The Bluebird Bet

Robert responded eloquently without saying a word. There was a threat in his eyes. Dean had better be on his best behavior.

Elaine had to fight the smile that came with the shot of pleasure that someone was looking out for her. Dean raised his hands in surrender, and Robert disappeared inside.

“I’m not sure you’ll have as much privacy as you want, but feel free to say whatever it is that’s bothering you, Mr. Collins.” She adjusted her purse strap and studied the view carefully. This would be no harder than talking to any other upset family member. Doctors spent a lot of time delivering bad news and listening to complaints.

Dean checked inside the shadowed foyer. “You could be right. Two things.” He held up two fingers, probably so he wouldn’t lose his spot in the conversation.

At the unkind thought, Elaine knew she had to take her competitiveness down a notch. There was no need to get nasty. Ever.

Even if she knew how to.

“Call me Dean. Call him Robert. Otherwise, this whole thing is going to get weird,” Dean said as he eased into a creaky rocking chair and motioned her to the other one.

She studied the peeling paint before she sat. “Fine. And?”

“Tell me why this means so much to you.”

She tilted her head, hoping he could read what she thought about his tone.

“Fine. Please. I want to understand.” He eased the rocking chair into motion, and the rhythmic creak combined with the cool shade and the stillness of the lake made it easy to answer his question, if only to sit there a few minutes longer.

“The last time I visited, I was twelve. Like most twelve-year-old girls, I wished things were different. My mother wanted me to wear my hair down and try makeup, and my dad wanted me to keep my mother happy while he did his own thing. But Mom loved this place, and she loved drinking tea on this porch. And your mother was so kind that we all somehow got along when we were here.” Elaine started rocking back and forth, too, her creaks a perfect counterpoint to his. “Then my parents divorced. Loudly. We never came back to the Bluebird or Tall Pines.”

Dean contemplated the shoreline. “So it’s got some good memories. I can understand that. Is that enough reason to spend this much time and money? Maybe the money doesn’t matter to someone like you. Couldn’t you make nice memories somewhere else?”

“Couldn’t you?” Elaine asked. “No, of course not. They’re memories, Dean. Nothing is the same now. My father is happily remarried with a nice wife and a new family. And my mother is...well, she’s not as settled. These are the memories I want to keep.”

“At the expense of mine?” He didn’t look at her, and it was a good thing.

This was the troublesome point—the idea that she would cause Robert any pain by getting what she wanted. If Dean and Robert were strangers, she’d get the Bluebird. There was no question in her mind. This concern for Robert hampered her efforts.

Now that she knew his father had kept his health problems a secret, she was more forgiving of Dean’s time away. Exciting careers could take over a life easily. Being a doctor didn’t often involve the risks he took, but the adrenaline rush could be intense.

“It seems you’ve done fine through the years with the memories alone. Why is now any different?” Maybe she couldn’t go for the kill. That didn’t mean she had to give in.

“It just is. Now is different. I’m different. And it matters.” Dean stood and waited for her to get the picture that this conversation was over.

“Are you sure you can abide by this competition?” Elaine asked as she slowly walked down the steps toward her car. “Tell me here and now, before I pack my bags and drive down that road again. I’ll back down before I cause your father any pain.”

“But it will kill you to throw in the towel before anyone rings the bell.” Dean glanced toward the foyer and nodded. “Yes, to prove to my father that I have what it takes, including the commitment to stick this out, I will agree to the bet and the rules, but I intend to win.”

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_666a2d6f-70d3-579b-96af-037d8a7e7293)

DEAN STEPPED INSIDE and shut the door, snapping Elaine out of her reverie. “Rude,” she muttered and got into her car.

She made her way to the highway. In the middle of making a mental list of the things she’d have to pack, her phone rang, and she hit the hands-free button to talk. “Hi, Mom.” She didn’t even have to look. It had to be her mother.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while, so I thought I’d make sure you’re okay.”

