Doctor to the Rescue

His eyes veered toward Tia, their color deepening to a dark blue, like a stormy sky. “A teen girl almost perished last night. She looked like I’d imagine Tia will in ten years. Identical hair, down to the natural ringlet curls.”

“I bet that was hard,” Bri said.

The vulnerable look entering his eyes next caught her completely off guard. He rose and brushed aside Bri’s ruffled maroon curtains. Thoughtfully eyed the main lodge through Bri’s big side window. “Do you have plans for the big lodge?”

She joined him at the window. “Yeah. Mom’s dreams.”

He faced her, his expression softening to a point that she had to look away. She felt too vulnerable otherwise. “Mom would hold sewing, cooking and quilting classes for her church ladies. She wanted to open it up to the community. She died before her dreams came true.” Bri shrugged the chill away.

Ian eyed her shoulders, then moved toward her but stopped.

Had he been about to come behind her and rub her arms?

“I have an idea, if you want to hear it,” he said.

Bri laughed. “Since when do you ever ask permission to share your opinion or waylay anyone daring to disagree with it?”

He smirked. “Point taken. The accident was fatal for two other teens. Alcohol was a factor. That lodge would be a very cool hangout for teens. You should consider letting me and Mitch fix it up as such once he gets some time.”

“It would give them something safe to do. There’s a big area downstairs that would be perfect for pool tables, a digital arcade, even laser tag. I could use the upstairs rooms for corporate events and meetings.”

“And those classes your mom started.” Ian smiled kindly.

“It’s a great idea, Ian. But I’d be remiss to let you and Mitch do it. You’re already renovating my cabins. I saw where you’d cleared the ivy away and replaced the gutters. Thanks.”

He nodded. “You’re helping me in a big way, too. With Tia.”

Bri peered once more at the lodge. Longing took root. “I’d hate to infringe on your time like that.”

“There’s nothing more important to me than saving lives, Bri.” He cast a glance over at Tia. “She’ll be a teen someday.”

Bri caught the fear in his words. “Trust God, Ian.”

He faced her. “I did. Once. My marriage crumbled, anyway. I lost my wife long before the divorce, Bri. She bailed when I gave my life to God and she didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, Ian. That must have been hard—”

“Boom wants in on the sherbet,” Tia announced loudly from the puppet box she’d dived into after dinner.

Ian approached and picked up a fox puppet. “Tell Boom if he can eat sherbet, he can help clean Tia’s room.”

Tia’s face popped out of the puppet stage curtain. She pointed sideways. “He’s right here.” Tia glared at her dad. “Tell him yourself, Mister Meanie Fox who takes baby rabbits away from their mothers.”

Tia wore bunny ears and a matching cottontail.

Ian’s jaw clenched.

Bri didn’t miss the pain Tia’s words had lashed across his eyes. Bri tensed like a witness to a car wreck.

Flashes of Eric’s rage at his nephew spilling a shake in his Corvette came to mind. Then how her ex had railed her all the way to the car wash for “stupidly inviting the kid along.”

But Ian didn’t blow. He calmly pulled the fox puppet off his arm. Set it in the box. Knelt face-to-face with his daughter. Love never left his eyes. “Tia, I know it’s hard when things change and we don’t want them to. But that doesn’t mean we can leave someone’s home a mess.”

“Ours could sparkle clean and it would still be a mess. You don’t do anything right. Not bedtime stories or bath time or eggs or Christmastime or nothing! Especially your icky eggs! And your animal pancakes are stupid! They don’t look like air force aardvark fairies at all!”

“Aardvark fairies?” Bri blurted before she could think.

“Yes. They fly in and eat all the bugs.” She glared again at Ian. “He has ants in his house and I hate living there. We don’t even have a tree or cookies and Santa is coming in—” Rant paused, she counted on her fingers and gasped. “Three days!”

Ian looked about to scold Tia for speaking disrespectfully, but his cell phone rang. He viewed the screen. Relief hit his face.

“Excuse me.” He carried plates to the sink with one hand and answered his call with the other. He went to Bri’s deck to speak, eyes flitting her way through a window.

Bri put leftovers away. “Tia, let’s get toys picked up.”

“Can you go to Sully’s with us?” Tia asked as they worked.

“Um, well...” She didn’t want to barge in on daddy-daughter time. Plus, her arm was really hurting.

Tia grabbed Bri’s good hand and squeezed. “Please?”

Ugh. She was a heartbreaker, this kid. Bri eyed Ian, who walked in with a neutral expression. Too neutral. “Was that Caleb?” Bri pegged.

“Yes. He’s fine. Said to tell you he loves you but not to call. He’ll be out of range for three weeks. He’ll call you—and me—when he’s back at base.”

She gritted her teeth, and felt as if she was the only one not in on the full conversation.

Bri fought hurt that Caleb didn’t speak to her and that Ian didn’t encourage him to. Why? Was Ian as thoughtless as Eric? Or was Caleb imminently marching into more serious combat danger?

“Miss Bri’s going to Sully’s with us,” Tia announced.

Bri stiffened, ready for Ian’s explosion. Eric never liked when his pals had included Bri in their get-togethers.

The only thing that ignited on Ian’s face was a smile. “Awesome. Tia, did you and Boom pick toys up?” Ian went to check the play area behind Bri’s burgundy-and-blue-striped couch, leaving Bri to wonder why she tended to compare the two men.

It wasn’t as if she was interested in Ian. She was simply becoming involved in his life because she was babysitting Tia. That was all.

Bri’s unease had nothing to do with how handsome his jet-black hair looked in a fresh buzz. Or how his broad chest filled out a black leather jacket.

Nothing at all.

Chapter Three

Nothing at all was wrong with his heart. So why Ian’s pulse skipped upon sight of a tall blonde jogging the lakeside trail ahead on his run the next morning, he had no idea. Especially since she resembled Bri. Platinum ponytail brushing her back with each athletic footfall, white wisps fluttering in the breeze, easy as her one-armed stride.

Wait. One arm? He sped up. Looked closer.

That was Bri.