“How about four days a week—that will give her enough downtime to get off her feet and recharge. I think as she gets closer to term, she’ll be grateful not to be working that much.”

“That I can do. How long do you think you’ll let her work—until eight months?”

“Let’s play it by ear. I’m sure Annie will be keeping a close eye on her.”

Honor waved to a tall man in a blue work shirt passing on the opposite side of the street. He held the hands of twin girls about Callie’s age. “How’s that working out? With Annie?”

Hollis’s stomach clenched until she realized Honor was asking about the exploratory committee. “Fine so far. Better than I expected, really.”

“Annie seems very competent.”

“Yes. Hopefully the rest of her group is like her.” Hollis glanced into the park where kids and adults gathered near the pond. She didn’t see Annie—too late, probably. The pang of disappointment annoyed her. “I doubt it, though. She’s pretty unusual.”

“Medicine is changing,” Honor mused. “We’ve got a lot more PAs in the ER than we did five years ago. Every division has physician assistants and nurse practitioners handling primary-care duties. We’d be in trouble without them.”

“Are you suggesting we OBs are holdouts? Dinosaurs?”

“I didn’t say that.” Honor laughed. “Although a few of you…”

Hollis grinned. “Yeah, okay. Maybe so.”

“I understand the concerns,” Honor said, pausing at the corner at the far end of the park. “But the bottom line is offering the best patient care, and multidisciplinary teams have definitely improved that in cancer care and rehab.”

“That’s the approach Annie and I will be taking—so I guess we’ll find out.” Hollis pointed to her house on the opposite corner. “I’m over there.”

“It’s ridiculous we’re only a few blocks away and we haven’t gotten together before this,” Honor said. “How about dinner Saturday night? Nothing fancy—we’ll grill something. Bring a guest.”

“All right,” Hollis said before she could fabricate an excuse. She wasn’t looking forward to a long weekend of her own disgruntled company. “I’ll be stag, though.”

“I’m glad you can make it. Is six okay? The kids are famished by then.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hollis said, thinking of Callie. “Sure, it’s fine.”

“’Night, then.”

“’Night.” Hollis waved and jogged across the street. Just as she reached her front gate, a car pulled to the curb and someone called her name. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it, but she spun around, a rush of excitement surging in her chest.

“Hi, Hollis!” Callie waved out the window of Annie’s Volvo.

Hollis walked over, bent down, and peered inside. “Hey, Callie. How are you doing?”

“We brought dinner.”

“Did you?” Hollis looked past Callie to Annie, who stared at her uncertainly. “Hi. You’re full of surprises.”

Annie blushed. “I took a chance you might be hungry.”

Hollis glanced into the backseat and saw the takeout bags. A panoply of delectable scents reached her and her stomach rumbled. She laughed. “I guess I am. You two want to come in?”

“I thought maybe we’d have a picnic in the park,” Annie said. “We’ve got another hour of light left. If you’re not too tired, I mean.”

Hollis wasn’t tired all. For the first time since she’d walked out of the hospital, she looked forward to the evening. “What do you need me to bring? I can grab—”

“Just you,” Annie said, the smile Hollis loved replacing the uncertainty in her eyes.

“I’m at your service, then. Let me carry the goods.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” Annie ducked her head and unbuckled Callie, hoping her relief wasn’t obvious. She hadn’t given herself time to think about what she was doing once she’d made the phone call to the restaurant. She wasn’t usually impetuous—not any longer. She didn’t do things on the spur of the moment, especially not with other people—other people who had somehow come to occupy the very center of her thoughts. Of course, she didn’t really know what she did in those circumstances because there hadn’t been anyone like that. Not for so long, and not for who she was now. She was a different person now. At least she hoped she was, or she was doing something completely crazy.

“I want to help carry the goods too, Mommy,” Callie informed her.

“Well, sit tight until I come around the other side, and then you can get out and help Hollis.”

“Okay. Hurry.”

Smiling, Annie stepped out of the car and looked across the roof at Hollis, who was watching her with an expression halfway between amused and that other look she got—the dark, contemplative one, where Annie imagined she saw hunger licking around the edges of a swirling fire. The look that made her burn inside. She swallowed. “I suppose I should’ve called.”

“No,” Hollis said, “you did exactly right.” She glanced down and grinned. “Can I let her out? She’s about to bust.”

Annie laughed and her uncertainty faded. “Yes, please.” She closed the door and hurried around to the sidewalk. Hollis leaned into the backseat, her jeans stretched tight over her very handsome ass. Callie danced from foot to foot, grinning as if she were about to get a Christmas present.

Hollis straightened with her hands full of bags of food and saw where Annie’s gaze had been riveted. Her eyebrows rose and she smirked. “Everything okay?”

“Just fine.” Annie willed herself not to blush—and thought she’d managed it—but Hollis’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. Damn her—she knew how hot she was. Annie laughed. “And you know it.”

“Never hurts to hear.” Hollis handed Callie a plastic bag. “Here, Cal—you got the food. I’ll carry the sodas.”

“Okay!” Callie gazed at Hollis with an expression of awe, and Annie’s heart stopped in her chest. What if she was making a horrible mistake? She had more than just herself to think about. But she wasn’t doing anything—just a friendly dinner—oh, that was so much BS too. Oh God, what was she doing?

Hollis balanced the cardboard tray with sodas in one hand and closed the car door. “This is nice. Thanks.”

The pleasure in Hollis’s deep voice dispelled the last of Annie’s misgivings. “It’s not all that much. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so you’re having the same thing again.”

“That’s perfect. You remembered.” Hollis’s right hand drifted down to rest on the top of Callie’s head, the way Annie’s always did when they walked together.

