Chocolate Cherry Cabin

Chapter 1

Oh, no.
Nope.
There was no way Louis Bellmore was her new neighbor.
Hannah was going to toss that thought straight from her mind and keep hanging her outdoor Christmas lights and ignore the tall figure in the yard behind her. She adored the month of December, and thinking about that man would ruin her mood with fabulous efficiency.
Think about Christmas. Think about the way the holidays bring people together, highlighting their innate kindness and generosity.
Unlike Louis, who had been horrible to her in high school. Always judging, always acting as though her plan to marry her high school sweetheart wasn't enough.
Hannah yanked at her lights. They were too loose. How had Calvin always made them look so perfect?
As she struggled with the jumble of wires she caught a glimpse of her seven-year-old tearing by with his elbow out—a sure sign he was attempting another wrestling move on the inflatable snowman in the front yard.
"Thomas, cut it out! You're going to wreck poor Frosty."
"He had it coming! He's a wily, frozen-headed monster!"'
Hannah readjusted the ladder, shifting it around the corner, then did a double-take as she peeked back at Thomas, who was now running in the opposite direction.
"Tom-Tom, you better not have done that!"
There was a telling silence and Hannah groaned. She was fairly certain he'd just stuck his tongue out at Mrs. Fisher, the Longhorn Diner's waitress. She was a good woman, but very efficient in spreading gossip. The last thing Hannah needed was word getting out that, as a day care worker, she couldn't keep her own kids under control.
"What have I said about being polite?" Hannah called into the yard.
"Okay. I will."
"Apologize. Right now."
"She didn't see me."
"Do it anyway."
"Sorry, Mrs. Fisher!" he yelled.
Hannah waited to hear the woman reply, then climbed the ladder. Where had Thomas learned his wrestling moves? Surely not from his father, who was mild-mannered and on the same parenting page as she was. Other single moms might worry about the impact of their ex's lax rules and schedules, but Thomas was given the same boundaries when he was at Calvin's house, which meant no wrestling. No sticking out of tongues, either.
Maybe Thomas was picking up things from his older brother Wade? Ever since the separation a year and a half ago, and then the subsequent divorce, Wade had been more physical in expressing himself.
From the ladder, Hannah could see that Thomas had managed to wrangle the seven-foot-tall snowman into a headlock. Their golden retriever, a rescued dog that Thomas had renamed Obi-Wan Kenobi after the Star Wars character, was barking and dancing as though a stranger had entered the yard.
"What was I thinking, buying that snowman?" she muttered. Wade had been in love with the idea of snow, and he'd requested the yard decoration as well as mitts so he could pretend he lived in Alaska instead of sunny Texas. She'd quickly got on board, hoping to coax more smiles from her eldest. Instead he'd rejected it all once Thomas got excited about it.
"Obi, hush!" Hannah called. "And Thomas, cut it out. You're getting the dog excited!"
Something caught her eye as the canine continued to bark. There was a stranger, although not in their yard. The new neighbor, who'd moved in a few weeks ago, was rolling some fancy grill, which had likely cost as much as all the furniture in her living room, from his truck. She watched him go behind the fence and hedge that separated the two yards, and around to the back of his house.
This man had the same lanky build and improbably wide shoulders, but it couldn't be Louis. There was no way he'd move back home to Sweetheart Creek. Like she and Calvin, and so many of their classmates, he'd left town after high school. In fact, the last time she'd seen Louis he'd been across the street from the police station, smirking, as she'd shuffled out with her parents, shoulders hunched and completely mortified.
One day she might think the graduation prank had been funny. Her friends April and Jackie already did, but that was likely because they'd been the ones to dare her to join them and hadn't been caught. Their horses had been faster, their riding skills impressive. In their identity-masking costumes they'd ridden through the school hallways, vanishing almost as fast as they'd appeared.
Hannah less so. Once inside, her horse had balked, and she'd been so afraid of hitting her head on a door jamb that she'd been busted almost immediately.
That would have been okay, but one of the teachers had spooked her horse, which promptly kicked in the football trophy case, then left behind a stinky, steaming pile.
