Page 71 of Paging Dr. Summers

Would I disturb Logan if I crept into the kitchen? I’d interrupted his life enough in the last few hours.

Before I could make a move, the door creaked open. A friendly head peeked in, and Eden’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said, startled. “Sorry, I was just checking on you.” Her gaze drifted down, landing on the photo frame I was clutching.

My breath hitched, and I dropped it as though it had burned me. “Um ...” Words stuck in my throat like cotton. My mind scrambled forsomething—anything—that might rationally explain why I’d been clinging to a photo of Logan and Erica’s wedding. Something other than the fact that I was falling in love with Logan. That was anything but rational.

Eden stepped in and tiptoed toward me. She eased onto the bed, her weight making it bounce gently beneath us. Her brows knit together, concern etched in her features.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” I began, my voice failing me, but she reached out and took my hand, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said, her tone gentle and steady. It matched her personality perfectly. I’d come to love her and Sophie this summer too. “It’s natural to be curious about the other woman in his life.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “I was thinking more like it was creepy for me to be hugging their wedding photo.”

Eden’s giggle helped lighten the moment, but I still felt the need to explain myself, to make her understand. “It’s just ... we’re different, Erica and me. I’m feeling that more than ever right now.”

She tilted her head slightly, contemplating. “Different isn’t a bad thing,” she said finally. “In fact, it can be a very good thing.”

“Sometimes,” I agreed. “But I don’t think this is one of those situations.”

“Oh, really?” Her eyes lit up, sparkling with amusement. “Then why is my brother over at the Harringtons’ right now telling off Maxwell?” She spewed his name.

I blinked repeatedly, flabbergasted. “He is? What? Why?” I had so many questions.

And one overriding thought—Logan was bound and determined to make sure I fell irrevocably in love with him. Seriously, what a guy.

Eden leaned in closer. “Why do you think? He cares about you. Probably more than he’s willing to admit right now, but it’s plain to see.”

Although I wanted to believe her more than anything, the doubts in my mind persisted. “I’m pretty sure we’re not seeing the same thing,” I said. “I know he cares about me, but ... Erica owns his heart. As she should,” I added, even though I wished I could get joint custody.

What was I even thinking? There would be no living up to Erica, and I didn’t want to try. Especially now when I knew that not even mydear old dadthought I was good enough to be his daughter. I tried not to let Maxwell get to me. After all, I’d lived my entire life without him. His opinion should have had zero bearing on my life. However ... it was a slap in the face to have double confirmation that he didn’t want me or my mother.

He hadn’t even had the decency to believe her, but he’d paid her off all the same. The saddest part was that after reading their “love” letters, I believed my mom wanted me to come to Aspen Lake because deep down she still had hope for him. I truly believed that she had wanted to give me a family now that she was gone, as family was everything to her.

But she’d wanted Maxwell to redeem himself. As she had put it in one of the letters,I’ll make sure you get the chance to be the man I thought you were—whether or not you take it is up to you.My heart broke more for my mom, as he had proven once again that he wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. My guess was that he never had been.

“The thing about hearts is that, given the opportunity, they have a great capacity to grow. I think they even like the chance to love again,” Eden said, like I’d written to Dear Abby, and this was her advice to me.

“Are you speaking from experience?” I asked.

Her lips curved into a playful smile. “Yes, but we aren’t talking about me tonight.”

“Fine,” I replied, faking disappointment, though a part of me genuinely wanted to know more. “In that case, I think Logan’s heart might be too broken to love again. There’s something beautiful in that too, right?” I sounded braver than I felt.

“In a poem, sure,” she teased, her smile widening. “But that’s not real life, and Logan has a lot of years ahead of him. I know he wants a family.”

“He does? I’ve always been afraid to ask him.” Probably because, lately, the thought of offering myself up as a tribute for that cause had crossed my mind more than once. And I’d wondered if he and Erica hadn’t been able to have them. I didn’t want to remind him of that pain.

“It’s a sensitive subject,” Eden sounded like she was giving me awarning. I got the message loud and clear—don’t ask Logan about it. It lent more to my theory about them not being able to conceive. Poor Logan.

Another head peeked in the door. I expected it to be Logan’s, but this time it was his mom, Marianne. I hoped he was okay. How long had he even been gone?

“Sorry to interrupt, but I figured this called for some hot cocoa.” Marianne came waltzing in elegantly, wearing red silk pajamas and carrying a large mug of steaming goodness. She really was the cutest lady, with her curly brown hair in a headband, prancing like she was Doris Day.

I didn’t think I had any tears left, but they came on strong, spilling over and flooding my cheeks.

“Oh, dear,” Marianne exclaimed. “Did I do something wrong?”

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