A/N: And Catherine says, 'Oops'. (Thanks everyone for your continued feedback. It means a lot.)

Reunion

Chapter 12

Catherine heard Vincent call after her as she ran from the barn, reeling from the sight of him in the arms of another woman. She didn't stop. Her thoughts were jumbled and her eyes burned with threatening tears. She looked left, then right, but had no idea where to go. All she knew was the house and even then, very little about it. On autopilot her body took her there, rushing in through the back door and bolting through the kitchen past JT and into the living room.

Stopping in the middle of the huge space Catherine surveyed her surroundings, not sure what to do next. When she'd come down the stairs earlier the living area had seemed full and inviting and warm. Now it seemed cavernous and empty and cold. Out of the corner of her eye she saw JT had stopped what he'd been doing in the kitchen and stared at her. Embarrassment coursed through her at his scrutiny, immediately replaced by suspicion and anger. JT had tried to convince her not to go out looking for Vincent. It was obvious he knew about Vincent's clandestine meeting with the red-headed woman. She clenched her fists by her side, her nails digging painfully into her palms. It wasn't only Vincent who'd betrayed her, but JT as well.

Still, it wasn't the confusion or embarrassment or anger that hurt the most. What cut her to the quick was the overpowering shame. Shame that draped itself over her like an old musty cloak, unwanted and rank with the odor of mildew and decay. Shame that she had been so naive about Vincent she'd allowed adolescent desires to overrule the adult Catherine's better judgment.

I'm acting like an idiotic schoolgirl. What was I thinking, coming here? She shook her head, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

Did she really think after seven years of believing each other dead they could just start-up their relationship where they'd left off? How could she act as if Vincent didn't have other relationships in his life to deal with? Lord knew, she had a few of her own lurking in the background. Was it even fair to put that expectation on him? Maybe not, but it wasn't fair for him to deceive her, either. She was owed an explanation and she was damn sure going to get it.

She whirled around and faced JT across the large expanse. "You knew she was out there," she said, point an accusing finger at him. "You tried to stop me from finding them together. What's going on? Who the hell is she?"

JT put the utensils in his hands down and slowly untied his apron, setting it on the counter. He stepped around to the living room side of the breakfast bar and sat in one of the tall, swivel stools, turning to face her. He let out a sigh. "She's the veterinarian."

"Bullshit!" Catherine snapped.

JT was unfazed by her anger. He had a pained - almost guilty - look on his face. "It's true. She really is. Dr. Alex Salter. And …" he shrugged, "she and Vincent had a relationship. But that's been over for a couple of years," he added quickly.

"I find that hard to believe," Catherine spat back.

JT furrowed a confused brow. "What do you mean? What happened out there? What did you see?"

"The doctor," Catherined said, her tone thick with sarcasm, "was paying attention to a patient other than the alpaca or llama or camel or whatever the hell she was supposed to look at. She was on top of Vincent in a pile of hay playing tonsil-hockey."

JT let out a hiss and swore under his breath. "Goddammit, Alex." He looked up at Catherine. "I'm sure it wasn't what it looked like. You need to talk to the big guy. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out," Catherine ground out.

She'd gotten a good look at the doctor. Even in her heavy winter clothes Catherine could tell the doctor was a beauty. With her long reddish hair, piercing blue eyes, full hips and long, lean legs - it was no contest. There was no way Catherine could compete with someone like the doctor. Catherine was short, and petite - all the way around - and lacked the supermodel facial features of the veterinarian. She may be able to meet the doctor toe-to-toe when it came to brain-power, but she would loose on all other fronts. It made sense that the vet would continue to be attracted to Vincent. He was classically tall and dark and handsome with a body you wanted to get lost in. As she had, just an hour before.

Catherine shook her head in self-disgust. There was no way she could compare to the type of women who would throw themselves at a multi-millionaire entrepreneur with the body of a Greek god. She'd been foolish to think Vincent would settle for her when he could have any woman he wanted. He was only reliving a fantasy, their lost dream. But when push came to shove, when reality came to rest, he'd most likely realize he could do better than her. She didn't want to be around when that happened.

Just then Vincent rushed into the kitchen from the mudroom, heading toward the living room. As he drew up to the breakfast bar he saw Catherine and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at her and she fought to match his gaze, to not turn away. His face was pained and his shoulders slumped. To say he looked guilty was an understatement.

