Silent Fall

hands. She was a doctor. She was his doctor!
    "Well, isn't this quite the reunion?" Josh murmured, breaking the silence between them. "Remember me?"
    Natalie looked at Josh blankly for a second; then recognition kicked in. "Of course. You're Josh, Dylan's twin brother and Cole's next-door neighbor."
    "Good memory."
    Natalie turned her attention back to Cole. "Did you come to see me about the book? Is it really about Emily?" Her gaze moved to his head. "Oh, you're hurt. You have a laceration. That's why you're here. Of course that's why you're here," she added with a shake of her head. "What am I thinking?"
    "What book? What are you talking about?"
    Her mouth opened, then closed. "Nothing. Are you in pain?"
    "I've had better days. Are you really a doctor?"
    "Yes, I am. What happened?" She held his chart in front of her like a protective shield.
    "I got hit by a flying object," he said, preferring not to go into the details.
    "His girlfriend threw a stapler at his head," Josh interjected helpfully. "She was trying to get his attention."
    "Did it work?" Natalie asked briskly, her demeanor changing at the mention of a girlfriend. Or maybe she was just coming to grips with the fact that they were in the same room. Whatever the reason, she now had on her game face.
    "I'm definitely switching to paper clips," Cole replied.
    She stared at him for a long moment. He wondered what she was seeing, what she was thinking. Not that he cared. Why would he care what she thought of him? He knew what he thought of her. And it wasn't good.
    "You may need stitches," she said.
    He wondered how she knew that when she hadn't looked at the wound. In fact, she'd stopped a good three feet away and couldn't seem to make herself come any closer. "How long have you worked here?"
    "A few years."
    "A few years?" he echoed. She'd been in San Francisco a few years, working at a hospital a couple of blocks from the newspaper?
    "St. Timothy's is an excellent hospital. They offered me a terrific opportunity, better than I could find anywhere else. That's why I came to San Francisco," she said in a defensive rush. "It had nothing to do with you. I'm going to get some sutures. I'll be back."
    Josh let out a low whistle as Natalie left the room. "I didn't see that one coming."
    "I didn't either," Cole murmured. It must be his night for getting blindsided by women.
    "She looks good."
    "I didn't notice."
    "Yeah, tell that to someone who doesn't remember how crazy you were about her."
    "I can't believe she's been in San Francisco for years. Why would she come here after everything that happened with Emily and with me?"
    "She always loved the cable cars."
    Cole's chest tightened. Natalie had loved the cable cars and the sailboats down at the marina, the fresh crab on Fisherman's Wharf, the long walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. At one time, he'd thought she'd fallen in love with the city as much as with him. Hell, maybe it had always been the city and never him. Not that he cared anymore. She was old news. Nothing was worse than old news.
    "What was that book she was talking about?" Josh asked.
    "I have no idea." It occurred to him that it was the second time that day someone had mentioned something about a book.
    Silence fell between them as several long minutes passed. It was too quiet. Cole didn't like it. "Do you think she's coming back?"

    Â 
    Buy ALL SHE EVER WANTED

JUST THE WAY YOU ARE

    Excerpt @ Copyright 2011 Barbara Freethy
    All Rights Reserved

    Prologue

    "Are you ready to go for a sail?" John MacGuire asked his wife. A young, handsome man, he stood on the edge of a wide sandy beach, wearing summer shorts and his favorite T-shirt. He pointed toward the water behind him, to the sailboat that bobbed gently in the quiet bay. "It's the perfect day."
    "I can't sail. I'm sick. I don't know what happened, but I can't seem to open my eyes." Phoebe MacGuire took a quick breath as panic filled her soul and the sounds and smells of the hospital threatened to pull her out of her dream. "I'm seventy-six years old now, John. How did I get to be so old? I'm scared."
    "No need to be scared, my darling, not when I'm here."
    "But you're not really here," she whispered, knowing his image was nothing but a memory, and her love had been gone for a very long time.
    "I miss you, Phoebe," he said softly, his voice as gentle as the morning breeze.
    "I miss you, too. Nothing has been the same since you died. You were the one who kept the family together. It was you,