“You need a time out.” Pepé spoke matter-of-factly and Serena winced at how closely his tone mimicked hers. Did she sound that stern with him when he acted out?
“I need more than that, my man.” Jonas swiveled his stool in front of Pepé, who sat on the small, kid-size examination table.
“You’re not a doctor, right?”
“No, like I said, I’m a nurse practitioner, and I’ll be looking after you.”
“Okay.” Pepé’s ever-practical acceptance never ceased to awe Serena. Acceptance saved one from a lot of grief and sorrow.... “Pepé, what have we discussed about correcting adults?”
“You have to listen to your mother, buddy, but you’re a good man to call me on my bad language.” Jonas smiled at Pepé and Serena curled her toes.
Jonas Scott wasn’t so easy to write off as a man who’d get over the loss of the house once he adjusted to her and Pepé living there. He was fully alive, fully present. And she found him as handsome in person as the photos of him in Dottie’s house had hinted.
She gave Jonas credit; he didn’t cover it up when he made a mess of things. She’d keep her observation to herself, though. She didn’t know him well enough yet. He hadn’t been able to make it home in time for Dottie’s funeral; he’d been too far downrange, too deep in country. He’d told his brothers to go ahead with it and not to wait for him. The oldest brother, Paul, was an attorney and kept her informed all along of the process of Dottie’s murder investigation, Serena’s initial status as a possible suspect and then the reading of the will.
Paul had supported her because, by blood, Dottie was her aunt. Dottie had loved her and Pepé as if they’d been a part of one another’s lives forever and not the short six months they’d shared before Dottie died. Because Dottie had vouched for Serena and introduced her to the other Scott brothers and their families, Paul believed in her innocence. Serena had been quickly removed from the suspect list by the island sheriff, so she hadn’t needed Paul’s legal support, after all. But it had been nice to know someone had her back.
Paul had warned her that Jonas was a little more than surprised that the house wasn’t his. They were all shocked by it, in fact. Dottie had promised it to Jonas when he was a teenager, after his father died and left Dottie a widow.
“I was going to call you, Serena. I’ve only been back a little more than a week.” Jonas’s deep voice stopped the flood of memories.
Before she could reply, he turned his attention back to Pepé.
“Ready for the machine?” Jonas grinned at Pepé, who smiled.
Serena knew she should be grateful that at least Pepé was still around military men. As if it would somehow help keep his few memories of his father alive. Sadness welled and she cursed the ache in her heart for what might have been.
What should have been.
“Sure, Jonas!”
Jonas placed the small cuff on Pepé’s upper arm and pressed the button to start the blood pressure reading.
“Open up.”
Pepé opened his mouth, all the while staring at Jonas. Pain mingled with the regret she’d feel the rest of her life for what Pepé was missing by not having his own father around. The only emotional balm in all of it was that Phil had died when Pepé was barely four, so he didn’t remember a whole lot about his dad—and the memories of grief would fade. They’d already faded for him.
Unlike her.
“So what are you here for, buddy?” Jonas had pulled the thermometer out of Pepé’s mouth and entered the results into the computer.
“I had an ear ’fection but it’s better now. No more yucky medicine!”
“Okay, well, let’s see what your ears look like. He get a lot of these?” Blue eyes. Unblinking. Professional. No further discussion of the house they both wanted. That she owned. Not here.
She wanted to grab him and make those eyes glaze over with lust for her.
Maybe it was time to start dating again. Not Jonas, of course. Another man, who wasn’t off-limits to her.
“Ear infections? Not until we moved here over a year ago. This is his third one since then.”
“What convinced you to stay on Whidbey? It couldn’t have been just the house.”
She heard the veiled cleverness behind his casual conversation. As if he didn’t know.
“Life. Getting the house from Dottie was a dream come true.” That was plain mean. She opened her mouth to apologize, to appease her twinge of guilt.
“Well.” His eyes stayed cool and made it clear that, like her, he wasn’t going to share anything more personal. His focus was on Pepé.
Serena knew a moment of unabashed shame. She should give him a break. The poor guy had just come back from war, for heaven’s sake. His stepmother had died while he was gone, and he hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to the woman who’d raised him. Serena remembered seeing him in photos Dottie had scattered all around the house. In one photo, he’d been tall and well built in his Navy dress uniform, at his brother’s wedding.
All the photos were gone—the brothers had come and collected Dottie’s most personal belongings before Serena had a chance to take possession of the house. They’d left behind Dottie’s collection of knickknacks and a house that was falling apart at the seams, if she were brutally honest. It wasn’t anything she blamed Jonas’s family for, though. Dottie was too busy making the most of every single day to concern herself with the daily maintenance of an old farmhouse.
Dottie’s will and the fact that she’d given the house to Serena had become public knowledge only after Dottie’s funeral.
He’d been at war. He deserved to know why she was the one who’d gotten the house. Problem was, she didn’t know why Dottie had left it to her and Pepé, either. A legacy gift, yes, but at the risk of so much dissension in his family. Especially with Jonas Scott.
A quick knock sounded and a hospital corpsman popped her head around the door.
“Your next patient is ready in exam room three, Commander Scott.”
“Thanks, I’ll be there soon.” Jonas proceeded to examine Pepé’s ears, ignoring her presence.
Serena’s chance to smooth the way with Jonas evaporated.
Whidbey Island January 1941
SARAH FORSYTH HAD seen a lot in her twenty-one years, more than most girls from Whidbey Island, Washington. She’d also found the love of her life in her husband, Henry, and enjoyed a life with him and her daughter that she had no desire to see upset with one of Henry’s crazy ideas.
“I’m a pilot and I’m the best man for the job, Sarah. My two years of college are all I need. I’m going to be an officer.”
Sarah tried to assimilate Henry’s words while keeping an eye on their daughter, Dottie, who was occupied with her rag doll near the woodstove. Their dinner plates were still on the table where they’d left them after Henry spoke the words that shattered their domestic tranquility.
“We agreed that you’d keep flying whenever you had a chance to make extra money, as long as it didn’t keep you gone for more than a week at a time. Now you’re talking about, what, going all over the world to save people? You have a family here, Henry. Your daughter needs you. She’s not even five yet!”
“Our country needs me, Sarah. If we don’t all pitch in, the Japanese are going to take over. If not them, the Germans. Do you want Sarah learning anything but English when she starts