“You’re all very kind,” she said. “Let’s look at the MRI and make a game-time decision.”
“I’ll take that,” Declan said. “And of course he’ll stay with you for as long as you like.”
Molly slid her arm around Evie’s. “If we get him comfortable for a few hours, can you join the family for Sunday dinner?”
“Oh, I’d love to, but I have another patient at home. And if you think ol’ Lusky here can make some noise, then you can’t imagine a ninety-two-year old World War II vet who wants his ‘linner’—late lunch, early dinner—at exactly the same time every day. But I’ll take a rain check, I promise.” She gave the dog another gentle stroke. “I’d like to get Lusky home and situated as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely,” Dr. K. said. “Dec, can you help Evie get this boy to her house?”
Instantly, Evie’s hand froze. She didn’t look up, but she could feel the tension that suddenly stretched through the room.
Declan Mahoney hadn’t stepped foot in Gloriana House since before the fire that killed his father. And she would never ask him to—
“Of course,” he said. “We’ll take whatever supplies we need from here, meds, and a dog bed. I can bring him over in my truck. Right now, Evie?”
“I think that would be best for the dog.”
As he nodded slowly, Evie could have sworn she saw one brick of his protective wall tumble to the ground. Now if she and this wobbly dog could manage not to trip over it, things would be looking up for both of them.
Chapter Six
The great contradiction about Gloriana House was that it represented the best and the worst of Declan’s life. For the first twenty years, the stately Victorian that sat at the top of the hilly residential section known as Ambrose Acres was the home of one of his favorite people on earth. Knocking on the big leaded-glass front door had meant he was moments away from Evie Hewitt and her laughter and beauty and warmth.
For the second twenty years of his life, the monster loomed, bearing down on the town, its very existence a reminder that Joe Mahoney had once roamed these streets, saving lives and doling out advice to family and strangers.
So, now, at forty-one, Declan was entering the third twenty years of his life, and maybe it was time that Gloriana House represented something else. Something bright and positive and constant.
Jeez, it had been a long time since he’d felt bright and positive. But that was the magic of Evie. Ever since he’d heard her voice at the bakery, something deep inside him had shifted a little.
Maybe that was his dreaded basement door opening up. Or…closing.
“What do you think, bud?” he said to the sleeping dog. “How about we change things up in our boring lives, huh?”
The dog’s eyes stayed tightly closed. He was sound asleep, thanks to whatever Uncle Daniel had given him, and maybe his dog’s sense that a sweet, nurturing, wonderful woman was making room in her heart for him.
“Lucky dog,” Dec murmured. Could she ever make room for…a man? This man? This very man who’d once felt the earth move with love for that girl?
Because she had been a girl. And he’d been a boy. And life hadn’t really happened yet.
It had been a long time since Declan had allowed himself to think about that night in the mountains. Forced every year to celebrate and mourn on the very same day, he’d never allowed himself the luxury of thinking about the other milestone of life that occurred on August 28.
The date had rolled around a little over a month ago, less difficult but no less meaningful for Declan and his whole family. Not once on that day had he thought of it as the one and only time he and Evie had sex.
But he couldn’t help remembering when he saw her…and wishing it had all turned out so damn different. If they hadn’t gone camping that night, if Dad hadn’t taken his shift, if life had dealt them different cards, what would have happened?
He wouldn’t have been killed in the fire because he’d have never been sent in first, not back then, less than a year out of probation. So…would he and Evie be married? Would Dad be retiring and helping Declan prepare to take his place as chief? Would she have moved back and started a practice here? Would they have…kids?
God, she’d have been a spectacular mom. And he’d have been…content.
Coming around the last corner, he looked up to the hill, forcing himself to stare at Gloriana House, trying to look at it objectively.
Painted in shades of deep yellow and creamy white, all trimmed with dark brown accents, the three-story manor stood like a monument to an era gone by. Its classic mansard roof draped over the top floor like icing on a cake, and graceful Palladian-arched windows offered maximum light and balance. Wrought-iron railings wrapped around the first and second floors, each supported by stately white columns. A single octagonal-shaped tower rose up from one corner, topped by a pointed turret. The locals liked to say that tower was built by Thad Jr. to be the closest thing to heaven in all of Bitter Bark.
Reaching out on the other side—a second-story veranda that covered a large patio underneath.
That would be the closest thing to hell.
New perspective, Dec. New perspective.
After all, it wasn’t the same overhang that had collapsed and killed his father after rags soaked in linseed oil had combusted into a blaze on the patio underneath it. Penelope Hewitt, Evie’s grandmother, had rebuilt the whole wing in keeping with the historical architecture. No doubt there was still a first-floor sunroom, once Evie’s mother’s painting studio, adjacent to that patio, and a bedroom above it that opened up to an upstairs veranda. But the physical structure was not the same, and Declan had to remember that.
“Plus, you’ll be there,” he said to the dog as he turned in to the drive.
