Long Simmering Spring (4 page)

As always, when she walked the corridors, she was filled with a sense of pride.
Her
office. After years of studying and training at various hospitals, something finally belonged to her. She’d put a lot of work into it, painting the place herself in pale, happy hues. Julie turned a corner and nearly ran into Lisa Yarmouth, her resident nurse.

“Hey, g’morning!” Lisa said, quickly sidestepping Julie to avoid a collision. “I put the results from Thursday’s blood tests on your desk. I think we need to give Mrs. Titcham a call. Looks like her glucose levels are high, which could mean the type-two diabetes that runs in her family has finally manifested itself. Take a look and tell me if you agree.”

“Thanks, Lisa, I’ll do that,” Julie said as she continued to her office. Lisa was a five-foot-tall powerhouse with curly red hair and a big smile. She was whip-smart and efficient, and Julie was thrilled to have hired her.

Lisa had gotten her master’s degree at Boston College’s School of Nursing, but an aging grandmother living in a nearby town had brought her to the area. While visiting her grandmother, Lisa met Mitch Russell, a second-year PhD student at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. The two quickly fell in love and decided to get married. The timing had worked out just right, as Julie had opened her practice right around the same time Lisa was looking to move to the Cape. And because doctoral programs could take upward of six years, Julie knew she would be sticking around for a while.

Settling into her comfortable office chair, Julie made multiple phone calls, including one to Billy Miller’s Boston pediatrician, where they agreed that Billy would benefit from a booster shot. After she called Pru to let her know, Julie was ready to meet her first patient of the day. The morning passed quickly and it seemed to be noon in no time.

“Ladies,” she said to Cloris and Lisa, “I’m brown-bagging it today. I’m making a house call, but if anyone wants to join me for lunch, I’ll do it afterward.”

“Can’t, Julie. I promised Mitch I’d have lunch with him today. Now that we’re engaged, he wants to have lunch with me all the time. If he weren’t so cute, I’d complain,” Lisa said with a mock pout.

“You know me, I’m heading to the Kitchen, as usual,” Cloris said. The LMK was only a couple of blocks from the office and was Cloris’s favorite place to eat.

“Say hi to Lexie for me,” Julie said.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t I always?” Cloris responded grumpily. “Oof,” she cringed, as she hefted herself up on her aching feet. “Damn corns.”

Julie and Lisa exchanged a quick smile as all three women walked toward the door. Neither of them could tell how much of Cloris’s ailment was real and how much was imagined.

“Take it easy there, Cloris,” Lisa said kindly as she helped the older woman outside. “I’ll lock up for lunch. See you back here around one thirty.”

“All right. I’m off, then. See you at one thirty,” Julie called over her shoulder as she and Cloris walked slowly down Front Street.

At Morse, they parted ways. Julie headed north toward Harper’s Pond Road, and Cloris headed across the street to the LMK. As soon as Cloris was gone, Julie took in a deep breath and kept walking. She wasn’t thrilled about the meeting she was about to have with Margo Rathbone. First off, she didn’t typically do house calls. The town wasn’t that large, and everyone who needed her could get to her pretty easily. Second, Margo wasn’t even one of her regular patients. But this was a special case.

She’d gone to high school with Margo. In fact, she’d known her fairly well even though Margo was a couple of years older. Back then she was Margo Mabley, and she’d been a good student as well as a member of the track team. Margo had competed in long jump and hurdles, while Julie had run cross-country, so there’d been a bit of overlap at meets. But between high school and now, Margo’s life had gone in a very different direction from Julie’s.

Margo had a scholarship to U Mass, just like Julie. Unfortunately, she’d dropped out during her junior year when she got pregnant, returning to Star Harbor to marry Don, a man fifteen years her senior. Over the past few years, Julie knew Don had suffered a series of misfortunes including having his boat wrecked in a flash storm, losing four weeks of fishing during high season, and being in several bar fights. He was also a heavy drinker, and Julie was more than concerned about how that was affecting Margo and her son.

She got to Chapman Lane in good time. Most of the homes on the street were modest, but the Rathbone house stood out for its state of disrepair. The garden out front had gone to seed, the ground mostly bare except for some scrub grass. Spring flowers were unlikely to bloom, and the old, worn house had seen better days. There were cracks in the frame, dirty, grimy windows, and a grubby paint job. But Julie was here for one thing—Margo.

