“Emma didn’t mention anything about that,” Neil said, sounding concerned. “Her vitals during the exam were excellent. She’s the picture of health. Are you sure about this?”

“That’s why I’m bringing it all up. Emma is convinced she’s cured of the disorder.”

“That’s impossible,” Neil said unequivocally. “There must be a misunderstanding. Thalassemia is a genetic condition. It’s not a curable disease.”

“I understand that. I looked it up myself. That’s why I’m asking you to check her blood work for indications of the condition, in addition to the other tests we talked about. Like I said, Emma is convinced she doesn’t have the disorder anymore.”

“All right,” Neil said slowly. “I’m confused, though. I spoke to her quite a bit during her exam. Emma seems bright, and she’s very knowledgeable as a nurse. She should know thalassemia is a genetic disorder. It’s not something that can be cured by a pill or something. Why wouldn’t she have mentioned any of this to me?”

“I think she’s learned not to speak of it,” Vanni said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder so that he could straighten his tie. “People don’t believe her.”

“That’s not surprising,” Neil said. Vanni paused in jerking his tie when he heard the concern in Neil’s voice.

“Neil? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll order the test, Vanni, if you think it’s important. It’s just . . .”

“What?” Vanni demanded, his skin prickling with wariness.

“I don’t know that it’s a good sign one way or another, for you to be so anxious about this girl’s health.”

A prolonged silence fell. Vanni dropped his hand and stared blankly out the window.

“You think I’m being paranoid about Emma? Because she’s the first woman I’ve shown any real interest in since Meredith?” Vanni asked, knowing precisely what Neil was hinting at.

“The thought did cross my mind, yes. It’s not every day you bring a lovely young woman like that to my office.”

Vanni closed his eyes and waited for the upsurge of emotion that usually occurred when the topic of his dead wife arose—when the topic of death in general came up. Neil was one of the few people on the planet who knew how death seemed to have singled out Vanni to plague him, always taking and taking those he loved, always leaving him to suffer the barren landscape of life alone.

But no stabbing pain came this time as he thought of the short time he’d shared with Meredith. He inhaled a full breath of air. The only thing he experienced was a genuine wish to find out if Emma was well.

“This situation has nothing to do with Meredith or the reason I brought Meredith to you. This has to do with Emma, and Emma alone. She’ll be the first to admit she’s an eternal optimist. She believes wholeheartedly that she had this disease and was cured of it miraculously. I just want to check on the facts, that’s all. I want to make sure she’s well.”

“And if she’s not?” Neil asked. Vanni heard the worry in his tone.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’d rather she know than not know, wouldn’t you?”

“Are you sure it’s not your knowledge of whether or not she has a life-threatening condition that you’re concerned about, Vanni?” Neil asked.

“I just want to know. Period,” Vanni replied flatly.

He heard the physician exhale. “Then you will. I’ll let you know as soon as I get the results.”

After he’d hung up with Neil, he stood from his seat and looked up another number on his phone.

“New Horizon Hospice, how may I help you?” a friendly female asked.

“I’d like to speak with the nurse supervisor, Mrs. Ring?” Vanni said, lifting his briefcase. A moment later, Mrs. Ring came on the line and greeted him warmly.

“I’m calling about one of your nurses, Emma Shore,” he said, nodding at Marco as he passed him on the way out of the plane. “I’ve been very impressed by her work ethic and was wondering if I might be able to borrow her from you for a few weeks in the near future?”

That Saturday, Emma left the premises of the electronic repair shop situated in the charming downtown of Cedar Bluff. Ever since Vanni had given her that last toe-curling kiss in his car on Monday morning before he’d dropped her off and left for France, she’d been obsessed with checking things off her to-do list. She’d told herself it was just time to get her life in order, but privately, she knew her recent obsession with organization was a coping skill. She was filling the days of Vanni’s absence, marking time until she could see him again next week. He’d said he’d call her Monday evening when he arrived in Chicago. That promise was like a huge red exclamation mark on her mental calendar.

Ever since he’d left her, she’d managed to drop off all her dry cleaning, pay all the bills, finish her grocery shopping for two weeks, drop off three large bags of old clothes she’d been planning to take to the Salvation Army, and now take her long-broken stereo in to have it fixed.

All of that, and she still missed him so much it was like a hard knot had been tied off in her chest.

To make matters worse, he clearly didn’t miss her at all. He hadn’t called once since he’d dropped her off after their extremely passionate, emotion-ridden time together. Or at least it’d been emotion-ridden for her.

He hadn’t said he would call until he returned.

Still . . . she’d hoped he would. Stupidly. Now that the week of his absence was drawing to a close, she no longer hoped.

But she still ached.

She could have called him as well, she acknowledged fairly as she walked down the street, fingering the angel at her throat. She had his number. Somehow, however, the idea of speaking to him on the phone while he was so many thousands of miles away only made her ache even more.

“Emma!” a woman called.

Emma spun around, peering down the block. She broke into a grin at the sight of a familiar face. She gave the young woman who rushed toward her an enthusiastic hug.

“Hi! I didn’t realize you were coming this weekend,” Emma greeted her friend, Jamie Forrester. She’d gone to nursing school with Jamie. Jamie had gotten married last year and moved to Green Bay with her new husband, although Jamie and she still stayed in touch.

“Scott has a meeting in the city Monday morning, so we just came down for a few nights,” Jamie explained, tucking an errant brown curl behind her ear. “Besides,” Jamie continued in a more confidential tone, “my dad had a medical scare last week. They took him to the emergency room with chest pains. They thought it was a heart attack, but it turned out it was just indigestion. Still, it scared Mom and me. I just wanted to see for myself that he’s okay.”

“That’s understandable,” Emma said, concern tightening her features. She’d met Jamie’s parents several times and liked the warm, friendly couple very much. “Please give Mort my best and tell your mother hello. Are you sure he’s all right? He works too hard.”

“Once a cop, always a cop,” Jamie said, grinning. “But why don’t you come and say hello yourself. I’m meeting my dad over at Joe’s,” she said, pointing at the coffee shop just yards away. “He’d love to see you. He was just asking about you last night. We’ll catch up over a cup of coffee.”

“I’d love that,” Emma agreed.

They found Mort Forrester sitting at a booth in the coffee shop, with a laptop and cup of coffee in front of him. Emma couldn’t help but smile at his likeable appearance—a man with the girth of a linebacker and a graying blond crew cut peering through a pair of nerdy-cool tortoiseshell Poindexter-style glasses while he punched away at his keyboard with thick, round fingers.

“You promised Mom you weren’t going to work this weekend,” Jamie scolded her father. “Look who I found out on the street.”

Mort did a double take upon seeing Emma, grinned broadly, and stood to give her a big hug.