A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,5

Rachel—for the fact that it was completely deserted. She’d just started to relax when the door behind her opened, allowing the raucous noise to hit her before it shut. Huddled in a shadowed corner, she crossed her fingers that whoever it was wouldn’t notice her.

He had.

Cale had talked to her. Made her smile. Made her suddenly glad she’d come to the party after all. And he hadn’t tried to use a single line on her. Hadn’t flirted. He’d been...real. Something Rachel didn’t run into every day. The egos of some male med students had always repelled her. Cale’s obvious differences were refreshing.

They’d spent a good half hour or more outside talking, just the two of them. Cale had sympathized that she didn’t know anyone else at the party, and once he’d found out she was a med student, he’d taken her inside and tracked down a woman he knew who was also studying to become a doctor and had introduced them.

Hence, the rescuer. Her knight.

Later on, when Rachel was chatting with the other med student, she’d watched from across the room the moment Cale had spotted Noelle and had immediately introduced himself to her, no doubt making a comment about the sisters’ identical twin-ness. For some reason, Rachel hadn’t mentioned it when she and Cale had spoken.

It had hit her then, as she watched the two of them interact, that there was a reason Cale hadn’t flirted with her. She wasn’t the type of girl whom guys flirted with. Not like Noelle was.

The waitress chose that moment to set their Belgian waffles in front of them, forcing Rachel to snap out of the trip down memory lane.

“You don’t need to rescue me anymore,” she said as she selected the blueberry syrup and poured it over her plate. “I can take care of myself.”

“Some people need to be rescued from themselves.” He’d jabbed his first bite of waffle but paused with it hovering over his plate, dripping maple syrup, to send her a penetrating gaze.

“Me?”

“No.” He straightened and popped the food into his mouth. “Course not. Just a general comment.”

When she continued to stare at him, trying to discern whether it really was a general comment or an accusation, he shook his head.

“Really, Rachel. Didn’t mean anything by it. The capable, competent Dr. Rachel Culver absolutely, positively doesn’t need to be rescued from herself.” He grinned and she found it hard to be annoyed. “As far as I know. I reserve the right to amend that statement at any time.”

She couldn’t help laughing quietly, in spite of her fatigue, in spite of not wanting to let herself have a good time, as she shook her head.

“So the benefit...” Cale said, switching gears so fast her head spun.

“That again,” Rachel muttered, renewing her focus on her food.

“I’m surprised your mom hasn’t roped you in yet.” He smiled and looked sympathetic as he said it, but there was sincerity behind the words.

“Yeah. She tried. She’s...” Rachel shook her head, unsure what, exactly, she wanted to say. Unsure why she’d started saying anything about her mom.

“She’s what? Probably happy as hell to have you back.”

Rachel shook her head, staring off at nothing as she thought of the uncharacteristic distance between her and her mom these days. Happy was not the word she’d choose. It was as if her mom had lost her focus on the important things or something. “She’s changed. Noelle’s dea—” She shook her head again, unable, or maybe unwilling, to say the words. “My mom is just different now.”

Cale studied her too hard as he continued to wolf down his breakfast. “It’s tough, all the way around. Some days, I wake up, and I don’t immediately think about it. About Noelle and what happened. And then, wham, it hits me, and for a minute, it’s like it’s new again.” He swallowed. Grasped his glass without taking a drink. “Going to these meetings for your mom’s benefit has made Noelle top of mind, and that’s not easy. I get that, Rachel. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Rachel was about to remind him that she was too overwhelmed with her job when he stuck his palm out toward her and nodded. “I know. New job and all that. You don’t have to defend yourself to me.”

“I’m not being defensive,” she said, swirling her waffle through a puddle of syrup.

“I know.” He flashed her another smile. “It’s cool. The event itself is going to be pretty amazing. Has your mom told you about it? That we