The Bluebird Bet Page 15

  Because the next day, the one right after the judges made their decision, he was going to figure out what to do about the doctor.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EVER SINCE THE KISS, she’d managed to avoid Dean. If he was on a ladder working on the shutters, she was inside making measurements and lists. When he went back to paint the spots he’d left for her, she researched all the hotels in the area, hoping to find the key to winning in their lists of amenities. And he worked without complaining.

  If he was sitting on the end of the dock, she was staring out the window of her bedroom, finding her gaze drawn to him.

  It was enough to make her feel as if she was either very good or very bad at stalking him. There wasn’t much in between.

  “Stupid yarn. Do what I tell you.” She forced herself to stretch and then rewrap the yarn around the needle a little more loosely. Knitting was more fun when it didn’t require a feat of strength to get every stitch off the needle.

  Or so she imagined. She hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it.

  But she’d decided knitting might help her think about something other than Dean, losing the Bluebird or the kiss. The three of them together were too much, and each one separately was enough to distract her from whatever she was doing.

  Wondering if he deserved to win made it even more difficult to build her plan. A niggling voice whispered maybe it was more important for him to keep his home than for her to be proven right again, leaving her fingers frozen on the keyboard.

  When her phone rang, she set the needles down with a tiny bit of relief. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Are you busy? I forgot what days you’re working at the after-hours emergency clinic this week.” Her mother’s voice was clear, steady.

  “I asked to go to one shift, so it’ll be Thursday evenings from now on. My practice has kept me busy enough lately that I’ve been considering eliminating the once-a-month Saturday hours, too.” Elaine propped her feet up on the freshly scraped railing and tried to relax. “But so many working parents need those appointments.”

  “I hope your schedule will settle down. It’s hard to make plans when your shifts are up in the air like that.”

  Elaine frowned at the phone. Everything her mother said was true, but it was unusual to hear her say something so businesslike about her job. Usually her mother’s comments had to do with how impossible it was to date doctors.

  “How did the final class go? Did you wow everyone with your soufflé?” She would not ask about the guy, whoever he was. Chances were he’d be gone before she had to meet him at a holiday dinner. “My mother, the head of the class, right?”

  “It fell. Not only did it fall, but the crater in the center looked like an area you might find alien life. It was ugly, but it was a lot of fun to try. I’m definitely going to bake it again.” The laugh that accompanied her mom’s declaration lifted Elaine’s spirits. It was hard to stay mad at her mother. That was a good thing.

  Dean passed the porch on his way to wash out his paintbrush without glancing at her. She couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed by the kiss or mad about her reaction. Could be both.

  His advice had been floating to the surface now and then, and since they were both in a good mood, Elaine decided to go for it. “Mom, I needed to let you know how...disappointed I am that you aren’t coming for a visit.” There. She’d done it.

  Her mother cleared her throat. “Well...I’m not sure what to say, Elaine.” The silence stretched across the phone line. “You’re always so busy. I didn’t think you’d miss me at all.”

  The words hit with enough force to make Elaine catch her breath. “I... Of course I miss you. I wanted to share this place with you, the one we loved so much. Both of us. I asked you to come, remember?” How could her mother misunderstand that?

  “I didn’t want to be an imposition.” Her mother sighed. “You have an important career. Just like your father. I understand that spending time on a visit is a sacrifice. Besides, I’m happy enough here.” The tone of her voice didn’t match her words.

  Was Elaine as distant as her father? Just as hard to know and love? She rubbed her forehead with cold fingers and tried to avoid squirming in the noisy chair.

  All these years, she’d been strong. That hadn’t been easy. She’d also been impatient and judgmental and too smart for her own good.

  If she didn’t make a change, find something else besides her work, she’d regret it. Someday she might have a daughter she didn’t know and couldn’t talk to just like her father did.

  He loved his job. He was good at it. Did he think it was easier to stick with what he was good at—talking shop—rather than face the prospect of failing?

  “Mom, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way. Please come for a visit. I would enjoy it so much.” And if it was after the Bluebird decision and if she didn’t win the day, she’d beg Robert Collins for a special guest pass, pack up her own tea and they’d have a special afternoon just the two of them.

  “I keep thinking I will, Elaine, but...” Elaine gripped the phone so tightly her fingers ached. “Then I decide I’ll wait until I’m more...together. Like you. With everything going right.” Her mother laughed. “I did take some of your advice. I got a part-time job selling kitchenware, of all things. This cooking class has warped my brain.”

  Until Jerry, the last husband who desired the perfect hostess, not a content wife, her mother had always volunteered and worked sales jobs because they made her happy. She enjoyed working with people.

  “That’s great, Mom. When you can get a couple of days off, you and...what was his name?” Elaine waited, aware that she was about to torpedo her own daydreams by including the new boyfriend but prepared to do whatever it took to convince her mother to come.

  “Stephen, but forget about him.” Her mother cleared her throat again. “I’ve decided I’m not ready to date. When I am, another Stephen will come along.”

