“I won’t let you fall back down the stairs.”
Sissy giggled again. “Oh, yeah? I think this thing on my leg weighs almost as much as I do. I’ve never used crutches. The law of averages says that as I try to swing my body up, I’m going to lose my balance and fall over backward.”
Ben was pleased to note that she was still reasonably alert.
He steadied the crutches on the pavement with one hand and reached out to her with his other one. “If you’re wobbly on these things, I’ll carry you.”
“I don’t think that’ll work.” She flashed him a grin, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “For the first time in my life, I may not fit into a space large enough for most adults.” She gestured at her elevated leg, which was only slightly bent at the knee inside the brace. “I suppose you might manage if you go up sideways.”
Ben realized she was right. “Okay, sideways it may be.” He’d definitely decided to carry her and come back for the crutches later. He could tell just by looking that she was drunker than a lord. After balancing the crutches against the truck, he leaned in to unfasten her seat belt. Then he slid his arms around her, one behind her back and the other beneath her legs. “One, two, three, up!”
She was so relaxed that her butt sagged, and he nearly dropped her. The only rigid place on her was the brace. He left the door open, stepped up onto the curb, crossed the sidewalk, and turned sideways to get her inside the café. He’d have to carry her upstairs the same way.
“Too bad we’re not on video,” she chirped. “The Duke was good, but we may outperform him.”
Not if Ben had anything to say about it. Holding her close against his chest, he carried her through the café and found solid footing on the first step with his right boot. Then he lifted his other foot. And so it went, all the way up to her flat. Once at the top, he decided Sissy would have an additional cost when she remodeled. These narrow steps were going. It was a miracle she hadn’t killed herself when she fell.
Once inside the flat, he deposited her on the sofa, gathered pillows from her bed to place at one end, and then carefully lifted her hurt leg onto the billowy softness. Patches bounded across the living room carpet, proving that missing two front feet would never slow him down. He leaped onto Sissy’s chest, pushed his whiskered nose against hers, and said hello with a mournful meow.
“Oh, Patches. How are you, sweetness? Did you miss me?”
Ben decided to leave Sissy wearing his jacket while he trekked back down to get her happy juice and crutches, along with the white plastic bag of stuff that the nurse had sent home with her.
When he got back upstairs, Sissy, wide-awake but smiling, held Patches on her chest. Ben’s oversize jacket had slipped off her right shoulder to reveal the borrowed scrub smock. Ben looked down at her and decided she was the only woman on earth who could look beautiful in bile green.
“Hi,” she said. “Where’d you go? You missed our family reunion.”
Ben dropped the bag on the floor. Patches, he noticed, had already tucked himself into a ball and fallen asleep. “He missed you.”
“He missed you, too. Where’s Finnegan?”
Ben didn’t think a rambunctious dog would mix well with a woman on crutches. “Finn is at Barney’s house. They have a golden retriever his age. It’s pup heaven over there.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll miss him tomorrow during breakfast prep.”
Surely Sissy didn’t think she could work tomorrow. He decided to leave that topic shelved. “He’ll be back soon.”
She stroked the kitten. “Don’t avoid the subject. I have to reopen the café in the morning. I can’t let everything I worked for get flushed down the toilet just because I broke my leg.”
Ben sat on the coffee table. “Well, there’s a pickle, because cooking takes two hands. Maybe with practice, you could learn to get around with only one crutch, but you’d still be a hand short.”
She went from happy to sad. “I can’t keep my café closed until I can walk again. I overheard a nurse say it might be as long as six weeks before the doctor gives me a walking cast.”
Ben drew in a steadying breath. “The café will reopen in only days. I’ve made arrangements at my ranch. I won’t be needed there.” He paused to let her absorb that. “Remember when I told you teaching me how to do kitchen cleanup and meal prep was sort of like insurance? If something happened, I could take over for you?”
She fixed an appalled gaze on him. “You can’t run the Cauldron.”
“Why not? I know how to operate the cooking appliances. I sure as hell have the prep work down pat. I can do it, Sissy. Maybe not as well as you can, but your customers don’t come here only for the food. They come because they love you. You’re their friend. You make them feel important. Take Chris Doyle. Plenty of people say hello to him and ask about his day, but you know what he wants for each meal and you plan your daily menus around his eating preferences. You go out of your way for him.”
Tears slipped down her pale cheeks. “He’s the grandpa I never had.”
Ben’s brain snagged on that. Didn’t everyone have at least one grandpa? “He’s pretty special,” he said. “He loves you, that’s for sure. And that’s my point. Christopher is worried about you. He’ll come here to eat, and while I’m trying to juggle your load, I’ll remember his menu choices. I may not make each meal as well as you do, but I’ll give it my best shot.”
“You have your own business to run. And you love it. I don’t want to be responsible for you going under while you try to keep me afloat.”
She had a point. But he had something going for him that she didn’t, a supportive family.
“Let me do this. At least give me a fair chance. I know it’ll be hard to run the café with the same efficiency you do. But while you’re laid up, you can advise me. I’ll have your brains and my brawn to keep things going here.”
“Maybe it’d work. But it’s not easy.” She smiled faintly. “At least I’ll still be able to do the books for both operations.”
