Cindy Kirk - The Doctor's Valentine Dare

“When you leave unexpectedly—” Sylvie’s gaze shifted out the window where snow fell in large picturesque flakes “—no matter how good the reason, most people will consider you a coward. What those people don’t realize is that making a decision to leave takes a lot of strength. It’s often easier—safer—to take the path of least resistance.”

Josie considered what Sylvie said and felt some of the weight lift from her chest. Here, finally, was someone who understood. “I would have hated myself if I’d have stayed.”

“As would I.” The sadness in Sylvie’s eyes told Josie she didn’t have the market on suffering.

“What happened?” Josie rested a hand on Sylvie’s arm. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Much the same as what happened to you. I was a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. When I realized it wasn’t going to work, it was best for everyone I left.”

“You left your...family?”

“My fiancé.”

Something in the baker’s eyes told Josie not to push for more. “I’m sorry.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Sylvie lifted her chin, her violet eyes shimmering with determination. “But, like you, I was smart enough to know it was best to leave.”

Josie nodded. She only wished the thought gave her comfort. “Last evening, Ben tossed out that he hopes if they have a girl, she never treats Poppy the way I treated my mom.”

Sympathy filled Sylvie’s eyes. “Ouch.”

“My dad told Ben to drop it.” Josie pressed her lips together. “He didn’t, of course, arrogant jackass. Asked me why I didn’t just stand up for myself. He told me only a coward would run off and break her mother’s heart.”

Josie wasn’t sure what she expected Sylvie to say. Perhaps agree with her that her brother was a jerk. Or maybe soothe her by repeating she’d made the best decision possible. Instead, her new friend remained silent for a long moment.

“It’s hard for me to understand people who have such a different personality than I do.” She smiled at Josie. “I bet in Portland you surrounded yourself with men and women who pretty much viewed life through a common lens.”

Josie frowned.

“I do it, too,” Sylvie said before she could respond. “That’s why you and I became friends.”

The tension gripping Josie’s shoulders eased.

“It’s like my dad and brothers speak a different language,” Josie admitted with a rueful smile. “We look at the same situation and arrive at far different conclusions.”

A shadow passed over Sylvie’s face. “It’s very frustrating.”

“I want to understand them.” Josie lifted her hands, let them fall. “And I want them to hear—and understand—me. Sometimes I think I need an interpreter.”

Instead of laughing at the ridiculous thought, Sylvie’s expression grew thoughtful. “Yes. I believe that might be helpful.”

Josie gave a little laugh. “Too bad I can’t simply snap my fingers and conjure one up.”

“You don’t need to do that, not when you have the perfect person at your disposal.” Sylvie leaned back in her chair smiled. “Noah Anson wants something from you. You need something from him. From where I’m sitting, it’s a match made in heaven.”

Chapter Five

Saturday night, standing at the door to his grandmother’s house, Noah faced his sister. While he knew Daffodil frequently visited Pauline, it was rare for him to run into her here.

“Good evening, Daffodil.” He studied the younger sister who’d gone from worshiping him to not being able to stand the sight of him.

The pretty little girl had grown into a striking young woman. With her petite frame, blond hair straight and loose to midback, and big blue eyes, she could have been the poster girl for a 1960s flower child. The fact that she had a propensity for wearing all organic clothing only furthered that image.

Daffodil had been one of the top students at the boarding school where she’d been dumped after their parents’ divorce. After graduation, instead of going to college as he’d hoped, she’d become a hairstylist.

That had been the first in a series of mistakes she’d made, all because she’d refused to accept his guidance.

“Who’s at the door?” Pauline’s voice carried from the back of the house.

The fact that he was chilled while wearing a wool topcoat told him his sister must be freezing in her bare feet and loose-fitting cotton pants and collar-less shirt.

“It’s Noah,” Daffy called over her shoulder then stepped aside. “Come in.”

Her tone was deliberately careless, rather than rude. Still, Noah absorbed the punch.

He didn’t like feeling helpless and ineffectual. That was exactly how he felt around Daffy. Dealing with her was incredibly frustrating. No matter how calmly and logically he responded, she bristled.

At this rate, they’d never reconcile. Though Noah knew plenty of men with little or no contact with their siblings, Pauline and Daffodil were basically his only family. Though he maintained a cordial relationship with his parents, they both had new spouses. He and Daffy had long ago been relegated to their past.

Daffodil gestured with one hand. “Gram and Josie are in the parlor.”

“Perhaps you and I could grab dinner one night?” Noah suggested.

Daffy turned toward the stairs. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“Look, Daff.” Noah placed a restraining hand on her arm. “Forget that I was right about Cruz. That knowledge gives me no pleasure. As far as I’m concerned, that’s in the past.”

His sister jerked her arm back. Anger flashed in her eyes, but for a moment, a second, Noah caught a glimpse of another emotion. One that looked like regret.

Then she was gone, a blur of blue and yellow disappearing up the staircase.

Noah waited until his sister disappeared from sight before strolling into the back parlor. His grandmother had a cheery fire blazing in the hearth. She sipped a cup of tea while Josie sat on a nearby settee.

Josie wore a dress of cherry red for tonight’s medical staff festivities. Sexy, razor-thin heels of the same color completed the look.

She’d pulled her blond hair back in a twist that showed off a slender elegant neck and ears that shimmered with tiny ruby teardrops.

“Noah.” Pauline rose and opened her arms to him.

When he stepped close, his grandmother rested her hands on his forearms and studied him.

Though in her midseventies, Pauline could pass for a woman ten years younger. An active, vital widow, she was relaxed and comfortable in her own skin. A pleased look filled her blue-gray eyes.

“Some men are made to wear black tie,” she pronounced, then turned to Josie. “Don’t you agree, my dear?”

His date for the evening rose in a single fluid movement. “I agree. Your grandson looks quite dashing this evening.”

“As much as I’d love for you both to stay and visit, I don’t want you to be late for the party.” Pauline’s smile widened to include Josie. “The way you look tonight, Noah is going to have to fight to get one dance with you.”

Josie’s face colored with embarrassment. “Oh, Pauline.”

“Gram is right,” Noah said, finding the thought irritating, which made his words clipped. “That dress is very...”

Provocative was the word that came first to his mind, but he substituted “lovely,” which didn’t do the dress, or her, justice.

Pauline walked them to the door and brushed a kiss across Josie’s cheek. “I won’t wait up.”

The gesture of affection, directed toward someone his grandmother hadn’t known all that long, surprised and puzzled Noah.

He opened the door to his Range Rover and helped her inside, inhaling the sweet, tantalizing scent of her perfume.