  Elaine sighed and stretched the tight muscles in her legs. Her knuckles were white until she flexed her hand to ease the tension. “That’s really healthy for you. Learn this job you love, then figure out what you want next.”

  “I’m sorry I let you down, Elaine.” Her mother’s voice was hard to hear.

  “It’s just a trip. We’ll reschedule.” Elaine had to clear her throat. “But I do miss you, so let’s make it soon, okay?”

  “When’s the big decision?”

  “We’re waiting for Robert’s return. I’ve got a few estimates still to come from the contractor. I met with the loan officer at the bank yesterday, so I’m close. I need to come up with...something new, something killer to attract male guests. Jackie, my partner in this contest, mentioned hiring guides for the lake. Maybe that’s the best solution.” Elaine craned her neck to make sure Dean was far, far away.

  Her solution was very close to his whole reason for being, another thing that bothered her.

  “Make sure you have plenty of family activities. I remember you trailing after your father, his tiny shadow. He couldn’t shake you, could he?” her mother asked, a smile in her voice. “I blame him for the dried leaf scrapbook to this day.”

  Let it go, Elaine. You’ve already come out of one battle unbloodied.

  But today was apparently the day to right old hurts.

  “You should blame Mrs. Hopkins, my third-grade teacher. She’s the one who made me love science. Neither one of my parents encouraged it, that’s for sure.” When her teeth snapped shut to keep more angry words from escaping, Elaine relaxed her grip on the phone. “And that’s why I have this fabulous career, the one I worked so hard for.”

  “Maybe you’re right. You did what you loved anyway. I’m so proud of you.” When her mother said it, more often Elaine could hear “But I don’t understand you at all.”

  This time, she knew it was still true. S
he and her mother would always be different, but that hadn’t changed the fact that Elaine needed her.

  Her mother’s love didn’t depend on the things they had in common. Her mother just loved her. Period. Always had, always would. Whether Elaine was head of the class or a selfish overachiever with too little time for what mattered, her mother was her biggest fan.

  The lump in her throat was hard to ignore. Elaine tried to imagine what it might be like to live without that love, how hard it would be to lose her mother, and wondered where Dean was.

  “Well, think about rescheduling the trip, Mom. After next week, I’ll have an inn at my disposal or you’ll be sleeping on my couch in my cramped apartment, but either way, it’ll be wonderful to see you.” She picked up the knitting needles again. “Maybe I can take you to Purl’s Place for a knitting lesson.”

  She ended the call on her mother’s disbelieving laugh and started the chair rocking, the rhythmic creak a little faster than true relaxation but comforting anyway. Knitting might keep the tears away.

  “Do you approve of the paint?” Dean asked from the yard. He pointed at the shutters along the side. “Good match?”

  To get more time to put herself together, Elaine leaned over the railing to see bright blue shutters against the crisp white paint.

  “Wonderful. Matches the bluebirds.” She considered the nesting boxes and reminded herself to get on with her improvement plans. She’d stalled lately, and Dean was surging ahead, but now that she was close on her proposal, she could tackle new projects. “I’ve been researching how to attract more bluebirds. I’m going to clear out the garden then maybe go into town, see if Mr. King will order some mealworms.” The grimace that followed her plan was uncontrollable. She hadn’t fully committed to putting out the worms, but getting the bluebirds back seemed important enough to overcome her small amount of distaste. “Suet doesn’t seem to have been the magic meal.”

  “It would be nice to have some bluebirds,” Dean said.

  The awkward silence stretched out between them until she cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose you have time for a small project. I’ve been thinking about painting the nesting boxes.” She shivered. “But I’d need a ladder.”

  Dean studied the boxes for a minute. “So, basically, I’ll be the one with the project. Not you.”

  Uncomfortable at the reminder of how much work he’d done around the Bluebird compared with what she’d managed, Elaine put her mangled knitting in the Purl’s Place bag at her feet and stood. “You’re right. Never mind. I can do this on my own.” But she really didn’t want to.

  His heavy sigh stopped her in her tracks. “No, these are important. I’ll help.”

  She thought about arguing with him, insisting she could handle it all, but decided against it.

  By the time she’d grabbed a clean brush and the leftover white paint, Dean was staring up at the first nesting box.

  He took the can and the brush from her. “You know, painting leaves plenty of time for thinking.” He carefully cut in around the bottom of the box and along the edges before covering all four sides with white paint. “Every one of these projects I do for you or with you helps you win the bet. Not me.”

  He didn’t look at her as he shifted to the next box. “That part of your plan?”

  “Um, well...” Elaine rubbed her nose. “Only indirectly. That’s why I started the projects. Today I wanted to talk to you.”

  He frowned and stared into the distance before he shook his head. Neither one of them said anything else while he methodically worked through all the nesting boxes. “Bring the blue paint for the roofs.” Something about his tone gave her the old feeling of uncertainty and unease that her father had always been able to call up. He was disappointed.

  She handed him the second can of paint and admired how fresh and clean the new nesting boxes were. Surely the birds would return to such beautiful homes.

