Mulberry Moon

by Catherine Anderson

  “What would that be?”

  “Short and simple. ‘Ben Sterling loves me.’”

  Her eyes went shimmery and her mouth quivered. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

  Ben stood and smiled down at her. “It’s way past dinnertime. We both need something to eat. And while we eat, I want you to tell me about some happy things you remember.”

  “Okay. But first, I need my crutches. Ladies’ room time.”

  Ben did a quick count of the hours since he’d carried her upstairs and wanted to kick himself for asking only once if she needed to use the restroom. Then he glanced at the coffee table, which sported no glass of water. All it had supported for most of the day and evening was his ass. She’d gone for hours without emptying her bladder. Hello, that meant she hadn’t consumed enough fluids.

  “Well, shit,” he blurted. “I’m a rotten nurse.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  For dinner, Sissy requested breakfast instead, crisp bacon, eggs over easy, and sourdough toast. As Ben cooked, the delicious aroma of the frying bacon began to make him hungry, but he also felt nauseated. He realized that he’d fed his patient earlier but not himself. While draining grease from the bacon onto paper towels, he cooked the eggs and made toast. He piled his plate with twice the amount of food he gave Sissy and didn’t know if he could eat. Her story had made him feel half-sick.

  Euphoric again, Sissy petted Patches, laughed at his antics as he played, and flirted with Ben. He enjoyed the latter but kept in mind that she was higher than a kite on happy syrup and he didn’t take her seriously. Now that she’d spilled her guts, she’d moved on as if she’d never told him anything. He was still stuck in her past.

  He propped her up with throw pillows this time so she could eat reclined on the sofa, her leg still elevated. Ben sat next to her on the coffee table. He forced himself to shove food in his mouth. Sissy took dainty bites and twice as long to clear her plate.

  After she ate, he tidied the kitchen and then walked beside her to the bedroom to tuck her in for the night. He briefly considered finding her a fresh nightgown, but then thought better of it. If he got Sissy half-naked and she came on to him, he might lose his self-control.

  After he’d gotten her situated on the bed with her leg elevated and the covers drawn over her, she looked up at him. In the golden glow coming from her bedside lamp, everything about her seemed to shimmer, especially her lush lips.

  “Ben, will you kiss me good night?” she asked, her voice huskier than usual and slightly tremulous.

  He managed a smile. “Sweetheart, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d rather wait until you’re clearheaded.”

  “Please?”

  The note of appeal in her tone made it difficult for him to refuse. “Okay,” he relented, “but only just once.” And Ben meant to keep it friendly and quick.

  Sissy had other plans. As his lips lightly grazed hers, she locked both arms around his neck, murmuring, “Make love to me, Ben. I need you to hold me.”

  Oh, how Ben wished he could accept that invitation, but the doctor had warned that sex was not allowed until he gave the go-ahead. So instead he slipped under the covers with her and gathered her into his arms. “I can definitely deliver on holding you.” She tried to roll toward him. “No,” he said firmly. “The leg stays on the pillow, and you stay flat on your back. Otherwise you’ll fall asleep on your side and not elevate all night.”

  She released a grumpy sigh but lay back, pillowing her head on his arm. Ben splayed the fingers of his right hand over her midriff. It took all his self-control not to explore her breasts—and then journey lower.

  “I love feeling your arms around me,” she whispered. “It’s like I’ve found my own little corner of heaven.”

  He smiled against her hair. “When you’re off the happy syrup, maybe I’ll show you some glimpses of how great heaven can be.”

  “Why can’t you show me now?”

  His grin deepened. “The syrup masks your pain. I don’t want you wiggling around or arching your back by pressing down on the pillow with your leg.”

  “Why on earth would I arch my back?”

  Ben moved in closer. “Just trust me on it. When you’re sober, maybe you’ll remember you shouldn’t. Right now, I’m fairly certain you’d turn into a mattress gymnast.”

  She giggled and pressed her lips against his neck. “That’d be dangerous. I might knock you out with my brace.”

