Come Back To Me (15 page)

When she slipped the paint splattered white tee shirt over her head her hair fell out of the twist, so she shook out the remaining pins and left it down. She grabbed her flip-flops and her backpack. Cara ran across the green grass barefoot, appreciating the feel of spring warmth between her toes. She slid into her flip-flops when she hit Market Street, trotting down the hill toward the bridge that led to the art building. She didn’t want to be late for her art history class. Cara had a brief presentation to make today.

Head down, rushing across campus, Cara tuned out her surroundings as she mentally reviewed her material. In the middle of the pedestrian bridge she banged into a hard body. Cara landed on her backside with a
whomp
, her pack tumbling off her shoulders.

“Sorry.” She groped for her pack. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No problem.”

Cara knew that voice. Her head spun around and she stared up into James’ face. He grinned from ear to ear. She got to her feet in a hurry.

“I like your hair down.” He tucked a long auburn curl behind her ear. “It makes you look like you.”

Remember to breathe
. Cara could feel herself blushing again. Just that slight brush of his fingers made the side of her face tingle.

“What are you doing on this side of campus?”

“Well, nice to see you too,” James replied with a laugh. “I was checking out the student art exhibit.”

“No. You weren’t. You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. Why? Is there something wrong with that?”

“No. It’s just that . . .” Cara stopped speaking and stared at him.

“It’s just what? That it’s your work? Is that what you’re trying to say?” He laughed again. “You weren’t so tongue-tied this morning. Is it me?” James looked directly into her eyes. “You’re staring at me. Do I have dirt on my face or something?”

That her smile.

“No, it’s just that I’m, well, I’m sort of shy about my work. It’s pretty personal stuff.”

“You could say that I guess,” replied James, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You could also say it’s pretty damn beautiful stuff. I was blown away.”

Cara was pleased. “You saw the entire exhibit?”

“Yeah, I did. And I kept this.” He pulled the folded poster out of his back pocket and showed her.

It was Cara’s turn to laugh. “Thank you,” she said.

∗    ∗    ∗

James heard the warmth in her voice. It felt like a caress.
Careful
, he told himself. He could get caught up in the sound of her very fast. They stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other.

“I have to get to class,” Cara said at last.

James leaned over and brushed his lips against her cheek. She gave a little gasp. God, she smelled heavenly, like fresh air and sunshine. “It’s good to see you again, Cara,” he whispered, his lips moving over her ear.

“You too,” she said. She sounded a bit breathless, standing there on the pedestrian bridge a moment longer than necessary. Suddenly she pulled away, slinging her pack over her shoulder. Cara jogged toward the art building.

James leaned against the rail, looking after her. Just before she entered the building she turned. She seemed surprised that he was still there, but she waved and then disappeared inside.

She had him. He was caught, thrashing helplessly like a fish on a hook. All Cara had to do was reel him in and she didn’t even know it. He’d looked at her paintings and it was as if he’d seen her soul on display. Everything her eyes shielded from the public was as clear as day in her work. She spilled her secret heart onto canvas, or whatever it was one called watercolor paper. Her feelings of lingering despair and loneliness were evident, but at the same time the paintings made him aware of her strong sensual nature, her natural vivacity and the powerful energy she buried deep inside. Cara’s interior world was filled with pain, true, but in contrast to the obvious pain, her paintings teemed with color and light and hope. The dichotomy was fascinating. It’s probably why she’d merited her own exhibit.

James had never been more physically and mentally aware of a woman in his entire life. He prayed there was a chance Cara might reciprocate. He dismissed the doubting voice in his head, the voice insisting this could end badly. He would do his best to see that it didn’t. James wasn’t completely clear about what he wanted, but there was no question that it was more than a one-night stand. He most definitely wanted more than a one-night stand with Cara.

∗    ∗    ∗

Once her classes were done for the day, Cara painted. She chose acrylics because she wanted more vibrant colors and if she messed up her work she could always fix it. She became so caught up in portraying the light she’d seen in James’ eyes that she couldn’t leave the studio until she’d managed to capture it to her satisfaction.

She loved his golden brown eyes. She loved the way the pupils enlarged, nearly covering that golden brown expanse when he saw something he liked, or when he was aroused or angry about something. She’d seen him upset and angry before—the night he’d brought her to the hospital. She’d seen his eyes today, twice.

The crinkles that appeared in the corners of his eyes when his mouth turned up in that devilish grin of his fascinated her. She smiled to herself as she painted, remembering the deep, warm, round tones of his laughter. Cara wasn’t much into life drawing although she’d included some charcoal sketches in her exhibit. She preferred abstract. This painting of James would be an abstract, aside from the eyes.

By the time Cara cleaned up her brushes and her work area, it was quite late. She wasn’t afraid to walk home in the dark. The campus was busy with students finishing projects, papers, taking tests. Someone was always around. Cara preferred the dark. She needed to examine her feelings about James and she didn’t want a single thought exposed on her face.

Cara remembered back to that winter night two and a half years ago, the night James had rescued her. He not only saved her life, he seemed to care about what had happened to her. She remembered his words to her.
It’s never been your fault. Men aren’t supposed to do that to women. Men aren’t supposed to frighten you or beat you or rape you. Men are not supposed to force you to have sex with them. Nobody is supposed to do that to you. Do you hear me? Nobody has the right to do that to you.

