when he came in. Her eyes had widened and she’d looked back at her work. She’d set up a business while she was gone, building websites and creating social media platforms for clients. Maybe that work was difficult to do in her house with Owen sawing and hammering to repair the widespread damage her termites had caused both outside and within the house.
“I’ve distributed some information.” Noah held up a stack of pages. “As many of you know, I’ve been talking to the town council about building a clinic here in Bliss. I’ve ordered a financial study to anticipate costs versus profits. I’ve suggested several properties that might be appropriate. The council is not amenable so far, so I’ve come to you, neighbors and friends, residents who live here full time.”
“Would the town own the clinic?” a man in the back asked. He had a farm down the narrow dirt road from the inn.
“If the town provides funding, yes. I haven’t been able to interest a hospital in building here because of the council’s reluctance, but we need more medical care. I can give you an X-ray and draw your blood, but I have to send tests to a lab in Knoxville or Asheville. I don’t have the equipment here to complete the kind of work my patients often need.”
“You already have an office.” Maeve, who owned the local pharmacy, cut in. “How would you run the clinic as well?”
“I’ve included funding estimates for staffing. I’d take shifts in the clinic, but it wouldn’t be my office.”
“Why is the council against it?”
That soft voice came from the entry to the room, a voice from dreams he’d tried to stop dreaming.
He let no emotion cross his face. He must be good at that—she hadn’t seen how she’d affected him at her house. Despite his inconvenient continued attraction to her, he wasn’t going to let her drag him into the past.
He nodded at her, but then spoke to the room at large. She knew her father was in the mix of the council and opposed the clinic. “A variety of reasons. The first is that it doesn’t suit the council’s idea of the covenants set up when Bliss began to cater to skiing and tourism. A clinic is not high-end shopping. It’s not a picturesque eatery or a B&B that looks like a country estate. It doesn’t bring in the money that new business is required to furnish in this town.”
“Would it pay for itself, though?” the farmer at the back asked.
“Barely,” Noah said, “at least as far as we’ve done the estimation. “But we need an expert who can inform us about any possible tax burden. We’ll set up funding and build a trust from donations that will be as strict as any town covenant dreamed of being.”
“What do you want us to do?”
Noah glanced at Emma, whose troubled gaze rested on a face in the crowd. It was Megan, her stepmother, perched on a metal chair near the exit door. Megan, who appeared equally troubled, looked back at Emma. Some things hadn’t changed. Emma must have conditions for Megan to meet before she could accept her.
He’d been there.
He got back to work. “I’d like to set up a committee. Someone to search for a property the council can’t reject. Someone who has experience or an interest in fundraising. Someone who’s done PR.”
Some of the attendees stirred. Not Emma. He hated being so aware of her. Couples in the crowd spoke to each other. No one volunteered.
“Look.” He took off his jacket and dropped it over the back of his chair at the table beside the podium. “You all know me. I come from a family where violence and anger flourished, but care was—care was almost nonexistent. Maybe that’s why I’m a doctor. I want to take care of people. I believe that we can arrange for every family in this little town to have more immediate care. They deserve it.”
He tugged at his tie.
“If you have a skill you think would benefit the clinic, see me, call me, email or text. I need your help. We all need your help.”
Except Emma, he was thinking as he glanced back at the two Candler women. Megan was already slipping beneath the red letters of the exit sign, but Emma remained, one brow raised as if she were puzzled that Megan had left without speaking.
Just then a number of people rose from their seats and surged to meet him at the podium and volunteer their services. Startled, he took names and numbers and business cards and promises. By the time the last volunteer took her leave, he had a meeting set for the following week to assess their position.
Noah packed everything into his laptop case and cleared paper coffee cups and forgotten notes and his flyers from the tables and floor and gothic window ledges. He straightened chairs and took one last look before he turned off the light and walked out of the room. He tried not to look for Emma, but he failed.
He waited a moment too long to look away, for she lifted her gaze and pulled out her earbuds.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to help,” she said.
He’d never lied to Emma before, but he didn’t want her close. Sure, he’d dated other women in the time she’d been gone. Nurses where he’d done his residency. Skiers, who had no reason to stay in Bliss after their vacations. But Emma still affected him.
“I thought you’d probably rather not be on a committee with me. Besides, you won’t be here long.”
“I can set up a website, social media.” She glanced at her screen. “It all helps get your word out. Someone else can run it after I leave.”
“I’ll find someone to work with you if you’re willing?”
“I am,” she said and picked up her earbuds.
“Not getting along with Megan?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t, wishing she’d been quicker with her music.
“I don’t know her. It feels strange. She’s married to my father. They have this whole life I don’t know about. I don’t even know if I’m welcome.”
“She looks like she’s feeling the same. She’s nice, Emma. She didn’t move to town with an attitude, and she loves your dad. She wants him to be happy, which means she’ll welcome you into their new life.”
Emma’s natural response four years ago was a smile. He didn’t even realize he was waiting to see the sweet, open curve of her mouth until it didn’t come.
“I thought you weren’t looking after anyone except yourself these days.”
“You want to get along if we pass on the street, but you won’t try to be friends,” he said. “Good to know where we really stand.”
“Wait.” She stood, glancing around, but no one left in the library seemed interested in them. “I’m sorry. I do want to be friends, but I’m not sure how we manage that.”
“Neither am I,” he admitted, clamping down on his compulsion to take her hands in his and ease her fingers apart. “For a start, we could trust each other. I know you’re leaving. You know I’m staying. We both know our relationship ended four years ago. We have no ulterior motives.”
“You were talking about my dad in there. All those reasons to turn down the clinic, they’re stodgy and shortsighted.”
“If you mean I was speaking directly to you, I wasn’t. All the council members stand by the old covenants. You know there are towns in these mountains that feature bright lights and big noise. No one wants that here. I don’t want that here, but I want facilities that keep someone like my brother from having to drive almost two hours to get help for a work injury.”
“And you’ve explained that to the council?”
“No one in your dad’s position will listen.” Noah kept in mind the need to rein in his anger. He assumed part of the council’s rejection of his plan was that it came from him, the son of a man who’d put the town in a bad light every time he staggered out of one bar and