The Doctor's Devotion (Love Inspired) (6 page)

He laughed. “Lem said you love to dress up.”

“Not anymore.” Fairy tales were made only to destroy little girls’ dreams. She unlocked her seat belt.

“Really?” He lent his hand, helping her from the truck. Warmth trickled up her palm and her wrist.

Once down she swiped her hand across her leg, but the feeling didn’t go away. “Occasionally I used to dress up and go out with my girl pals on weekends.”

His eyebrows lifted as they headed in. “Used to?”

She shrugged. “Too much going on. I let my social life dwindle.” Her dating life, too, thanks to her reclusiveness since the lawsuit. Another reason she didn’t want to be around Mitch.

Everything about him reminded her of what she’d lost or given up. A career in the medical profession she’d dreamed of since a childhood tragedy took her parents away. Then the loss of her young patient that took
that
dream away.

Not only had her patient’s death in childbirth left a newborn motherless, Lauren knew what it felt like to grow up without a mom, which is why she clung all the more to Grandpa.

Plus Mitch’s closeness with Grandpa put her mind in a dark place and brought to light just how far she’d drifted away. After all, Grandpa’s pantry was loaded with Dr. Pepper, which Mitch drank. Not the Pepsi or Coke she liked.

She didn’t blame Grandpa for filling the void, but at least he could focus on her a smidge more than Mitch during her stay here. But Grandpa seemed oblivious to the idea for some reason, which admittedly stung. And scared her.

Were his mental faculties slipping?

Grandpa used to know her like the back of his eyelids during sleep. He had always perceived her feelings and soothed them.

Something had changed. Shifted.

And it was as depressing as school on a snow day.

When she reached the counter with her fountain soda, Mitch was waiting with a case of Coke and Dr. Pepper. “I got this.” He included her soda in his bill, then leaned close at her befuddlement. “Don’t protest. Just say thanks.”

Making matters worse, Mitch smelled like a man, smiled like he meant it and stared at her like she could someday mean something to him. Despite that she’d been intentionally cranky.

In short, he sounded, looked and felt like family.

But she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to tell him.

* * *

“I insist!” Lem said upon their arrival.

Mitch and Lauren’s gazes collided. They cracked simultaneous smiles. No doubt they were thinking the same thing. There was no arguing with Lem after his mind was made up.

“Okay, Grandpa. You can make us dinner.” Lauren’s wink did funny things to his pulse. Lauren’s gaze glittered. His lingered. He felt stricken with how, in moments like these where Lem’s one-of-a-kind quirks surfaced, he felt magnetically drawn to Lauren.

No matter how much they disagreed, their mutual love and admiration for Lem became an unexpected bond for them.

He snuck Lauren’s case of soda into the pantry. Lem was probably too preoccupied with house repairs to ponder his usual special touches. A tiny reminder couldn’t hurt because the twinge of pain in Lauren’s eyes each time she had to move something of Mitch’s over in the pantry or fridge was beginning to undo him.

Lem gave a grand arm wave. “In fact, you should’ve brought your entire trauma team. I imagine they’re hungry after all that hard work.”

“I invited them, but Ian’s helping Kate move. She found an apartment, though it’s farther from the center than she had wanted.”

“Well, let ’em know they’re always welcome here.”

“They know, Gramps.” Ugh. Lauren stiffened every time Mitch used the title. Yet Lem was the one who had requested Mitch call him that. Maybe he hadn’t expected the hurt it caused Lauren.

If Lem knew how much it bothered her, he’d probably dissuade Mitch from referring to him that way while she was here. But old habits die hard. He needed to dial it down this summer—for Lauren’s sake. Lem had an affinity for bringing people together and pulling fringe dwellers into the fold.

“At least let us help you cook.” Mitch bent to haul out the heavy-duty saucepan, but Lauren lifted a lighter one instead.

“He uses that one for spaghetti,” Mitch explained before thinking. The fallen look to her face hit him hard.

He hadn’t meant to tout how much more familiar he was than her with Lem’s current domestic dealings.

Head dipping in a dispirited manner, she pushed the pan back into the cabinet and raked silky hair behind her ear.

Mitch drew close. “Hey, sorry. I—”

Her upshot palm abolished his apology.

At first he thought she was too mad to listen or speak. Yet the gloss surfacing in her eyes and rapid blinks hinted of hurt and unspeakable pain. His heart dropped through the floor, squeezed with concern then swelled with empathy and compassion.

Amid the rush of emotion, he almost reached for her. No telling what stopped him.

She schooled her features as Lem clomped back in with a sack of potatoes. Mitch rushed to take them, which earned a dirty look from Lem, who muttered something about being capable of carrying taters. Lem’s protests elicited a fragile smile from Lauren.

His guilt eased, yet his concern for her deepened. Maybe he needed to be more sensitive?

