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  She rose out of the chair so her face was closer to his. When she spoke, her voice was barely louder than the gentle hum of machinery keeping him alive. “I always thought you were too safe.” Ashley ran her thumb over the top of Landon’s hand. “You crazy guy. Now look at you.”

  Something seemed to move near the end of the bed. Was it Landon’s foot? Ashley stared at his toes poking up beneath the blanket. A minute passed, then two, but there was nothing. Her father was right; Landon was unconscious. If he didn’t start breathing on his own, if his oxygen levels didn’t improve, he might not make it.

  What if he died? What if she never got to talk to him or laugh with him again? All her adult life she’d known that Landon was in love with her, waiting for her, even when she did her best to maintain the distance between them. She remembered when he’d come to her parents’ house the week before she left for Paris. That night when he said good-bye, they had lingered for a while beneath the moonlit sky.

  “I’ll miss you.” Landon had leaned against his Blazer and stuffed his hands in his pockets, gazing down at Ashley with a crooked grin.

  Ashley hadn’t planned on an emotional scene with Landon. After all, he was setting off for college in a few weeks. She wanted to leave without any romantic ties in Bloomington, nothing to keep her from experiencing life in a city that breathed creativity. Regardless of their shared high school days, they were about to chase separate dreams.

  She had stared at the gravel, dragging the toe of her tennis shoe in small circles before answering him. “Hey, you’ll be fine.” His words had rattled around in her heart while she tried to ignore them. “Besides, you’ll be busy with all those college girls.”

  For a long while Landon had simply looked at her, almost as though he was trying to memorize her eyes, her face. When he finally spoke, he’d said something Ashley remembered clearly to this day. “Just once”—he had given her a sad smile—“just once, I wish you’d look at me like you love me.”

  Even then, Ashley had refused to let her heart be sucked in, refused to acknowledge the feelings she had always had for Landon. Feelings that weren’t exactly love, but were certainly deeper than ordinary friendship. Feelings of, well, connection, which frightened her more than any crush ever could have. But instead of allowing her eyes to reflect her deepest emotions, instead of kissing him as she’d done just once, she had made a joke. Pushed him or tickled him or kicked his foot—Ashley couldn’t quite remember what. But in a matter of seconds the mood had changed, and they were back on more comfortable ground, teasing and laughing and wishing each other the best before saying good-bye.

  A nurse entered the room, and Ashley jumped. Self-consciously she let go of Landon’s hand and sat back in her chair. The nurse nodded at her and checked the monitors set up around the head of Landon’s bed.

  Ashley followed her every move, trying to determine from the look on the nurse’s face whether Landon was doing better. “How is he?”

  The nurse glanced at the clipboard in her hands. “About the same. We need to see an improvement in his blood oxygen level before morning.” Her eyes raised and met Ashley’s. “Are you his girlfriend?”

  “No.” Ashley’s answer was quick, and instantly she regretted it. What if Landon could hear them? She gave a quick laugh. “I’ve known Landon forever. We’re . . . we’ve always been close.”

  “Take another ten minutes.” The nurse was fiddling with the IV bag. “After that, his parents want to see him again.”

  “Okay.” Ashley nodded. “May I stay in the waiting room? I want to be here . . . when he wakes up.”

  The nurse smiled. “Definitely.”

  When she was gone, Ashley leaned forward and took Landon’s hand once more. She still didn’t know what she felt for this strong, handsome man who somehow always made her feel suffocated. If he were awake, she’d have no more promises for him now than she’d had that summer night before she went to Paris.

  But here, watching him fight for his life, not sure if she would ever get a chance to speak to him again, Ashley was certain of one thing.

  She loved Landon Blake. Loved him with a strength that took her breath away. The odd thing about it was that admitting she loved him didn’t change anything. Not really. Strange that you could care for someone so fiercely and still be sure he was all wrong for you. And yet, the thought of losing him . . .

  Ashley held her breath. Maybe that would stave off the sobs building in her heart. All her life people had hurt her or looked past her or misunderstood her. But not Landon. He had loved her with a singleness of purpose, believed in her long after she’d stopped believing in herself. But for all his kindness—for every time he’d walked away when she needed space or smiled when she deserved a cold shoulder—all she’d ever given him was grief.

  Tears slid down the sides of her face, and she let her head fall against the railing of the hospital bed. Her time was almost up, and Ashley knew she might not have another chance. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her head, hoping that when she opened them, Landon would be awake, smiling at her, promising her he was going to survive.

  Instead, he lay stone still, his chest still rising in time to the rhythm of the machine.

  She drew an unsteady breath and bent close to his ear. “Landon, it’s me—Ashley.” Three small sobs worked their way to the surface, and she hesitated, waiting until she had control once more. “I keep thinking of all the times you made me smile. When you brought me those silly comic strips in high school and took me sailing. When you showed up at Cole’s baby dedication and when you kept seeing me everywhere—like at that café or at the grocery store.”

  Fresh tears burned her cheeks. She sucked in two quick breaths and tried to find her voice. “Remember when you told me you wished I’d look at you like I loved you?”

