The Doctor's Perfect Match

Though he was gratified by his friend’s loyalty, Christopher was far less certain where the blame lay.

“Well, gentlemen, how was your tea?”

They both looked up. Marci stood beside their table, a small white box in hand.

“Best tea I ever went to,” Henry declared, beaming up at her.

Christopher quirked an eyebrow at him. As far as he knew, this was the only tea Henry had ever gone to.

The older man ignored his skeptical reaction. “What did you think, Christopher?”

“Very nice.” He smiled at Marci, appreciating how the simple but elegant white silk blouse showed off her figure. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“It was the least I could do. I was in desperate straits the day you stopped by. The antibiotics worked magic.” Transferring her attention to Henry, she set the small white box on the table. “Julie told me you were partial to the chocolate tarts, Mr. Calhoun. Here are a few more to take home so you can extend your birthday celebration.”

He laid a gnarled hand on the box and gave her a pleased smile. “That’s mighty sweet of you. And it’s Henry, please. Now tell me, how are you enjoying Nantucket?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen much yet. But I intend to make up for that as soon as my brother and sister-in-law get back.”

“How long will you be staying?”

“I have five weeks left. One more to work, and four to play. I plan to take a month of vacation before I get serious about looking for a job. I just finished my master’s.”

“In what?”

“Social work.”

“My, that’s impressive.”

“Hardly.” She gave him a wry grin. “Most people my age are already well-established in their careers. I was a late bloomer.”

Henry cocked his head. “Couldn’t have been that late. You don’t look more than twenty-four, twenty-five.”

She chuckled. “Try thirty-one.”

“Thirty-one.” Henry shot his host a speculative look. “That’s a perfect age.”

The sudden gleam in Henry’s eyes reminded Christopher of the one he’d seen in Edith’s the day he’d made the house call. It was time to steer the conversation to a safer topic. Like sightseeing.

“It’s nice that you’ll have a chance to enjoy the island at leisure,” he offered, keeping his tone conversational. “A lot of people only stay for a weekend, or make it a day trip. You’ll be able to explore all the beaches. And be sure to visit the lighthouses.”

“Especially Sankaty,” Henry said, jumping back in. “That’s real close to where I live, in ’Sconset.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Tell you what. Why don’t you ring me if you’re out my way, and I can ride along and give you some history? I could take you on a tour of the Lifesaving Museum, too. I’m a trustee there. Then you could come back to my place and have some of my homemade banana-nut bread. It can’t compare to these—” he tapped the box in front of him “—and I don’t make it as well as my wife did, but I like to keep it on hand. I think of her whenever I have a slice.” His voice choked, and he cleared his throat.

Marci’s features softened, effecting a subtle, appealing transformation in her face that tugged at Christopher’s heart. “I’d like that, Henry. And banana-nut bread is one of my favorites, too.”

“It’s a date, then.” He extracted a pen and small scrap of paper from his jacket, speaking as he wrote. “Here’s my phone number. You give me a call anytime.”

“I’ll do that.” Marci slipped the piece of paper into the pocket of her skirt.

“Maybe I can convince Christopher to join us, if he’s not working. He’s partial to my banana-nut bread, too.”

That suggestion seemed to fluster her, Christopher noted, still focused on her face. She took a small step back and clasped her hands in front of her. “Dr. Morgan is probably very busy, Henry. I’m on vacation. He’s not.”

“He works too hard. A little R & R would do him good. And you can call him Christopher. We don’t stand on formality around here.”

When Marci shot Christopher an uncertain glance, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Please do.” He smiled, and as they stared at each other, his pulse tripped into double time.

It was Henry who finally broke the charged silence. “I think we’re overstaying our welcome, Christopher.” He gestured to the deserted tearoom, where Julie was beginning to clear tables. “These lovely ladies have work to do.”

Dragging his gaze away from Marci, Christopher pushed back his chair—and willed the warmth creeping up his neck to stay below his collar. “Thanks again.”

Marci gave him a stiff nod. “It was a pleasure. I’ll call you, Henry.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

In silence, Christopher followed the older man to the front door, taking his arm as they descended the steps.

“She’s a sweet girl,” Henry offered.

“Yes, she is.”

“Great legs, too.”

A smile tugged at Christopher’s lips. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Henry grinned up at him. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a month of Sundays.”

Christopher’s smile faded, and he sent his landlord a stern look. “Don’t get any ideas, Henry.”

“I wasn’t the one with ideas back there.” His eyes twinkled. “I may be old, but I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at her.”

“She’s a very pretty woman. But appreciating beauty isn’t the same as pursuing it.”

“True.” Henry’s grin widened. “But it’s a start.”

Shaking his head, Christopher opened the car door for his neighbor. Henry could be as tenacious as a Nantucket deer tick when he got a notion into his head. And he doubted there was anything he could say to dissuade the older man from his fanciful conclusions. The best he could do was avoid talking about Marci in Henry’s presence.

Except he had a sneaking feeling Henry wasn’t going to cooperate with that plan.

Chapter Three

“I feel bad about putting you to this expense, J.C.”

Pushing through the gate in the tall privet hedge surrounding Edith’s backyard, J.C. shot Marci a disgruntled look over his shoulder as she trailed along behind him. “We’ve been over this a dozen times. After seven years of nonstop work and school, you deserve a vacation to celebrate your graduation. Since you won’t stay with Heather and me, this is a good alternative.”

“I can’t stay with you. You’re newlyweds. But this doesn’t feel right, either.” Marci followed her brother down a flagstone path through the well-tended yard. Considering the high prices on the island, her big brother was probably spending a fortune on the month’s rent for the little outbuilding that Chester had turned into a guest cottage.