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“I think maybe you do,” I snapped.
“Whatever.”
With that, he turned back to the fledgling palm tree, leaving me to grapple with a storm of emotions. Frustration surged through me, and my head pounded with my racing pulse. Hunter’s words echoed in my head, urging caution, but he wasn’t here. Ben Coleridge might deny any wrongdoing, but I wasn’t ready to let this go.
Gritting my teeth, I stalked off, then veered toward another landscaper who was filling in dirt around a newly planted croton. “Excuse me,” I called out to a wiry man and doing my best to be polite. His nametag read Marcus. He halted, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Ms. Markham.” His greeting was cautious but polite.
“Have you seen anything strange around here? We’ve had some things go missing.” Though he must have overheard my tense conversation with Ben, I kept my tone even, not wanting to seem too accusatory.
Marcus shook his head, his eyes reflecting sincerity, or what I hoped was sincerity. “No, ma’am. We come here, do our work, and leave everything as it is. No touching.”
“Are you sure? You’ve seen nothing?” Frustration seeped into my words, despite my efforts to contain it.
“Believe me, we wouldn’t risk our jobs,” he said firmly before returning to his task. His denial did little to assuage my suspicion. Of course the crew would speak up for each other.
I whirled toward Ben, who worked a short distance away. “My family has let you continue working here despite?—”
“Despite what? My last name?” His eyes flashed with a mix of challenge. It was clear that Dove Key hadn’t offered him the fresh start he’d hoped for. “Maybe I was a fool for thinking it’d be different this time.”
“Maybe you were,” I shot back. “Having things disappear isn’t exactly helping your case, you know.”
“Yeah, well, neither is accusing people of things they didn’t do,” Ben replied without looking at me, his voice laced with a bitterness that made me bristle. “Should have known better than to expect more from a Markham.” The way he sneered our family name made my breath catch.
“Take it easy, Ben.” The foreman, a stocky man named Walt, approached with a protective stance, like a bear guarding his territory. “Miss Markham.” He nodded in my direction. “I can assure you, we don’t hire thieves. Ben has done good work for me.”
“We’ve had several items go missing since you guys started working,” I pointed out, my voice steady despite the frustration boiling within me. “Someone took them.”
“Then look elsewhere because my guys are clean.” Walt crossed his arms over his chest, his crewcut almost bristling. Every line of his body spoke of unwavering conviction, challenging me to argue further.
But I knew a brick wall when I saw one. A united brick wall. “Fine. Thank you for your time,” I said evenly, while biting back the words that wanted to escape.
Then I spun on my heel. Leaving the gardeners to their tasks, I could feel the weight of their stares on my back. A mixture of anger and helplessness churned inside me as I walked away. I hadn’t expected Ben to just fall to his knees and confess, but I felt better having had my say. Now he was on notice.
I marched to the front of the restaurant, where my eye caught the beautiful Phalaenopsis Aiden had found at the farmer’s market. The other sat across the entryway, and both were stunning additions. I took several minutes to calm myself, closing my eyes and listening to the gentle rhythm of the waves against the shore. Finally, I entered the kitchen and nodded to the two prep workers hard at work for tonight’s service. Slowly, methodically chopping potatoes, Matt was coming along well. I patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Nice job with those. Your knife skills are really coming along.”
Glancing up briefly, he shot me a smile. “Thanks, Chef. I’m getting faster every day.”
I grabbed a scoop of ice and pushed through the double doors into the empty dining room. Could Ben be innocent? The timing was too much to ignore, but maybe it was someone else on the crew. I shook my head. What better way to keep a low profile than by convincing everyone you’ve changed?
Continuing the therapy I’d started outside, I stopped before a beautiful specimen of Oncidium, its delicate pink blossoms ready to dance away. I placed an ice cube in the pot, letting the soothing, familiar motions of tending to my orchids distract me from my troubles.
Chapter Fifteen
Aiden
The weight of the day crashed down on me as I flopped into my chair in the quiet of my office. The last patient had left, and the clinic grew silent as my staff left. My hands, steady from years of medical training, now betrayed a slight tremor as I rubbed my face, trying to wipe away the exhaustion.
I thought about Mrs. Jonas, the seventy-year-old dynamo who used to organize neighborhood block parties during my childhood. Time hadn’t been kind to her. She’d hobbled into my clinic today, a shadow of her former vivacious self and her face lined with pain. But at least this second conversation about her hip had gone better than the first. She finally agreed to see a surgeon in Marathon about a hip replacement.
“You know best, Dr. Aiden,” she’d said with a trust that felt like a warm blanket on a cold night.
As I stared at the darkening sky through my window, my mind wandered. Once upon a time, I might have been the one performing her surgery. But life had had other plans, and here I was, in this small-town clinic instead of a chilly surgical suite. If things had turned out differently… I shook my head, trying to dislodge the what-ifs.
Nearly every day, my interactions with patients made it clear that I wasn’t the only one who had changed in the past fifteen-plus years. Unfortunately, most of their changes weren’t for the better. Informing them of bad news was a part of the job, but one I’d struggled with more than I thought I would. But dealing with loss was inevitable for a small-town doctor who saw patients through all phases of life. And I was learning to let the victories outshine the more troubling interactions I had with my neighbors.
The clock on the wall ticked, and I needed something—anything—to lift my spirits. Which of course sent my mind racing to Stella. And the feel of her lips under mine. A smile rose on my face to find I was stroking my mouth with one finger. She had taken my confession as well as I could have hoped for, and my soul now felt lighter for the telling. As a grown man with the experience of many years behind me, the stupid boy I’d been seemed inexplicable.