One of the many cowboy students had settled the horse and led it back outside with her astride, inadvertently delivering her to the waiting sheriff.
She'd earned a bit of street cred for performing the dare, and would have felt proud if Louis hadn't been there, waiting and smirking outside the police station when her parents had sprung her loose.
If it really was him next door, it would only figure that he'd return to town now, when she was working on cleaning up the implosion of her meticulously planned life. The plans he'd scoffed at.
It had over a decade, but just thinking about Louis still had the power to rile her.
It couldn't be him next door, though. Sure, her neighbor had that same tightly-packed brawn, but Louis was coaching for the NHL now. He wouldn't choose to live in a small house beside her old cabin. He had the means to buy something nicer. Much nicer.
Plus he was a man of adventure, and Sweetheart Creek was so quiet. There wasn't much more than barn dances and a cranky armadillo that chased people down Main Street when it came to entertainment.
And since it couldn't be Louis, she needed to shove aside her introverted nature and bring him a plate of her semi-famous chocolate cherry cookies. Not the burned ones, or the ones where Thomas had gone nuts with the chocolate chips, but the nice ones.
The neighbor came back through his side yard, causing Obi to bark again. His jacket was zipped up to his chin, and Hannah couldn't quite make out his features even from her perch on the ladder. But when the dog let out another bark, the man turned, and Hannah caught a very familiar blue-eyed gaze. She let out a yelp as her foot slipped on the rung, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground.
It was Louis. Louis Bellmore.
No, no, no, no. No! What had she done to deserve him as her neighbor? She was a good person. Karma should be on her side, not working against her!
She didn't dare look back his way, but with her head spinning, carefully climbed down to the safety of the dry earth. It was simply her imagination playing games with her. There was no reason for Louis to return to this small, quiet town when he was all about flash and adventure. Sure, his dad still lived here, but he could visit between coaching games for the San Antonio Dragons, based a little more than an hour away.
Maybe he'd bought the house to rent it out, or flip it.
Yes, that must be what he was doing. It would all be okay.
He was just spending a lot of time here working on it and moving stuff into it because...
Hannah sighed, unable to deny the truth any longer.
Louis Bellmore, her former nemesis, was her neighbor, and nearly falling off the ladder had likely given him something to laugh about.
* * *
Louis smiled and began heading toward Hannah Murphy's yard. Finally a chance to meet. He'd seen her peeking through the crack in her curtains when the moving truck arrived with his stuff a few weeks ago. She'd done a good job of avoiding bumping into him, always in a rush to or from her car.
Truthfully, he'd been avoiding her, too. Sure, he was busy coaching and trying to resuscitate a poorly ranked hockey team, and could use that as an excuse. It was more than that, though. If he didn't see her, he could pretend she'd gotten over whatever it was that had set her off all those years ago. He could imagine a chance to make a new first impression with her and even picture them becoming friends.
He came around the edge of the white fence that separated the two properties, counting his blessings with his job, his new house in the town he considered home, being closer to his dad, who lived only a few blocks away—and Hannah.
Be polite. Be nice, he reminded himself. Don't share your thoughts on her life unless nagged to. And even then, try to avoid opening your mouth.
His straight-down-the-pipe opinions worked in the national hockey league, but they weren't as well received by women—and especially Hannah.
Her dog was barking, but stayed at a distance as Louis approached Hannah and her ladder. Then, as if it couldn't help itself, it started wagging its tail and came closer.
"Hannah Murphy?" Louis said.
He could tell she'd heard him by the way her body stiffened, but she acted like she was too focused on untangling her lights to have heard him. He sighed inwardly. She still held a grudge. It looked as though this was where his good luck, second chances, karma and all that good energy that had brought him home again ran out.
He stopped beside her.
"Hey, Louis. How's it going?" she said casually—too casually. She glanced over at his house and swallowed hard.
"Uh, good. And you?"
"Good," she said evenly. "Really good."
