The Bluebird Bet Read online

  Ready to explain she had no intention of doing any such thing and to make a good exit, she looked at him, really looked, and thought she could see something different than his teasing grin. “You got some rest.” Some of the grim determination around his eyes and lips had softened.

  “Yeah. I did.” He ruffled his hair, and they both watched paint chips float to the ground. “I have a long way to go, but it seems like my mom was right. Today already looks better than yesterday did, and the only difference is sleep.”

  “She was smart, your mom.” She gazed out over the sunny lake. “I remember the last summer we came. My parents were miserable, and all I really wanted was for this place to work the same magic it had before. The last day we were here, I was crying out here on the porch when she stepped outside.”

  Dean tossed the brush down by the paint can and walked closer to stand next to her in the shade. “And she said something that made things better. That’s what she did.”

  Elaine squeezed her tired eyes closed for a second. “She pointed out a bluebird and said that sometimes they fly away, but they can find their way home. I should remember the bluebird, even when times are hard, because they were still here singing.”

  Dean turned his face up to the sun. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

  “I can’t imagine how much you miss her. She was special.” So was her son. Of course. How could he be any different? Robert and Martha Collins were good people, and they’d raised an impressive son.

  And this was the reason Dean was slowly changing from opponent to...something else. She couldn’t walk away from him. Watching such a brave man struggle—a man who’d risked his life more than once to tell the world’s important stories—made her want to do whatever she could to help.

  She wished she could go back to assuming he was a selfish jerk too busy to help his father when he needed it.

  Flirting with him, working alongside him...both made it easy to see there was nothing selfish about him.

  What a difference a few days made.

  Elaine thought about patting his shoulder or hugging him or something, because when he opened his eyes and looked at her again, she could see the hurt there in his expression. “I guess you never get over losing a mother.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “This was not the conversation I planned to have. There was supposed to be teasing, maybe light trash talk. Instead, I’m half a second away from tears over an old wound.” And he wasn’t happy about it. She could understand that.

  She pushed her glasses up. “Well, as a doctor, I feel it’s my duty to say that wounds need attention before they’ll heal. Otherwise, the scab might come and it might go, but you never get any better.”

  He propped his hands on his hips as he considered that. “Maybe you should take a dose of your own medicine, Doc. Seems you have a wound or two that could use some attention.” Then he smiled his best gotcha smile.

  Telling him about her parents’ divorce had been a bad decision.

  His logic was hard to argue with.

  So she didn’t. “I’m going to eat this whole box of cereal. Then I’m going to sleep for a week and a half. Then I will come and paint, but only with my feet on the ground.”

  His laughter warmed her as she climbed the steps to the porch. Inside the doorway, she turned to watch him and saw his involuntary jerk at the slam of the door. She rubbed her forehead and briefly considered putting off her nap to fix the door. Such a simple thing to help settle Dean.

  But she was exhausted, and the proper way to fix it escaped her.

  She trudged down the hall to the kitchen, ignored the countertop and put the milk in the refrigerator. “I’m coming for you later, breakfast cereal. Be prepared.”

  Then she made it to her bed, closed her eyes and didn’t remember anything else until the sun was low in the sky. After a quick shower and change into the closest thing she had to painting clothes, she devoured two bowls of cereal before she walked around the porch to see Dean on a ladder. “Reporting for duty, sir.”

  He whistled long and loud. “Sir? I like it.”

  “Don’t get used to it.” Elaine stepped back. “You’ve been on the roof again, haven’t you?”

  He climbed up another rung on the ladder. “If you didn’t see it, did it really happen?”

  “I see more new wood up there.” And this side of the house was nearly ready to paint, too. He’d been working hard. And he had the sunburn to prove it. “What is it with you Collins men? Never heard of SPF?”

  “Real men don’t worry about lotions, Doc.” He hit a patch of paint and sent it flaking down all over her.

  “Smart men who don’t want skin cancer do.” She bent to pour paint into a tray.

  “Less lecture. More paint.”

  Deciding that was good advice, she got to work, and just like the other day, with the kitchen cabinets, they worked well together. When the sun was setting, she washed out her paintbrush. “You know, there’s a way to get some exercise without taking your life in your hands.”

  “What’s the fun in that?” Dean asked as he climbed down the ladder. “The adrenaline rush is the best part, not that there’s much of a thrill with painting. I was perfectly safe. I’ve done this before, you know. My mother insisted on painting the Bluebird almost every other summer, whether it was needed or not. She wanted her home to shine.”

  He leaned forward. “And she did not want my dad on the roof. He slipped once, and she never let him forget it. Said she didn’t want to have to wait on him hand and foot after he broke his fool neck.”

  Elaine thought it was more likely that Martha Collins couldn’t stand to watch the man she loved fall. Something so terrifying would stick with a woman. “I can understand that. He’s not an easy patient.” Elaine turned off the water and smiled up at him. “She was lucky to have you, then. You’re handy with a paintbrush.”

  His smile slipped. “Maybe. My dad might have felt the same, if I’d actually been here.”