A while meaning approximately two hours. Checking to make sure she was okay was more about her mother not being okay. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Oh, not much. I started thinking about the reception we had and how you and Jerry argued about the proper way to serve red wine. Remember, he was certain it had to be warm, and you said to chill the wine and warm it in the hand? What an impression you must have made on your new stepfather. I thought that was the craziest thing to argue about.” Her voice broke on the last word. “You’re so much like your father sometimes. So smart. Even when you were a little girl, I’d listen to the two of you talk and just...marvel.”

Elaine couldn’t recall the wine conversation. She and her mother’s last husband, Jerry, had often agreed to disagree, but she’d never intended to cause friction in any of her mother’s marriages.

Being compared to her father didn’t surprise her at all.

Elaine could remember the days when she’d hoped to be exactly like her father.

Now she was afraid that her wish had come true. He lived to work. Most days, she did, too.

“Mom, are you drinking wine by any chance?” Elaine parked in front of a small line of apartments. She’d lived here since she’d come to Tall Pines to satisfy the terms of the scholarship that had helped her get through medical school debt free.

“Yes.”

The hiccup made Elaine smile as she switched the call to her phone. She unlocked the door and asked, “How much?”

“It’s my...second glass.” Her mother’s answer was a relief. Maybe she was too emotional, but she’d never been a big drinker. Elaine could picture her mother perched on the end of her expensive couch, not a single hair of her carefully highlighted bob out of order. Even tipsy, she’d be well behaved and beautiful.

Sometimes Elaine wondered if she was the only person who saw the emotional, messy, ragged side of Catherine Stillman. She was the model hostess with lovely manners, but inside, her mother still seemed to be searching for something.

Elaine, on the other hand, always looked a bit frazzled. Her sundress was wrinkled after less than three hours, and the curls escaping her careful updo were driving her crazy. Scrubs and a ponytail fit her better.

And if she was searching for anything, it was the way things used to be.

“You know you’re going to be happy again, right? Have you thought about taking a class like we talked about?” Elaine pulled a bag out of her closet and started shoving clothes inside.

While she packed, she thought about all the activities her mother should consider instead of focusing on how she didn’t have a husband anymore. A part-time job, a class at the community college, a new hobby or a trip to someplace she’d always dreamed of. They were all reasonable, fun options. If Elaine’s schedule ever cleared up, she might give something on the list a try herself. As always, her mother had one answer. “I don’t want to do that by myself.”

“Mom, do you remember the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast? The inn we used to visit here in Tall Pines?” Elaine crossed her fingers and hoped this didn’t lead to a meltdown.

“Sure, that pretty old farmhouse on the lake. Had the tastiest sugar cookies as I recall.” Her mother paused as she sipped her wine. “Your father fished, and we ruled the world from that shady porch. Those were nice times. Before your father ruined it all.”

Elaine took a deep breath. This was the tricky part. Any time her father came up in conversation, things could get out of control fast. “Yeah, so the owner is a patient. I took a trip out there today because he’s considering selling.”

“But you’re a doctor. What would you do with an inn? The last thing you need is another job. No, you should spend fewer hours working.” Her mother left off the advice to get married, have kids, probably because she didn’t want an argument, either.

“Maybe we could reopen it. Together. What would you think about that?” She held her breath while she waited for the answer.

“I’m not sure, Elaine. I mean, the memories...”

Her mother hadn’t said no. That was a new development. “It could be fun, but it may not work out anyway, so you’ve got time to consider it.”

“I will. I promise,” her mother said quietly. “Thanks for talking, Elaine. I swear, no more men. Ever. This time is different.”

Right. Elaine was sure she’d heard that the last time, too. And with the boyfriends in between, one of whom had been so steady and good for her mother she’d mourned him like...well, her own father. Her father wasn’t dead. He was just gone, content with his new wife and two sons.

Neither of whom were doctors.