He had a feeling she'd lie through her teeth about how good things were due to how hard he'd been on her during high school. But what had he expected? She'd had every bone in the human body memorized long before he'd ever met her in the tenth grade. Then she'd given it all up for that doofus Calvin Kendrick. Louis had noticed the guy zip up in a fancy car the other night, then take off with two young boys. Her sons, he guessed, and Calvin the father. But were they divorced? It looked that way. Plus, she hadn't corrected him when he'd called her by her maiden name. And she definitely would have corrected him if she was still married.
"Are you...?" Hannah gestured vaguely in the direction of Louis's new place.
"Am I your neighbor? Yeah." He crossed his arms, watching her reaction, realizing he was echoing her body language. The familiar old standoff. Defensive mechanisms engaged.
Louis sighed. He'd stupidly thought this would be so much easier, due to the passing of time. Just walk in, smile, show her he wasn't actually that bad of a human being, and convince her to be friends.
Then at some point she'd realize he was actually kind of handsome and nice to have around, and within a few years—or months—they'd be married.
In reality, he seemed to still be firmly inked in on her enemies list.
"Well then, welcome to the neighborhood," she said with that Texas drawl that tickled his insides. It left him feeling warm even when she was miffed at him.
She gave what might have passed as a friendly smile among T. rexes, and turned to deal with her dangling lights.
Her dog, who had been creeping closer and closer, was finally leaning against Louis's shin, and he bent to give him a vigorous ear rub. The animal grinned up at him, pink tongue lolling to the side, but then its ears perked up and it zipped off around the corner of the house.
Louis figured he should probably go. Hannah's welcome was about as awesome-feeling as the moment she'd pulled his name out of Mr. Chen's hat in biology class and locked herself in as his secret Santa. He'd known she had his name the moment she'd sagged in her seat, eyes closing.
She'd got him something good, though. Thoughtful. A pocket knife even nicer than the cheap T-shirt she'd bought for Calvin, her boyfriend. Louis had never been able to acknowledge the gift, though. She hadn't fessed up to it, and he'd pretended he thought it was from one of his admirers.
Not wanting to head back to his house and cement in this awkward moment as the basis for their future relationship, as Hannah climbed the ladder, Louis fed her the string of lights so she could attach them to the eaves.
"How long have you been back in town?" he asked, wincing at her handiwork. The strand hung unevenly, and she hadn't put the ladder in the right spot. She was having to reach farther out than was safe. He untangled a few knots while she worked above, doing his best to brace the wobbling ladder at the same time.
"A year," she muttered.
"How's Sweetheart Creek? Has it changed much? I noticed there's an armadillo on the welcome sign now."
"Yeah," she said, after a moment of silence. "That's Bill. Best to avoid him."
Kind of like his hockey team's PR squad, headed by Nuvella. Best to avoid her when possible.
"Other than that," Hannah was saying, "it's the same. Changed, but the same."
"Kind of sums up life, right?" Louis said, squinting up at her.
He'd lived in the small town only a few years, but it had felt more like home than where he'd grown up in Colorado. He'd left hockey behind when he'd moved here as a teen, but the game had now brought him back, like the completion of a circle.
He'd been bitter moving away from the life he'd known, away from hockey, but attention from the local girls had been a salve to his teen ego. Moving to town as an athletic sixteen-year-old had been like walking into a tiger's den, as fresh meat.
Louis had thought he would play the field, but then he'd met Hannah. Smart, quiet, kind. With big dreams for medical school. The longer she'd dated Calvin, the more that dream had seemed to fade, until all she talked about was marriage.
Louis hated that he'd called her complaisant. That he'd made it crystal clear to her that he believed she did things to please others and not herself. He'd hated it even more that she'd known the difference between complacent and complaisant, and that she'd known exactly what he'd been calling her in that moment. The word had hit her like an insult, taking her down a peg.
It still made him itch with discomfort.
But Calvin? Come on. She could have done so much better.
* * *
One thing that hadn't changed about Louis was his looks. He was still handsome. More mature and manly, of course, but still good-looking enough to set her heart aflutter. She'd felt it the first time she'd met him, despite having just started dating Calvin. Because, really? Whose wouldn't flutter? Louis was tall, hunky and smart. He had some Blackfoot or Ojibwe roots that had gifted him with glorious black hair and a strong nose that most men would be proud to have grace their silhouette.
