50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [86]
He remained uncommunicative while she continued to speak in even tones that belied her physical response to him. She wasn’t sure how to tell a man who worked in a barn how badly she missed his scent. She didn’t realize it until she caught a whiff of fresh alfalfa and what she suspected was a combination of man and horse.
Neither of them spoke during the next three sutures. Linnette wanted to ask if he’d thought of her at all, but she feared the answer even more than the question. After the cold way she’d treated him, he didn’t want anything more to do with her; she was convinced of it. Still, she felt she had to say something else.
“I, uh, wondered if I’d see you again,” she said as she tied off the last of the sutures.
Once more he left her comment hanging. She wrapped the wound and gave him instructions on taking care of it. Cal worked with his hands so he’d have to be extra careful to keep the cut clean and protected.
In his eagerness to escape, he all but vaulted out of his seat when she stopped speaking.
“Cal,” she said sternly before he could bolt.
Exasperated, he turned back. “What?”
“You’ll need a follow-up appointment.”
“Why?”
“I’ll need to remove those stitches and inspect the cut.”
He whirled away, prepared to leave again.
This time Linnette stepped in front of the door, blocking his exit. “It’s important to have that looked at in about a week.” He stood no more than a foot away. His presence nearly overwhelmed her and she thought her heart might stop beating. He seemed to be staring straight through her. She hoped he was; then he’d know she was sincere. If her eyes told him anything, she wanted it to be an apology—wanted him to know she regretted the things she’d said and done at their last meeting.
Neither moved until it became apparent that there was someone on the other side of the door. Linnette shifted as Sally came into the room and nearly collided with Cal.
“Sally, Mr. Washburn will need a follow-up appointment,” she said, her throat so tight the words came out sounding strangled.
“Uh, sure thing.” Sally regarded her closely. She knew as well as Linnette did that such appointments were handled by the receptionist and not the nursing staff. “Come with me, Mr. Washburn.”
“I’ll see you later,” Linnette forced out the words as Cal walked past her.
Again he didn’t respond to her or the unspoken plea evident in her remark.
When Cal strode into the waiting area, with Sally trotting behind him, Linnette felt she needed to sit down. Strangely, she yearned to run after him and demand to know if he’d kissed other women the way he’d kissed her. It was a ridiculous question and since she’d already made a fool of herself once today, she figured that was her limit.
Once she regained her composure, she walked out to the receptionist’s desk and looked over Marilyn’s shoulder. “Did Cal Washburn make a follow-up appointment?” she asked.
“The man who came in with the cut hand?”
“That’s him. He didn’t, did he?” Linnette wasn’t sure why she bothered to ask. She would’ve been shocked if he had. Cal had made it as plain as possible; he wasn’t interested in seeing her again.
“No,” Marilyn said. “Sally tried to talk him into it, but he said he could take the stitches out himself.”
“Linnette.”
Chad called her and, surprised, she turned to face him. “I was hoping to see you when you’ve got a free moment.”
“Right now is fine,” she said and even managed to sound professional.
Chad touched her shoulder, guiding her to the side of the hallway that led to the cubicles and the surgery. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”
He didn’t quite meet her eyes, which told her this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“Is there a problem with my work?” This was her immediate concern, although she couldn’t think of a single incident in which her ability as a P.A. might be questioned.
“No, no, nothing like that.” Still he hesitated. “Perhaps we could get a cup of coffee after work.”
Had he asked her this as little as three weeks ago, she would’ve leapt at the