Tempted in the Tropics (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“We only have one vacant unit, so you’ll need to make a decision as soon as possible,” the perky rental agent said to Lane.

“Gotcha.” He took one last look around the decked-out clubhouse and headed for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

He zipped up his jacket and went to his car, thinking this must be the hundredth cookie-cutter apartment complex he’d seen in the west end of Richmond. After nearly a week of looking, none of the places had even remotely felt like home. Certainly none of them had the quaint personality of his rental house in Maple Creek. At first he’d thought he just needed to fast-forward and look for a house—maybe that would cure him of the empty feeling he got from the apartments. But looking at houses seemed like a giant step toward permanent.

Permanently alone.

Thankfully, he’d managed to convince Stephanie not to follow him here, and even if she did, there was no future for them. Right now he needed to focus on his new partnership at the practice where he started next week. He’d caught such a break, getting the offer, but he couldn’t muster much excitement about it, or his new life here in Richmond.

Nothing was exciting now that he’d lost Paige. Leaving her in Maple Creek was one of the most difficult things he’d ever experienced, and that was saying something, considering all he’d been through. It tore him up to think she’d fallen for him, too. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would hurt less if she hadn’t.

It was nearing dinnertime, so he drove to a nearby Chipotle, thinking a steak burrito bowl might improve his mood. He stood in line, watching the people, thinking they could possibly become his patients. But none of them would be like the characters he’d met in Maple Creek. He’d rolled into town thinking the people there were too old and the place ran too slow. Now that he’d left, he realized he kind of liked it that way.

I
kind of
apologize.
He smiled, remembering Paige’s inimitable way of saying she was sorry. So many unremarkable moments they’d shared had become remarkable in his mind.

Lane got his burrito bowl and sat down to eat—alone—thinking of Paige and her dad, of Mayor Warren and Fairleigh Hawthorne, of the bakery and the barbershop, and the town of Maple Creek.

I did the right thing, didn’t I?

He rubbed his hand on his chest. Was it his imagination, or did his heart literally ache?

…

Life was cruel sometimes—especially around Valentine’s Day. Paige was thrilled to have gotten the huge order for petits fours for Maple Creek’s Valentine’s banquet. The money would cover a lot of what she’d lost after Lane had jacked with the Secret Recipe program, especially now that Dr. Hartley was back. She’d recover from that, but she wasn’t sure she’d recover from her broken heart.

He’d been gone a week, but it felt more like a year. Every time she drove by his dark rental house, she tried to focus on Mayor Warren’s place across the street, instead of thinking about the night they shared together there. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d stopped in at Sweet Bee’s his last day in town, and she didn’t expect to. Obviously, he hadn’t really cared for her, and he’d been more than happy to leave. She’d been a fool to spill her feelings for him, and she wished she never had. He didn’t deserve a girl like her anyway. She might not be all polished and poised and professional, but her heart was sincere, and that was more than she could say for his. No doubt she was better off without him.

It’s just not going to happen for us.
What a hell of a way to dump someone.

For all she knew, he’d fed her a line about Stephanie and the two of them were back together. If he wanted a girl like that, then Paige never stood a chance.

At least baking for the Valentine’s banquet had kept her busy. That, and keeping up with her father’s care and progress now that he’d come home. After her dad’s stroke, Mayor Warren had started a fund to help pay for his home care expenses. Paige and her dad had been overwhelmed by the response, and so grateful.

Her dad and Sweet Bee’s kept her going. And the people of Maple Creek. There weren’t any secrets here, and word had gotten out that she was brokenhearted over Lane. The outpouring of support for her and her father had returned some of the magic that they’d given the townspeople over the years at the bakery and barbershop.

And that’s why she couldn’t skip the Valentine’s banquet this year, as much as she wanted to. It was a time when they all got together and celebrated love, and they’d shown plenty of that to Paige and her dad. The least she could do was show up and show her appreciation to them. She’d gotten permission from the banquet committee to put stickers on each box of heart-shaped petits fours she’d baked. They said,
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. The Ellerbees.