The girls in her class had gone nuts over him. He'd been new and different, with adventures from the outside world. Louis would mysteriously vanish at lunchtime, never saying where he'd gone, just giving this slightly haunted half smile when anyone asked. He was instantly cool.
Initially, Hannah had thought he was a nice guy, but the moment he'd seen Calvin slide his arm possessively around her shoulders, he'd turned opinionated. He hadn't seen that she was secure about her life and dreams, but had accused her of doing everything to please others.
What would a guy like him know, anyway? He thrived on chaos and on frustrating people, which was so completely not what she was about. Anger burned through Hannah, igniting old memories and wounds.
With Louis feeding her the lights it had taken mere moments to attach the next length to the eaves. Having reached out as far as she could, she had to scamper down to shift the ladder.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, Louis was there, nudging her aside. "Let me," he murmured, then moved the ladder over several feet.
"I can do it," she argued, her attempts to elbow him out of the way failing. He had climbed up in a flash and was already reaching along the eaves, attaching the lights, his jacket rising above his belt, revealing what appeared to be a bronzed midriff.
"Why are you tanned?" she blurted. "It's December."
"Doesn't make me popular, but it's something I do every year." Seeing her confused look, he added, "Morocco. I go over there to do volunteer work."
"Without your shirt on?"
He chuckled. "There are beaches. Plus it gets pretty hot."
Why was her breath sticking in her lungs? He wasn't her type. She needed a man who was content to curl up and watch movies through the winter nights, not go spend time helping people.
Obviously, her priorities were way off when it came to men, because his life sounded kind of fabulous.
Too bad he was such a judgmental jerk.
Not that they'd ever date. He would never be the type a single mom could count on. Plus there was the whole thing where the first one to fall asleep would be murdered by the other. Hannah had loathed being his partner in chemistry, even though it had been outright freeing how she could banter and make digs at him, no holds barred. She could insult him and he'd grin, somehow loving her moxie. How he'd never taken it personally was a skill she'd love to learn.
"What have you been up to?" he asked, as he angled himself to climb down.
Not anything as cool as volunteering in foreign countries.
"I can do the lights," she said politely, steadying the ladder as he descended.
"You still with Calvin?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the eaves above.
Hannah sighed loudly and climbed the ladder as soon as he'd moved it. "Why? Are you looking to butt heads with him for old times' sake?" She glared down at Louis, hating the way he'd made her doubt her decisions as a teen. Hating the way he'd been right to do so.
He smirked, a familiar expression that would surely grow when he learned that her marriage—just as he'd predicted—hadn't lasted.
Sweetheart Creek was small, and she knew he'd have the answer soon enough if he didn't already. He was probably asking only so he could deliver an I-told-you-so.
"I'm not," Hannah admitted, coming down to move the ladder once again. Why did it still hurt to admit that her marriage had failed?
Louis's calculating blue eyes met hers, and she lashed out before he could say anything, asking, "And are you still with any girl who'll smile at you?"
The way his lips danced with amusement while he looked at her in that direct way of his stole her breath. There was something about him that challenged her, made her feel alive, unhinged and...irritated. Very, very irritated.
Having him next door was not going to be good for the inner peace she had been trying to cultivate since Calvin had informed her he didn't actually love her any longer.
She started to shift the ladder, but Louis was holding it in place, still watching her with amusement.
"How's that fast lifestyle working for you?" She jerked it from his grip. "Got anyone pregnant?"
"No, not yet. How's your quiet life?"
"I like my life." She snatched the string of lights and stormed up the rungs.
"I'm sure you do," he replied mildly. "Dr. Murphy?"
His tone was innocent, but something inside Hannah snapped. He'd been there when her dream of becoming a doctor had cruised right into a brick wall—or rather, flopped into his arms in a dead faint. He knew darn well why she hadn't gone to medical school. Her friends had simply shrugged when she'd told them of her change of plans. But Louis? He'd made it all about Calvin, like her boyfriend had something to do with the fact that she fainted at the sight of blood.