Something changed between them that night. Cara wasn’t quite sure what it was at the time, but James had become very important to her and not just as her trigger word. He was her ideal. If she ever decided to be with a man again, she’d want the man to be like James. In all honesty, she was forced to admit to herself that she’d want the man to be James. The problem was a man like James could have anyone, any woman he wanted. Why on earth would he want her? Yet she couldn’t deny the overt interest she’d seen in his eyes. No, Cara couldn’t deny the truth of that.

She’d learned the signs long ago. She knew when men were interested and she’d steered clear of that interest for over two years. She guessed she was pretty enough, at least Jeanie said she was, but being pretty was beside the point. The point was trust. Cara was terrified she’d do something she would regret, as she’d always done in the past.

Cara didn’t regret the time she spent with Rick, but she had never fully recovered from its aftermath. That episode was an indelible part of her now and it colored every decision she made. Just like David Walker was a part of her. Though the man had moved away long ago, she still carried him deep inside.

What if James touched her and she ran from him? What would he think of her then? That she was crazy?

Cara realized she’d already felt his touch a number of times and his touch hadn’t hurt. His hands had soothed and comforted her two and a half years ago, just as they had today. James’ touch made her want things she had no right to want.

Cara reached the door to her house. She climbed the stairs and switched on the light in her apartment. She’d forgotten to eat all day so she heated up some leftover tomato soup and threw a handful of grated cheddar cheese into it. She dropped a slice of whole wheat bread into the toaster, then walked the few steps into her bedroom and opened all the windows while she waited for the toast to pop up. The day had been warm and humid, but the night felt cool. Cara loved to leave her windows open, let the breeze drift over her at night. The toaster made a clicking sound and Cara returned to the kitchen. She sat at the small wooden table to eat her supper, preoccupied with thoughts of James. She brushed her teeth and took a quick bath.

Cara climbed into her bed and lay down below the windows. The night was dark, the breeze pleasant, yet sleep wouldn’t come. Restless, that’s how Cara felt. Restless, wired, aroused. Her stomach churned with anticipation, as if it knew something she didn’t. Cara tossed the sheet away and stood beside the bed. Other than the chirping of crickets the night was quiet. From an open window somewhere nearby, Cara heard a brief burst of female laughter. She listened to see if it would be repeated, but there was only silence.

Cara slipped out of her room and padded down the stairs. She opened the front door, propped it open with a rock, then hopped off the front porch and ran into the park beyond. The tender grass felt cool and springy against her bare feet. Filled with a sudden burst of energy, she skipped from one corner of the park to another until she collapsed onto her back into the soft grass, laughing. Something was coming. She could sense it. She could smell it in the soft night breeze as it drifted past. Something was definitely coming.

T
he screening on Saturday went well. Better than Cara expected. The three doctors arrived early. The drive was uneventful. Dr. Payne didn’t speak to Cara any more than was absolutely necessary, although William Donovan flirted shamelessly. James, on the other hand, sat in silence, gazing out the window.

Halfway to Pella they came to a stop at a railroad crossing and he caught her eye. He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. Then he turned his face back to the window. Cara did the same, but a corner of her mouth twitched and she nearly laughed as she’d done the night before in the park. The same anticipation she’d felt then was coiled in the pit of her stomach like a snake waiting for the right moment to strike.

As she always did at screenings, Cara set up a table near the entrance stocked with pens, screening forms and permission slips. She greeted participants with a reassuring smile. She helped them complete the forms, channeling them on to the nurses for vital signs. From there they moved to the phlebotomist for the blood draw and finally on to the three doctors so they could ask their questions and receive information about the cholesterol lowering project. Although James kept his voice quiet, as she worked Cara listened for it above the hum of all the other voices in the room. He sounded confident, smooth, soothing, reassuring. Cara could tell James was already a very good doctor. At least he had the bedside manner down pat.

The participants had been asked to fast before the blood draw. Cara and the other student assistant, Katie, made sure to provide orange juice, coffee and fruit afterward. The student assistant who’d held the position before Cara had always brought doughnuts. When Cara took over she told Jeanie that she considered doughnuts in the same room with information about a cholesterol lowering medication a bit of an oxymoron. Jeanie had just laughed and told her to bring whatever she thought was appropriate, so Cara had run with that and for two years they’d provided fresh fruit.

When the screening ended and the last patient had gone, James and William helped pack up. Dr. Payne grabbed the medical literature they’d brought and took it with him to one of the vans. Cara noticed him fidgeting in the back seat while the rest of them finished their tasks. The phlebotomists and the nurses made certain the blood samples were safely stored on ice for the ride home. Cara and Katie folded the chairs, while James and William carried the tables back to the closet in the VFW hall. Finally the vans were packed up. Cara decided to ride in the van Dr. Payne was
not
in and James followed her. William trailed after James, grimacing when he realized there was no room for him.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, shuffling towards the other van.

James snorted and looked after William’s retreating back. He turned to Cara. “Good,” he said, “I was hoping to have you to myself.”

“We’re not exactly alone,” she said. “There are six other people in the van.”

“Yeah, but Will isn’t one of them.”

Cara laughed. “I’m ignoring him.”

“As if that’s going to stop him, it never has in the past,” said James. “Do you want to go get something to eat? When we get back, I mean?”

Despite the wonder she felt at her newfound confidence, Cara didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. “I would love to,” she replied.

“Pizza and beer?”

“I don’t drink beer, but pizza sounds good.”

“Pagliai’s?”

“Absolutely.”

They climbed into the van, both squeezing into the rear bench seat. Within twenty minutes Cara’s eyes grew heavy. She hadn’t slept much the night before, and she’d been awake at four fifteen and at the Med Center loading the van at five a.m. Her head bobbed forward and she drifted off to sleep.