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Jecca held out the card to her.

Della read it but didn’t understand. “This was in that box of pencils? Some doctor wants to be an artist?” When Jecca said nothing, Della’s eyes brightened. “This is the ‘bad breakup’ guy, isn’t it?”

Jecca managed to nod.

“Looks like he opened an office here in New York,” Della said. “So?”

Jecca just stared at her.

“Go!” Della said. “Go now! This second.” She put the card in Jecca’s hand and shoved her toward the door. “Maybe if you get back with him you’ll stop weeping every time someone says the word love.”

“I don’t—” Jecca began but knew that she did.

Della was holding out Jecca’s bag to her. “And here, take this.” It was a red pencil.

Thirty seconds later, Jecca was out the front door and hailing a taxi.

By the time she got to Tristan’s office, her heart was pounding in her throat. What would she say to him? They’d had no contact since she’d run out on him that day in Edilean. What if—She could think of a thousand what-ifs, but he’d sent the card to her and he’d . . . He’d moved his practice to New York. That was the main thing.

There was a shiny brass plaque in the wall outside the office door. Tristan’s name was under another man’s, so it looked like he’d gone into practice with someone else.

She took a deep breath, wished she’d taken time to check her makeup, and opened the door. The first thing she saw were four truly beautiful young women sitting in the waiting room and flipping through magazines.

“Looks like I’m in the right place,” she said under her breath and went to the reception window. She wasn’t surprised to see two middle-aged women there.

The larger one looked Jecca up and down and seemed to say that she knew why she was there.

“I’d like to see Dr. Aldredge,” Jecca said.

“You have to have an appointment, and the first one available is in February.”

Jecca blinked at her. That was months away. “This is personal. He’ll want to see me.”

Behind her, she heard a sound and turned to look at the women sitting in the waiting room. All of them were looking at Jecca as though to say, Been there, tried that.

“It’s always personal,” the woman behind the window said. “Give me your name and you can see him in February.”

Jecca looked at the colored pencil in her hand. “Would you please give this to Tristan?”

“Sure,” the woman said and started to drop it into a pencil holder.

“Are you Jecca?” the other nurse asked.

“Yes.”

“Hang on, I’ll get him.”

The first woman looked Jecca up and down and obviously thought she wasn’t what she’d expected. But Jecca was pleased that they knew her name.

She stepped back from the window. There were no vacant chairs, so she stood against the wall. The other women were staring at her in curiosity.

When the door to the office opened and the young women sighed, Jecca knew Tristan was there. She stood up straight and held her breath.

He stepped forward, shut the door behind him, and looked around a moment before he saw her. He looked good, better than she remembered, and she knew that she loved him more than she thought possible.

“I didn’t quit being a doctor,” he said, “but I moved to where you are. If Joe can give up his hardware store, I can give up my town.”

She took a step toward him. “You didn’t call.”

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