Likewise, in time perhaps she’d be less sensitive.

Something more than simple jealousy had fueled it. He was determined to find out what.

Moonlight slivers shone when Lem held back the curtain. “Since it’s dark, I suggest we wait until tomorrow to mess with cantankerous Bess.”

Mitch helped carry serving dishes to the table. “Remember Brock, one of the Refuge PJs?”

Lem nodded. “The brawny, strapping, amber-haired one?”

“Yeah. He’s coming over here tomorrow to help me out with some projects on that to-do list.”

“That’s right nice of him. I’ll have some lunch in the fridge for you, how’s that?”

Mitch smiled. “Brock loves hard work almost as much as he loves food. So that’ll suit him just fine. He mentioned chili.”

“I’ll thaw a big batch then. Lauren and I have a special day planned tomorrow. Don’t we, carrottop?”

She looked nervous, like Grandpa might bring Mitch into it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m looking forward to getting some stuff done here,” he said to alleviate her fear that he’d try to intrude on their day. Little did she know he was working on a project for her benefit. Not just for Lem, but Mitch found himself looking forward to seeing the joy on Lauren’s face when Bess fired up.

Bess the tractor had refused to run for years. Four and a half, to be exact. Lem said Lauren loved to tinker around on her.

He’d had no reason to run Bess since Lauren moved away because he had other tractors that were more dependable and less sentimental.

Bess pretty much ran on her own terms, kind of like Lauren. He knew because Lem had confided generously.

Maybe that accounted for why the bond he felt with Lauren seemed stronger than the norm for two people who’d recently met. Lem had been telling them stories of one another for years now.

Mitch would be better off to leave the bond alone. Feeding the romance brewing between them would be foolish on several fronts. Among his old heartache and new work responsibilities that gave him pause, Lauren lived too far away for going further to feel safe.

Chapter Seven

L
auren couldn’t remember looking more forward to a day. “Turkey and Cheddar Jack’s my favorite.” She tucked the sandwiches she’d made into a picnic basket on Grandpa’s table.

“Mine, too. Except I prefer provolone.” Grandpa set a thermos of coffee near their cooler basket.

“Since when? You’re the one who got me hooked me on Cheddar Jack.”

“Since Mitch turned me on to provolone.”

Familiar slices of jealousy cut through her. She fought it with a vengeance and a prayer.
This day is too important to let unruly emotions ruin special time with Grandpa. Lord, please help me.

“Let’s go outside and pick us some fruit for the day. We’ll be in the boonies and out late, so let’s stock up in case we get stranded hunting abandoned mansions to explore, like old times.”

They headed out with a bowl and plucked apples, peaches and pears from Lem’s few fruit trees. While he didn’t have a lot of trees, they all yielded an enormous amount of fruit.

“Grandpa, we need to pick these peaches or the branches will crack. They’re bowing and will be brushing the ground soon.”

“We’ll do that when we get back. How’s that sound?”

“Good. What will we do with all those peaches?” She wondered if Mitch liked cobbler or pie best. Then she wondered why she was wondering so much about Mitch today. His genuine smile yesterday upon hearing of her and Grandpa’s excursion had been the first thing she’d pictured upon waking this morning.

It had solidified in her mind how caring Mitch really was. He truly did have the best interests of others at heart. Yet he also had an air of strict self-protection that she’d really like to breach in order to better understand him.

What would a man that amazing have to be afraid of?

“Let’s let the rest ripen.” Grandpa started back inside.

Lauren followed, carting two bowls of fresh fruit. “Did you remember to set out chili for Mitch and his friend?”

Why was her mind so focused on Mitch today?

“Almost forgot. You do that and I’ll whip up a batch of corn bread. Mitch likes it with his chili.”

Lauren pulled out the chili and eyed Grandpa. “Mind if I make them some dessert?”

“That’ll be dandy. Mitch loves cobbler like crazy. And from what he tells me, Brock eats anything that doesn’t move.”

She laughed. “Cobbler it is.” As they prepared cobbler and corn bread side by side, an elated sensation wove into her. A deep sense of companionship and belonging seeped in, as well as the strongest feeling of contentment she’d had in years.

She tried not to acknowledge how good it made her feel to make dessert for a man. Specifically a man like Mitch.

Just when did the desire to bless and please him creep in?

Nevertheless, Grandpa loved cobbler, too. He always doused it with ice cream, a staple in this freezer.

Memories swarmed her. Good ones that made her smile inside and out. How could she have forgotten all these little nuances and details about life with Lem? “I love you, Grandpa.”

He paused and grinned. “What brought that on?”

“Things like this just make me realize how much I miss you. And how much I’ve missed by not coming to spend time with you.”

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll make up for lost time this summer. Like today. If I can keep from getting us lost.”

Lauren laughed and let herself enjoy having something to look forward to. “That’s what you always used to say. Yet you never once got us lost.”

