Always (7 page)

      Sue's blush deepened and she drew a deep breath. Even from across the room, Taylor knew the woman was trembling. She met Taylor's gaze, her eyes wide and almost pleading.

      Taylor blinked and looked again. Was Sue afraid Taylor would tell Ryan what had happened ten years ago? Though she had every reason to be upset–and she had been–she wasn't a vindictive person. Surely Sue remembered that about Taylor. She gave a slight shake of her head, hoping to dispel the woman's concern. The last thing in the world Taylor wanted was to shatter a young boy's image of his own mother.

      No matter who she was...or what she'd done.

      Sue gave Taylor an unsteady smile. "I think you should
both
come to dinner."

      Gordon shifted uneasily and Taylor's blush went from hot to molten. Searching for an excuse, she said, "Oh, I really couldn't–"

      "Nonsense." Sue took her son's arm and started out the door. "We have to get it through this kid's head that women are every bit as smart as men."
 

      "Ah, Mom."

      Sue paused to look over her shoulder, ignoring her son's protests. The look she flashed Taylor was filled with gratitude...and something more. Regret?

      "Have her there at six, Gordon. I have work to do and this young man has to get back to school. I think lunch is over. Hmm?"

      The door closed, leaving Taylor and Gordon alone again.

      Gordon glanced sideways at her. "Sue's..."

      "Trying too hard?" Taylor finished, leaning against the edge of his desk and determined to maintain her composure. She'd be gracious and sophisticated about all this.

      No matter what.

      "Looks like we're stuck with each other this evening," she finally said, hating the way her voice sounded.

      Something flared in his eyes, fleeting but powerful.

      "I'm really sorry for getting you into this," she said when he remained silent.
Why am I apologizing to him
? She was the one who'd been betrayed all those years ago.

      Gordon walked around his desk and opened a drawer. "Nothing for you to be sorry about." After a few seconds of shuffling around, he pulled out a key and passed it to her, his fingers brushing against hers with a jolt-and-a-half. "Fits the front and back doors."

      "Thanks." Taylor closed her hand around the key. "This must be...uncomfortable for you."

      He met her gaze and held it–possessed it, really. "Taylor, I..." Sighing, he shrugged and looked away. "I suppose it's fate."

      
Fate
. She didn't know exactly what he meant by that, but for some inane reason her breath quickened and liquid warmth settled low in her middle. This stuff wasn't meant for her–for them. Not anymore.

      "Fate?" she echoed, hating the throaty tone her voice had suddenly acquired. "This morning by the stream, my medical bag, the clinic, and now you have to take me to dinner at Sue's house? That's way above and beyond the call of duty, even for fate."

      Gordon chuckled and his expression warmed. "This would probably make a good movie."

      "Yeah, black comedy."
 

      They both laughed and Taylor welcomed the respite from the tension. It was good to hear his laughter, even though more unanswered questions continued to plague her. One in particular.
 

      Hiding her sense of loss, she stood and turned toward the door. "Well, I'd better find a place to unpack my supplies." She smiled, hoping he didn't see through her facade. "Can you point me to an examining room I might borrow for a while?"

      Gordon looked nervous as he stood and followed her into the hall. "Actually, there are two connecting rooms at the end of the hall we hardly ever use."

      "Perfect–an office and an examining room." Taylor let him lead, admiring his long, jean-clad legs and beautiful hair. "Since this is only temporary, there won't be time to have a second phone line run, or for me to hire someone to answer it, so I want to pay Sue something for the extra work."

      "That sounds fair."

      
So far, so good
. "And I'll...try not to bother you any more than absolutely necessary."

      Gordon stopped suddenly and turned to her. "Taylor, that isn't possible...and you know it."

      He brought his hands to the level of her shoulders and froze. A deluge of conflicting emotions showed plainly in his eyes. It both frightened and delighted her at the same time.
 

      His probing scrutiny searched, bore into her and tugged at feelings she'd wanted so desperately to keep buried. Safe. Unscathed.
 

      "I'll still try," she said quietly, severing the invisible thread which had momentarily connected them.

      Visibly shaking himself, he dropped his hands and opened the nearest door. "You can use this as an office–there's no desk, but there's a table and chair."

      "And a window. Thanks. It'll be fine." She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched, closing her eyes. "That long drive is catching up with me."

      "You probably want to rest before this evening."

      "Good idea." Was she really going to Sue's house for dinner–
with
Gordon?
Be tough, Taylor
. She forced a smile, then peeked into the adjoining room. "Ah, good. Cabinets for my supplies."

      "Are they in your car? I'll help you bring them in now, then I have to get ready for my afternoon patients...if there are any."

      "Thanks." Taylor edged past him, unable to avoid brushing against his arm. The urge to turn toward him and snuggle close nearly overtook her. Gordon had always been so cuddly and affectionate.

      Squelching her raging hormones and volatile emotions, she walked down the hall and through the waiting room. Digging her car keys from the pocket of her jeans, she hurried to her Volkswagen. Infuriatingly, her hands trembled, making her drop the keys in the dirt near her feet.

      "Here, I'll get them." Gordon bent to retrieve her keys, hesitating a moment before straightening. "Hmm. That's strange."

      "What?" Taylor held her hand out for the keys.

      "Promise not to freak out on me again?"

      Frowning, she looked down. "Oh!" Bear tracks. Again. "In town?"