  Ben’s groin throbbed with need. He yearned to thrust his hardness deep into her feminine wetness and find release. Instead he stroked her hip and kissed her hair until her body went limp and her breathing went shallow. When he felt certain she was asleep, he slipped cautiously from the bed so he wouldn’t wake her. She’d plead with him to stay beside her. Ben wanted to do that, but he was afraid he might toss and turn during the night and accidentally jostle her leg.

  He crept into the living room to find Patches. He tiptoed back to the bedroom and placed the sleepy kitten on Sissy’s pillow. Patches curled into a ball against her cheek. Ben gazed down at them, smiling. Then he went through the apartment, shutting off lights before he stretched out on the sofa. He used his coat for a pillow and the sofa throw as a blanket. Not the best situation, but he’d work on improving it tomorrow.

  * * *

  Ben lay awake half the night. The sofa wasn’t long enough to accommodate his height and his stocking feet hung over the cushioned armrest. Moonlight, which was supposed to be a gentle illumination, glared through the window glass. The wall heaters kicked on to keep the temperature up and then went off. When they were in off mode, their metal casings clicked as they cooled. When that stopped, he could hear a clock somewhere in the apartment ticking like a bomb. At one point, he also heard Snickers prancing over the keys of the electric piano.

  The one thing Ben didn’t hear was a single sound from Sissy. He was so thankful for that. It meant that her happy syrup was working. Eventually, though, she’d wake up, needing another dose. Only, she never called out to him, and she was long overdue for more medication.

  At four, he crept into her room to see if she was stirring or tossing her head, a sure sign of pain. Standing still and being so quiet, Ben nearly parted company with his skin when Sissy asked, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “You’re awake?”

  “It happens when you sleep a lot during the day.”

  Ben didn’t recall her having slept that much, three hours at most. “Would you like some freshwater? Do you need to use the restroom? Anything?”

  “No. I’m fine for now.”

  “What’s your pain level?”

  In the dimness, he saw her push up on her elbows, taking care not to disturb the sleeping kitten. “I’ve decided that I’m not taking any more medication.”

  Ben knew her pain level couldn’t have dropped that much yet. “Why on earth did you decide that? The syrup eases your pain.”

  She sighed and let her head fall back, both the sound and gesture indicating to him that she thought his IQ had to be near the bottom of the chart. “Glimpses of heaven. Remember? You said I have to be off the drugs before it can happen.”

  Ben sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t quite credit his ears. “Sissy, that’s crazy. You’re in severe pain right now. You need the medication to lessen the discomfort. I’ll still be here in a few days to give you glimpses of heaven.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  Ben had never been so touched, especially now that he’d heard the story of her life. She had every reason to never trust a man, and yet she had totally let down her guard with him. It was one of the most wonderful compliments he’d ever received.

  “I don’t want to wait, either,” he replied. “But over the next couple of days, your tibia will start to heal, and your pain level will drop considerably. It isn’t that long, honey.”


  An edge of crankiness rang in her voice when she said, “Easy for you to say. You’ve gotten more than glimpses of heaven. You’ve gone through the gates countless times! Well, I haven’t! I’d rather lie here in pain, knowing I’ll at least get some glimpses, than lie here drugged and still aching inside.”

  “Aching inside?”

  “Yes, aching inside.” Her voice had risen. “My muscles down there are throbbing. I’m not stupid, Ben. My body wants sex. And you won’t even give me some appetizers because you’re so damned determined to protect me.”

  Ben groaned. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he rested his head in his hands. From her point of view, everything she’d just said was absolutely true. He’d had sex with a number of women. Sissy was twenty-six, and her only normal experiences with men had occurred just recently—with him. Therefore, as much as her young body yearned for physical satisfaction, she didn’t comprehend how distanced from reality she might get during the throes of an orgasm.

  “Have you ever, um, satisfied yourself in bed at night?” He straightened to gaze at her through the moon-silvered gloom. “You know—like with your hand.”

