“Good job. Listen,” Robin said, “how good are you at volleyball?”

“Huh, I don’t know. I haven’t played since high school, and it wasn’t really my game then.”

“But you’ve played before?”

“Like I said—about a million years ago.”

“Well, that’s about a million years more recent than most of the people here. You’re on my team.”

“Actual—”

Before Hollis could protest or come up with a plausible excuse, Robin was already powering around the yard, tapping people on the shoulder. It appeared she was going to have to play volleyball.

Forty minutes later, her T-shirt was soaked, her hair was matted to her neck, and their side was up two points. Robin was relentless, coaching the team with a combination of enthusiasm and dire predictions as to what might happen if they lost. Mostly it sounded like no one would get anything to eat if they weren’t victorious, and at the moment, that was inspiration enough. Hollis was starving.

The serve came her way, she set the ball, and Quinn spiked it for a point. Robin yelled, “One more point.” Kids ran around the perimeter of the court, cheering on their parents. Hollis heard her name called and glanced to her right. Callie, in a bright yellow sundress and green sneakers, waved and Hollis grinned.

“Hey, Callie.” She looked for Annie but didn’t see her. “Where’s your—” A hard thud against her temple knocked her off balance and she went down. She rolled onto her back and tried to figure out what had just happened. The grass smelled sweetly of crushed clover and white fluffy clouds swirled overhead.

“Holy crap!” Robin leaned over her. “You really got nailed. You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. I guess I should’ve been watching the game.” Hollis rubbed her temple and felt a tender area as big as a lemon above her left eye. “Smarts.”

“Hey, Hollis,” Honor said, kneeling on her other side. “That was pretty impressive. Except I think when you hit the ball with your head you’re supposed to be aiming for it to go back over the net. Or maybe that’s soccer. How’s your vision?”

“All systems go.” Hollis pushed up to a sitting position. “Really, I’m fine. I just got caught by surprise, that’s all.”

“Well, we better put some ice on it.” Honor cupped Hollis’s chin and tilted her face up, studying her intently. “I think you’re going to have a shiner.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous.” Hollis pushed to her feet and swayed, a little bit dizzy.

“Whoa.” Robin grasped her arm. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, really, I am.” Hollis felt like an idiot, happy now that Annie wasn’t there. How uncool could she be?

“Well, at least sit in the shade and I’ll get some ice,” Robin said.

“No, I can get it. You have a game to win.” Hollis gave Robin a little push toward the field. “I don’t want everybody on our side to go hungry just because I wasn’t paying attention.”

“If you’re sure,” Robin said.

“I’m sure. Really, I’m fine.” Hollis hurried off the field so the game could continue and spied Callie staring at her with an uncertain expression. She knelt down beside her. “Hi, Callie. I wasn’t watching the game and I got smacked with the ball, but I’m okay.”

“It knocked you down.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Well, it stings a little bit, but it’ll be fine. Where’s your mom?”

“She had a baby call last night. I stayed with Suzy and Dan and Gillian and Mark. I came with them.”

“Having fun?”

“Yes. I’m going swimming soon.”

“That’s great.” The wave of disappointment was back, stronger than before. Hollis didn’t know what to make of it. She liked Annie and looked forward to seeing her, but the intensity of her reaction wasn’t like her. “I’m going to go get some ice. You have a good time today, okay?”

“Okay.”

Hollis found an empty lounge chair and, after securing a few ice cubes in a plastic bag, stretched out and pressed the makeshift cold compress to her forehead. It helped with the sting, but not the embarrassment. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get smacked by the ball. Her head throbbed, but she actually felt pretty good. The exertion had been a welcome switch-up from her usual workout on the bike, and she’d enjoyed being part of the team. She closed her eyes and drifted in the sunshine. When a weight on the lounge signaled someone had settled beside her, she opened her eyes. Annie smiled down at her. Hollis’s heart gave a little jog.

“Hi,” Hollis said.

“Hi yourself.” Annie pushed the cold compress away from Hollis’s forehead and studied her seriously. “Callie told me you got hurt. Are you all right?”

“I’m not really hurt,” Hollis said hastily, dropping the icepack on the grass by the chair. She pushed her damp hair out of her face. “Just a silly accident. Nothing much.”

“Hmm,” Annie said, lightly tracing the bruise on Hollis’s face. “I think you might be understating things. You’ve got a lump on your forehead and your upper eyelid is starting to turn purple.”