  “The flipside is that he could have asked for your help. Right? Maybe he was happy you were doing what you loved, adrenaline junkie that you obviously are.”

  Dean didn’t really look as though he agreed, but he nodded. “All right. What would the good doctor recommend instead of hanging off the roof to get my daily exercise?”

  “Simple. Let’s jog. Tomorrow before I go into the office, run with me.”

  She enjoyed running because she couldn’t do anything but put one foot in front of the other. There were no questions, no emergencies, no phone calls, just the sound of her feet hitting the ground and her own heartbeat. Dean would eliminate all of that peace.

  Before her nap and working alongside him again, she’d reminded herself the smart thing to do was keep her distance. He was too attractive in close contact.

  But he needed her help.

  He hummed doubtfully. “All that effort to go nowhere? Boring.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got a great path. Easy enough for a beginner.” Then she raised her eyebrows so he knew she was ready for the trash-talk portion of the afternoon.

  “Fine. I’ll give your advice a try. Sleeping is good, much better than staring out over the water until the sun comes up. The lake’s beautiful when it’s dark but not as nice as the inside of my eyelids.”

  “Weird way to phrase it, but okay. Right after sunrise.” Then she stepped inside, making sure to catch the door and shut it carefully before she went to conquer dinner.

  * * *

  “MOM, I HOPE the cooking classes are going well. Anything would be better than three more weeks of cereal.” She propped one hip against the crooked counter and ate another bowl of cereal as she considered the fact that her mother hadn’t called all day. They had talked yesterday while Elaine drove to the clinic, and she’d been relieved to hear more pep in
her mom’s voice as she’d described the apple pie she’d just pulled out of the oven.

  But nothing today.

  While climbing the stairs, she pulled out her phone. Her mother answered breathlessly after the third ring.

  “Hey, Mom, I wanted to make sure everything was fine. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, I just got back from an exercise class. Met the nicest person there.” Her mother sipped something, and Elaine counted down to the inevitable description of the most handsome man in the world. “Her name’s Betty. She’s a horrible cook, so I talked her into taking the classes with me next week.”

  Elaine blinked for two seconds while she adjusted her answer. “Well, that’s great. Does she have any idea you’re teaching yourself all about cooking before the class even starts?”

  Her mother laughed. “I never reveal my secrets. She’ll get there and believe I’m some kind of prodigy. It’ll be fun.”

  Elaine wondered if the title prodigy could describe someone her mother’s age, but she was so happy she let it slide. “Nice plan.”

  “I knew you’d be worn out. Busy day at work?”

  “Not bad. I told Dr. Bell I’d be doing less at the emergency center, and he was fine with that.”

  Her mother’s celebration was loud in her ear. “All right. Free time. Look out, single men of Tall Pines.”

  Elaine didn’t laugh but it was close. “Mom, the single men of Tall Pines? One’s seriously in love already and the other...” I’m living with. Nah. Her mother would start picking out china patterns, no matter how loudly Elaine explained the situation. “Anyway, there’s not a lot of inventory here.”

  Then she remembered that she’d actually gotten a dinner invitation and turned it down. If she told her mother, the response would be sorrow and dismay. So she didn’t.

  Besides, it was more of an order than a real request. Those were easy to say no to.

  “Well, maybe you need to get out of Tall Pines, then.” Her mother was serious as she said it. Elaine had to bite back her first angry answer.

  “No, the Tall Pines part of my life is actually working for me. I’ll figure out the rest.”

  After I buy the Bluebird and reopen the tearoom, no single man will show his face here without serious blackmail.

  Maybe she hadn’t considered her plan enough.

  “Go back to the kitchen. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After she hung up, she went to the window to see Dean sitting on the dock again. Even from this distance, though, he looked different. Before he’d seemed so alone, like a man facing off against the elements. Now he fit.

  That could be a problem. A week in, and she was connecting with her opponent in a way that made her wonder if she was doing the right thing. She needed the Bluebird, but standing there at the window, she wondered if maybe he didn’t need it more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “SORRY ABOUT THE screen door. Let’s fix that next,” Elaine said as Dean stepped out onto the porch the next morning. His hand covered a yawn that made her fight a yawn of her own. “Were you still asleep?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and then stretched both arms wide. “Yeah. Thank goodness. It’s been a while since I managed that.”

  “So I was right about one thing. Physical activity does help you sleep. I bet you’re going to love this.” Elaine let go of her right ankle and smoothly switched legs, folding her left leg up to stretch her thigh. He was watching her closely, no doubt impressed with her form.

  She’d been running since she was a teenager. She was good at it. “You should stretch. Wouldn’t want to get a cramp.”

  Dean frowned. “I think the only thing we can count on is me getting a cramp.” He put his foot up on the railing and tightened his shoestring. “I’ve already tried once. I gave up. Too slow. Most of my running has involved wild animals and men with guns. I’m not sure Spring Lake is going to deliver enough adrenaline to make this work for me.”

  Being reminded that he’d spent years risking everything to tell stories the world needed to hear while she’d been perfecting her runner’s form rattled her.