"I have the important things, and it's rewarding." A plastic clip for the lights broke, and went flying into the dry grass below. Wordlessly, Louis reached into the sack of extra clips hanging off the ladder and handed her a new one.
"So is volunteering. You should try it."
"It's called my current job," she muttered, thinking of how Tonya had managed to snag more hours at Colts and Fillies than she had over the holiday season. The day care would be closed for a few days over Christmas, the hours already reduced as more parents took time off work, but not getting even half her share of hours had hurt.
"You volunteer? Where?"
"I was kidding. But I do volunteer at the boys' school when—"
"Mom!"
The panic in Thomas's voice made Hannah clutch the ladder and snap her head in his direction. "What's wrong?"
He was holding his pale blue mittens under his bleeding nose. His gushing nose.
Lots of blood. And oh so red...
Her head grew light, just as it had in biology class when she was seventeen. Hannah clung to the ladder, trying to steady herself as she stumbled down the rungs.
"You're okay, Thomas," she said, trying to soothe him as her vision began to narrow, like headlights dimming on a dark winter's night as the car battery began to die.
Not here. Not now. Not in front of Louis. And definitely not in front of Thomas.
"I've got you," Louis said, and she let out a breath of relief. At least someone could help her boy.
Hannah jolted when Louis's large hands landed on her waist to help her descend. Once she was on the ground, he gently directed her to perch on the bottom wrung of the ladder, her head between her knees. She almost wished she'd pass out so she could skip over this humiliating moment.
"You're okay," he said calmly. His firm hand on her back was soothing, and her vision slowly returned.
Obi was barking, jumping around them.
"It's okay, doggy. Yeah, just helping Hannah," Louis said, his voice deep and calming. Man, she hated that beautiful voice. Obi-Wan pranced about, his tail whacking her in the leg, his nose nudging her.
"It's okay, Obi," she said. "You're okay, too, Thomas," she called. "Just keep holding your mitten to your nose. It'll stop soon. And go inside. Wade will help you, and I'll come in, too."
"Hey, buddy, you got a tissue?" Louis asked Thomas.
"Mom! I'm going to bleed to death!" Her son's voice was edged with hysteria and the dog left her side. She heard Thomas hit the ground, crying, "No, Obi-Wan Kenobi! No!"
"He senses a disturbance in the force," Louis said, amusement in his tone at the dog's name.
He'd made a Star Wars reference. Thomas was going to love him. It only figured that her boys would be traitors in this scenario. Louis had that effect on everyone. Everyone but her.
"He's using his Jedi skills to protect you," Louis said.
"I don't want him to!" Thomas yelled.
Hannah scrambled to help him, but the world swirled again when Louis's warm hand vanished from her back.
Why couldn't Thomas have his first real nosebleed on Calvin's watch? Or at school? Somewhere other than here and now?
She forced herself to stand upright so she could take charge. Her vision was gray, but she could get Thomas to the house, pretend she was fine, then take it moment by moment. And not faint. Definitely not faint.
She took a few steps toward him, the tunnel vision returning when she caught sight of his ruined mittens. She bent over.
"Frosty punched me! He punched me and now I'm bleeding. I have to go to the hospital. Mom! Mom!"
"Let's get inside," Louis said in a soothing command. "Keep your mitten against your nose. It'll all be okay. It's just a blood vessel that broke and it'll fix itself in seconds. These things are normal."
"But I'm bleeding!"
"Does it hurt?" Louis asked.
There was a pause.
Hannah kept her head down, groping her way toward the house, trying to act natural.
"No," Thomas said with a hint of curiosity.
She needed to get over fainting at the sight of blood. It had completely derailed her life once, and was making it impossible to parent her own child when he needed her now.
Her vision fogged as she tried to navigate the steps to the door. Louis hooked his arm under hers, offering support when she wobbled.
It's just a nosebleed. Everything's okay.
The fog grew worse.
I can handle this. It was nothing! Thomas is fine.
