“Damn it, Walt. Doesn’t your mother know not to let sick people in here?” Walt’s grandfather, the original Dr. Walter Eddy, was as vibrant as he was old. At nearly eighty-three, his eyes were sharp and his hands were fast.
“I guess not.”
“You must be immune after all those strange places you go off to. Does he make you ill?” he asked Dakota with a wink.
“I haven’t . . . no.”
The man kept talking. “Give him time. ER medicine makes everyone sick from time to time. Great thing about the heart. Not contagious.”
Looked like Dr. Walter Eddy I wasn’t done preaching about the youngest Dr. Eddy joining the family practice.
“Damn boring after a while, though,” said Dr. Eddy Senior.
Or maybe not.
“I hear you write sexy books.”
Dakota didn’t have time to comment.
“That ought to get the heart pumping.”
Dakota turned to Walt, jumped when she felt a hand on her ass. When she turned, Dr. Eddy Senior was walking away.
Walt was laughing at his grandfather when Dakota whispered, “He just grabbed my butt.”
Walt’s laughter ebbed. “He didn’t.”
She tilted her head. “Would I lie?” Then she laughed.
Dr. Eddy Senior was already accosting another young woman.
“I’ll deck him later.”
“I can’t believe he is the great patriarch of this family.”
Walt shrugged. “My grandmother was his stability. When she passed, my dad took over the practice.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Sixteen years . . . I think. A long time.”
“Walter?” Someone called from behind them.
Dakota pasted on the smile that had been on her face all evening. Only Walt’s expression paled.
He turned and his words sounded dry. “Mrs. Adams.”
There wasn’t a hug, or even a handshake.
Mrs. Adams took a great interest in Dakota. The woman’s gaze moved over her slowly and left her bare. Without realizing she did so, Dakota moved closer to Walt. Only he held himself away just enough to wiggle a sense of insecurity in her veins.
“We really didn’t think you’d be here,” Mrs. Adams said.
Dakota waited for an introduction that didn’t seem to be coming.
Walt set his drink down on the table beside them, stood back.
Tension started to build as the seconds ticked by.
Dakota sought a pleasant face in the crowd, found Brenda nearby, and pleaded that she join them with a look.
A man approached Mrs. Adams’s side, his expression less than friendly.
When Walt’s hands started to clench, Dakota set her drink aside and placed a hand on his back.
He flinched, and she dropped her hand and stood back.
Mrs. Adams gaze stuck with Dakota. “She looks nothing like our Vivian.”
Brenda reached their side, offered a smile. “Hello, Harriett.”
The woman scowled.
Dakota wasn’t sure what was going on, but she hadn’t yet seen Walt this tense. Not even his parents placed as much stiffness in his spine as the couple in front of him did.
Mrs. Adams sucked in a deep breath and turned to the man at her side. “We should make our excuses.”
They started to walk away and Walt called out. “Lee?”
The man escorting Mrs. Adams away sneered. “We have nothing to say to you.”
Something inside Walt deflated, his shoulders slumped, his smile long gone from his lips.
For a brief moment, no one said anything. Walt stood motionless, and Brenda stared at her brother.
Dakota waited.
“That was ugly,” Brenda finally managed. “I don’t know why Mom invited them.”
“It’s OK, Brenda.”
“It’s not. They should have realized how that would play out.”
Dakota moved in, not willing to be left unaware of what had just happened, and why it had affected Walt so deeply. “Who were they?”
Brenda glanced at her briefly before returning her attention to her brother. “Vivian’s parents.”
Dakota’s practiced grin slid. A rock in her stomach started to grow. “Who’s Vivian?”
“Walt’s late wife.”
Late . . . what?
It took Dakota’s mind a moment to catch up with Brenda’s words. When Walt’s eyes found hers and a layer of ice closed over them, she understood.
Walt was a widower.
It’s strange how the head buzzes in times of stress. Lee’s retreating back parted old friends, those who knew the truth, and those who simply assumed. Most of those watching had no real idea what had happened and why.
Walt’s head started to pound.
“Walt?” He felt Dakota’s hand on his arm. A huge question sat behind her eyes but this wasn’t the time, or place, to tell her about Vivian. He’d hoped to avoid the conversation altogether.
“I’m . . . sorry you saw that,” he told Dakota.
She tilted her head. “What’s a little family drama?”
“There you are.” His mother approached from behind and Brenda jumped on her.
“How could you, Mom?”
JoAnne pushed closer, lowered her voice. “Harriett and Lee just excused themselves. What did you say to make them leave?”
Walt’s back teeth met up and threatened to break. “Your loyalty is astounding.”
Dakota squeezed his arm and stared at his mother. “I could use some fresh air. If you’ll excuse us, JoAnne.”