Paige’s dad escorted her into the Ruritan Hall, the site of the Valentine’s banquet and other popular community events. As much as she wished that Lane were her date, she was incredibly grateful that her dad was able to graciously step in, as she’d done for him after her mom died. That he’d recovered enough to be there and enjoy himself buoyed Paige’s heart above the painful undercurrent of losing Lane, even though she never had him in the first place.

Inside the hall, the ladies had gone all out with festive and tasteful decorations. It had always been hit or miss over the years, and decorations varied from twisted crepe paper streamers to lacy doilies to little stuffed devils wearing T-shirts that said “Hot for You” (Paige’s personal favorite). This year, the florist had donated small centerpieces for the tables—real red-tipped white carnations in short square vases. They’d outdone themselves with two big arrangements on either side of the stage where a band of several men from town, led by Dr. Hartley, played romance classics and country tunes.

The hall was nearly full already, and Alice, who’d volunteered as a greeter, gave Paige and her dad their table number. “Don’t you two look spiffy?”

“Thanks, Alice.” Paige smoothed her hand down her crimson sheath dress, then adjusted the rose boutonniere on her father’s lapel.

“You’re looking lovely yourself,” her dad said to Alice.

As they started to walk away, Alice leaned in close to Paige and whispered, “You doin’ okay?”

Paige forced a smile and nodded. “It’s good to have Dr. Hartley back.” And it was. Things were returning to normal, and Paige was confident she could serve her customers better now.
Without the distraction of Lane.

“Feels like old times,” Alice said.

Paige and her dad made their way to their table near the front of the hall. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw who was already seated there. Cole and Liza Collins, John and Sylvia Sutherland, Fairleigh Hawthorne, Mayor Warren, and Cyn.

Liza jumped up and hugged Paige tightly. Paige struggled not to break into tears. She could tell that Liza already knew what had happened even though she and Cole had just gotten back from their honeymoon today. Sylvia was next in line for a hug.

“I can’t believe you two showed up here tonight,” Paige said to Liza and Cole. “You have to be exhausted.”

“Never too exhausted for a Valentine’s banquet,” Cole said. “And I hear the Maple Creek one is a classic.”

Paige and her dad sat down.

“You’re getting around great,” Sylvia said to Paige’s dad. Sylvia had been to see him several times while he was in rehab, and kept in touch with Paige about his care.

“Doc says I can go back to work at the end of the month,” he said proudly.

Paige beamed and clutched his hand, so thankful Lane had gotten him to the hospital in time for him to get the care he needed. At least there was that.

Dinner was served—a salad, delicious roast beef, mashed potatoes, and a brussels sprout recipe with blue cheese and bacon that actually made them edible.

“Caldera was the closest to paradise I’ve ever been,” Paige said to the Queen.

She lifted her chin regally. “It’s my favorite of all our resorts. I just love the bathtubs.”

Paige tried to block out the disturbing mental image of the Queen in a bathtub.

“We couldn’t have picked a more perfect place for our wedding.” Liza gazed lovingly at Cole. Paige knew now what it felt like to adore someone like that, and how it felt to lose him. She’d fallen hard for Lane—in totally smitten fairy-tale love—but without the happily ever after.

Between dinner and dessert, Dr. Hartley stepped away from the band onstage and addressed the crowd. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said to a round of enthusiastic applause. “I came back from Europe just in time. It was my fantasy trip, that’s for sure, but I’m more convinced than ever that there’s no place like home.”

“Hear, hear,” Mayor Warren called out, and the crowd applauded again.

“In Maple Creek, we love our traditions, and the Sweetheart of the Year award is one of our favorites.”

Cyn caught Paige’s attention and rolled her eyes. Maple Creek’s Sweetheart of the Year had gone to the Queen every other year since forever, and it was her turn again. On the odd years, random others had won the award, none of them under the age of sixty-five. Even so, those were the good years, because when the Queen won, she’d commandeer the microphone and talk about herself for at least fifteen minutes—a party foul, for sure, particularly since it delayed dessert. At least everyone had the take-home petits fours in boxes on the table. They could break into those if the Queen babbled on too long.

