Chapter One
Saturday in mid-August, a week before Maya Daire’s wedding…
With her phone at her ear, Emma Guthrie strolled along the rocky shoreline of Campbell Lake. She pulled her doctor’s coat closed with her other hand because the wind blowing off the water had a hint of a chill to it as the sun began to set. Unseasonably cool temperatures had reached this part of the state, and when she’d seen the forecast she’d decided it was a perfect weekend to go camping. So did half of Divine, Texas, if the campground full of tents and occupied cabins was a good indicator. Feeling a slight chill, she shifted her cell phone to her other ear and tucked her forearm beneath her breasts to keep the coat closed.
“Emma, we could really use your help with this quilt fundraiser,” her friend Jane Herbert said. Emma couldn’t sew to save her life. She’d gotten together with Jane on several occasions with this group but didn’t think it was a good fit. All they did was gossip. It didn’t escape her notice that all the women in the group hovered around the same age as her and were all single.
Searching for an excuse to get out of another dose of their negativity, Emma replied, “Jane, your friends seem nice but…”
With the know-it-all tone that Emma was usually able to ignore, Jane said, “Is this about that comment Tabitha made? She’s right, you know. When one woman steals three eligible bachelors in town it makes it harder for the rest of us—”
Emma cut her off, not wanting to hear the same rant again. “Not going there with you, Jane. The conversation deteriorated from Tabitha’s catty little remark into pure gossip.” Tabitha wouldn’t have stood a snowball’s chance in Hell of catching one of the Warner brothers for herself. “And in case you haven’t forgotten, Maya Daire may be coming on as my RN in September, and I don’t appreciate my employees being gossiped about in front of me.”
Jane let loose with a big, gusty sigh and replied, “I know. I’ll talk to her. You know it’s really her boss, Clay Cook, who she’s interested in anyway.”
Emma thought Clay was a big sweetheart and couldn’t imagine how his life would be if he were married to someone like Tabitha. Unfortunately, Emma had no choice but to decline when Grace had offered to set the two of them up. Emma treated Clay for allergies regularly, and she never dated her patients.
Jane broke into her thoughts, unable to let the invitation go unanswered. “Will you please come Tuesday night? Please?”
Hoping that some emergency would keep her at work, she said, “All right. But only because you’re my friend.”
Emma looked out over the water, glanced back at the activity in the campground, and felt completely alone. Lately, Emma felt more and more as though she were missing out on life. She kept busy with activities Jane presented them with in her off time, but she was growing increasingly lonely. Maybe it was because several of her friends had recently gotten married and started having kids. She felt like an old maid sometimes, like she was approaching her expiration date.
“I’ll always be your friend, Emma. Even when we’re old spinsters together,” Jane said affectionately. She’d said “when,” not “if,” and it caught Emma off guard. Was she that far into spinsterhood? She didn’t own any cats yet, but she’d been thinking about it, at Jane’s suggestion. “Well, I’ve got to run. Mr. Snookums wants his din-din.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Okay, talk to you later.”
Other people were walking along the shoreline, skipping flat stones across the water. For a second, she facetiously considered flinging her phone out over the water just to see how many times it would skip before it sank to the bottom but then slid it back into the pocket of her scrubs. She’d been hearing from Jane an awful lot lately.
“Spinsters,” she said with a snort. “Who said I wanted to be a spinster?” Jane made it sound like a good thing.
Emma knew if she kept on the way she was, that’s exactly how she’d wind up. Her life revolved around the clinic, and even though she had time in the evenings, she rarely went out unless it was with Jane.
When Emma thought about going out someplace on her own, like a nightclub, it made her feel squirmy and uncomfortable. What would she do with herself? What if no one talked to her? Worse yet, what if a man talked to her and she stuck her foot in her mouth? As a doctor, she could hold her own in a professional conversation, but when it came to social settings she was about as awkward as she could get.
Dressing up was another issue because there was only so much that could be done with her plain, pale exterior, and she never felt like she did a very good job applying makeup. Her pitiful efforts usually just left her feeling more self-conscious. Her scrubs and white coat had become her daily uniform regardless of where she had to go.