Ben felt a wave of pure pleasure move through him. In the past Sissy would have objected to him helping her out. But, with him, at least, she’d moved beyond her fear that any man who helped her would expect paybacks. It also told him that their relationship had reached a new level.
“Never said it will be easy. But you’ll be just upstairs. I can call you on my cell. I can send you pics of the food. You can direct me.” Ben leaned close to her, got a whiff of her hair, and still smelled lavender. “I can pull it off. Won’t you at least let me try?”
She smiled and said, “Why not? Even if you hit a few rough spots, at least the café will still be open, and you have a way with people. As soon as I get used to crutches, I can come downstairs and supervise.” She shrugged and grinned more broadly. “We’re a great team.”
“Yeah, we sure are.” Ben finger combed her hair, thinking of how smoothly she’d slipped into his life, accepting him for who he was and what he was. Hell, she even loved his dog. Even in the hospital, she’d worried aloud about Finn, and today she’d been disappointed that the pup wasn’t present for their reunion. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
She beamed another smile at him. “No, and I’ve missed hearing it.”
“Well, I love you.” He bent to kiss her forehead. “The best thing about that is, I thought I’d never find you.”
She laughed. “You found me, but I chased you away. I’m glad you didn’t run this time.”
Ben studied the expressions that flitted over her face, every line of which he felt certain had been engraved upon his heart. What was she thinking about? He saw tenderness warm her eyes. Then a deepening of her smile. He had never wanted to be a mind reader—until just now.
“Ice,” he said, jerking Sissy’s attention back to him. “Thank God you’ve got a good ice maker downstairs. I remembered to elevate your le
g, but I forgot to ice it.”
“I hate icing it. I get so cold!”
“It’s probably because you don’t have much meat on your bones. I’ll double-layer you up top.” He reached down to draw his jacket over her shoulder. “That sheepskin lining will help, and I’ll turn up the thermostat.” He strode toward the door. “I’ll be only a minute. If you need to use the restroom or anything, tell me now. I don’t want you trying to maneuver by yourself.”
“I’m good,” Sissy told him. “And I promise not to move.”
As he ran downstairs, she listened to the sharp reports of his riding boots on the steps. Moments later, he returned, carrying a large, black garbage bag partly filled with ice. He gently packed the cubes around her leg, making sure the sack was knotted tightly enough not to leak and get her boot wet as the frozen chunks melted.
Then he stood back and studied her. “How’s your pain level?”
“It’s definitely there. A five or six, I think.”
He inclined his head and glanced at his watch. “Well, the directions say that you can have another quarter of a dosage if you don’t have total relief in thirty minutes. It’s been that long.”
Sissy nodded. As he went to collect the bottle of medication, she admired his backside. He returned with the carefully measured liquid and put the cup to her lips. “Down the hatch. There’s no point in being uncomfortable unless it’s necessary.”
Sissy swallowed the syrup. “It tastes awful.”
* * *
Within thirty minutes, Sissy was chattering and giggling as if she were drunk. She’d study Ben for a moment and then burst out laughing. After ten minutes of the odd behavior, Ben began to get worried and called the Pill Minder. No pain medication he’d ever taken had made him feel happy and energized.
Drake answered with, “Hi, Ben.” Then he chuckled. “Sorry. I now recognize your number. No one else calls here. Well, rarely, anyway.”
“Hell, man. That’s bad.” Ben heard Sissy giggle and glanced over his shoulder. She was now engaged in a conversation with Patches, which he normally wouldn’t have found strange, but Sissy was saying both her lines and the kitten’s, making her voice squeaky when it was supposed to be the cat talking. “I’m a little worried. Sissy’s laughing and talking a blue streak, and right now, she’s—” Ben broke off. The pharmacist didn’t need to hear details of Sissy’s behavior that might embarrass her later. “I’m a little worried.”
“Is she still in pain?” Drake asked.
Ben asked Sissy and she giggled at the question. “She doesn’t appear to be.”
Drake chuckled. “I can hear her. She’s as happy as a flea in a dog kennel. That particular narcotic can cause euphoria. As long as the medication is controlling her pain, which is undoubtedly considerable, it’s okay for her to feel happy.”
“Are there any warning signs of overdose that I should be looking for?” Ben explained that he’d given Sissy an extra one-quarter dose, just as it said on the bottle.
“Well, if she falls asleep in the middle of a sentence, call me. Or if she floats in and out and her speech becomes slurred, I might worry a bit. But it sounds to me as if she’s pretty alert. Maybe get some food in her stomach.”
“Good advice.”
Ben got off the phone and fixed Sissy a small meal—beef vegetable soup with a slice of toast. He discarded the half-melted bag of ice, helped her to sit up on the sofa, pillowed her braced leg on the coffee table before serving her. “I let it cool a bit, but still be careful not to spill it.”
She filled her mouth with some meat and vegetables. Then she began waving the spoon as she chattered between bites. A blob of beef flipped off the flatware and landed on the front of her scrub top. She dimpled a cheek at Ben and giggled.