“Well, I’m not driving today. You and that QRS are.”

She giggled. “GPS. It’s a satellite navigation system.”

“If you say so. There’s Mitch with his truck now.”

Her heart gave a little flutter at the sound that had become familiar in mornings. Mitch’s truck door closing. He stepped in and handed her his keys. “Wanna see where my truck’s navigational and safety stuff is?”

“Sure.” She tried not to notice how his worn charcoal T-shirt and jeans showcased his impressive physique.

Mitch accompanied her out and helped her attach the GPS to the dash. “Here’s the emergency brake. Here’s how to put it in four-wheel drive. Try it.”

She got in and fired up his truck. They drove across Grandpa’s yard. Lauren listened while Mitch explained where all the important controls, knobs and buttons were.

A hilly snatch of terrain that couldn’t be resisted loomed. She gunned it a little then eyed Mitch, expecting him to scold her for the momentary orneriness.

Instead, he grabbed a ceiling handle. “Go for it.”

Wow. She did not expect that. “Really?”

A slow grin crept across his face, giving it even more appeal. She slammed the pedal to the floor, and the truck peeled out and ramped dusty hills. Mitch
whooped
like Lem, making Lauren laugh.

Grandpa was probably wondering what all the dust was about, so she drove back to the driveway like the well-behaved granddaughter she wasn’t.

Lem stood on his porch, shaking his head and laughing.

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Mitch eyed Lem fondly. Then faced Lauren. “You have more of his traits than you realize.”

“What, his penchant toward orneriness?”

Mitch chuckled. “Well, that, yes. But I mainly meant his uncanny ability to handle life’s problems rather than let the problems handle him.”

Her grin faded. “I think you’re mistaken. That’s not me.”

The gleam in his eyes grew fonder, and firmer. “Oh, yeah. It is. You’ll see. You’re the kind whose nettle surfaces the more they’re squeezed. Some strengths shine in weakness, Lauren.”

“If you say so.”

No one said anything for long moments. She was taken by how comfortable it was to be alone with him. Did he feel the same way?

“Thank you, Mitch, for doing this. I know I haven’t been the nicest. So it’s supersweet of you to loan us your truck for the day.” She cut the engine, missing the fun of riding around.

He smiled. “No problem. I hope the two of you have fun.”

“I’ll be careful with your baby.”

He stiffened and paused. Then peered toward the glove box, then away. He nodded more stiffly. “I know you will. I checked all the fluids, oil, transmission, wiper. And she’s gassed up.”

When a downtrodden look accosted his face before he could mask it, she felt sudden remorse over not inviting him along. Should she?

“What chores do you have planned today?” she asked.

“Knocking out another couple items on his to-do list. Fixing the fence and replacing his screen door. Which I need to get out of here.” Mitch reached into the back of the truck and hefted out a solid wood-and-glass carved door as if it was cardstock light.

She eyed the price tag he ripped off, and…wow.

“Do you need help paying for that?”

He shook his head. “Lem went in half. Or thinks he did. He insisted so I kinda fibbed and told him it was only a couple hundred bucks. I didn’t want him to have a flimsy door since he lives alone. This place doesn’t have a high crime rate, but it’s better to be safe.”

“Thanks, Mitch, for all you do for him.” For some reason, she felt supersentimental about it today. “You could go with us if you want.”

He rose slowly after setting the door against the siding. “Thanks. But I think I’ll hang here. Brock should be over soon.”

Wow. She did not like the letdown she felt at his answer. She had wanted special, extended alone time with Grandpa. Mitch was making that possible. She should be happier than a raccoon in Grandpa’s cornfield right now.

So why wasn’t she?

Mitch accompanied her inside. His eyes landed on the corn bread and cobbler. His face erupted in elation.

“Lauren made that.” Lem indicated the cobbler.

Mitch’s face lit up in surprise and delight.

Her insides turned to mush as he peered at the cobbler then back at her with deep appreciation.

What if he didn’t like it? Her nerves quivered.

He took a piece to taste and pretended to melt to his knees as he savored it. He liked it!

“Now, that’s perfection right there.” He took a second bite and fastened her with another long look of surprise and approval. “I’m touched and impressed. And my taste buds are very, very happy right now.”

She felt too giddy to speak, so she just nodded and smiled then turned to wash the already-clean counter so he wouldn’t see the blush and ridiculously gargantuan grin taking over her face.

Lem came back into the kitchen. “Ready to go?”

Hmm. Just where had she left her brain? “Yep. Let’s hit the road.”

Mitch loaded their basket in the truck. “Call if you have trouble.” He gave her a paper with his number on it.

This made Lauren’s insides feel even more giddy. “We’ll be really late getting back.”

“Not a problem. Brock’s coming to help before a training op. He’s giving me a ride home after we get some stuff done. Ian will drop me back off here tomorrow to get my truck.”

