The car approached the circular drive and slowed as they passed the brick skirt of the wide portico. “The MacKlennas built the house in the late seventeen hundreds on the same floor plan as Monticello,” Elliott said.
“It even has an oculus.” Appreciation flowed through her voice.
“There’s a secret passage to the top. I can’t navigate it now, but I’ll show you the way.”
“A house with lots of secrets, I bet.”
Too many. “We’ll go in through the garage. Not a dramatic entrance, but safer than icy steps.”
Jake parked in the six-bay garage. Elliott led Meredith into the house through the mudroom, and from there, they stepped into the hallway. He pointed toward the front of the house. “The housekeeper prepared the front upstairs room. Jake will take your bags there. I thought you’d prefer some privacy, but I hope you’ll sleep with me.”
Her cheeks flushed. “After last night, I’d come after you again, but a lot sooner.”
He leaned in and kissed her, cursing the damn crutches. “I would have knocked on your door within the next fifteen minutes if you hadn’t knocked on mine.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Really.”
Jake entered with her bags and headed toward the steps. “Should I put these in the front room?”
“Yes,” Elliott said, “and be sure the heat’s on.”
“Peter sent me a text asking if he could meet with you in the morning,” Jake said. “What should I tell him?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment at eight-thirty, and I need transportation. Kevin can take me if no one else is available. Tell Peter to arrange a time with Allie later in the morning.” Elliott continued down the hall, passing the gold-leaf portraits of the MacKlennas.
“Who are these men?” Meredith asked.
He nodded toward the first portrait as he continued down the hallway toward the office. “That’s Thomas I, then Thomas II, Sean I, II, III, IV, V, and VI.”
“And the women?”
“That one,” Elliott said, passing the first of two smaller portraits, “is Sean I’s twin sister. The other woman is her daughter.”
Meredith stood in front of the portrait, but Elliott kept walking. “What year was this painted?”
He reached the office door. “Early 1850s.”
Meredith cocked her head first one way and then the other. “She’s a beautiful woman. Looks familiar.”
“She has that look about her. Do you want wine or whiskey?” he asked. For three months, he’d avoided discussing the appearance of the portrait with the staff and didn’t intend to discuss it further with Meredith.
“Whiskey,” she said. “Let me pour. You sit.” Relieved, he did, sitting in the same wingback chair in front of the fireplace that he’d occupied earlier during his meeting with Manning. She poured drinks at the bar, handed Elliott a glass, and sat across from him. “This is not the office I had pictured for you.”
“This belonged to Sean. I use it, but I have two others on the farm. I move around.”
“You don’t look well. Why don’t you go to bed?”
At least he wore pressed clothes, because everything else about him must look like crap. “Do you mind turning in early?”
“Early?” she asked. “My biological clock has no idea what time it is. I’ll carry the drinks. You lead the way.”
Elliott and Meredith entered the first-floor master suite just as Kevin walked out of the bathroom, wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt and carrying a handful of dirty laundry. Elliott stopped and leaned heavily on the crutches. “Meredith, this is Kevin Allen. Wherever I am, he’s usually close by.”
“Great article in Wine Digest, Ms. Montgomery. I’m looking forward to tasting your new wine.”
“I don’t have any Cailean on the plane, but I do have several other labels. I’ll get you a few bottles before I leave.”
He rubbed his hands together, smiling. “Thank you.” Then he turned to Elliott and said, “I laid everything out. When you’re ready to shower, buzz me.”
Meredith set Elliott’s drink on the table next to the bed. “Why don’t I go unpack, and Kevin can help you now. I’ll be back in what . . .” She glanced at Elliott and then at Kevin, “Thirty minutes?”
Elliott nodded.
As soon as Meredith left the room, Kevin dropped the clothes into the nearest chair and rushed to Elliott’s side. “You can hardly stand. I don’t think you’ll be much good to your lady friend tonight.” He eased Elliott to the side of the bed.
