Adams family revolved around her father. Though he was in his eighties now, none of them could imagine life without him. This heart attack had been a warning that he wasn’t invincible. She’d heard the stunned shock in the voices of each of her older brothers when she’d spoken to them. Her older half sister, Jenny, had been even more transparent. Jenny, who wasn’t afraid of anything, was clearly terrified at the prospect of losing their father.
In the end, despite his irksome meddling, Harlan Adams was the force that guided all their lives. And even though he’d hated seeing his youngest—the surprise of his life, he liked to say—go off to Miami to medical school, he’d done what needed to be done to pave the way. Lizzy would always be grateful to him for that, for letting her go her own way.
He hadn’t been so easy on his sons or even on Jenny, who’d been fourteen and hell-bent on self-destruction when he’d married her mother. He’d forced Luke, Jordan, Cody and Jenny to fight for their chosen careers, putting up roadblocks and hurdles that would have daunted them had they been less determined. Lizzy had been prepared to do the same.
She’d begun by using her wiles as his “baby girl” and then dug in her heels as a typical Adams. Not even the formidable Harlan Adams had had the strength to stand in her way. As much as she loved ranching and despite a whole rebellious year during which she’d experimented on the rodeo circuit, medicine had always held a special place in her heart.
Maybe it had something to do with all those TV shows she’d devoured—reruns of the old Marcus Welby, M.D. and Ben Casey series, hot new series like ER and Chicago Hope—shows that had made medicine seem every bit as thrilling as a few seconds on a bucking, bareback horse. She’d thought about medicine all through her undergraduate days at the University of Texas, volunteered at a nearby hospital to soak up the atmosphere, and taken a premed program, just to prove to herself that she’d chosen wisely.
Only one man could have made her change her mind, she thought with a predictable surge of very complicated emotions. Rancher Hank Robbins had had the power to sway her decision way back when she’d first left for college, but he hadn’t. He’d wished her well and waved goodbye as if she’d been no more than a casual acquaintance.
Even now, years later, tears threatened as she thought of how easily that particular man had let her go even after the impulsive, passionate kiss she had initiated had proved just how badly he wanted her to stay. Maybe he’d only meant to do the honorable thing, but rejection was rejection and it had hurt more than she could say.
And yet, if she was to be totally honest, she couldn’t help feeling at least a trace of gratitude that he, like her father, hadn’t stood between her and her dream. He’d been twenty-four then, the same age she was now, and already he’d been wise enough to see she needed to test her wings.
Still, in all the years since, she’d been careful to avoid Hank. Embarrassment over that kiss was only part of it. Stubborn pride had kicked in, too. But the bottom line was something else entirely. She was afraid, a flat-out coward, in fact. To be honest, though, she wasn’t sure what she feared most; that he might not let her go a second time...or that he would.
Yet she couldn’t be back home for long without wondering about him. She was pathetically eager for any mention of him, any hint of gossip about his activities. And every time his name came up in conversation, she was terrified that it would be in connection with a wedding announcement. She’d found she could accept with relative calm the news of his being seen with this woman or that. It was only the repeat of the same woman’s name that stirred a well-spring of anxiety deep inside her.
It was all ridiculous, of course. In almost five years away, she’d dated dozens of men herself. After the first couple of years when she’d stared at an old snapshot for hours on end, lately she’d gone for entire weeks without once picturing Hank’s rugged features or wishing she could hear the low, seductive sound of his voice.
Eventually, she had buried the snapshot in the bottom of a dresser drawer and rarely took it out deliberately. When she stumbled across it, though, her heart always lurched, the pain as fresh as it had been five years ago. Schoolgirl crush or not, she had idolized the cowboy next door.
And all it ever took to resurrect the memories of that long-ago and very much unrequited love was the thought of going home. She’d been thinking about Hank nonstop for the past few days, ever since her mother had called to tell her about her father’s heart attack.
The two men were so much alike, despite the decades of difference in their ages. Stubborn, strong men, both of them. Men with staying power. Men capable of powerful emotions and guided by a deep-rooted sense of honor.
So, the truth was, Kelsey was only partially right about Lizzy’s thoughts being on her father, instead of concentrating on her exams. In addition, she’d been wrestling with the thorny question of what to do about Hank Robbins, how to—or even if she could—shake the hold he had on her. She’d finally concluded that there was only one way to get Hank permanently out of her thoughts. She had to swallow her pride and see him again. This time she wouldn’t avoid him. This time she’d discover if the attraction was still alive.
Maybe then she would be able to put Hank Robbins behind her once and for all, get her medical degree and begin practicing in some big city so far away that she’d never be reminded of him at all. Maybe then she would be able to stop comparing every man she met to the one who’d gotten away.
Or maybe things would get a whole lot more complicated, she conceded candidly. More fascinating, yes. She recalled the way his lips had felt on hers, the way his arms had felt around her. Definitely fascinating. But there was a price for fascination, a whole Pandora’s box of complications.
“Lizzy, are you okay?” Kelsey asked, her brow over her thick horn-rimmed glasses knitted with concern. “You’re not really worried about this grade, are you? It’s a tiny blip on your academic record.”
Lizzy forced a smile. “I’m fine,” she insisted, setting out for the chemistry lab. “One more exam to go, and then I’m out of here.”
Unfortunately, the chemistry exam had nothing to do with the hormonal tug-of-war between a man and a woman. In her current state of mind, she could have written lengthy essays on that particular subject.
On a more optimistic note, it was a written test, rather than a practical exam. The way her mind was wandering, if she’d had to conduct experiments, she very likely would have blown up the whole blasted building.
“Lizzy’s corming home,” Cody Adams said casually as he and Hank sat on a fence rail between their properties.
Hank had no difficulty at all keeping his expression impassive. He’d had lots of practice over the years at pretending that he had no interest whatsoever in Lizzy’s comings and goings. Unfortunately, Lizzy’s big brother had his own opinion of Hank’s fascination with his baby sister and he used almost any opportunity to taunt Hank about it.
“For how long this time?” Hank inquired, keeping his tone every bit as neutral as Cody’s. Most of Lizzy’s visits had been whirlwind affairs during which he’d never once caught a glimpse of her. He suspected that was deliberate on her part. He also had no reason to think this time would be any different.
In fact, he’d long since come to terms with the fact that keeping his distance from Mary Elizabeth Adams was the wisest thing he could do. The woman had a way of clouding his thinking, of making him want things he had no business wanting if he expected to turn the run-down ranch he’d bought into a respectable neighbor for the Adamses’ White Pines operation. Besides, Lizzy wasn’t interested in being a rancher’s wife. She had her own dreams.
“A couple of weeks, I suppose. Whatever spring break is these days,” Cody said.
“I see. I imagine she’s been anxious about Harlan.”
“That’s part of it, I’m sure.” Cody grinned. “Then