The Bluebird Bet

Not yet anyway. There was still time, and her youngest brother did mention medical school now and then.

At least her mother’s wails had already quieted to grumbles. This seemed to indicate she was on the mend. The fact that she’d gotten there quicker than Elaine expected was a positive sign. There’d been surprisingly few bitter warnings about men or guilt trips about grandkids. Elaine was tired of hearing that all her mother’s problems would be solved if Elaine would just get married and have babies. Following her mother’s train of thought could be exhausting.

She’d had plenty of time to build up her endurance. When her father left, Elaine had picked up the pieces. Ever since, she’d hung on to the roller-coaster ride that was her mother. Relationships came and went, men were magic until they disappointed her and then Elaine was a lifeline.

She was used to the pattern by now, even if she tried to alter it.

Her mother was only three hours away, but Elaine was always working. When things were good, the distance was easy. Her mother’s happy phone conversations satisfied them both. When her mother was going through a breakup, the distance could be a relief.

“You aren’t planning to drive anywhere, are you, Mom?”

This time her mother gave a disbelieving grunt. “Do you think I’m crazy? I’m going to take a nap.”

“Sounds good. Call me tomorrow.” After her mother mumbled goodbye, Elaine tossed her phone on the couch cushion next to her purse, dropped down beside it and covered her eyes with both hands.

Taking a day off and doing anything other than laundry and napping was rare, but she was glad she’d made the trip out to see the Bluebird. If only Dean Collins wasn’t going to be such a problem. She had a small chance to beat him. Ignoring him was going to be a lot harder.

But leaving this economy apartment would be no problem. There were no pictures on the wall, and the only decoration she’d added was three small framed photos of her with her parents, all taken at award ceremonies. The furniture belonged to her landlord, Edna. Why she hadn’t done more to make the apartment feel like home was something she should consider long and hard. Some other time.

Today she was going to grab her bag, go back and move right in. She’d start leaving her stamp as soon as possible.

Men would come and go and take her mother’s sanity with them, but the Bluebird would last. Getting attached to the place that held such sweet memories only made sense.

“Hit the road, Elaine. There’ll be plenty of time to figure out the cure for your problems on that beautiful porch.”

She smiled at the idea and did her best to ignore the fact that she was talking to herself.

After one more quick trip through the closet and tiny bathroom, Elaine had enough necessities to get her through a week or so. She grabbed her bag and purse and locked up.

On her way to the Bluebird, she decided to take advantage of the rare combination of a beautiful day and free time, so she drove around the town square. Elaine was happy to see the tourists. Tall Pines was her new home, and almost everyone here depended on these visitors. Spring could be hit and miss, but now that the trees were blooming and temperatures were inching back up, shoppers wandered down the streets, bags in hand.

As a child, she’d loved every single one of these shops.

She stopped at a crosswalk and watched a boy who kept a serious stare locked on her car as he walked by, one hand grasped by his mother.

A few minutes later, as she headed down the rutted road toward the Bluebird, Elaine wondered whether reopening the inn could help draw even more tourists to her adopted hometown.

She parked next to a dilapidated Jeep that had to belong to Dean Collins. It matched his wardrobe perfectly.

She grabbed her bag and thought about honking the horn, just to let him know she was back and ready to get started. The kitchen was appalling, every room required work and the whole farmhouse needed a coat of paint, but the potential was all there.

Elaine was hit by an unexpected wave of excitement. The renovation would be expensive and a lot of hard work, but the reward, a home that connected her to some of the happiest times in her life, was worth it. She couldn’t remember wanting anything as much as she wanted this.

In only one day, she’d pinned her hopes on a long shot.

Okay, Elaine, too emotional. Take a deep breath.

She did. Then she got out of the car like a totally rational person and almost made it to the steps when she could feel someone watching her. Dean was near the dock again. Deciding that she should begin as she meant to go on, she marched down to meet him.

“I’m back.” What a terrible opening line, Dr. Obvious. “Which room should I take?”

He waved his filleting knife, and they both watched a bit of...fillet plop into the water. Dean studied her face, waiting for a reaction. She stepped closer. “Hmm, you’d never make it as a surgeon.”

Then she raised her eyebrows at him. She was a doctor. A little bit of gore had no effect on her.

“Take any guest room you want. They’re all the same. Dusty. Stuck in the past.”

She nodded. “Okay. Thank goodness that’s easy enough to change.” Pleased with that parting line, she spun on one heel and bit back a curse as she nearly toppled right off the dock. Determined not to look at him, she pretended she was absorbed by the beauty of the inn. And she was, even if it was hard to see.

For the first time in a while, taking a break from the emergency clinic seemed like a good plan. She could weed the garden, try to rescue Martha Collins’s roses.

Before she went inside, she paused to look at the bluebird boxes on the hill. She couldn’t see any birds, but she remembered how much she’d loved to wait for them. Before the trips to the inn, she’d never seen a bluebird, so every single sighting had added to the magic of Spring Lake. Her parents got along here. Her mother smiled, and her father laughed.

Even then she’d been more scientist than fairy-tale princess, but the bluebirds seemed to promise happy endings. The nesting boxes had faded like the rest of the place. She should research how to fix them up. The Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast needed bluebirds.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_e6d29112-c00c-538f-adad-97e4f248db73)

AFTER A LONG, sleepless night, Dean slipped out the front door and headed to the dock. The sun was rising over the lake. Watching the light spread across the calm surface was the only compensation for being unable to close his eyes without nightmares shaking him awake. A week of peaceful mornings like this had started to work a little of the familiar magic.

He cast his line and pretended to fish. If his father saw him, maybe he’d see it as a sign of progress. And maybe he’d decide to join him.

Steady, quick footfalls distracted him from his accidental meditation. He looked over his shoulder and winced at the morning stiffness of his old injuries, large and small. Elaine Watson didn’t even glance his direction as she ran by.

Joggers usually seemed to be suffering, but Elaine’s face was as calm as his own. And she was fast.

Of course she was. He had a feeling if she committed to something, she did it well. She probably ran because it was good exercise, but she excelled at it because she saw no other option.

“Must be exhausting.” He’d never aspired to be the best. Adventure and the chance to make a difference had been enough to keep him going. For a long time anyway.

Anyone who became a doctor had to have that same desire to help, didn’t she?

Dean’s shoulders slumped as he turned back to the water and closed his eyes. He didn’t really want to have anything in common with Elaine Watson.

“Jogging? Probably is exhausting.” His father held out a mug and sat next to him. “Guess it doesn’t matter if you enjoy it.”

Dean sipped his hot black coffee and felt the satisfaction spread all the way to his bones. “Thanks, Dad. This hits the spot.”

“Don’t tell the doctor. Little bit of caffeine’s good for the soul, I’m convinced.” His father cast his line, and neither one of them said anything for the longest time. The fish weren’t biting. Everything was quiet.

His father’s silence matched Dean’s mood. The tense restlessness was missing, and Dean appreciated the break. They were both content to sit there, staring out across the lake. He lost track of how long he waited for a bite.

“I’ve missed this,” Dean said. “Peace. Quiet.” He lifted his fishing rod and reeled in his useless bait. He might do better with a new lure, but that would require effort. This morning was nearly flawless as it was. He shifted, cast his line again and ignored the mental picture of Elaine’s disapproving stare.

“No one trying to shoot you with a long-range scope. No threats of drinking bad water or falling off a mountain.” His dad sighed. “It’s the little things.”

Dean’s rusty laugh was loud in the still morning. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“If your mother was around, she’d already have us jumping, ticking off the to-do list.” The click of his father’s reel was comforting, a sound that would always remind him of home.