There was a long pause, the tension thick in the air between the three of them. Vincent turned to JT, "Can you give us a couple of minutes?"

"Sure. No problem," JT said, relief ringing in his voice. He jumped off the stool, almost running up the stairs and disappeared.

Vincent brought his eyes back to Catherine. "I don't know where to start?" he said, his voice forlorn.

Anger burned in her belly but a little pang of sympathy moved in her chest, so she said, "JT told me about you and Alex."

Vincent let out a relieved sigh. "And did he tell you we're not in a relationship and haven't been for a long time?"

"Yes," Catherine said. "But that doesn't explain what I saw in the barn." She broke her gaze with Vincent and looked away.

"I know," he said, "and I'm really sorry. I don't want to make any excuses."

"Then don't," she said. "Just tell me what happened."

"It's my fault," he said. "I know Alex still wants to get back together. Hell, she's been wanting that for two years. I should have told her to come back at another time. I was stupid to think she wouldn't flirt with me."

"Flirt with you?" Catherine said her eyebrows raised. "You call that flirting?"

"No," he said, sheepishly. "That was definitely not flirting. She was in full-on seduction mode. She's not like that … usually."

"Usually?" Catherine said, still incredulous.

"Geez, this is coming out all wrong," Vincent said, pushing out a frustrated breath. He paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts. Catherine stared at him, waiting, giving him no wiggle room. Finally he said, "Okay. In a nutshell - Alex made a couple of passes at me and I refused. In the barn she pushed me over a hay bale and then jumped on me. That's when you walked in."

Catherine kept her gaze on Vincent, saying nothing.

Vincent's hands started to fidget nervously. "I messed-up and I'm sorry," he said.

Catherine dropped her gaze. More silence filled the space between them. Finally she said softly, "Maybe it's for the best."

Vincent stepped forward until only a couple of arm lengths separated them. "What do you mean," he said, his face worried.

"Maybe this is all happening too fast," she replied. "Maybe we need to take a step back - take a breath. I can't compete with your past and I certainly can't compete with the kind of women who want you. I'm just a mid-west girl who's an ER doc. Nothing fancy or glamorous. You can have your pick of any woman you want."

Vincent's face blanched white and Catherine could feel the tension from his body radiate across the distance between them.

"I've already picked who I want. I only need one woman to want me. And that's you," he said quietly.

"Vincent, we need to be realistic, we don't-"

A thunderous, pounding knock came from the front door on the far side of the living room, cutting Catherine off.

Vincent ignored the noise, keeping his attention on Catherine. "Catherine, I am so sorry. I'm not interested in anyone else. I don't want anyone else." He gave his head a frustrated shake, panic on his face. "You said it yourself. I can have anyone-"

The pounding on the door sounded again, louder.

"Aren't you going to see who's here?" Catherine asked.

"We don't get many visitors and right now, I don't care. Catherine, you said I could have anyone I want. If that's true, then what does all of this tell you? What does it say that I built your - our - dream? What does it say that I'm not in love with anyone, even if I could have any woman I wanted? What does it say that I never fell out of love with you?"

The pounding started on the front door again and this time it didn't stop.

JT leaned over the balcony, looking down at them. "You want me to get the door, Boss?"

Vincent pushed out a hard breath. "No," he said, his voice an angry growl, "I'll get it." He stalked forward past Catherine and made his way to the huge wooden door. He grabbed the handle and threw it open, revealing a tall, slender man standing on the front porch, shivering under clothing too light for the Central Oregon winter.

As Catherine caught sight of the man through the open door her breath stuttered and her stomach lurched hard, bile surging up into her throat. Then she gasped. The visitor hadn't noticed her standing further back in the huge living room. His attention was completely on Vincent.

Vincent seemed not to notice Catherine's reaction behind him as he scowled at the man in front of him and snapped, "What?"

"Are you Vincent Keller?" the man asked, his gaze as angry and challenging as Vincent's.

"Yes," Vincent said, curtly. "Who are you and what do you want?"

Before the man could reply his eyes swept over Catherine and his face transformed from intense anger to exhausted relief. "Catherine," he said. "Thank God. Are you all right?"

The stranger started to step through the door but Vincent put his hand on the man's chest stopping him where he stood. "I said," Vincent's voice was low and menacing, "who are you and what do you want?"

The man met Vincent's glare. "My name is Evan Marks and I've come to take my wife home."