“Get my medicine bag,” Elliott said.
Kevin grabbed the bag off the bathroom counter. “If you have a shot now, you definitely won’t be able to—”
“It can’t be helped.” Elliott blew out a ragged breath. “Damn. Up the dosage. The pain’s never been this bad.”
Kevin gave him a shot in the hip, disposed of the syringe, put the medicine back into the bag, and zipped it. “When you’re ready, I’ll help you get a shower.”
“Give me a couple of minutes.” He stretched out on the bed, thinking how embarrassed he’d be if he couldn’t get his dick up. The way he felt at the moment, he knew he couldn’t. He rarely second-guessed his decisions, but he considered that he’d made a mistake inviting Meredith to the farm. She only planned to spend the night, so maybe he’d feel better in a few hours. He could make love once, then he’d put her back on the plane. In a few weeks when the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d go out to California and spend time with her. Right now, he wasn’t much good to anyone.
“Come on,” Kevin said. “You’ll feel better after a hot shower.”
Elliott groaned. Kevin supported his back as he sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Give me my drink.” Elliott tossed back the whiskey. The liquid fire burned past his lips and tongue and swirled down his throat. If only it could cut the pain the way it had in the beginning. But that was a hell of a long time ago.
With Kevin’s encouragement, he made it into the shower, where he nearly passed out. “Kevin.” Elliott grasped the shower bar, holding tight as if to a rope attached to a gondola. If he let go, he’d be in trouble. If he held on, he might be in worse shape. “For God’s sake, get me out of here.” A few minutes later, he sat on the edge of the bed with a drink in his hand.
“Drink it slow, Boss. It’s the last one.”
“Oh, go on,” Elliott said, waving his free hand, “Get out of here and take the dirty laundry with you.”
Kevin loaded his arms with the clothes he’d earlier left in the chair. “I’ll be back at seven to help you get ready for your doctor’s appointment.”
Crap. Elliott didn’t want to go to the doctor. He’d catch hell from the drill sergeant PA who would bust his balls. She’d chastise him more than Lyles would, and he’d hang his head a wee bit in shame. “Don’t come barging in here,” he said to Kevin in a tone of voice clouded with dread.
“Your secrets are safe with me.”
“The hell they are. You and Louise gossip like two old hens.”
Kevin’s face went slack, paling slightly, and his shoulder slumped. “I don’t gossip.”
“I don’t give a crap. It’s Meredith’s privacy that concerns me.”
“Since when were you concerned about anybody’s privacy?”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Elliott said, ignoring the question. He picked up a throw pillow to toss at Kevin, but Meredith appeared at the door.
“Is this a good time?”
“He’s all yours,” Kevin said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Elliott forced a smile to his lips. She looked breathtaking in a pair of deep purple lounging pajamas. His dick played dead. Traitor. Elliott leaned back on the pillows and patted the bed beside him. “Come here, gorgeous.”
She climbed in beside him. “Hmm. It’s warm.” She rolled over onto her side and leaned her head on her hand, re
vealing the swell of her breasts below the pajama top neckline. Breasts always got a rise out of him, but not tonight. Traitor.
“I turned on the heated blanket. It gets cold in here,” he said.
“I like to keep it cold in the bedroom, so I can burrow underneath heavy comforters. But tonight I’ve got you to keep me warm.” She pressed her hand against his forehead. “I think you’re warmer than the blanket.”
Hell, yeah, he was hot, but not the way he needed to be. “I just took a shower.” Never in his life had he been forced to tell a woman he couldn’t perform.
“Do you want me to turn out the lights?”
He picked up the remote control from the bedside table. “This does everything—a one-stop shop. There’s a button for security, music, lights, and phone.”
“What about 911?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair.
Her nails weren’t too long or too short. He hated long nails. “Hope you’re not anticipating making a call.”
Her eyes widened, and she gave him what looked to be a tentative smile. “After Jonathan’s death, I’m paranoid. I need to know where to get help.”