  Ashley smothered another wave of sobs with the sleeve of her jacket. “I’m . . . I’m sorry I never said it before.” She steadied her voice. He deserved to know the depth of her feelings. The words he wanted to hear had to be said. Now. In case he didn’t make it. In case he never—

  She couldn’t finish the thought. “I love you, Landon. I’ve always loved you.” She sucked in another breath. “I still don’t—” She wanted to add that she still didn’t want anything romantic with him, but she stopped herself. What was the point? He was unconscious, anyway. But in case he could hear her, she wanted him to know she cared. “That’s all.” Another sob constricted her throat, and she waited for it to pass. “I wanted to tell you before another minute passed.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ashley felt as though her heart had grown wings. No, she wasn’t in love with Landon. But if love could be measured by how much a person cared, then indeed she loved Landon deeply, and having told him so lifted a mountain off her shoulders. Everything about who she was and how she appreciated this man was suddenly alive and bursting within her, as though she’d somehow been in a prison and now she was finally free.

  It was a feeling as wonderful and delicious as Christmas morning. And in the bustle of the ICU, in the remaining moments she had left with Landon, she had the sudden assurance that he was going to survive. She thought about Irvel and the job at Sunset Hills. The way her heart felt softer already.

  Yes, they were both going to survive.

  “Everyone’s praying for you, Landon.” She sniffed twice. “The little boy you went in after—he’s doing great. You saved his life.” She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. “You’re going to make it, Landon. I know it.” She squeezed his hand tenderly. “I’ll be here when you do.”

  * * *

  The head ICU nurse on duty that night was filling out a patient chart at the desk when a beautiful young woman approached her. As she drew closer, the nurse could see she’d been crying. “I’m Ashley Baxter. Dr. Baxter’s daughter.” The pretty woman pointed down the hall. “I’ve been visiting Landon Blake. His family can see him now. I think they’re in a private room somewhere.” She
tapped her finger softly on the desktop. “Please . . . if anything changes, I’ll be in the waiting room.”

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll find you.” She bit her lip. If this was the doctor’s daughter, then she already knew her firefighter friend was in grave danger. “Your friend’s got the best doctor in Bloomington.”

  The Baxter woman managed a brief smile. “Thank you.”

  When the visitor was gone, the nurse grabbed Landon’s chart and walked quickly back to his room. Last time she’d checked, his blood oxygen level was still in the low nineties. The ventilator was helping, but clearly the man’s lungs had been damaged. Maybe beyond repair.

  The nurse stepped into the room and stopped short, her mouth open. The man was working the fingers of his right hand. He was coming out of the coma! That could mean only one thing.

  She shot a look at the monitor near his bed. His oxygen level was at ninety-seven. Ninety-seven! Somehow his body had found the strength to suck in far more air than before. She stared at the number and watched it climb to ninety-eight.

  She couldn’t think of another time when she’d seen a patient turn around so quickly. What had the doctor’s daughter said or done while she was in here? Without waiting any longer, the nurse ran to find his family and tell them the news. Then she looked for Ashley Baxter.

  When the nurse found her, she saw raw fear in the young woman’s eyes. “Is he . . . is he worse?”

  The head nurse smiled. “No. His oxygen level is higher. He’s waking up.”

  The fear vanished, and in its place she saw hope and joy and relief mingled against the backdrop of something sparkly and soft and undeniable. Something that spoke of honor and a lifetime of memories. Something she had seen often enough to recognize.

  And in that instant the head nurse knew why this woman’s presence had so profoundly affected the injured man. He obviously had feelings for her, feelings deep enough that her voice had beckoned him off death’s doorstep. Whatever their relationship was, the woman’s eyes told at least half the story.

  Dr. Baxter’s daughter was in love with Landon Blake.

  Chapter Five

  Ashley spread the final layer of frosting over Erin’s birthday cake and tried to get a grip on her emotions. This was no time to break down. Her parents were throwing a party for Erin, and the entire family would be here. Ashley bit her lip and planted a row of candles on the cake.

  The Baxter house was the last place she wanted to be.

  If she had any sense, she would have stayed home tonight, sat by the window and sorted through her feelings, or done a little painting. In all her life, she couldn’t remember a more emotionally draining forty-eight hours. But she’d promised her mother she’d help set up the party, and she wasn’t about to back out now. She exhaled hard and set the cake in the center of the counter. Cole was still down for his nap, and the house was quiet. The others wouldn’t arrive for an hour or so.

  She would simply have to do her thinking here.

  How had things between her and Landon gotten so strained? Ashley took a stack of plates from the cupboard and began setting the table. One minute there had been the stark possibility of losing him, the thought that she might never see him again. The next moment she had felt the amazing joy of standing beside his bed with his family gathered round, holding Landon’s hand while his father thanked God that he’d survived.

  And sometime since then, the walls that so long had guarded her heart from him had shot up higher and more impenetrable than ever. Sometimes she wanted nothing more than to sit with Landon, encourage him about his recovery, and catch up on old times. But other times she desperately wanted to run.