Hollis held very still. She didn’t want Annie to stop stroking her. The light caress sent tendrils of heat streaming through her. “All from a friendly backyard game.”

Annie laughed. “I’ve been watching some of that game. If I didn’t know they were all friends, I wouldn’t believe it. Talk about competitive.”

“Well, I guess you have to consider the crowd. Pretty much everybody here is competitive by nature.”

“I’m glad it’s not more serious.” Annie dropped her hand and leaned away. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I didn’t get around to it before Robin commandeered me to play.”

“I was just about to fix myself and Callie a plate. I’ll get you one too. Anything you can’t eat?”

“No, believe me, anything you bring will be welcome.” Hollis rubbed her stomach. “I’m actually starving.”

“Me too.”

“Callie told me you got called out last night. Were you up all night?”

“Not quite,” Annie said noncommittally. “I got a little sleep this morning.”

“Just another typical Saturday night, then,” Hollis said.

Annie nodded. “I guess you know what that’s like.”

“Oh, absolutely. I can have the quietest week in the world, but as soon as Friday afternoon comes around, it gets busy. Babies just seem to know when the sun goes down, especially if it’s a weekend.”

“You’ve got that right.” Annie stood abruptly. “Well, let me get you that food.”

Hollis watched her wend her way through the crowd to the table, take plates from a stack, and start filling them, quickly and efficiently. No one ever waited on her unless she was home. No one worried if she’d had enough sleep or enough to eat or had a chance to decompress after a big case. She liked things that way and hadn’t missed it. Until now, when Annie reminded her how nice it was to have someone who cared.

Chapter Ten

Annie stared at the plate. She’d piled nine chicken wings onto it without even noticing. Glancing around, relieved no one was watching, she redistributed the wings between the three plates. She’d examined hundreds of patients in her life—women she cared about, women she’d come to love—and she’d never felt anything like the brief brush of her fingers over Hollis’s forehead. Heat as bright as summer lightning had flashed through her hand, up her arm, and struck somewhere around her heart. Her body still pulsed. The dark blue depths of Hollis’s eyes still threatened to pull her under. She was afraid to think of what her reaction meant. Her mind conjured answers, but her emotions, her heart, recoiled from the obvious explanation. She had no experience with something so simple that moved her so much. She’d thought she’d understood passion and desire and love when she’d been with Jeff, and she’d learned the hard way she’d been totally wrong. Now she didn’t trust anything she felt, especially when she had no good reason to feel that way about someone she wasn’t even sure she knew. When she looked at Hollis she saw two women—the one from her past who was tangled up in disillusionment, disappointment, and overwhelming loss, and the other, a stranger she had just met who stirred her in ways that defied common sense. Both Hollises were dangerous, and she vowed to be more careful about crossing boundaries.

“Mommy?” Callie tugged at Annie’s hand. “Are we going to have potato salad? And what about corn? And Jell-O?”

“Jell-O definitely—after dinner.” Annie stroked the red-gold waves that fluttered around Callie’s innocent face. She’d do anything to preserve her trust and faith, even though she knew she couldn’t protect her innocence forever. “And yes—salad and corn too. Come here.” Callie lifted her arms and Annie scooped her up. “Can you reach the big spoon? You put the salad on the plates.”

Callie carefully scooped salad onto the three big red plastic plates.

“Excellent.” Annie set Callie down and finished filling the plates. “Here’s yours.”

“Can I go eat with Mike and Jack and Sandy?”

Annie searched for Callie’s friends. Robin and Linda sat at a big picnic table with a handful of children not far from where Hollis stretched out on the lounge. “Yes, but don’t leave that table. I’ll be right over there with Hollis.”

“Okay.” Callie hurried away, her plate balanced carefully out in front of her.

Annie started toward Hollis, her face warming when she realized Hollis was watching her, a somber, intent expression on her face. Annie felt exposed and didn’t know why. She smiled and put on her sociable face. “I hope you’re as hungry as you said.”

Hollis smiled too, but her eyes held questions. Fleetingly, Annie wondered if Hollis could see through her mask of confidence and polite distance. Everyone else accepted her self-sufficient, self-assured façade so readily. Hollis made her feel naked, as if her innermost thoughts and feelings were displayed on her face like images on a big blinking billboard. She was alternately uncomfortable and attracted to the sensation of being so open. So seen. Searching for something to distract Hollis’s unwavering focus from her, she gestured to the plate. “I went a little overboard.”