Oh, boy. Ben couldn’t help but smile. His little neat freak had vanished. After getting her tummy full, she allowed Ben to position her on the sofa in a prone position again, and then promptly fell asleep. Ben gazed down at her, thinking she looked as innocent and sweet as a young girl. He didn’t feel that she’d blinked out with abnormal swiftness. Her last words had sounded fairly rational.
Taking advantage of the downtime while Sissy napped, Ben stepped out onto the stairs to call all the members of his family with whom he hadn’t yet spoken, the only exception being Jonas, away at university. Everyone was happy to help Ben out.
When he finished making phone calls, he felt as if someone had just given him a bear hug. He was so blessed in his family. Nobody had questioned him about his relationship with Sissy, even though everyone had to be curious.
After making sure Sissy was still fast asleep, Ben went down to check her kitchen supplies. He had never made out an order for a café, so he called Joe across the street.
“Unlike Sissy, I cook the same stuff day after day,” Joe told Ben. “It’s not dinner hour yet. I’ll come over and have a quick look at her weekly menu.”
Seconds later, Joe appeared at the door. He was around six feet tall, with deep brown hair and eyes that matched. Ben walked over to let him in. “I really appreciate this, Joe.”
“Well, don’t be too overcome with gratitude until I actually help you out. My operation is nothing like Sissy’s.”
Joe perused Sissy’s menus, helped Ben find the names of her suppliers on invoices in her file cabinet, and made out a list of things Ben would need to order for the first week.
“I really grateful your help,” Ben said as he escorted Joe out. “She’s your competitor. A lot of people would rub their hands together and hope she went under.”
“We’re not competitors,” Joe corrected. “Sometimes people want a taco, sometimes they don’t. Sissy doesn’t steal any of my business. Same goes for José next door at the Straw Hat. We all offer different stuff.”
Joe saw a woman and small child enter his building. He shook Ben’s hand. “Gotta go make tacos and fill soda cups. I don’t open for breakfast at my place, so I’ll come back in the morning to help you make out your first order. You won’t have to call it in until you’re ready to roll.”
“You’re a good man,” Ben told him.
“Not a big deal. Tell Sissy everybody in town is keeping her in their thoughts.”
* * *
After locking up, Ben returned to the flat to find Sissy awake again, her face drawn and pale. He glanced at his watch and realized he’d spent more time downstairs than he’d intended. Her second full dose of pain medication needed to be administered.
“Damn, honey. You should have called me.”
“I don’t have my phone.” Her voice rang taut. “Haven’t seen it since before I fell down the stairs.”
Ben made a mental note to find the phone and get it charged. But first, he needed to get her pain under control. He gave her a dose of medication. Within fifteen minutes, she was euphoric again. Ben found her phone in the kitchen, spotted her charger plugged in by a toaster, and got the phone hooked up.
“Your cell will be charged in about an hour,” he told her as he sat on the coffee table. He couldn’t help but grin. Her eyes, glazed over only a few minutes earlier, now looked clear and danced with merriment. The next time he felt depressed, maybe he’d ask a doctor for some of that syrup. “How you doing?”
Ben was surprised when she reached out to clasp his hand. “I need to tell you some stuff—things I’ve never told anyone about myself.”
Ben thought, Uh-oh. He’d yearned for this moment, ached for her to open up, and now he didn’t want her to say a word. He pressed a fingertip to her lips. “Sweetheart, you should wait to tell me later when you aren’t on a narcotic that’s loosening your tongue.”
“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time.”
And now she had a good measure of false courage. “I understand,” he assured her. “But if it’s waited this long, it can wait a couple more days.”
“No.” She shook her head, making her hair flash in spots like dark gold in the light coming from the kitchen. “It’s about me, my childhood. The story won’t change if I wait to tell you.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “My parents never stayed in one place.”
Ben nearly groaned. She’d regret this once she sobered up. He needed to stop her before she got started. “Sissy, this really isn’t the time.”
“I want to tell you the truth about myself.”
Ben had a bad feeling about this, but he couldn’t shove a sock in her mouth. “Okay, but tomorrow remember that I tried to postpone this conversation.”
“I was born in an old travel trailer at an apple orchard in Hood River.”
Everyone in Oregon was familiar with Hood River, renowned for its apple production. “No wonder you’re so sweet.”
She gave his fingers a soft squeeze. “My mother went into labor at the top of a ladder, picked apples until she couldn’t continue, and went inside the trailer to have me. The next morning, she made a baby sling for me out of a pillowcase and started picking apples again.”
Shock burst through Ben. “You weren’t taken to a hospital?”
“No. My father was, is, and always will be an insane alcoholic. My mom lived in poverty because he drank away almost every dime they made, and she continued to do that until I left home. She married him against her family’s wishes. I guess they must have disowned her and are all as loony as she is. Not even at the very worst times did she ever try to contact any of her relatives for help.” She expelled a long breath, as if those words had been pent up within her for years. “They moved, on average, about four times a school year, and at least once every summer. I rarely got to attend the same school for more than two months. It was difficult to make friends.” She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on Ben’s fingers. “When I did manage to make a friend, my parents moved again. It wasn’t long before I realized that trying to forge relationships with other girls wasn’t worth the bother.
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