  “No.” She reclined on her pillow again, jostling Patches enough to make him emit a sleepy meow. “My only recourse is to eat Snickers bars. Remember?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. Sissy, the Snickers bar addict. “Well, when a woman climaxes that way, she almost always lifts her hips toward whatever or whoever is stimulating her down there. Could you try, right now, to lift your hips without using your injured leg?”

  She tried, using only her left foot, but the brace that reached nearly to her thigh on her right leg weighed her down. She finally gave up with a groan of disgust and went limp on the mattress. “I hate you.”

  Ben squelched a chuckle. “I want nothing more than to crawl into that bed with you and give you everything you want. But if I do, you’ll run a high risk of putting pressure on your fractured tibia. Are you willing to risk snapping it out of alignment and ending up with bolts in your bone? It’ll leave you with scars for the rest of your life, and even worse, the tibia may not heal as nicely, which might mean you’ll limp. Just say the word, Sissy. If you’re willing to risk it, I’ll climb in bed right now and give you everything you want, to hell with the doctor’s orders.”

  “I’m not even sure what I want.” In the dimness, her eyes sparked fire at him. “And that doesn’t mean I’m so naive that I don’t know anything about sex. When I was little, my father worked as a farmhand and we lived in a little shack on the property. I saw pigs do it. Horses. Even cows. And I’ve watched sex scenes on television as well. Did you ever watch reruns of Star Trek, where they beamed themselves from one place to another?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, that’s my knowledge about sex. I know how it starts, and I know how it ends, but I’m hazy on all the stuff in between.”

  Ben took her hand and held it tight. “Luckily, I know what happens in between.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I’ll just bet you do. I don’t really hate you. I’m sorry I said that.”

  “I know you don’t. You’re just frustrated, and I can’t blame you.”

  She lay quiet for a moment. “I’m frustrated with you, too. Before I got hurt, I asked you when we’d do it, and you said I wasn’t ready. Well, I was. So this is all your fault.”

  “Guilty.” Ben wished now that he hadn’t been so worried about going too fast with her. “I’m sorry. I made a really bad call.”

  She sighed. “Well, to be fair, you didn’t know this was going to happen to me.”

  “True. And just for the record, if we had made love that night, you’d still be frustrated right now. Once you experience all the fun stuff that happens between the beginning and the end, you’ll want it all the time, if I do my job right.”

  Her shimmery gaze clung to his. “You’ll do it right. I can tell just by how you kiss me.” She sighed again. “So, how long do you think we need to wait before I can see glimpses of heaven?”

  “I think I should ask your doctor.”

  Sissy gasped. “You can’t talk to him about that.”

  Ben bent over to give her a lingering kiss. When he lifted his head, he realized she had locked her arms around his neck. “Sissy,” he warned. “Not until we talk to your doctor.”

  She released her hold on him. “Oh, God, how embarrassing. I won’t be able to look him straight in the eye.”

  Ben couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s a guy. I’m a guy. We’ll do guy talk. He’ll understand what I’m asking without me going into the details.”

  “What if he says no?”

  Ben considered the question. “I’ll think of some way to keep your hips anchored to the bed. As a rancher, I have tie-down straps long enough to do the job.”

  “I’m not about to be strapped down on the bed,” she informed him. “Just get me a dose of syrup. I may as well feel happy while I’m miserable.”

  * * *

  After Ben had given Sissy her medication, he tried to find a more comfortable position on the couch. She lay only a few feet away, and knowing how badly she wanted to be with him made him yearn for her even more. Why did the idea of a tie-down strap ruffle her feathers? He had one in the bed of his truck that would work. It was clear to him that the only reason the doctor had ruled out sexual activity was because he knew Sissy might use her injured leg to lift her weight.

  God, how he wanted her. Did he live under a cursed star or something? She was so beautiful, and he was so in love with her. Wasn’t it just his rotten luck that when she finally came around to wanting sex, he couldn’t, in good conscience, accept the invitation?

