The M.D. Meets His Match

The next question that came to her lips, if the response to the first was affirmative, was “Why?” but she told herself that it was none of her business. If Alison’s brother actually was a doctor, having him here would certainly be a welcome relief to Shayne. If her visit to the clinic had been any indication of the way things normally went there, Hades’s only physician was completely overworked.

“Just until my ship sails,” Jimmy informed her blithely. “Cruise ship,” he interjected when the quizzical look on April’s face remained. “I’m just here for two weeks.” It occurred to him that he hadn’t even given her his name—or gotten hers. “James Quintano.” Leaning over the counter, he put his hand out toward her.

April paused a moment before finally placing her hand in his. With Alison watching, she couldn’t very well remain aloof, although it might do the man some good to see that there were women who didn’t fall into his lap just because he was good-looking.

“April Yearling.”

Jimmy withdrew his hand. She had a firm handshake. He got the feeling April wanted him to know that she wasn’t some frail little thing despite her diminutive size. His eyes held hers for a moment.

Message received.

“Well, now that we’re introduced, you’ll have to come to my party.”

“Party?” April looked at Alison questioningly.

“Luc thought it might be a good way to take care of the introduction en masse if we just invited everyone to the Salty,” Alison explained, referring to the saloon that both her husband and his cousin, Ike, owned. The saloon, which Ike initially operated and eventually coaxed Luc to become partners in, had been the first venture of many. Now they owned the general store, Hades’s only movie theater and the hotel, as well. The benevolent entrepreneurs were determined to build Hades up to entice the younger generation to remain once they reached eighteen. “It’s tonight.”

It wouldn’t have mattered what day it was. April shook her head, reaching for another stack of mail inside the sack. “I’m not sure I can get away.”

Jimmy squatted until his face was level with hers. “I’ll take it as a personal insult if you don’t show up.”

Her eyes narrowed. He’d just made up her mind for her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was a storm brewing here. Alison could read the signs well. Wrapping one hand around her older brother’s arm, she began to lead him out of the building.

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Alison told her, giving Jimmy a hard tug.

Jimmy let himself be dragged off. “Until tonight,” he called over his shoulder.

“Until hell freezes over,” April muttered under her breath as she got back to her sorting.

“Of course you’ll go,” Ursula told her firmly when she’d mentioned the party later that day and her intentions of not attending. Kindly hazel eyes pinned April where she stood in the crowded living room. “And you’ll have a good time, too.”

Oh, no, she wouldn’t, especially not if the so-called guest of honor was there. April began to move around the room, straightening things in a hopeless battle for order amid chaos.

“Gran, I came back to help out in the post office and to talk you into going to the hospital in Anchorage. I did not come back to attend any feeble little gatherings at the Salty Dog Saloon for some pompous, would-be playboy doctor.”

She worried her, this one, Ursula thought. She’d been so hurt by first her father’s abandonment and then her mother’s withdrawal. There was no question in her mind that April had always been tough on the outside, but it was the inside that truly concerned her. Inside, Ursula was certain, was a hurt, frightened little girl who needed to be coaxed out and loved.

“No, that’s just a bonus, I’m sure,” Ursula told her cheerfully.

April set two Hummel figurines, a shepherd and his lady, equidistantly apart on a small shelf. “I’m not.”

“April.”

Her grandmother’s suddenly weakened voice had April turning around to look at her. Ursula’s hand slipped dramatically over her chest, her fingers spreading over her heart.

Ursula sighed deeply. “I’m an old woman, my heart can’t take all this arguing and dissent.”

April knew an act when she saw one and, happily, this was one. She moved closer to her grandmother. “You’re a semiold woman who likes to manipulate.”

Ursula let her hand drop, shaking her head in despair. “I should have raised you to be more respectful of your elders.”

“You raised me fine.” Bending, April brushed a quick kiss to the silky, weather-lined cheek. “You raised me to see through charades and con artists and golden-tongued men.”

That hadn’t been her doing. That had been in response to her father’s actions. Ursula’s heart ached, but for a reason that had nothing to do with medical conditions and terminology written in doctors’ journals.

“Not every man is out to break your heart, April. What happened to your mother—”

Instantly, April’s chin shot up. A warrior on constant guard. “Is never going to happen to me.”

Ursula reached for her granddaughter’s hand and held it in hers. “I’m glad, child, but that shouldn’t have the price tag you’re attaching to it.” Her eyes searched April’s face, looking for a sign, a chink that would let her break through. The girl was so adamant about not being hurt that she wasn’t allowing anyone into her life. “It shouldn’t prevent you from enjoying yourself. The years go very fast, April. Faster than any of us can imagine. I don’t want you standing at the end of your life, whispering, ‘If only I’d done things differently.’ April, honey, I don’t want you to have regrets.”

Then they were agreed, April thought. “Neither do I.”

But Ursula shook her head. “I meant about not living life.”

Gently, April disengaged her hand from her grandmother’s. The next moment she was straightening things again, unable to remain still. Unwilling to allow her choices to be examined this way. “I am living life, Gran. I’m out there every day, living.”

But Ursula knew better. For all her sophistication, all her potential and promise, April was fleeing life. “You’re out there every day, snapping pictures, capturing other people living. You can’t do it by proxy. You’ve got to do it yourself. Sometimes you’ve got to put up with pinched toes to break in the best pair of shoes you’ll ever own.”

She might have jumped from a plane to photograph a sky-diving couple getting married, but there were some risks April refused to take. The one her grandmother was talking about was one of them.

“What if those shoes never break in right?”

Ursula could only smile, remembering her own short-lived first marriage. Jake hadn’t left by choice. A fishing accident had taken him from her. But the heartache had been the same. “Wearing them for a little while’s still better than never wearing them at all and going barefoot.”