Well, now he was home, but apparently not to stay. Her throat tightened. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on his return until she saw him. How much longer could they continue at the clinic if he didn’t take over? The secret Doc insisted she keep weighed on her heart. If only she could share it with Brett—
“There you are.” Brett touched her arm, and the cake platter tilted in her grasp. He grabbed it, setting it down. “Anne sent me over to tell you to relax and enjoy the party. There’s plenty of food here. More fat and calories than this bunch should have in a month.”
She managed a smile. Keep it light. You can’t confront him here, so keep it light. “You’re back in Bedford Creek, remember? A party isn’t a success unless the hostess stuffs everyone.”
“Nobody serves crudités and yogurt dip?”
“Not unless they’re serving fudge and cookies with it.”
This was better, joking back and forth with Brett as if it were the old days, burying her worries about the clinic, about Doc, about the future. And ignoring the tingle of awareness his closeness brought. She had to keep things on this level for the moment.
She tried unobtrusively to move a step farther away. Ignoring his warmth and strength would be easier if he weren’t quite so close to her, close enough to smell a faint trace of spicy aftershave, close enough to see the gold flecks in his green eyes.
“Anne tells me you’re a bridesmaid in the wedding next month.”
She nodded. It was safe to talk about Anne. “We’ve gotten to be good friends since she moved here. She’s really someone special.” The secret of Emilie’s birth parents had brought Anne to Bedford Creek, but it was the love she’d found with Mitch that made her stay.
She looked at Anne, bending to disentangle Emilie’s tiny fingers from the bow of a present. She admired Anne’s cool urban elegance without wanting to be like her.
He followed the direction of her gaze. “They are happy, aren’t they?” He almost sounded as if he needed assurance.
“Of course.” Her surprise showed in her voice. “They’re perfect for each other. Don’t you think so?”
He glanced down at her. “Guess I never thought Mitch would settle down. But once he met the right woman, it was all over for him.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You make it sound like a prison sentence. Is that how you see marriage?”
“It is meant to be permanent.”
He looked back toward the other room, and she realized he was watching Alex Caine, the third member of the trio of friends. Alex, his lean face serious as always, stood back a little, leaning on the cane he sometimes had to use.
“Alex is doing better.” She answered the question he didn’t ask. Alex had barely survived a plane crash the year before, suffering a head injury that eventually healed and a shattered knee that still pained him. It was small wonder his friends worried about him.
Brett nodded. “Alex is tough—nobody knows that better than I do. He’ll be fine.” He focused on her. “So how come I haven’t heard about an engagement party for you? Guys must be standing in line.”
“In Bedford Creek?” She lifted her brows. “There aren’t enough eligible single guys to form a line.”
“Don’t give me that. You ought to be wearing a ring, too.”
She shook her head. “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s the way I like it, although I’ll never convince my mother. She’s eternally hopeful of getting both her daughters married off.”
“She must—” Brett interrupted himself to look down. “Did you know there was someone under the table?”
She bent, lifting the hem of the linen tablecloth. “Come out, Kristie. Come on, right now.”
A small, sticky hand closed around hers, and her niece slid out from under the table. Chocolate smeared Kristie’s hands and mouth.
“Who’s this?” Brett knelt beside the pajama-clad figure. “I haven’t met you before, have I?”
Finger in her mouth, five-year-old Kristie had an attack of shyness. She leaned against Rebecca’s skirt, shaking her head.
Brett looked up, a question in his eyes.
“Kristie is Quinn’s daughter.” It was useless to hope he wouldn’t ask more questions. He and Quinn were the same age, and they’d been childhood friends. “Honey, this is Brett. He’s an old friend.”
“I don’t think I knew your brother had come back home.” Brett stood. “My mother’s intelligence-gathering skills must be getting rusty.”
“He’s not. Home, that is.” Her heart ached at the thought of her brother’s battle with grief over his wife’s death six months earlier. “He’s finishing up a job. Kristie is staying with us until he comes back.”
Brett seemed to process very quickly all the things she didn’t say. He smiled down at Kristie. “Sounds like you’re a lucky girl, staying with your grandma and aunts. Is there still a tree house in the willow out back?”
Kristie nodded. “Aunt Rebecca and me painted it. It’s yellow now.”
“I’d like to see that sometime. Do you let boys in?”
That earned a shy smile. “You’re not a boy.”
“I’m not?” He gave her a shocked look.
“You’re a man!” She erupted in giggles, and he joined her.
Brett had made another conquest, not surprisingly. He always had been able to charm the birds from the trees. And there was genuine kindness behind his smile. Small wonder even shy Kristie responded to it, just as Rebecca had.
She must have been about her niece’s age when she’d solemnly asked Brett if he’d marry her when she grew up. They’d been in the tree house, and she could still smell the lilacs that had been blooming in the garden.
Brett had been kind; he was always kind. He’d taken both her hands in his and assured her she’d meet someone she’d love lots more than him. He was going to be a doctor, he’d told her. He promised he’d come back and take care of all of them.
She’d tried to blink tears away, knowing a rejection when she heard it, even at five. She’d nodded, as if accepting his words, but her heart had known she loved him.
Now, she could only hope Brett had forgotten that embarrassing incident.
“Come on.” She took Kristie’s hand. “Time we got you back to bed.”
At least that would get her out of Brett’s company for a few minutes. She wouldn’t have to pretend nothing was wrong, and she wouldn’t have to pretend she wasn’t affected by seeing him again.
Kristie’s curly red head burrowed against her skirt. “I’m tired, Auntie Rebecca. Carry me.”
Brett scooped her up before Rebecca could move. “I’ll take her.”
“Wait, let me wipe off the chocolate.” She snatched a napkin. “You don’t need to do that. You should stay here and visit with people.”
She hoped there wasn’t a desperate edge in her voice. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with him.
He ignored her. “Here we go.” He hoisted Kristie, hands now clean, to his shoulder. “Hold on tight.” He started for the archway, bouncing her so that she giggled and clutched his hair.
Managing a meaningless smile for anyone who might be watching, Rebecca followed.
They trooped up the wide staircase. At the top, she nodded toward the door next to hers. “This is