  “For someone who wanted to talk, you haven’t said much.” He stared hard at the brush he was rinsing.

  That was a good point. Elaine shoved her hands into her pockets and tried to figure out what to say.

  After he turned the water off, he studied her face and sighed. “When I chose the paint for the shutters, I was actually trying to match the morning glories that used to trail up the fence post over there.” He pointed to the far side of the garden. “I hadn’t thought of them in a while, not until you reminded me what they were called. Now I can remember my mother babying the vines and crowing in happiness when they bloomed.” He studied the empty spot where morning glories should be. “She was always so patient, more optimistic than anyone I’ve ever met, even with cancer.”

  “If the vines don’t come back, we’ll put out seed next year. This place should have morning glories, too.” After the phone call with her mother and the reminder of all the moments Dean had missed with Martha Collins, Elaine ached, her raw emotions hard to control.

  When she wrapped her arms around Dean and squeezed as hard as she could, he hesitated before returning her hug. Neither of them said a word. Eventually, she forced herself to let go, suddenly aware of the tightness of the muscles across her shoulders, but she didn’t step back. So many words tumbled in her head, lame attempts to say the right thing to make everything better. None of them would work.

  But she couldn’t stand this distance. She’d stopped seeing him as an opponent. In a short time, Dean had become someone who understood her better than just about anyone in the world. She didn’t want to lose that, not over the Bluebird. And not over a kiss.

  “I took your advice. I explained to my mother how it felt to be dropped for another guy.” She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “Maybe something will change. I hope so.”

  When Dean ran his hands down her back, she opened her eyes to watch him. If the world could just stop, right here, she’d be content. His small frown made sense, but he hadn’t pushed her away.

  “I hope so, too. If she comes, this is a good spot to heal old wounds.” He stepped back and climbed the stairs to the porch. “I can’t believe I said that. I mean, I don’t have any old wounds, you know? I should be over my grief from so long ago.”

  “Some grief sticks with you.” Elaine sighed and followed him. She didn’t want to examine her issues anymore. She wanted to move on, something else she and Dean had in common.

  “Are we going to talk about the kiss or keep dodging each other? And just now, that hug...” He leaned against the railing. “I’m confused. It’s a big place. We could manage it for another week. I got a text from my dad saying he was heading in this direction by way of the Hoover Dam.” He shook his head. “Words I never expected to say—text from my dad.”

  “I’m confused, too, but the hug... Sometimes it’s too hard to put the way I feel into words.” She closed her eyes. “Most of the time actually, but... Well, thank you, I guess, for the advice. I love my mother.”

  He blinked slowly. “What do I say? You’re welcome?”

  He had the strangest way of settling her. His confused frown made her smile.

  “But the kiss... Either way, one of us is a winner, and the other one’s a loser. Not the stuff of fairy tales.”

  “And what...you don’t have time for losers? Winner that you are?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me good sportsmanship is a myth?”

  “No, it’s not a myth, but it’s not really...natural, either. It’s something we learn, we tell ourselves we should be good sports, but we really wish we’d won. On the inside, we’re all bad sports.” She dropped down in the rocking chair and sent it into motion.

  “Dr. Elaine Watson, wrong about something. I should call Mark, see if he has room to print it on the front page.” Dean braced his hands on the arms of her rocking chair. “Because you’re wrong. Maybe it’s only this one case, but if you win
and I lose, I can be happy for you. I understand what you want. My mother would love to see her home restored, even if it hurts me to imagine the Bluebird without her. If you win, I’ll congratulate you.”

  Speechless, she stared into his dark eyes. His commitment to every word he said was clear. He refused to let her look away.

  She believed him.

  “You’d stay here in Tall Pines? Without the Bluebird, you’d build a new home here?” She wanted his answer to be yes. The town might never be the same without him, but how long would it be until he rolled on to the next hot spot?

  And how would she feel if he did?

  “I don’t know. I can’t imagine where I’d go, but...” Dean’s words trailed off, and he turned to look out across the lake. “Wherever my camera takes me, I guess. Without the Bluebird, all I’ve really got is the job.”

  As nice as winning felt and as much as she wanted to call this home, would that be enough to make her happy if Dean left?

  Why did the thought of him picking up where he’d left off, putting himself in danger to tell the stories that needed to be told, make it so hard to breathe?

  Was that love? And if it was, shouldn’t she...drop out of this silly competition?

  The Bluebird could hold him here, keep him safe. She knew it in her heart.

  He needed this place more than she did.

  But she couldn’t lose.

  Don’t be silly, Elaine. Whether he stays or goes, you need to do whatever it takes to make yourself happy. You love the Bluebird. Let the chips fall where they may. Men can come and go, but the Bluebird is solid.

  If her happiness depended on whatever Dean Collins decided, she was letting herself down.

  But forgetting all that to kiss him would be so easy. He was so close and warm. The understanding and affection she could see in his eyes made him seem a safe bet, something she’d never found before.

  Dean stepped back. “That yarn you’re mangling, have the ladies at Purl’s Place seen it?”