  That was Ben’s last thought as he escaped the grasping fingers of consciousness and plunged into the black void of sleep.

  * * *

  “Ben? I need to go to the restroom, and I can’t find my crutches.”

  Ben jerked awake so fast, he jackknifed to a sitting position and got a crick in his back. Holding a hand over the spot, he rolled to his feet. “I’m coming! Sorry.”

  He ran into Sissy’s bedroom and spun to search the floor.

  “Other side of the bed, I think. They must have toppled off the mattress while we were cuddling.”

  Ben could tell by the tension in her voice that her pain medication had worn off. She sat on the edge of her bed, looking like a tousle-haired fairy with elephantiasis in one leg. He hurried to get the crutches for her, then thumped the capped ends on the floor, one on either side of her feet.

  “I’m right here,” he said. “If you start to fall, I’ll catch you.”

  She braced the rubberized tip of each crutch at an angle and leaned forward so the shoulder rests lent her support to struggle up onto her one good leg. “Got it,” she said as she positioned the walking aids firmly under her arms. Then, with an agility that surprised him, she moved forward, wobbling slightly at the apex of her swing. Ben reached to steady her.

  “The doctor says I can do this without help if I’m not drugged. And, hello, I am not drugged. My leg hurts so bad it feels like someone stabbed a knife through my bone.”

  She wobbled again and Ben almost grabbed her shoulder. But Sissy needed to do this by herself. At the beginning of their relationship, he hadn’t understood her. Now, after hearing her life story, he finally did. Being able to take care of herself—succeeding in her business without help and being indebted to no one—was more important to her than it was for many people. He needed to reprogram his brain and think before he rushed in to help her.

  At the bathroom door, she stopped to look up at him. “I really am going to be fine. You can leave and get some coffee on while I do all this. After I use the restroom, I’m going to find a fresh gown and then have a sponge bath. I’ll take my medicine as soon as I’m done.”

  Ben wanted to rifle through her drawers to find he
r a nightgown. He wanted to stand beside her in the bathroom to steady her while she washed. Turning and walking out of the room was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  After getting a pot of coffee on, he started breakfast, a rerun of the meal he’d made the night before, only this time he added fried cottage potatoes with caramelized onions. The wonderful smells flirted with his nostrils and made his stomach growl. He felt as if he’d dropped a good ten pounds over the last few days from not eating often enough.

  As Sissy hobbled out on her crutches to sit at the table, looking adorable in a flannel gown with tiny roses on a white background, Ben had to remind himself that she was clearheaded and didn’t need his help.

  “The coffee’s ready,” he said. “And breakfast is nearly done.”

  She struggled with her crutches as she pulled out a chair. Then she sighed with relief as she sat down. “First I need my happy syrup.”

  Ben hurried to pour her a measure. Her hand trembled as she took the cup. Taking a sponge bath and dressing by herself had taken a toll on her. Ben wished she had asked him for help. But on the other hand, seeing her half-naked might have obliterated all his self-control.

  “You’ve got orange juice and milk. Maybe a few sips will get the nasty taste out of your mouth and give you an energy boost.”

  “Orange juice, I think.”

  Ben poured her a glass and then returned to the stove. Everything was done. He switched off the burners and put lids on the pans to keep the food warm. After taking a seat across from Sissy, he said, “I’m sorry it hurts. If I could make it go away, I would.”

  “The syrup works fast. It’s already helping a little.” She tipped her head and studied him. “I think you’d take my place if you could.”

  Ben couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, if I could.”

  “Why do you love me so much?”

  It was a question that came at Ben from left field. “My mother always says that love just runs up and bites you, no rhyme or reason to it. But I don’t really believe that.” He slowly trailed his gaze over Sissy’s features. “This is going to sound self-centered. I’ve met a lot of women—nice ones, pretty ones, with great personalities—but I wasn’t willing to change who I am to make it work with any of them.”