“You think I’m being silly, don’t you?” Fortunately, Hollis didn’t wait for his response. “Things have been a little . . . stressful . . . lately. Connor’s agent wants him to be more accessible to the public, especially now that the producer is already talking about a sequel to Dead in the Water.”
“Answering a few questions and smiling for a photograph or two won’t put a damper on your wedding day.” Ethan tried to put his sister’s mind at ease the way he had when they were kids. By giving her a hard time. “The holes in the roof of the boathouse are another story.”
He was rewarded with a gurgle of laughter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Are you kidding? You’re my favorite sister.”
“I’m your only sister.”
“A minor technicality.”
“I guess I should call Connor and break the news that our secret wedding isn’t a secret anymore.”
“Once you explain that none of the Register’s subscribers live outside the county line, he’ll be okay with it.”
“I know.” Hollis sighed. “I just wish Mom wasn’t so determined to give me the wedding of her dreams.”
Now it was Ethan’s turn to laugh. “Don’t worry. She’s too far away to hijack your wedding plans.”
“She has a cell phone, and she’s not afraid to use it. What we need is a distraction.” Ethan could almost hear the wheels turning in his sister’s head. “You could tell her that you’ve been thinking about turning down the offer from Midland Medical. That would take the attention off my wedding.”
Confession time.
“I’m not thinking about it anymore,” Ethan admitted. “I called Dr. Langley this morning and let him know I accepted another position.”
He’d confided in Hollis about Dr. Heath’s offer, but the shriek that followed his announcement was a clue she hadn’t expected him to accept it. Not when he’d worked so hard for a place in Dr. Langley’s ER. “What made you change your mind?”
“Dr. Heath mentioned how difficult it is to find doctors who are willing to relocate to small towns.”
“So you’re saying Red Leaf needs you?” Hollis teased.
“Maybe.” Ethan watched a bald eagle circle lazily over Jewel Lake. A few months ago he’d been so focused on his work, he probably would have missed it.
Ethan had missed a lot of things until God—and a patient he’d referred to as “Bed Two”—got his attention.
Red Leaf might need him, but Ethan had a feeling he needed Red Leaf even more.
“It’s all about harmony in the relationship.” The sequined hem of Sybil Greene’s caftan dusted the floor as she swayed in front of the microphone.
Mac was beginning to feel a little seasick.
“Are you getting this down?” a voice hissed in her ear.
“Got it, Mrs. Baker.” Mac minimized solitaire on her tablet and tapped out the word harmony.
“If you practice these methods, I promise you’ll have amazing results.” Sybil gestured toward the PowerPoint screen with the practiced grace of a game show hostess and an awed hush fell over the room.
The local garden club had invited the self-proclaimed “plant matchmaker” to speak at their monthly meeting. Sybil claimed if you put certain plants together, they brought out the best in each other. Halfway through the lecture, Mac had come to the conclusion that it was pretty sad when a vegetable was able to maintain a successful relationship and she spent Friday and Saturday evenings alone.
Not that Mac wanted to be in a relationship. Number one, looking after Coach and working full-time at the newspaper didn’t leave her much time to socialize. Number two, it didn’t make sense to invest her time and energy in a relationship when she didn’t plan to stay in Red Leaf. And number three—
Ethan’s face popped up and Mac held back a sigh.
That was number three.
No matter how much time had gone by, Ethan’s face had a tendency to pop into her thoughts at the most inopportune times. Like when she was out on a date. Or watching a football game. The dates were few and far between anyway, but football? When your dad coached the sport? Kind of difficult to avoid.
There’d been moments of weakness when Mac let herself imagine what would happen if she saw Ethan again. But none of the possible scenarios that had played out in her mind had prepared her for the reality.
Ethan had smiled at her. Smiled. As if he was genuinely happy to see her. Which led Mac to one simple conclusion, and she didn’t need a PowerPoint presentation to prove it. Recognizing someone didn’t necessarily mean you remembered them. Or a promise you’d made.
Which only made it more aggravating that she hadn’t been able to forget him.
Applause erupted around the room, signaling the end of Sybil’s presentation.
Mac worked her way up to the podium, winding through the mob of enthusiastic gardeners who’d surrounded the platform like groupies at a Newsboys concert.
After snapping a few photos, Mac snagged a lemon bar from the dessert table and jogged across the parking lot to her car.