her brain a moment to translate what she was hearing. “Wait! What do you mean they can’t have the wedding at the church?”
Scott watched in alarm as Meg went sheet-white. He hadn’t seen a woman look so close to fainting since his E.R. days when a young mother had brought in a five-year-old with a head wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
Holding Meg’s elbow, he steered her toward a nearby bench. She’d disconnected the phone call, her expression stricken.
“I’m going out on a limb here—that wasn’t good news?” He tried for a joking tone, but it sounded flat. He remembered laughing all the time with Meg. She’d always been able to find the amusing and absurd in any situation, a welcome change from his occasionally grim shifts at the hospital. Now, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d really laughed. When had joking around with other people started to feel forced and unnatural? With kids, he could still tap into just enough silliness to calm their fears, but that was more bedside manner than an indication of who he really was.
“The church cancelled,” Meg said woodenly. “I can’t believe this! The weather finally warmed up a couple of degrees and now the pipes burst?”
“Sometimes the worst damage comes when frozen pipes start to thaw,” he told her. “Places around here, where freezes are rare, aren’t as prepared as facilities up north.”
She blinked. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive about the damage to the church and the cleanup they’re facing, but Lucy’s wedding is the day after tomorrow! What am I going to do? She’s already a nervous wreck. How am I supposed to tell her this on top of everything else?”
Scott sat next to her. In another lifetime, he would have put his arm around her, pulled her into a comforting embrace. The temptation was there, but…getting that close to Meg, letting her past the wall of cool reserve that protected him? It would be like those frozen pipes that had started to thaw and then crack: disaster. She’d hurt him once. Only a fool would risk becoming emotionally vulnerable to her again.
“You’re really taking this hard,” he observed, at a loss for what to say.
“It’s my job!”
“Your latest job.”
Color came back to her cheeks as she glared at him, brown eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You do have a history of bailing when things get difficult, Meg.” The anger that washed through him caught him off guard. He hadn’t planned to get personal. But maybe he needed this closure, since the way she’d left him—and subsequently dodged his calls—hadn’t allowed him to properly say goodbye. She’d even quit the bakery, effectively disappearing from his life. “Are you sure you’re going to stick around and help Lucy through this? Wouldn’t it be easier just to wash your hands of the whole mess and leave her a note wishing her well?”
“I would never do that!”
His gaze clashed with hers, challenging.
Meg ducked her head, blushing with guilt even as she insisted, “Lucy can count on me.”
“Then you were right earlier. She is lucky.” He got to his feet. “A lot luckier than I was.”
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