She straightened her spine, determined to shut off this stupid physical reaction, but her vision went dangerously black. Louis practically lifted her up the steps as he said to Thomas, "Boots off. Then find some tissue in the bathroom."
Louis settled her on the bench at the door. But before he followed her son to the bathroom, he remarked, "So you're a mom?"
"Yes."
"And you never did become a doctor, huh?"
* * *
In the kitchen, Hannah gave herself a pep talk, hoping to get rid of that icky feeling in her gut. She hadn't passed out in front of Louis. That was a win.
She could hear him laughing at fart jokes with Thomas in the bathroom, drawing the attention of nine-year-old Wade, who'd been building LEGO in his room. Soon the three of them were cackling together. Apparently males never outgrew their delight with bodily noises.
Listening to their laughter shouldn't warm her heart, especially since Mr. Judgment was not only delighting her sons, but had also just saved the day. He was the last person she ever wanted to owe a thing to.
But she was a mom—a single one at that—and seeing her sons bond with an adult male was like an aphrodisiac. Anyone who could make her boys laugh, and who could turn the tide on an upcoming freak-out, earned a little heart thawing.
Even Louis Bellmore.
There was a thump as small feet hit the bathroom floor, followed by a "There you go, buddy."
Moments later Thomas came ripping around the corner, his socks nearly sliding out from under him on the laminate flooring, his straight brown hair flopping to the side. The dog chased after him with a happy grin.
"Mom! Louis put a cold cloth on the back of my neck and pinched my nose and the nosebleed stopped! Did you know it was just broken blood inside me—"
"A broken blood vessel?" she asked.
"Yeah! And my body is already fixing it."
Hannah smiled, remembering that same feeling of excitement and awe when she'd discovered the curious and very mysterious functioning of the human body around his age.
"It's pretty cool, isn't it, sweetie?"
Both boys had entered the kitchen, their eyes shining at having an unexpected visitor filled with interesting facts, who liked to laugh at the same things they did.
Had it been so long since she and Calvin had laughed together that Louis felt like a marvel?
The sound of the washing machine door closing in the hallway outside the bedrooms was followed by the rush of water. Louis was washing everything that had been soiled so she wouldn't even have to see it.
Another chunk fell off the thawing iceberg in her heart. If Louis wasn't careful he might meet Ms. Sweet-and-Quiet, Gushing-Over-You Hannah, and she had a feeling he preferred her tougher let's-duke-it-out side. Plus she'd never forgive herself if she went sweet around him.
"Louis knows fart and diarrhea jokes!" Thomas bounded over to the pantry door and flung it open. "Can I have the new cereal?"
"Sure."
"Really?"
Wade stared at her as if she'd said yes to giving his little brother a Porsche.
Thomas eyed the clock on the stove's console. He knew it was getting close to suppertime. But honestly? Whatever. Hannah felt gross, her body still working through its own fight or flight—or play dead—chemical reaction to the nosebleed, and she didn't have it in her to argue nutrition with her son at the moment.
"Just this once," she warned.
"Best mom ever!" he yelled, hustling to dish himself a snack. Wade rolled his eyes and left the room.
Something cold hit the back of Hannah's neck and she flinched. Louis. She hadn't noticed him approach with a wet facecloth, which he placed on the nape of her neck. Obi nuzzled his soft nose between them, tail wagging.
"Do you have any hard candy?" Louis asked. He was standing close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.
"I have candy! Mom says I can have one piece a day. Can I have one now, Mom?"
"No."
"Your blood sugar likely plummeted," Louis said to her quietly. He was adjusting the cloth, and she wasn't sure if she liked the attention or not. She and Calvin had evolved into "just friends" during their marriage, and it had been a long time since a man had touched her. Not that Louis was crossing lines, but him being close, smelling like the crisp December air, had nudged her into thinking about lines and what it would take to cross one.
She shifted so she was the one holding the cloth.
"Can your mom have one of your candies?" Louis asked Thomas.
"She likes red. Do you want one, too? I have pink, red, blue and green. I ate the yellows and oranges. They're my favorite." Thomas had his bag of candy out, demonstrating his pure, generous spirit.