“Thanks, Mitch.” Gack! How many times would that sentiment bounce out of her mouth? Maybe she thanked him profusely out of guilt? She’d been so ornery to him. Gratitude overwhelmed her for his giving—and forgiving—heart.

“Have fun.” He patted the truck then stepped back.

Lauren and Lem waved as Brock passed them outside Lem’s driveway. “That’s nice of him to help.”

“Yeah, those PJs are something else. They’ve reformed this community of Refuge.”

“I have a feeling Mitch and his trauma crew will do the same for Eagle Point.”

“The unemployment rate was sky-high. The center definitely boosted morale. I feel terrible taking time away from his trauma work. I guess he didn’t really expect the place to take off the way it has…so fast anyway.”

Nor did Lauren expect her pulse rate to take off at every mention of Mitch. Only, today her respect for Mitch and growing intrigue with him overpowered the troublesome jealousy and envy.

She knew Mitch had to be sick and tired of her repeated mishaps and missteps of giving in to envy. He saw the jealous reaction, sure. But did he see her angst about it after?

Why all of a sudden did his opinion of her matter so much?

“I know for a fact he doesn’t mind helping you, Grandpa.”

That must’ve comforted Lem because he stopped chewing his cheek.

Lauren and Lem spent the day driving along the Mississippi exploring historic towns, museums and libraries. They stopped at a peach orchard and ate scrumptious homemade cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream.

“This isn’t as good as yours,” Grandpa doted. “Mitch thought so, too. I know there won’t be a drop of your cobbler left when we get home tonight.”

She smiled, remembering Mitch’s genuine reaction.

After having their fill of orchard goodness, they headed to the southernmost tip of Illinois to visit a monument where some of their ancestors from Civil War times were buried.

They stopped and perused in an historic bed-and-breakfast shop known for its authentic period antiques.

Lauren purchased Mitch a statue of a doctor holding a little boy’s hand while a nurse gave a shot. When Grandpa eyed her funny, she quickly found a trinket for Brock, too, lest Grandpa get any ideas that she was growing fond of Mitch.

She absolutely wasn’t. Though tingles walked up her spine, it was best to ignore it.

“What now, carrottop?” Lem asked once back on the road.

“Want to go for a hike at one of the state parks nearby?”

“Wish I could. I can’t go more than a few miles, though.”

“Oh.” Last time Grandpa could hike circles around her. Could a person age that much in five years? She needed to have a private conversation with Mitch about Grandpa’s health.

“It’s too hot to hike today anyway,” she said to make Grandpa feel better about his lost stamina. They drove at leisure along a scenic route and spent time perusing specialty shops before driving through a wildlife refuge. “I enjoy seeing the familiar birds, animals, trees and foliage that makes Illinois more beautiful than I remembered.”

Lem smiled and nodded.

Memories of times like this with Grandpa also added to its beauty and appeal. Now she’d have new memories to draw upon. The thought of time with Grandpa being reduced to rare memories instead of daily experiences brought a profound sadness upon her. And disconcerting dread.
Please don’t take him anytime soon, God.

Lem adjusted his seat belt. “Remember when we used to drive to the riverfront mansions and pretend like we lived there?”

“I do.”

“Let’s.”

“Today?”

“Sure. Why not?”

They drove to a gas station, and Lauren filled Mitch’s tank. Then they purchased a jug of homemade tea from the village café.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” A little later, they arrived at their favorite abandoned mansion. Lauren felt like a miscreant, squished between two ivy-colored fence panels. She helped Lem and giggled.

“What? Pretending isn’t against the law.”

“No, but sneaking onto private property is.”

“This is public property. It’s bank-owned. Besides, we won’t harm anything. We’ll just eat in the courtyard and pretend we live here.”

“Don’t be surprised if the cops show.” She laughed at the thought of Mitch having to bail them out of jail.

Once on the brick patio, they dusted off a wrought-iron table and two chairs. “Mitch has a similar set at his place.”

Lauren pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t know.” Lauren spread a tablecloth on the table then put their food on it.

“The deeper the South, the sweeter the tea.” Lem pulled out the iced-tea jug.

They enjoyed lunch in the courtyard amid a symphony of singing birds, cicadas and chirping crickets. Two curious baby squirrels kept them company. Their acorn antics provided comic relief. A watchful mama squirrel occupied a branch above the patio. “Mitch would have loved watching all these critters frolic.”

Lauren ignored the feelings bubbling up with Grandpa’s mention of Mitch. She viewed the abandoned mansion. “I can imagine this place in its prime. It’s sad they’ve let it go to ruin.”

“They need money or someone to renovate and repair it. A lot of these Mississippi river mansions have been let go.”

Grandpa inspected artistically carved eaves and whistled. “Mitch’s carpentry skills could do wonders with this place.”