Mari forced a smile. “Not guilty! Maybe she’s finally decided to trust the rest of us to take care of things all by ourselves.”

“If she has, it’ll be the first time ever.” Abby laughed. “But I do think it says a lot she’s giving up a little control when you’re on call. She obviously respects your judgment.”

“I hope so,” Mari said, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. She’d amply demonstrated just how bad her judgment was in Glenn’s bedroom. Still, she trusted Glenn not to let their personal crossed signals impact their professional relationship. Glenn was too clearheaded and much too honest for that. “She sets some pretty high standards for everyone.”

“None more than for herself,” Abby said, “but you meet them just fine. Oh, by the way, Presley reminded me to let you know you’re invited to the wedding. She just assumed you knew that, and then realized you ought to get a formal invitation. Consider this formal.”

“Oh, but I hardly know anyone!”

“Hey, you’re part of the planning committee now. You have to be there.”

“Then yes,” Mari said softly, “I’d love to come.”

“Great! Carrie will fill you in on the specifics.” Abby waved and turned to go. “Have fun this weekend.”

Mari didn’t answer. She didn’t have the energy to pretend any longer.

*

Mari changed into jeans, a lime-green ribbed tank top, and sneakers in the locker room and tried not to look for Glenn as she walked through the ER on her way out. She couldn’t really help herself, even though Glenn wasn’t on call and, of course, was not around. Hope was hardest to kill when you didn’t actually want to feel any.

Traffic was heavier than usual on a weekend morning, and as she approached the unofficial commons, a grassy three-square-block area in the center of town where people frequently sunbathed or sat about on blankets picnicking or simply relaxing, a huge red hot-air balloon with brilliant blue and yellow stripes lofted into the sky. A roar went up from somewhere just ahead and drew her in that direction. The quiet commons had been transformed. A carnival-like atmosphere encompassed the place—adults congregated with cups of coffee while dogs and children ran about. Food tents offering hot breakfasts, fresh baked goods, and luscious-looking fruit ringed half the square, and half a dozen balloons in various stages of inflation were tethered in the center. A big sign announced the two-day balloon festival. She didn’t know how she’d missed news of the event, but working nights had given her a good excuse to avoid everyone all week.

Now the tantalizing smell of bacon frying drew her to a tent, and she purchased an egg and bacon sandwich on a fresh-baked biscuit. She actually felt hungry for the first time in a week.

“Thanks,” she said, balancing the sandwich in one hand and a cardboard cup of coffee in the other. She turned and almost stumbled into Glenn. “Oh!”

Glenn jumped back, avoiding the coffee slosh. “Hi. You okay? Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“No, I’m fine. Hi.” Mari stared just to make sure Glenn wasn’t an apparition, considering how hard she’d been wishing she’d run into her. She was dressed in running shorts and a sleeveless V-neck T-shirt. Her hair was damp, her skin lightly misted, and the T-shirt plastered to her chest. She’d been running hard. “Hi.”

God, she was repeating herself.

“I saw you across the field,” Glenn said. “Just get off shift?”

“Uh-huh.” Mari stepped out of the way of a man and woman who wanted to order breakfast.

“Well, I guess I should let you go,” Glenn said awkwardly, backing up a step. “You must be tired.”

“No,” Mari said quickly, “I’m not. I was just getting something to eat. You want something?”

Glenn hesitated and Mari thought she was about to say no. But she nodded after a second. “Yeah, sure if you could lend me some money. I’m light today.”

“My treat. Bacon and eggs okay?”

“Actually,” Glenn said, breaking into a grin, “it sounds fabulous.”

Mari handed over hers. “Here. Take this one. I’ll get another. Coffee?”

“Yeah, please. I’ll grab us a table over by the trees.”

“Great. Just be a sec.” Mari turned away quickly so she didn’t give herself away. Excitement raced through her and she knew her delight in running into Glenn was written all over her face. She really didn’t want to repeat her meltdown of the week before. Really, really didn’t.

*

Mari carried the sandwich and two fresh cups of coffee back to the wooden picnic table Glenn had staked out beneath two tall pine trees. The little shade was welcome. The day promised to be hot and was getting there fast. The square was even more crowded than twenty minutes before. The bright sunny day seemed so fresh and simple. Or maybe she was just happy. Whatever the cause, she intended to enjoy it.

She also intended to enjoy the fact Glenn watched her as she walked toward her. The press of Glenn’s gaze slid over her face and down her body and made her tingle. She loved the way Glenn looked at her, as if she was the only person on Glenn’s horizon. Foolish, she knew, but the feeling of being so central, so valued, struck a chord in her that made her whole body hum.

“Here—let me help.” Glenn rose and took one of the coffees. “I owe you big-time for this.”

“I’ll have to think of some suitable method of repayment,” Mari teased.

Glenn paused, her half-eaten sandwich in her hand. “You do that.”

Mari blushed and pretended to be busy with the sandwich she no longer cared if she ate. Her hunger had suddenly shifted to something far more visceral, and far more dangerous. Glenn looked so damn sexy she ached to touch her.

They sat across from one another, the coffee and sandwiches between them, and ate in silence for a few minutes. The silence felt anything but empty. Mari imagined she could feel the very air crackling between them as if at any moment sparks might burst and jump from her skin to Glenn’s.

“How did you find the night shift?” Glenn asked.

Thankfully, a safe topic. “About what I expected. Eleven o’clock seems to be the witching hour until about one. And then of course, at six it starts all over again. I kind of liked it. I felt really in charge.”