“This year,” Dr. Hartley said, “the Sweetheart of the Year award goes to someone who brings a spark of magic to Maple Creek…”

Cyn leaned back so the Queen couldn’t see her and made a you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me face at Paige. They must really be desperate for the Queen to fund something for the town this year.

Dr. Hartley continued. “We don’t know what we’d do without her warm smile, her quirky humor, and her baked goods that are healthy and delicious.”

Paige’s heart hitched.

“For all the happiness you bring to all of us, I’m honored to present this year’s Sweetheart of the Year award to Paige Ellerbee.”

Stunned, Paige looked at the Queen, who smiled demurely and nodded her blessing. She turned to her father, who beamed with pride. It was a silly, small-town award, but it elated Paige to know she was loved and appreciated. She kissed her dad on the cheek.

“Go get your award, sweetie,” he said. “You deserve it.”

Paige stood to applause and whistles, and went up on the stage where Dr. Hartley placed a narrow pink-red-and-white ribbon around her neck from which hung a silver heart charm. The pressure of tears welled in Paige’s throat as Dr. Hartley handed her the microphone.

Looking out on the smiling, supportive crowd, she was overwhelmed with gratitude. She may have lost out on love with Lane, but she’d found it with the townspeople of Maple Creek. “Wow,” she said. “If I would’ve known you all were gonna give me this, I’d have written a fifteen-minute speech.”

The crowd broke out in laughter, and Paige avoided looking at the Queen. She did glance quickly at Cyn, who gave her a discreet thumbs-up.

“I just want each of you to know that you’re what makes Maple Creek magical, and my dad and I are incredibly grateful for your friendship and support.” She handed the microphone to Dr. Hartley as the crowd applauded again.

Paige began to walk off stage, but Dr. Hartley gently grasped her elbow. “I want to thank Paige for all the assistance she’s given me over the last couple of years,” he said. “She’s been selfless in baking special recipes that have made a big difference in the health of many of you. I thought it would be appropriate for her to be up here with me tonight, since I’m announcing my retirement from practicing medicine—if everything works out.”

Paige’s stomach pitched. Could she stand another loss? Having Dr. Hartley next door on one side of Sweet Bee’s was nearly as comforting as having her father next door on the other. And what would become of the Special Recipe program?

A collective “aw” rose from the audience, quickly followed by nervous chatter.

“I’m not getting any younger,” Dr. Hartley said, “and there’s a lot of the world my bride and I want to see.”

Paige struggled to keep an appropriate expression on her face, since she was standing up there in front of the crowd, but she was as stunned as everyone else.

“I’d been toying with the idea of retiring,” Dr. Hartley said. “But I recently visited with my nephew—Dr. Anderson to most of you—and he convinced me that now is the time. You see, he really enjoyed taking care of you folks while I was away, and he liked living here in Maple Creek. It seems as if a lot of you cottoned to him, too.”

Paige’s heart started pounding so hard that the silver charm hanging from the ribbon around her neck was probably jumping with each beat. Was Lane coming back?

“He’d like to take over my practice,” Dr. Hartley said. “And I think that’s a fine idea.”

Paige scanned the crowd. A lot of people nodded as if they agreed. She couldn’t even think that fast.

Dr. Hartley’s expression turned grave. “But then I learned there was a problem.” He cleared his throat. “It turns out Dr. Anderson has a heart condition that might prevent him from taking over the practice.”

Paige’s stomach leaped into her throat as the crowd gasped.
Lane has a heart condition?

Dr. Hartley shook his head ruefully. “Turns out there’s only one specialist who might be able to help him, but we’re hopeful.”

Paige’s heart raced. She pressed her lips together, wishing she weren’t on display while she processed the news about Lane. His family must be devastated.

The main door in the back of the hall opened, and Lane stepped inside, dressed in a dark suit and an open-collared white shirt, and Paige worried that she was hallucinating.

…

Lane took one look at Paige standing on the stage and his heart nearly burst. She looked stunning in her crimson dress, her hair shiny and loose. He’d only been away from her a week—long enough to know he never wanted to be without her again.

He strode around the tables as he made his way toward the stage, holding her gaze as he stepped to her side and Uncle Pete backed away. Just seeing her again had caused the words he’d memorized to slip from his mind.