Determinedly, she walked up the front path, minding her step where the stone walkway had broken. She gave the door a few brisk raps.

In a moment, she heard some shuffling, and then the door creaked open. A plainly dressed woman with light brown hair appeared.

“Margo,” Julie said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes,” Margo said, eyes darting around. “Come in, please.” She gestured for Julie to enter and quickly shut the door behind them. Once inside, she seemed to relax somewhat. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course.” Julie eyed the woman. Margo was too thin and she had dark pouches under her eyes. “I wish you had told me what this is about over the phone, though. Can you tell me now?”

“Yes. I . . .” Margo swallowed, visibly nervous. “Don doesn’t like me going out, but I need some help.” She led the way into a small sitting room. Julie thought it odd that there weren’t any pictures, photographs, or decorative objects in the space. However, though the furniture was worn, it looked clean. “Please have a seat.”

Julie sat down on a small sofa and Margo perched on the edge of a nearby chair. There was an uncomfortable silence.

“You still running?” Margo asked.

“Yes. At least three times a week. You?”

Margo shook her head no.

There was more silence, so Julie finally spoke. “What can I do for you?”

“He—I,” Margo stammered before looking down, her cheeks staining red.

“It’s okay. Take your time.” Julie breathed in and wished she weren’t sitting so far away from the woman. The whole setup was stilted and uncomfortable. It would be so much easier if she were closer, but Margo seemed so skittish, she didn’t dare make a move toward her. “When you’re ready, you can tell me.”

Margo stared at the floor. “Birth control,” she finally whispered. “I ran out and I haven’t been to a doctor in a long time. Sometimes he doesn’t . . . use protection.”

“I can help you,” Julie said. She wasn’t here to judge, just to assist. “When was the last time you had an examination?”

“I don’t want an exam. I just want the pills,” Margo said, half rising from her chair.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Julie said, holding out her hand to try to soothe her old acquaintance. “I can write you a prescription for whatever you were taking before.” There was something wrong—
very
wrong—with the way Margo was acting.

She shook her head. “I can’t pick up a prescription. He’ll find out.”

The way she was talking about Don was more than disturbing, but Julie’s primary focus was getting Margo what she needed. “Okay, then. Can you have a friend pick it up for you?”

“I’m . . . not close with anyone anymore.”

“All right,” Julie said. “
I’ll
do it.”

Margo looked at her. “He can’t know.”

“Margo, I know we haven’t spoken in a long time, but I have to tell you that I’m pretty worried about you. Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything else I can do for you?”

“No. Nothing. Just the birth control. This is what I was using,” she said, pulling an empty pill package out of her pocket and handing it to Julie. Then she set her lips in a straight line and Julie knew she wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. Disappointed, she managed to keep herself in check.

“Okay. Can I drop it by in a few days?”

“No. A neighbor might tell him if you keep coming. If I can’t get away, I’ll get Quentin to do it.” Her eleven-year-old son.

Margo rose, so Julie took her cue to leave. Just before she stepped outside, she turned. “Margo, I hope you know you can always come to me. For anything.” She gave the woman a meaningful look.

“Thank you,” Margo said softly.

Julie left, worried and sad, wishing she could do more. Glancing at her watch, she realized she still had half an hour before she needed to be back at the office. Instead of simply eating at her desk, as she’d done so many times over the past few weeks, she walked down Morse Street toward the docks. After her depressing meeting with Margo, the fresh air felt good.

Once Julie reached the boardwalk, the familiar tang of salt water and wet wood hit her. She breathed in deeply and kept going toward the picnic bench at Mutterman’s Pier, where she sometimes liked to sit and eat her lunch with an unobstructed view of the harbor. She knew it was near where Val Grayson docked his houseboat—where the man who’d been invading her dreams was staying—and for some weird reason, she felt drawn there. But Cole would be at work, so there was no chance she’d see him. As she walked past the pier where the boat was moored, she sensed movement on the deck.