Glenn nodded. “There’s something different about nights. It’s not just the stillness that comes over the hospital, because it’s just as busy, really, but there’s always this sense of anticipation underneath the calm. That anything could come through the door at any minute, and you’re it. It’s all on you.”

“You like that, don’t you? The anticipation. The not knowing what will test you next.”

“You’d think I would’ve learned not to look for that kind of thing, wouldn’t you, but I never lost it. Even when what was coming might kill me, I had that buzz of excitement.”

Mari caught her breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you enjoyed that kind of danger.”

“It’s okay. I don’t have nightmares about it, at least not when I’m sleeping.”

“But when you’re awake?”

Glenn sighed. “Not even that so much. You don’t have to dream about what you carry around with you. It’s always just there. This itch between your shoulder blades that something’s coming, something you can’t stop, something you might not be able to fix.”

“Are you afraid?”

Glenn’s brows drew down. “No. Maybe angry.” She scoffed. “I’d just like to be able to see what I’m fighting, and that never really happens.”

“Maybe that’s why you like to spend so much time in the emergency room. Because then you know. It’s right there and you can see it.”

“You might be right. But I’m not really sure it matters.”

“No, neither am I. You’ve taken something that you shouldn’t have to live with and turned it into something positive. I’m sorry that you’ve had to do that, but I think you should be proud.”

“Thanks.” Glenn stared down at her hands clasping the cup. “It matters what you think.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Mari said softly.

“Do you have plans this morning?”

The question threw her and she didn’t have an answer, so she didn’t try to think, she just went with what felt right. “No. I’m not working again until Monday. Then I’m switching back to days. I suppose my biggest plans for the day were laundry and vacuuming my rug. It’s a pretty small rug.”

Glenn grinned. “Can’t say that was on my list of things to do.” She stood up. “You mind waiting here for a few minutes?”

“Sure. It’s a beautiful day and I’ve been inside all night.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No!” The last thing she was was tired. Just being around Glenn was exhilarating. She felt better, more alive and more eager for what the day might bring, than she had been all week. “I’m great. Take whatever time you need.”

Glenn paused beside her and touched her shoulder, as if reassuring herself Mari really would stay. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll be back.”

“I’ll wait.” Mari watched her as she ran across the field to the corner and disappeared. They weren’t very far from Glenn’s apartment, and she suspected Glenn was going home to change. She didn’t know why and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Glenn said she was coming back. And if she said she was coming back, she would.

Twelve minutes later she appeared—Mari checked her watch when she saw Glenn striding across the green in black jeans and a snowy white T-shirt, her hair slicked back and damp. She looked even better than she had a few minutes before. She grinned and Mari knew she’d been caught looking. Not just looking—wanting. Too late to pretend otherwise.

When Glenn drew near, she held out her hand. “Come on.”

Mari didn’t even ask where they were going. She didn’t really care. She took Glenn’s hand and fell in beside her, the clasp of her fingers warm and reassuring and as natural as anything she’d ever experienced. When questions tried to surface in her mind, she resolutely put them aside. For the first time in a week, she was happy.

Chapter Twenty-three

“I suppose I should’ve asked you,” Glenn said. “Do you mind heights?”

Mari frowned as they walked across the green, slowing every few feet so Glenn could return a greeting. For someone so reserved, so private, Glenn had touched many lives. She was woven into the fabric of this place and Mari knew why. Glenn cared for the community as much as she cared for the individuals. This was a place where roots ran deep and Glenn had found her place, somewhere she might do the same, if she was lucky. She just wished she believed more in luck. Glenn was waiting for an answer, and looking at her, it was easy to forget the past and its hold on her life. Mari smiled. “Heights? You mean like tall bridges and rooftops? No, they don’t bother me. We’ve got plenty of overpasses in LA, and I’ve ridden over all of them. Major metropolis, remember?”

“Well, this won’t be exactly like that, but hopefully better.” Glenn grabbed her hand and pulled her down a narrow passage between a jumble of air compressors, tanks, and other equipment into a clearing relatively free of people.

A heavyset, florid-faced man in a bright yellow T-shirt tucked into oil-smeared canvas pants strode toward them. “You’re all set?”

“Yeah,” Glenn said.

He held out a clipboard. “I need you both to sign these waivers right here. You know, the usual. You won’t sue me if we all end up in a tree somewhere.”

Glenn signed without bothering to read anything and handed the clipboard to Mari. “Frank is going to take us up for a ride.”

Mari looked at the huge tangle of ropes and yellow-and-red-striped canvas lying on the ground. It looked exactly like an enormous deflated balloon. Which it was. “In that?”

Her voice squeaked and Glenn laughed. “Once he pumps a little air into it and fires up the boiler, yes.”

“You’re serious?”

“You’re not scared, are you?”

Oh yes, she was, but not of going up in a hot-air balloon. She’d never done it before, never even imagined wanting to do it, but if Glenn was going to be there, she wanted to go too. And that’s what scared her. She wanted to go anywhere Glenn wanted to take her.

Mari looked at the other balloons lifting off around them, most with one or two people aboard who looked like they were actually piloting the craft. Really, how crazy was that—relying on a sheet of cloth tied to an open furnace to fly around in. Frank and another younger man in jeans and a red T-shirt turned on an enormous fan, and the long sheet of colorful canvas began to fill and float above them. Mari was intrigued despite her misgivings. When Frank arranged something that looked a lot like a giant Sterno can under the balloon and lit an open flame, Mari gasped. Flames shot up toward the canvas balloon, which suddenly puffed up and went airborne. Long lines attached to large stakes in the ground kept it prisoner.