The gesture was so touching Annie felt tears rise to her eyes. Oh, there was something terribly wrong with her. This wasn’t her. She turned her face away. “We should go before it gets too dark, and you need to eat.” She held out her hand to Callie. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.”

Hollis came up close to her side. “I’m starving.”

“Yes,” Annie murmured, carefully not looking at her. “I am too.”

Once across the street, Annie asked, “Over by the pond?”

“Sounds great,” Hollis said.

Annie found a patch of grass in the sun on the far side of the pond. They weren’t alone, but they might as well have been for all anyone else mattered. All she could see was Hollis, sprawling in the grass, passing food to Callie and murmuring instructions. She was so good with Callie. She was so good with everyone. And she was so damn good to look at, even with the creases of fatigue around her eyes and the shadows that flickered in their depths.

“Why don’t you relax—let me take care of the food,” Annie said, grasping Hollis’s wrist.

Hollis glanced up, her blue eyes sparkling, and a lock turned deep inside the fortress Annie had built to protect herself. Doors swung wide and Annie sensed her secrets slipping away.

“Something wrong?” Hollis asked softly.

Annie shook her head, afraid of what would come out if she spoke. “No.”

“For a minute there, you looked frightened.”

“No, not that.” Annie smiled at Callie, kneeling by Hollis’s hip. “Happy.”

“Yeah.” Hollis settled next to Annie, stretched her legs out on the grass, and handed Annie a burrito. “Happy can feel that way sometimes.” She opened her burrito and took a bite.

Annie ate in silence, occasionally wiping Callie’s chin with a paper napkin, feeling sublimely content. “I think I’m in heaven.”

“Me too,” Hollis said. “How did you know to do this?”

“I took a chance. When you didn’t come to clinic—”

“Oh cra—” Hollis glanced at Callie and bit off the curse. “I’m sorry. I got held up and I never thought—”

Annie slid her fingers down over the short sleeve of Hollis’s scrub shirt to her bare arm. Hollis’s skin was hot, the muscles underneath her fingertips solid. “It’s okay. I heard you were held up—Ned told me.”

Hollis frowned. “Ned? You went to clinic?”

“Yes. I spent the afternoon seeing patients with him. He’s very nice.”

“He is, sure.” Hollis frowned.

“What?”

“Sometimes he—”

“Mommy,” Callie said, “is it okay if I feed the ducks?”

“Remember the rules. Just a little bit.” Annie opened her bag handed Callie a small plastic bag filled with bird food. “Don’t throw it all in at once and don’t go anywhere except right in front of us.”

“I won’t.” Callie raced down the slope and squatted at the edge of the water, carefully opening the plastic bag and meticulously throwing one morsel of food at a time into the water.

“Sometimes he what?” Annie asked when Callie was out of hearing.

“Did he hit on you?”

Annie stared. Hollis looked angry. Jealous? A little frisson of pleasure shot through her. “No, of course not.”

“Why of course not? You’re beautiful, and Ned always notices beautiful women.”

“Well, he was perfectly professional.” Annie fussed with the remainders of the food, hoping to hide her confusion. She didn’t have any reason to want Hollis to be jealous, but she liked the possessive tone in her voice. She’d never felt anything like that in her life.

“So what did Ned say?” Hollis asked.

“I heard him talk to you on the phone just as I was leaving, and he said you’d been tied up all day. That’s all. Rough case?”

Hollis leaned back on her elbows and sighed. “Yeah. A routine—well, as routine as any section for me ever gets—went bad. A placenta previa.”

“Term?”

“Almost. Just diagnosed, so I scheduled her for an elective section this morning. Just got the baby out and all hell broke loose.” Hollis shook her head. “Blood everywhere. I couldn’t get the damn artery clamped and—” She grimaced. “Annie, I’m really sorry. I didn’t think. Talk about insensitive—”

“You’re anything but that.” Annie leaned onto her side, keeping one eye on Callie, and took Hollis’s hand. “Hollis, this is the business we’re in. You don’t have to apologize. I’m fine. Tell me.”

Hollis let out a breath. “Right. Anyhow, it didn’t go the way I wanted it to.”

“Are they all right?”

“I think so. The baby’s good. I spent the afternoon in the intensive care unit with the mother after surgery. She was unstable for a while and we had to transfuse her. She looked a lot better when I left an hour ago.”

“Did she—did you have to—”

“I got the bleeding stopped. I’m not sure it will ever be smart for her to get pregnant again, but that’s down the road.” Hollis squinted out across the water, her expression bleak. “I came within a hair of doing the hysterectomy, but when I called out to talk to her partner, she asked me to wait as long as I could.”

Annie caught her breath. Wait as long as she could. She tried to imagine the position Hollis must have been in—the patient bleeding, possibly in danger of dying, and a loved one asking her to wait as long as she could. How long was long enough? What was fair to everyone, and how did Hollis carry that burden?

“So you waited and it worked,” Annie said.

Hollis looked at her, her eyes worried. “It did, this time.”

“You must be happy, then.”

“Mostly I’m tired.” Hollis hesitated. “Look, Annie, there’s something you need to know about Ned.”

Annie frowned. “What?”

“Right after you and I first met, when you were so angry about the surgery I performed, I asked Ned to review your case. I didn’t think the two of you would likely cross paths—hell, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“What? I didn’t mean to breach your privacy—”

“No, not that.” Annie waved a hand impatiently. “I’m not embarrassed that he knows, although he never let on that he recognized me. Why did you ask him to look at my case?”

Hollis sighed. “I thought if you had an independent opinion you might feel better about the outcome. He said—”

“I don’t care what he said,” Annie said, the realization lifting a weight from her spirit. “You did what you thought you had to do.”