“I’ve been wondering,” she started.
He found his own perch and started in on the design swimming in his head. “Wondering what?”
“How is it,” she pushed the knife into the side of her pumpkin and stood for what he assumed was leverage, “you are sitting here with me in South Carolina and not saving lives in California?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
He waited until the knife was deep into the skin of the pumpkin before he said, “I quit.”
The knife went still and she stopped to stare. “You what?”
“I . . . quit. I needed to find you . . . needed—”
Dakota dropped her hands, her jaw hit the floor. “How can you quit? You’re a doctor. Doctors can’t quit.”
“Fine, I took a leave of absence with no guarantee I’ll return.” He kept carving, knowing she was going to ask a dozen questions.
“Quitting your job to find me is crazy. Not to mention irresponsible.”
“Not when my dream job was offered to me only a couple of weeks ago.”
Her face softened. “Dream job?”
“With Borderless Doctors. It’s managerial a lot of the year with periods of instruction and of course long stints in the field during disasters. True emergency medicine.”
“That’s fantastic. When do you start?”
“I have to tell them I’m taking the job first.”
“Wait. You quit your job in Pomona and haven’t taken the next gig yet? Isn’t that risky? What if they hire someone else?” She’d pulled the knife from her pumpkin and was waving it in the air.
Walt risked losing a finger as he placed his hand over hers. “I was given until November to make my decision.”
“Oh, that’s . . . that’s good.”
She went back to carving and mumbled, “Where is this new job?”
“Europe,” he said, deadpan.
“Oh . . .”
She was trying so hard to hide her emotions Walt almost felt guilty for leading her on. “Or Florida . . . or Canada.”
“I don’t understand.”
He grinned. “I can do the job from anywhere, including South Carolina or California. The conferences and training take place all over the place, a lot in Florida. And the disasters . . . well, those can’t be determined until Mother Nature strikes.”
She pulled her knife and started waving again. “You did that on purpose.”
“Did what?”
“Had me wondering if you were leaving again.”
His smile faded. “Never. I’m not going anywhere. If you decided you wanted to move back here, then I’ll find an apartment. If you want to go back to California, then I’ll book a flight.” It was his turn to wave a knife. “You’re not raising our child alone. I promise you that.”
The sparkle in her eye said she believed him.
Chapter Twenty
“My mother is seething. The gossip mill hasn’t stopped chattering since I arrived and now that Walt is at the house daily to pick me up and drop me off, there is little doubt that the rumors are true.”
Mary managed a snort over the phone. “The rumors are true. Why doesn’t your mother just tell everyone to go to hell?”
“I’ve been trying to get her to say those exact words for weeks.” Dakota sat on the back porch, a blanket tucked around her legs and a sweater warding off the fall chill. Not that it was overly cold, but fall had officially arrived. The fresh air helped clear away some of the morning sickness that started to ease earlier in the day.
“How long are you going to stay there anyway?”
Dakota had been asking herself the same question. “I have another appointment with the OB doc next week. If the blood pressure is still down I’ll probably come home.”
“And if the blood pressure is still high?”
Dakota sighed. “I’ll probably stay. Even if everything continues to go well with Walt and I, he could be called away at any time. At some point he needs to start his new job and that will mean two weeks in Florida.”
“How are things with you two?”
“Good.”
“Just good?” Mary asked. “Not crazy wonderful, amazing? Just good?”
Dakota snuggled into her blanket, a silly smile spread on her face. She thought of how she’d fallen asleep in Walt’s lap the night before while they watched TV on her parents’ couch. She’d drooled all over his pants, and woke only when he attempted to slide out from under her sometime after one in the morning. He’d kissed her softly, quietly, and told her he’d see her in the morning. “He’s almost always here, or taking me somewhere where we can talk and plan. It isn’t like when we were first dating. This is deeper somehow. Comfortable, dependable. You know what’s really crazy?”
“What’s that?”
“We’re not sleeping together.”
Mary paused. “Really?”
“We’re not. I’m not even sure why we’re not. He holds me, kisses me, and there are times I think he wants to rip off my clothes and take me against the wall, but then he pulls away.”
“Have you talked about it?”
“No. You don’t think he’s turned off by the pregnancy, do you?”
“Is that what you think?” Mary asked.
Gotta love Mary, the psychologist in her was always close at hand.