His back to her, a shirtless man was pulling on some rigging, his jeans snug around his lean hips, his broad back sporting some impressive tattoos. It was probably Val. The sunlight caught the sheen of sweat on his body as his muscles rippled. He and the boat swayed gently with the rhythm of the water, rocking back and forth. After tying off the rigging, the man turned to the side and Julie caught his profile. It wasn’t Val. It was Cole.

Instead of making her presence known, she slipped between two buildings. When she thought the coast was clear, she peeked out. Cole was still there, moving boxes across the deck, and she couldn’t help but stare.

If she’d thought he was in good shape wearing a shirt, seeing him with it off cemented her supposition. His biceps were enormous, and he was seriously cut, with well-defined pectoral and abdominal muscles. She could barely drag her eyes off his chest, which was covered in a light swath of dusky hair. He had a few tattoos on his arms in addition to the one on his back, and one on the side of his rib cage.

What am I doing here? I can’t just stand here and watch him work. Or can I . . .?

God, he was beautiful, his big body as graceful as a dancer’s as he moved with the motion of the boat
.
When he bent down, lifted a mop, and began to swab the deck in long, sweeping lines, her mouth went dry.

Boy, she really needed to get out more. Clearly, it wasn’t healthy for her to be living alone and spending most of her waking hours worrying about her business. Not if she was getting all hot and bothered by the sight of stuff like this. But what a sight it was! What would it be like to feel that huge body covering hers? Heat rushed to her face and began to creep downward, lower and lower. She put her hand on the side of the building to steady herself.

She was lonely. That had to be it. She loved Star Harbor, but ever since she’d moved back, she’d felt a little disconnected from life. Sure, she had a couple of close friends—Cameron Stahl, the owner of The Front Street Boutique, and Lexie Meyers—but if it weren’t for them coaxing her to go out, or Babs Kincaide’s twice-monthly dinner invites, she’d be at work or home alone most nights.

Cole had moved on to the sides of the cabin now, and every time he raised his arms, the muscles in his back flexed. She wanted to run her fingers over every delicious ridge. A dull flame had taken up residence right in her core. Suddenly uncomfortable, she shifted, more than conscious of her clothing dragging across all her sensitive bits. Now Cole had grabbed a bottle of water, twisted open the cap, and was tossing it back. A little water spilled on his chest, and his pecs tightened as he brushed it away.
She
would have licked it right off. Julie clenched her thighs together.

Swallowing back the dryness in her throat, she stayed and watched him for a few more moments before backing away, turning around, and heading right back to the one thing she knew she could count on: her office, where the safety of work awaited.

CHAPTER 5

Julie was watching him.

Not only could he practically feel her gaze searing his flesh, but he kept seeing flashes of her hair in the sunlight. The woman might be book smart, but it was pretty obvious she had no street smarts to speak of. Anyone with street smarts knew that if you were spying on someone, you’d keep out of sight.

He thought long and hard about going over there and kissing her senseless when, all of a sudden, she disappeared. Good thing, too, because it would have been the wrong time and the wrong move. But he’d confirmed one thing: brainy, beautiful Julia Kensington was interested. And there was no question he was interested right back.

In high school she’d been all wide eyes and shy gaze. Her body, once coltish, had matured into slim elegance. But her cool, professional veneer couldn’t hide the fire underneath.

For the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to being with a woman again. To unfurling her needs, her desires, slowly until she lay naked, unashamed before him. This woman wouldn’t give him everything in a heated rush—he knew that. She’d be slow to warm. Slow, but sure.

But it was obvious she was overthinking things. He’d wait as long as it took. Because there was something special about her. Olivia hadn’t been like that. They’d been hot and heavy right out of the gate, and while he wasn’t opposed to a fast-moving relationship—for the most part, it meant that it would be over quicker—his relationship with Olivia had taken too long to run its course. He should have seen the signs. There was no fighting—at least not on his part. He had simply been indifferent—to her, to their relationship, and to their life together. He’d known she wouldn’t be able to handle his PTSD, so he’d escaped to his own apartment every night before falling asleep, no matter how late it was. Thankfully, by the time Olivia started pressuring him to move in, he’d found an out. He’d already applied for—and had been appointed to—the position of sheriff of Star Harbor, so he simply moved all his crap into storage, packed some clothes into a duffel bag, and joined Val on his houseboat.