Louis unwrapped a red one for her. "This'll get you feeling steadier."
"What are you, a doctor?" she asked, a tremor sneaking into her words. He handed her the candy and she popped it in her mouth. It was so sweet it made her cheeks hurt as her salivary glands kicked in.
"Paramedic."
The usual sting of envy hit her in the chest at the medical career choice. "You weren't even that good in biology."
He laughed at her grumbling, which made her feel even more sulky.
"I worked in some remote areas for oil companies after high school. Here in Texas, the UK, Canada, Australia, Saudi Arabia, Holland. You get bored, you move around a lot." He gave her a smile that looked like it was supposed to reassure her of something. It didn't. It reminded her once again that he was still the same old guy he used to be. Never happy staying still. "I gave it up after a few years. You only need to see one major oil and gas disaster before you want out." He shrugged. "Now I fly planes and coach hockey."
Not just any hockey. NHL. The real deal.
The man had already lived more adventures in his thirty-one years than she likely ever would.
Hannah briefly teased herself, imagining what that life might feel like. Exhausting, no doubt. But interesting, for sure.
"You're still pale," he said. "How are your iron levels?"
"I'm fine." She took a deep inhalation, getting a lungful of his aftershave and outdoorsy scent. Man, he smelled good.
"Pregnant?" he whispered.
She let out a bark of laughter, so abrupt it hurt. He knew exactly why she'd almost fainted, and yet here he was, poking and prodding at her and the one unsolvable weakness that had changed her entire life.
Louis gave her shoulder a squeeze in support. She hated it. She loved it. Even though she was still wearing her lightweight puffy jacket she could feel the heat from him as if it had found a tunnel through the lining.
She caught his gaze and realized that even though he'd never said a thing back then, he knew. He understood what had happened on that fateful day in biology class, and why her plans had suddenly zeroed in on marrying Calvin rather than a medical career. One moment with a scalpel had changed her entire future. One thin cut into the amphibian victim and she'd fainted like a maiden whose corset had been done up too tight on a hot day.
April MacFarlane had been freaking out when Hannah regained consciousness, cradled in Louis's arms. Yes, he'd caught her, even though his station had been several over from hers. Because if you're going to humiliate yourself, you might as well go big, right?
She'd immediately started to cry and the teacher had ushered her out of class, assuming she was having some sort of breakdown—which was true. But it had been more than empathy for their dissection victims. She'd known her dream of medical school was over. Through the years her tolerance for wounds of any kind had been slipping. And on that day, in Louis's arms, she realized she was never going to become a doctor, because medical professionals didn't faint when faced with the dissection of a frog. They didn't become light-headed at the sight of blood, like she did. They waded through it all and saved lives without flinching, elbows deep in—
Oh, stop thinking about that!
Hannah had spent the next several months trying anything and everything, from hypnotism and self-talk to watching her hydration and blood sugar levels, to trying the Applied Tension Technique, as well as exposing herself to slasher movies with fake blood squirting everywhere—all in an attempt to alter her fight-or-flight reaction and save her dream career.
Nothing had worked. Eventually she'd had no choice but to throw in the towel, tip up her chin, block out the pain and focus on what she had: Calvin. She'd stopped talking about medical school, and when anyone asked about it she casually said she'd decided she'd rather start a family than spend the next decade in school.
She thought they'd see right through her. But everyone had agreed, saying how much better it would be to avoid that kind of pressure and expense.
Everyone except Louis. And she'd hated him for it.
* * *
"So you're a pilot?" Hannah asked.
She wouldn't look at him, and was wiping down the kitchen counter even though it didn't need it. The small, cozy house smelled like baking. It was the Hopewells' cabin, one of the older buildings in town, but it had been modernized and was sunny. It felt like a home filled with love.
"Cool!" Thomas exclaimed, looking up from the bowl of cereal he'd been inhaling. "Do you battle starfighters?"
"No," Louis said, not bothering to fight a smile. There was something about the kid's enthusiasm that reminded him of Hannah in high school. Well, before she'd decided to settle for marriage instead of a career. "I mostly just take myself out for jaunts. I used to take tourists for rides, though. But no shooting. No leaving the solar system."
