shamelessly.
“Works without faith is dead, dear.”
Check. Her mother may come across as eccentric at times, but when it came to her faith, Beatrice had all the intelligence and knew all the strategies.
“This is what I do, Mother,” Rachel said finally. “I don’t have time for a boyfriend and I don’t have the inclination for one. So please, no more awkward dinners.”
She hoped her mother’s silence meant that she had surrendered.
“I’m happy, Mom.” She pressed on, determined to make her mother see the light. “I live a busy, active life that has purpose and meaning. I have friends and I have a community and a job that is important. And I have you and Dad and Gracie. I don’t need more.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. It’s just that I thought you and Eli would hit it off. He’s a good, kind man.”
Rachel thought of the smirk she’d caught on his face. The appeal of his languid good looks. Good and kind were not words that came to mind in connection with Gracie’s pediatrician.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll make someone a wonderful husband. But not me, Mom.”
Beatrice sighed. “Point taken, my dear. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You created an awkward situation. But you didn’t offend me.”
“Good. Well, I’d better go. I have an appointment with a physical therapist and after that Dr. Eli. Shall I tell him you said hello?”
Her mother was irrepressible. “Do whatever you want, Mom. Love you.” Though she said the words automatically, she did mean them. Her mother could make her crazy at times, could embarrass her at other times, but Rachel loved her parents dearly.
“Love you, too, dear.”
Rachel couldn’t help but smile when she hung up the phone. Dear Mom. Rachel had thought her mother’s adopting Gracie would satisfy her nesting instinct, but it looked like Rachel was going to have to be on her guard.
“Okay, guys. Final play of the game and we can’t afford to lose.” Alex crouched down, his back to the opposing team, and sketched the play in the grass in front of Eli and the other two teammates. “Eli, Ben is going to be watching you and we want to use that. See if you can fake him out.” When he was done, he held up his fist, his deep brown eyes sparkling with fun. The guys in the circle around him all hit it, called “break” and jogged to where a handkerchief on the grass of the park showed the line of scrimmage.
For the past three years, Sunday mornings would find Eli, his brother Ben, and their friends lining up against one another in Winchester Park for their weekly touch football game. Sometimes the wives and girlfriends came, sometimes they stayed at home. Sometimes Eli’s pager would go off and the game would be called. Sometimes Ben’s daughter Olivia would get tired and want to go home. But mostly they managed to finish their games.
The one constant was that Ben and Eli consistently played on opposing teams. It was a vague throwback to when they were young and constantly in competition with each other. Growing up had eased the competition, but hadn’t erased it.
Eli unbuttoned his shirt and wiped the sweat from his forehead with one end, squinting up at the sky, hazed over with humidity and heat. If he’d known it was going to be this warm, he wouldn’t have worn blue jeans.
“Hey, Doc, I’m watchin’ you.” Ben grinned at Eli and nodded. “I know you have a plan.”
Eli crouched down, resting his hands on his knees. “You do that, Ben. Don’t think we’re not counting on that.”
“You’re workin’ me, Eli. Playin’ me.”
“Now, Ben. Don’t be so mistrustful. Do what you think is right.” He leaned a little closer. “Use the force, Luke.”
Alex called out the play, and Eli could see doubt clouding Ben’s face as Alex glanced down the line away from Eli. As he did, Eli broke away, and Ben took the bait and veered away from him. Eli turned, and Alex spun in a different direction and snapped the ball directly to Eli, who caught it against his chest, cradling it like a child, grinning at Ben’s shout of disappointment.
Eli ran past the stroller that marked off the goal line, and spun around, holding up the ball in a gesture of victory. Ben was coming at him, vengeance in his eyes.
With a laugh, Eli swung left to avoid his brother. He looked up and, too late, saw Rachel Noble coming directly at him. She had veered off the walking path, a soft leather briefcase slung over her shoulder, cell phone clamped to one ear, a sheaf of papers in her free hand.
They would have collided, but at the last possible moment, Eli dropped his football and caught her by the shoulders to steady her and catch his balance. Her papers fell out of her hands and her briefcase slid down her shoulder as she came to an abrupt halt, teetering. She almost dropped her cell phone, as well, but it bobbled in her hands and she managed to hang on.
“What are you—?” She yanked the strap of her briefcase up her shoulder, but it stopped when it hit his hand.
“Are you crazy?” She looked down at her papers. Hitched her strap up again. Hit his hand again.
Then looked up at him.
As her hazel eyes met his, anger snapping in their depths, he felt it again. A light flutter, somewhere in the region of his heart. He had experienced it when he pulled up beside her at the stop sign and she had looked over at him. And felt it again at her parents’ place when he and Charles had come into the kitchen and he realized the beautiful woman he’d been openly flirting with, moments before, was his patient’s sister. Daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Chestnut Grove.
She wore another suit today. This one was olive green with a white shirt. Tidy. Together. With a hint of uptight. He wondered what she would look like in blue jeans, with her hair down.
She blinked once, and to his surprise, the anger seeped out of her eyes. If she hadn’t looked down, he could have seen what replaced it.
“Excuse me, please,” she mumbled, pulling back against his hands.
He had forgotten he was still holding her. He released her, reluctantly.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you.” His apology sounded halfhearted even to him. “I was just trying to avoid Ben here.” He glanced back over his shoulder at his brother, who had kept his distance but was watching the two of them with avid interest.
“That’s okay. I was off the path.” She was about to bend down to pick up her papers.
“Here. I’ll do that.” He gathered them up, but as he handed them to her he belatedly saw the dark smudge marks his fingers had left on the white sheets.
As she tried to brush them off, he realized he had left the same marks on her suit coat. “Sorry about that,” he said, pointing to the faint marks of four fingers on her upper arms. “I’ll pay for the cleaning.”
“Please, don’t worry.” She gave him a quick smile that revived that flutter again. “It was my fault.”
Eli rubbed the back of his neck, aware that his unbuttoned shirt hung open. He lowered his arms, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his blue jeans. He angled his chin toward her papers, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. “Do you work every day of the week?”
Rachel frowned up at him. “I do what needs to be done. My work is very important.” Her voice took on a chill that made him take a step away.
“Of course.” Brilliant, Cavanaugh. You won the football game, but here and now you’re officially a loser.
“Well, I’ll see you around, I guess.”
“I guess.” She gave him a polite smile, and with that she became again the aloof woman that had sat across from him at Charles and Beatrice Noble’s table.
“You