“If you need help while on MacKlenna Farm, push this red button. It automatically calls the security office and Jake’s mobile.”
She continued teasing his hair. He wanted her fingers wrapped around his dick, not running through his graying temple, but he wasn’t getting hard. At least his hair kept her hand busy and his ego less deflated. Her index finger trailed down the side of his face until it reached his mouth, where she traced the outline of his lips, exploring. “Doesn’t Jake ever get time off?”
“Some, but he rarely takes it.” He found her steady gaze unsettling. God, he hated disappointing her. He focused on the remote out of necessity. “This green button controls the lights.”
“Which one fixes breakfast?” A smile teased the corners of her mouth.
“Mrs. Collins does that, and she’ll be here by six.”
“I’m worried about your fever,” Meredith said.
He drew in a deep, ragged breath, and his chin dropped dejectedly to his chest. “I’d make a lousy lover tonight. The pain meds interfere with an erection. The mind’s willing, but the body—”
“I can wait until you’re well.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She put her arm across his chest and placed her head on his shoulder. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Chapter Thirty
MacKlenna Mansion – December 27
ELLIOTT’S MOANING WOKE Meredith in a sizzling panic. The digital clock on the bedside table gave off the only light in the room. She touched his forehead—hot and sweaty. Waiting for a morning doctor’s visit might be too late. She flipped on the lamp, found the remote on the table, and pushed the red button. The house phone rang immediately.
“Dr. Fraser, this is Jake. What’s your emergency?”
“It’s Meredith. Elliott needs an ambulance.”
“Is it his leg or something else?”
Elliott’s pallor sent tentacles of fear that leeched on to her, sucking her breath. She began to shake. “I think it’s something else. How long will it take?”
“We have our own ambulance and a paramedic on call. Hold just a minute.”
Seconds ticked by annoyingly slow, and with each second, her mouth got drier.
“The paramedic’s on his way. He has a key. Tell me when you hear him at the door. His name is Skip.”
She jumped out of bed, put on her slippers, and paced. “Come on. Come on.”
“Is Dr. Fraser having trouble breathing?” Jake asked.
She leaned over Elliott and listened. “His respiration is shallow, but he doesn’t appear to be struggling.”
“You should be hearing Skip now. Where’s Kevin?”
“Upstairs asleep, I guess.” She tried to still her heart, quiet the rapid thump. “Tell the paramedic to hurry. Please.”
“Ms. Montgomery. Look at the bandage. Is there blood?”
A hot rush of annoyance heated her words. “Yes.” Time passed and still no Skip. “Where is he?” Her tone demanded an answer.
“Stay calm. He’s on his way. Where’s Kevin?”
“Upstairs.”
“Press the intercom button and wake him. I see red lights at the front of the mansion.”
Within moments, the rumble of a man’s voice came from the hallway. “Ms. Montgomery.”
“He’s here,” she said into the phone, breathing relief.
“I’m going to hang up now,” Jake said. “I’ll be there in three minutes.”
“We’re in here,” Meredith called out. Then she pressed the intercom button. “Kevin, we need you. Hurry.”
Almost instantly, he replied, “Coming.”
A man dressed in black EMT gear entered the room and made his way to Elliott’s side of the bed. “Dr. Fraser, can you hear me?” The paramedic checked Elliott’s leg and took the pulse in his ankle.
Elliott moaned, and his eyes rolled back into his head.
Kevin ran into the room, wearing gym shorts and no shirt, hair disheveled. “What the hell? How long has he been like this?”
“His moaning woke me.” She rubbed her temples. What time did we fall asleep? “We drifted off around nine o’clock. I didn’t hear anything until just a few minutes ago.”
“The pulse in his right ankle is very weak,” Skip said. “Has he said anything about his foot being cold?”
Kevin heaved a sigh. “No, and he would have told me. If it’s the arterial graft, that could account for the severe pain he’s been having.”