Thomas gave a fake pout. "That sucks."
"Hey," Hannah scolded, giving him a patent mom look that for some crazy reason made Louis feel homesick.
"Nobody ever does anything cool."
"Hey!" Louis protested with a laugh.
Thomas swiped at his milk mustache from drinking the last liquid in his cereal bowl. He bounded up to Louis. "Want to see my Star Wars LEGO collection?"
"Put your bowl in the dishwasher, please," Hannah said. "And maybe later. I'm sure Louis has more unpacking to do. Moving is a big job, remember?"
She was looking better now and had more color in her cheeks. She hadn't taken off her jacket, and Louis wondered if she didn't want him to settle in and stay for a visit. Or maybe she was simply eager to get back to hanging her lights.
"We moved here last year," Thomas informed him. "Mom and Dad each got their own house. I have two bedrooms!"
"Wow."
Louis glanced at Hannah, who was rinsing out the cloth. He guessed that she'd put a lot into being a mom and wife, and had to be feeling devastated and a bit lost now.
"Time to go play, Thomas."
The boy slipped from the room and moments later Hannah put a hand on Louis's arm. He glanced at it, unsure what was about to happen. Surely not a kiss. A grateful, you are so wonderful for dealing with my son, his nose, the laundry...
No, she was guiding him out of the kitchen and toward the front door.
"Thank you for your help."
Louis spotted the upright piano in her living room as they passed. He stopped, not wanting to leave. "You still play?"
"Yes."
There was a bottle of wood polish and a rag sitting on top, waiting for her. A half-finished job. Just like the Christmas lights still dangling from her eaves.
He wanted to tell her how she'd inspired him to give music a try after watching her play the piano for kids at the Sweetheart Creek Christmas concert years ago. How he made his own music now, some of which he shared with his hockey players to help soothe their pregame jitters.
"Do you experience low blood pressure?" he asked.
"You can't fix me," she retorted, her voice edged with annoyance. "I am the way I am, and I'm happy that way."
But she wasn't. He could see the tiredness in her eyes. The sadness. She needed to breathe, have an adventure, do something big for herself.
That wasn't a battle he'd win today, though. He could tell she was gearing up to deflect whatever he said next.
He wanted to tell her that he knew why she hadn't gone to med school. That the way he'd pestered her was about claiming something for herself. Filling her own cup instead of waiting for someone else to notice it needed topping up.
Her hands had gone to her hips, so he sighed and headed to the door before she could shove him out. When he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed she'd backtracked to the kitchen. Louis slipped on his boots, marveling at how small her sons' footwear seemed, sitting beside his.
Hannah reappeared a moment later with a plastic container. "I have something for you."
"For me?"
She shoved it at him, her shoulders drooping as though being nice to him might kill her.
"You look like you want to hook me to an anchor and drop me in the ocean," he said.
"Not a bad idea," she replied lightly, reaching for the doorknob.
He lifted the lid, inspecting the contents. Cookies. Chocolate with something red. They smelled sweet and delicious. And they were in a container she'd want back, not a plastic bag. He had an excuse to see her again.
He grinned. "Thanks. I love cookies."
"Chocolate cherry."
"I really appreciate it."
"They're just cookies." Her cheeks had turned pink.
"We made them," Thomas said, reappearing in a rush. Across the room Wade was leaning in a doorway, watching.
"It's Mom's special recipe," Thomas added.
"It's just a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift," she said quickly.
"Ah." He met her eyes. "So just being neighborly?"
"It's a...thank-you, too." She swallowed.
He lowered his voice so the boys couldn't hear. "Do I need to worry about poison?"
She gave him a dry look.
As he edged to the door, he asked, "So if you didn't become a doctor, what did you become?"
Was there more to her story than working in the day care and helping out at the boys' school?
"I'm me. Like always." She gave a tight smile and said, "Congrats on your new job."
The door shut briskly behind him and he had a feeling it had taken all of her inner strength not to let it slam.