A Man She Can Trust. Roxanne Rustand

said—”

      “The doc is nuts. I’m fine as frog hair and going stir-crazy in this place. Let me tell you, the day I decide to retire is the day you’ll have to lock me away.”

      “Dad, how long has it been since you took a vacation—really went somewhere and did something fun?”

      During the long silence they both remembered Marie Edwards’s unexpected death at fifty-five from an aneurysm. Three years ago.

      Grant had been working at a prestigious firm in Chicago, but Warren had been so devastated over the loss of his wife that Grant and Jill had come home to help him cope with his practice and his grief.

      After Warren’s subsequent heart attack, the intended few months had somehow evolved into several years…with Jill working at an established family practice in town and Grant busy at the Edwards Law Office.

      The purchase of a house had signified a commitment to stay for good.

      One more painful irony, among the many.

      “…so maybe I will.” Warren cleared his throat. “What do you think?”

      Grant shook himself out of his memories. “About what?”

      “I should call him. Haven’t been down to see him since he and your Aunt Jane built their new house. I expect we could get in a little golf.”

      Grant blinked. Uncle Fred and Aunt Jane? Florida?

      “That is, if you don’t mind staying on for a while longer.” The hopefulness in Warren’s voice faded as he added, “But I shouldn’t even ask. You’d probably rather move ahead with your own career, and with my secretary gone, the job is damned inconvenient. Doretta sure picked a bad time to retire.”

      “I’ve already planned on staying for several more months, anyway. I don’t mind working alone.” Grant smiled to himself as he recalled Dad’s confrontational relationship with his strong-minded secretary of the past thirty years. “It would do you a world of good to get away for a while. And when you get back, you can hire a nice paralegal.”

      At a tentative knock on his office door, Grant glanced at his wristwatch. Five o’clock. He’d turned the door sign to Closed when Hal left, which accounted for the knock. “I’ve got to hang up, someone’s at the door.”

      Grant dropped the phone back into its cradle and rounded the desk. Out in the waiting area, he pinned a welcoming smile on his face as he opened the front door.

      And looked down into the lovely face of the woman who’d helped destroy his life.

      JILL LINGERED IN the exam room after her last patient of the day left, dictated her progress note into a recorder then popped out the microcassette and strolled to the front office.

      Donna Iverson, her office nurse, looked up from a file drawer and grinned. “For once, you’re actually done on time. Amazing.”

      “It is—especially in the middle of flu season.” She put the cassette into an envelope and dropped it into a drawer of the receptionist’s desk. “After rounds at the hospital, I’m going home for a long, hot bath and a good book.”

      Middle-aged and motherly, Donna frowned and shook a finger at her. “You need to get out more. Have some fun. What about that nice assistant manager down at the bank? I swear, if that man isn’t interested in you, I’ll eat my stethoscope.”

      The man was a pleasant, earnest sort of guy. He’d certainly be Mr. Dependability…and just the thought made Jill stifle a yawn. “I’m not even divorced yet and, frankly, I can’t even imagine dating again. But what about you?”

      Donna gave a flustered wave of her hand after she pushed the file drawer shut. “It’s not so easy, getting back into the swing of things at my age. My brother Bob and his family are here in town, though. Grandkids. Plenty to keep me busy. But you…”

      “I’ve finally got a practice of my own. The house of my dreams. A very devoted cat.”

      “You’ve got one very weird cat, and a very big house to ramble around in. You know, my bachelor cousin Irwin lives down in Minocqua, and—”

      Laughing, Jill held up a hand. “Stop. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I really don’t want to meet anyone. Ask me again in about five years.”

      Loyal to a fault, the nurse had stood staunchly by Jill during the difficult last months of her marriage, and she still spoke Grant’s name with a sniff of distaste.

      “Well…just keep Irwin in mind. He’s great with kids. Has a good job in real estate. And,” she added triumphantly, “he’s never been married, so you wouldn’t be taking on all that extra baggage.”

      I’d just have all of my own. Jill nodded politely as she shouldered into her red wool pea coat and wrapped a long black scarf around her neck. “You should get going. All of this will be waiting for you tomorrow.”

      “Just another few minutes.” Donna’s expression grew somber. “Say hello to Patsy, won’t you? Tell her I’ll stop in tonight with some new magazines.”

      “She’ll be happy to hear that.” Jill pulled on her gloves, wishing she could offer more hope for Donna’s neighbor. “She may not be very talkative, though. We had to increase her morphine last night.”

      Patsy Halliday had been the picture of good health just three months ago at her annual physical, but last month she’d come in with severe headaches. An MRI revealed a fast-growing tumor that the surgeons couldn’t completely remove, and soon her three young children would lose their mother.

      Life was so terribly unfair.

      Jill slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and went out the back door of the clinic, lost in thought. She barely felt the cold as she started her car and waited for the defroster to melt away the haze on her windshield.

      Cases like this one kept her awake at nights; made her rethink every decision a dozen times, and made her pray for miracles when everything on the MRI report and labs told her there was little hope.

      Cases like this made her want to live every day to the fullest, because they illustrated with cruel finality just how little control you had over the future.

      Yet now she was going home to an empty, cavernous house, with only a demented cat and the whispers of old ghosts to keep her company.

      “Quite an exciting life you lead,” she muttered to herself as she pulled out of the back parking lot, waited for several cars to pass, then turned north on Main.

      The deep tire ruts in the snow grabbed at her tires as she drove slowly enough to keep ample distance between her and the car ahead.

      The single stoplight in town turned yellow at her approach and, despite her best intentions, she glanced at the Edwards Law Office on the opposite corner.

      She drew in a sharp breath.

      Dressed in khaki slacks, a blazer and a shirt open at the throat, Grant was at the open door, talking to a woman who stood with her back to the street.

      The woman rested her hand on his forearm for a moment, then stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. She turned and hurried down the steps to an all-too-familiar red, vintage Cobra parked in front.

      At the car, she turned back and waved at him, her long, too-bright auburn hair whipping in the wind.

      Jill’s heart gave an extra, hard thud. Natalie.

      The old hurt welled up inside her and she sat frozen through the green light until the car behind her honked.

      She hadn’t wanted to believe the rumors last fall. Even now, perhaps this wasn’t what it seemed. But Natalie’s advances a moment ago certainly hadn’t been rebuffed.

      Since Grant had come back to town, he and Jill had carefully tried to avoid each other, but small towns didn’t allow for a lot of space. Seeing him again had made her feel