

“No problem. Mallory absolutely hates to shop. How any daughter of mine could feel that way, I don’t know. Must be her father’s influence.”

Justin had no trouble at all following the directions. What he had trouble with was working up his courage to make the last turn onto the Blakes’ street. Would Mallory want to see him or was she finally tired of his behavior, thankful it was all over between them?

“You’re not going to get any answers sitting in a car half a block away,” he finally muttered and made the turn just in time to see a car shoot out of the driveway with a woman who had to be Mallory’s mother at the wheel. She was alone.

Justin parked in front of the house and walked slowly to the door. It was several long minutes after he rang the bell before he heard the sound of footsteps, then sensed a presence on the other side of the door.

“What are you doing here?” The words were muffled by the Spanish-style wooden door, but he recognized the feisty, indignant tone.

“I want to see you.”

“What’s the point? Go on back to San Francisco.”

“Mallory Marie, your mother would be appalled by your manners.”

“Probably so,” she admitted. “I suppose she knew you were coming.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because she went scooting
out of here so fast, she forgot to take off her fuzzy pink bedroom slippers. She ought to be a real hit at the mall.”

“Are you going to open the door or not?”

“I don’t think so.”

Justin shrugged. “Okay, it may be a little unconventional, but we’ll do it your way.”

“Do what my way?” she asked suspiciously.

“Never mind. Have you got a decent view through that peephole?”

“A decent view? Justin, what are you up to?”

“I’m down on my knees. Can you see me?”

“No, I can’t see you.” Her voice was exasperated. “What are you doing?”

He moved back a bit, then knelt down again. “What about now? Can you see me yet?”

“Justin, this is ridiculous. Why are you down on one knee on my sidewalk?”

“For a bright lady, you’re very slow today. It must be the heat. No one will ever convince me ninety-seven degrees isn’t hot, just because it’s dry heat.”

“Justin!”

“Okay, don’t get impatient.” He dug around in his pocket until his fingers found the little velvet box. He took it out and flipped it open. “I hope you can see this. It kind of glares in the sun.”

“What is it?”

“A ring.”

Instantly the door opened a crack, and blue-green eyes peered around the edge. “What kind of a ring?”

“An engagement ring. I was sort of hoping to do this a little more romantically, maybe even without sweat streaming down my back, but what the heck.
A proposal’s a proposal, right? Mallory Marie Blake, Ph.D., will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Justin Whitmore? If you want to stay Mallory Blake for professional reasons, I suppose that would be okay, too, as long as we’re married. It may be a little confusing for the children, but I’ll explain it so they understand and don’t think they’re illegitimate or something.”

The door opened all the way at that, and startled eyes stared at him. “You want to get married,” she breathed softly. “And have children?”

He nodded. “Preferably before my knees are welded to this sidewalk,” he said.

“What changed your mind?”

“It’s a long story and if you don’t mind, I really would prefer not to tell it out here. Not that I’m not prepared to give you almost anything you want to get you to agree to marry me, but my brain is frying.”

“Come in.”

Air-conditioning had never felt so good to him in his life. He wanted to stand in front of one of the vents until his muscles froze, but Mallory was regarding him with such a light shining in her eyes that he quickly forgot his discomfort.

“Would you like some iced tea?” she asked politely.

“What I would like very much is a kiss. Is that possible?”

“It is definitely possible,” she said and moved into his arms. If he had his way, she’d stay there forever. He buried his face in her hair, then tilted her chin up so he could slant his mouth across hers. The touch set off a brushfire inside him that no air-conditioning
could cool. “God, Mallory, don’t ever leave me again.”