Jake entered the room, clipping his radio to his duty belt. “How is he?”
“My guess,” Skip said, “is that he’s got a clot in the arterial graft. The pulse in his right foot is very weak. I hope Dr. Lyles is on call tonight.”
“I’ve alerted the hospital,” Jake said. “I’ve got two guys bringing in the stretcher.”
“Kevin, get dressed. We’ll start an IV when we get him in the ambulance. Get his meds, too,” Skip said.
Two security officers rolled the stretcher into the room. They stepped aside as Jake and Skip lifted Elliott and secured him with belts.
“Is there anything else about his condition we need to know?” Skip asked.
“His leg was bleeding yesterday, too,” she said.
Skip took a pad and pen from his pocket and jotted down a few notes. “You can ride with us, Ms. Montgomery. It’ll take several minutes to get an IV started. That should give you time to dress.”
“I’ll take her,” Jake said.
Meredith fought back a wealth of tears. She had no idea what an arterial graft was or how it could make Elliott’s foot cold. Right now the paramedic needed to focus on Elliott’s care, not on giving her an anatomy lesson.
“You don’t need to do that. With GPS, I’ll find my way. I’m used to driving in unfamiliar places. Where are you taking him?”
Skip put his notepad away. “University of Kentucky Medical Center.”
“Are you sure you want to drive?” Jake said.
“I might have to come back to the house on short notice, and I’d prefer to have a car available,” Meredith said. She picked up Elliott’s cell phone from the bedside table. “Is there family we should notify?”
Jake fingered the buckle on his service belt. “The MacKlennas and his father are gone now. They were all the family he had.”
Louise and Evelyn were the closest to family members Elliott had. They needed to know about his condition. The similarity struck her. She had no family either. If paramedics rushed Meredith to the hospital, the only person on her notification list was Cate.
After Jake and Skip wheeled Elliott to the ambulance, she hurried upstairs to change. Fifteen minutes later, she drove the Mercedes out of the garage with the GPS set to direct her to the Medical Center. She cruised through town in the dead of night with Christmas lights shining on the icy streets. When she arrived at the
hospital, she saw the ambulance parked at the entrance to the Emergency Room.
A row of empty parking spaces fronted the ER entrance. She pulled the car into the closest space but couldn’t turn off the engine. She couldn’t open the door. She couldn’t get out. Frozen in her memories of Jonathan airlifted to the hospital and her frantic race to arrive in time to give the doctors his advance directive—no resuscitation. But they had put him on life support by the time she arrived, stripping the decision from her hands. Days later, exhausted, she made the excruciating call to turn off the machine that never should have been turned on. She had failed to follow through with the only promise he’d ever extracted from her.
Could she make a similar decision for Elliott? Of course not, nor would the hospital allow her. She’d only known him a handful of days, albeit very special days, but she knew so little about him. Her fickle heart, though, thought it knew all it needed to know. That’s why she’d invited him into her bed, and that’s why she was sitting in the parking lot in the middle of the night in front of a hospital she’d never entered in a town she’d never visited.
Deep within her reserves, she found the courage to turn off the car and cut through the snow-covered grass to the sidewalk leading to the ER entrance. A handful of weary-eyed people sat in the waiting room, shoulders slumping under the weight of whatever brought them to the hospital at such a dreary hour. Meredith knocked on the receptionist’s window to get the woman’s attention and told her she’d like to see Dr. Fraser, who’d just been brought in by ambulance.
“Are you family?” the receptionist asked.
Meredith steeled her back and lied. “Yes.” The receptionist buzzed the door, and she went back to room number ten. The curtain was open. Elliott wore a non-descript print hospital gown, and the ER staff had hooked him up to a bank of beeping machines.
A triage nurse, standing next to the bed, glanced up as Meredith entered the room. “Are you Ms. Montgomery? He’s been asking for you.”
The Last MacKlenna Page 17