  “You’re probably right about that. Still could be fun. You’ve never tried running the way I do it.” Elaine skipped down the steps and turned around to trot backward. Showing off a little felt right. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.” She almost giggled when he blinked slowly. Then she could see the determination chase away some of the fatigue.

  When he started down the steps, she set off at a comfortable pace toward the trail she’d found around the lake the first morning she was there. Each step she took made her feel better, lighter, as though the farther she went, the fewer worries she had.

  “How are you doing?” His only answer was a wave. Elaine smiled. She was helping him. She stretched out her stride and quickened the pace.

  Every now and then she turned to check on him, and he kept pace with her. Of course he did. He wasn’t a runner, but one look at him would show a man in fine physical condition. Lugging camera equipment must be a thorough workout.

  When the sun rose over the mountain, Elaine checked her watch and said, “We should turn back now. I’ve still got to shower before work.”

  “Well, okay, but I thought this was going to be a workout.” Dean winked as he ran a circle around her and then took the lead.

  Oh, no. This would not do. She’d been taking it easy on him, and he’d been faking all along. He wasn’t even breathing hard. All the way she waited for a spot wide enough to pass him. When she came up on the small grassy clearing, she poured on the speed, raced around him and never looked back.

  Running at full speed, all she could hear was the thump of each step and the pounding of her heart. This was how she loved to run, all out, with everything it took. She felt alive and strong as she finished the path and raced up the steps with her arms in the air. Dean trailed her by at least ten seconds.

  Victory is mine.

  She watched him drop down in the shady grass in front of the steps and pant. “Were we racing? You need to warn a guy next...” He wiped his forehead. “Time.”

  Elaine slowly walked down the steps to stand over him. “Are you okay? You didn’t have to keep up with me. I enjoy running fast.”

  He looked up at her. “I thought we were running together. Isn’t that how this started?”

  He had a point.

  “Well...” She had no acceptable answer. To be honest, she was embarrassed that she’d treated their jog like the Boston Marathon. She offered him her hand. “Sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what got into me.”

  Dean took her hand and rolled up easily, as though he’d been faking being worn out for her benefit.

  “I know. You wanted to beat me. Got a real thing about winning, don’t you?” Dean winced. “Maybe we should have jogged together before I got into this bet with you. I definitely need to be on the lookout for sabotage. Right?”

  “I don’t cheat.” But winning a race against someone who didn’t even know he’d entered might not be completely honest.

  She stared at her running shoes, uneasy with how well he already knew her.

  He laughed. “Right. Beating me at a race I didn’t know we were running isn’t exactly cheating.”

  She took a deep breath. “Fine. I’m sorry. I just...” She rolled the edge of her T-shirt between two fingers. “Winning is important to me.”

  “And to most normal men and women in the world.” Dean took her hand in his, forcing her to stop the nervous habit. “What happens when you lose?”

  Elaine looked into his eyes and tried to come up with an answer to that question. She really couldn’t, and the truth made her sound like an arrogant diva. “I don’t lose.” She tried to tug her hand away so she could put some distance between them, but he wouldn’t
let go. “Seventh-grade best attendance. High school president of the student council. Scholarships. It’s just...that’s the way it is. I win. When I do, everything is all right. I’m happy.”

  Dean looked at their hands. “Are you afraid of what will happen when you lose? Because it’s inevitable. You’ve had a decent run, but everyone loses sometimes. Most of us live with mistakes. That makes it easier to accept them in others, you know.”

  She tugged on her hand again, and the slide of her skin against his reminded her how dangerous he was. Beating him would be impossible if he became Mr. Understanding, too.

  Obviously, he could see she didn’t have an answer for his question. He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow, let’s do something I’m good at. No competition. Just you, me and death-defying heights. Let’s climb.” He pointed at the mountain framing Spring Lake cove. “We’ll take cameras. We won’t look down. How much fun does that sound?”

  Almost as fun as her waiting room during cold and flu season. But she appreciated his willingness to ignore her crazy competitive streak. “Maybe. I’ll consider it. Probably not. I already have plans to wash my hair.” Relieved that he’d put them on solid ground, Elaine decided to postpone the heavy thinking about her drive to win and the sweet idea that someone might be able to accept her, failures and all. Sparring was easier.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Aw, I didn’t know you were a chicken. How sad for you.”

  Elaine laughed, and the hard knot of worry and embarrassment eased. “Maybe. That’s all I’m committing to.”

  “Fine. I’ll be on a ladder when you come out. Don’t look.”

  Elaine ran upstairs for a quick shower. As she put on clean clothes and left for the clinic, she wore a silly smile, and not even the thought of a long day of possible vomiters chased it away. At noon, she said, “Nina, I feel so good today, I’m going to take a lunch break.” Everyone else in the office had a lunch. She usually worked at her desk. Today she was going to get out.

  Nina checked the clock. “Sure thing, boss. This is a good time. No more appointments until two this afternoon. Got big plans?” She rested her chin on her hands as if she was hoping for juicy gossip.