      "No reason to panic."

      But when she met his fixed look, she saw worry etched across his features. "I don't remember bears coming this far into town before," she said, trying not to remember her one and only close encounter with a bear. She'd overreacted this morning–now she was more rational. At least, she hoped so.

      "Well, not as a rule." He smiled, obviously trying to hide his apprehension. "Let me get a closer look."
 

      Walking around the car, he paused several times to stoop down to examine the tracks. "Interesting."

      "What?" Taylor reminded herself not to panic.
 

      Straightening again, he met her gaze over the roof of her car. "Nothing to worry about."

      "Gordon." Her voice took on a warning tone.
 

      "It's nothing. Really." He shrugged, and gave her a sheepish grin. "Trust me."

      
Trust you
? Like a knife, the pain renewed itself, but she determined to bury it deep so he wouldn't see. Frowning, Taylor nodded. "Do I have a choice?"

      "There's always a choice, Taylor."
 

      The double entendre hit its mark, making her wince inwardly. Their eyes met and held, then he flashed her a weak smile that destroyed the moment.
 

      "Let's get your stuff," he said.

      She popped the trunk and watched Gordon remove her box of medical supplies. The muscles in his arms rippled through the white fabric of his lab coat.

      Time had definitely been kind to Gordon Lane.

      "Where should I pick you up this evening?" he asked, holding the heavy box. "You didn't say."

      Flashing him a mischievous grin, she tried to ignore the pain-riddled thunder of her heart. "Same place you did last time."

*
 
*
 
*

      Gordon brought his Jeep to a stop in front of the small Victorian house and stared. Talk about déjà vu.
 

      Same house. Same Jeep. Same girl...

      No, not a girl–a woman now. Very much so. Taylor the girl had haunted him all his adult life. Now the woman she'd become was turning his simple, well-ordered life into an adult-only version of
Alice in Wonderland.

      And he'd definitely followed that white rabbit.

      Remembering warm summer nights long past, he allowed himself a more leisurely stroll down Memory Lane. A stroll where hormones ran amok, and young bodies explored each other in every sense of the word....

      Gordon's blood supply redirected itself, pooling and throbbing until he had to shift uncomfortably to accommodate his responsive body. Angry with his inability to control his emotions or his physical reaction–just like a teenager–he climbed out of the Jeep and leaned against it.
 

      "History's history," he muttered. No matter how sweet or painful the memories, they couldn't change the fact that Taylor hadn't trusted him. Besides, the future she'd chosen for herself didn't include him or Digby.

      Tom Bradshaw's words returned to torment Gordon. "
She says she's only staying for the term of the contract, but I'm hoping we can change her mind.
"

      Scowling at himself and at the past, Gordon stepped onto the sidewalk and opened the gate. The scent of roses touched his nostrils, and he remembered Taylor's dress for their senior prom. Her mother had made it and Gordon thought it the most beautiful one he'd ever seen, not that he had ever been much of an authority on women's clothing. Of course, now he realized the beauty he'd seen had been in the wearer, not the dress.
 

      She'd worn tiny rosebuds in her hair. He drew another deep breath and closed his eyes against the continuing battle between past and present.

      "Enough."

      Shoving one hand into his pocket he marched up the walk and rapped on the door. He was finished dwelling on the past. Taylor was home now, but not for long.
 

      The door opened and he tried to smile. Taylor stood staring at him through the screen, an expression of uncertainty making her look so much like the girl he'd last seen framed in this doorway.
 

      "Good evening," he said, wishing the sun had already set. Darkness might help hide his turmoil and the pang of recollection.

      "Evening," she returned, pushing open the screen. "Come in for a second while I grab my sweater."
 

      Reluctantly, Gordon followed her into the all-too-familiar living room, then she rushed up the stairs, leaving him alone again with his memories. His throat felt full and his stomach gave a decisive lurch.
Damn.

      Looking around the room, he found the piano and was once again transported into the past.

      "I'm ready."
 

      Then he saw her standing at the bottom of the stairs. Dressed in a print skirt and green knit top, with a white sweater slung over her arm, she looked...

      Incredible.

      He swallowed hard and tried to deny himself the pleasure of allowing his hungry gaze to linger on the shape of her breasts beneath the clinging fabric. His impudent and infuriating memory provided his imagination with her hidden attributes.

      In minute detail.

      "I hope this is all right," she said quietly, prompting Gordon to look up at her lovely face.

      "Uh, you look fine." The truth was, she looked a whole hell of a lot better than fine, but that was dangerous territory. "Sue's strictly the casual type."

      "Yeah, I sort of remembered that."
 

      She smiled in a sad way that tugged at something he knew was better off left buried deep in his subconscious. Unfortunately, today he seemed to have very little control over anything his mind decided to summon.
 

      Maybe once the initial shock of having her home again wore off, he'd be able to control his thoughts a little better. Sure, that made sense. Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and smiled. "It's only across town, but we don't want to be late if we know what's good for us."

      Crimson crept up her neck to her cheeks and Gordon couldn't help but wonder what he'd said to cause her to blush. Or maybe she'd noticed the direction of his gaze a few minutes ago. With super-human effort, he resisted the urge to look again.

      They stepped outside and he pulled the door to, then she inserted the key and sent the dead bolt home. Such extreme security measures seemed out of place in Digby, but whoever owned the house now obviously didn't agree.