  Since Landon had regained consciousness, Ashley had sensed an unspoken obligation. As though somehow, in the time it took him to open his eyes and begin to speak, she had become his undisputed girlfriend.

  It had all been so simple that first night. She loved him, no questions asked. And she had no regrets about voicing her feelings for him that night in the hospital room. How terrible it would have been for him to die without knowing how she felt. But those feelings didn’t change things between them.

  Now that he was awake, the issues that had always loomed between them seemed bigger than ever. They were too different, their views on life and faith and family too far apart for them to ever be a couple. Besides, she had a new job. On Monday she would report for duty and begin working with Irvel and her friends at Sunset Hills. In the process Ashley intended to learn something about the human heart, about the emotions she’d sent into exile while in Paris. When she wasn’t working, she needed to care for Cole—even if she sometimes thought he’d rather be with her parents. And then there was her painting. If she was ever going to make her mark as a serious artist—something she fully intended to do—she needed to spend time with her art.

  All of which meant she had no room in her life for Landon Blake, even if everyone else seemed to think otherwise. Especially her sister Kari, who always believed in the power of love—even now, when her unfaithful husband lay dead in the grave these past five months.

  But why shouldn’t Kari believe in love? Kari had lost a husband, but she had Ryan Taylor waiting in the wings, whether she wanted to believe that or not. He might live a thousand miles away, but he was waiting—Ashley had no doubt of that. Even after all that had happened to Kari, the knowledge that Ryan was there for her and that the two of them were perfect for each other was bound to make things easier. Bound to encourage her to get on with life. Because Ryan Taylor was definitely a man worth moving on for.

  Ashley thought of the day she and Ryan had spent together last December. Their lunch date, the conversation they’d shared. The kiss. As good as that afternoon had seemed at the time, it had been wrong. Ryan didn’t love her; he loved Kari.

  That much was obvious from how the day ended.

  Ashley sucked in a deep breath. Ryan’s quick departure that evening had dropped the temperature of her heart another ten degrees, even when she knew he was right to walk away. She’d never told anyone about what happened. How could she? Kari was the only one of her three sisters who still cared anything for her.

  The other Baxter girls—Brooke and Erin—might have been on another planet, for all the closeness they shared with Ashley. And Luke was worse. No matter how close they’d been as children, Ashley’s time in Paris had changed everything between them. Now her brother was little more than a stranger—a mean-spirited, judgmental stranger.

  Her world had once revolved around this sprawling country house, her parents, and the brother and sisters she’d grown up with, but Ashley now felt little connection to any of them. They all wanted her to be like Kari, even if they never said as much. They wanted her to give up painting and get on with life—the way they thought her life should go. Which of course meant church attendance, volunteering for the PTA, making bread like her mom, being a much better mother than she currently was. Plus, if she could swing it, going back to school and landing a prestigious, high-paying medical job like Brooke’s or a glamorous one like Kari’s modeling. The whole works—all on top of a satisfying marriage to someone like Landon Blake. The truth was, they wanted her to see Landon the way the rest of them did: a man with the deepest sense of integrity and commitment, a man who might be a father to little Cole if only she’d allow it, a man who was sought after by single woman across Bloomington, but who had eyes only for Ashley.

  They just couldn’t see what Ashley saw—that Landon Blake wasn’t right for her.

  Despite his job, he was too safe, too predictable. Too good. Life with him couldn’t bring either of them anything but misery. Besides, the very thought of spending her life with Landon—or any other man, for that matter—was enough to make her heart race with anxiety. Landon’s injury had helped her voice her feelings for him, but it hadn’t changed the facts. Though she loved Landon, she wasn’t in love with him. Not really. Not the way he wanted her to be.

  Ashley checked the freezer to be sure the
re were two gallons of ice cream for the party. The cartons were there, of course. Her mother wouldn’t forget a single detail. Birthdays were a big deal in the Baxter family. Even Ashley’s.

  They might not have agreed with her choice of quitting school to work full-time, or with her lack of faith, or with the amount of time she spent away from her young son. But they still celebrated her birthday.

  Ashley walked slowly back into the kitchen and took a dozen glasses from the cupboard. A sense of dread filled her when she thought about visiting Landon later. The air between the two of them now felt stiff, charged with tension. Forced almost. The way it had felt when she was a senior in high school and Landon had asked her out. Back when the idea of having a steady boyfriend and a predictable future had first begun to suffocate her.

  There was only one possible explanation for their sudden awkwardness around each other: Landon had heard her that night when he lay in intensive care.

  If that was true, if he could easily recall every word she said, then maybe he was waiting for her to say it again now that he was awake. Maybe he hadn’t understood the kind of love she meant. If not, her silence on the matter was bound to have confused him. Certainly if she could make a declaration of love to him while he was near death, she could make it now that he was recovering, right?

  At least that’s how Landon might be seeing it.

  From the front of the house, Ashley heard voices and she let go of her thoughts about Landon. Besides, she wasn’t the only Baxter daughter who seemed to be struggling. Kari had shed her share of tears in the last year. And Erin hadn’t been herself lately either. She was quieter, more withdrawn.