Afterward they both fell asleep, exhausted but deeply content. They hadn't eaten dinner, but they'd satisfied their hunger in other ways. Sometime during the night they raided the refrigerator for sandwiches, then made love again. Clay went back to sleep almost immediately. Spring lay awake for a short time, wondering about the future they'd been reluctant to discuss, but then she decided to adopt Clay's live-for-the-moment attitude and she, too, fell asleep, cradled close in his arms.
* * *
So that Clay could use her car, Spring called Kelsey the next morning and asked for a ride. She left for work with her hair a bit mussed, her lips slightly swollen, and with just barely enough time to get to her office before her first appointment. But her violet eyes sparkled with love, her cheeks glowed with happiness and she couldn't seem to stop smiling. If she still worried about the future, she managed to hide it—even from herself. She was in love, and Clay was here, and she intended to relish every moment.
"I would say that you had a very...interesting night," Kelsey commented after taking one look at her friend's face.
Blushing rosily, Spring straightened her breeze-tossed hair, which she'd left down that morning. "It was...nice."
"Nice." Kelsey sounded a lot like Summer when she repeated the word with disdain. "Sure."
"Okay, it was fabulous. What do you want, play-byplay reporting?"
Grinning, Kelsey nodded avidly.
Spring laughed and shook her head. "Forget it. I wouldn't have time, anyway. Mr. Abernathy is due at the office in less than fifteen minutes."
"Hey, you're the one who was five minutes late coming down to the parking lot."
Spring blushed again. "I know."
"Did he ask you to marry him?"
"Mr. Abernathy?" Spring inquired, being deliberately obtuse.
Kelsey sighed gustily. "No. Clay Crowe McEntire. Did he ask you?"
"No, Kelsey."
"Did he tell you that he loves you?"
Spring hesitated, then shrugged. "In a way."
"In a way? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Kelsey, really. I don't have time for this, and I'm not sure that I'd want to go into it if I did. It's awfully personal."
Kelsey smiled ruefully and nodded her dark head. "I know. It's just that I can't help worrying about you a little. I can't forget the way you looked on your birthday when you opened that gift from him. You were so devastated. This man has such power to hurt you."
Spring moistened her lips and tucked a strand of hair behind the earpiece of her glasses. "Kelsey, I know you're only concerned because you care about me, but I really don't want to talk about this just now, okay? Clay and I agreed
to spend some time together before we discuss the future, and I think it was a good idea. I don't want to rush into anything at this point, nor do I want to spoil my enjoyment of being with him by worrying about what may or may not happen."
"I understand," Kelsey told her, though her dark eyes were still concerned. "Be happy, Spring. You deserve it." She parked the car in her parking space, then hesitated and turned to her friend, smiling as if she were worried that she might have put a damper on Spring's good spirits. "By the way, if you get tired of having the guy around, I'd be willing to put up with him for a few hours."
Spring laughed. "I'll just bet you would. Sorry, Kel, no chance. I'm hanging on to this one."
"I don't blame you."
"Thanks for the concern, Kelsey," Spring added quickly before climbing out of the small car. She was anxious to stay busy, knowing that the time until she was with Clay again would pass too slowly if she gave herself a chance to think about it.
She'd half expected Clay to call her sometime during the day, but he didn't. Nor did he show up at lunch-time. She wondered what he was doing with himself. She wondered if he'd like what he saw of her home state. And, finally, she wondered what was going to happen between them. It seemed that no amount of determination on her part could stop her from worrying about the future when she found herself with half an hour between appointments late that afternoon, due to a last-minute cancellation. She loved her city, her state and the practice she'd built, but she loved Clay so much more. If he asked—as she suspected that he would—could she leave the rest behind for him?
It wouldn't be easy, starting over. It scared her witless to think about it. Maybe she'd be content just to be Clay's wife—assuming he asked her to marry him, she added hastily, staring sightlessly at a patient's file. She could keep his home for him, have his children, wait patiently in his lovely house until he finished with his job and his volunteer work. It wouldn't be so bad.
It would be awful. She'd worked so hard for her degree. She loved her work. She'd go crazy with nothing to do but clean house and cook meals. Even if she had children, they would start school eventually, and then where would she be? Perhaps she would choose to take off a couple of years if she had a baby, but the operative word was "choose." She didn't like the idea of giving up her career just because she was afraid to start over in a new place.
No, she told herself bravely, she wouldn't give up her work. If Clay wanted her to go back with him to San Francisco, she'd do it, but she'd have to find a job there in her field. Perhaps she couldn't start her own practice again immediately, but maybe she could enter a partnership in an existing clinic. It wasn't that she didn't like San Francisco. She did. She thought it was a beautiful city. But, oh, how she'd miss Arkansas.