Meant for Each Other

by Ginna Gray

  “Mike. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital to get Quinton, then I’m going to drive you both home and help get him settled in. I got Dr. Lawrence to cover for me, so I’m at your disposal all day.”

  The generous gesture touched Leah, but she felt guilty about taking Mike away from his practice.

  “Darling, this is sweet of you, but it really isn’t necessary. I’m sure I can manage.”

  “Ahhhh, spoken like a truly independent woman. Look, my sweet, I admire and respect that self-reliant spirit of yours, and I don’t doubt for a minute that you can handle this on your own, but the simple truth is it will be easier if I help.”

  “Yes, but your practice—”

  “Will survive without me for a day. It’s no use arguing, Leah. I’m doing this.”

  He cupped her chin in his hand and gazed deep into her eyes, and a look of such tenderness came over his face that her heart gave a little bump.

  “I told you I would always be there for you, sweetheart, and I meant it.” He bent and placed a quick kiss on her lips. When he raised his head his old irrepressible grin was back. “Besides, I want to be in on the homecoming, too.”

  Love and gratitude swelled in Leah’s chest, and as she gazed into those twinkling blue eyes she knew the battle was lost. How could she possibly refuse his offer after statements like that?

  It turned out that the release took most of the day. Between the numerous tests that Dr. Sweeney and the other physicians associated with Quinton’s case insisted upon and the unbelievable red tape involved in checking a patient out of the hospital, Leah’s patience was tried to the limit. Without Mike there to calm her ruffled feathers she probably would have blown her top and ruined her reputation at St. Francis for being cool and unflappable.

  Though Leah had been at her brother’s bedside every day since the surgery, when at last the tests and paperwork were done and he emerged from the protective bubble, she burst into tears and snatched him into her arms.

  At first Quinton returned her fierce hug, but as it did most males, the weeping made him uncomfortable, and after a moment he tried to pull away. However, even though he was eight inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than his sister, he could not pry her loose.

  “Hey, Sis, take it easy, will ya? This is supposed to be a happy day.”

  The surgical mask he wore muffled his voice, but still she heard the chagrin in his tone. Remotely, she experienced the same feeling, but she didn’t care. After all these months, it felt so wonderful to touch him again.

  Mike squeezed her shoulder. “C’mon now, sweetheart, buck up. I know those are happy tears, but you’re embarrassing the kid. Besides, it’s time to give someone else a chance.”

  The gentle teasing helped to calm her and served as a reminder that they were not alone. Dabbing at her wet eyes with the top edge of her gauze mask, Leah released Quinton and shot Dr. Sweeney and the attending nurse a sheepish look as Mike stepped forward.

  “Quinton. Welcome back to the real world, buddy.”

  Her brother grasped Mike’s outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. “Thanks, man. For everything.”

  “Hey, no problem.”

  The handshake ended, but still their hands remained clasped. For several seconds they simply looked at each other over the surgical masks that hid the lower halves of their faces. Then, overcome with emotion, they both surged forward, pulling each other into a bear hug, each pounding the other’s back.

  As Leah watched them, her chin wobbled and her precarious composure threatened to crack again.

  At seventeen, Quinton, though gangly, was almost as tall as Mike’s six foot one, but each favored his own father. In looks no family resemblance marked them as kin, yet the bond between the two was so obvious it amazed Leah that no one had guessed that they were half brothers.

  They held tight to each other, and over Mike’s shoulder Quinton’s face scrunched up, his eyes squeezed shut against threatening tears.

  “Hey, pal. Knock, knock.”

  Quinton sniffed a few times and gave a watery chuckle. Stepping back from the embrace, he knuckled his eyes and tried to look suitably long-suffering. “Who’s there?”

  “Freddie.”

  “Freddie who?”

  “Freddie or not, it’s time to go.”

  “Aw, man.” Quinton cuffed Mike’s shoulder, but all the same, his grin widened.

  Fresh tears trickled down Leah’s face. If she wasn’t already head over heels in love with Mike, she would have tumbled on the spot. The foolish joke struck exactly the right note to lighten the mood and spare her brother the supreme humiliation of losing his cool in public.

  “Well, now, how do you feel, Quinton?”

  His composure restored, Quinton turned to Dr. Sweeney. Through his gauze mask, Leah could see his lopsided smile.

  “Great. A little wobbly, though.”

  “That’s only to be expected, my boy. After all, you’ve been confined to bed and that small space surrounding it for months. But you’ll get your land legs back before long. Don’t worry.”

  Dr. Sweeney had already given both Leah and Quinton detailed instructions regarding medication, activity and visitors at least twice, but he went over them once more, just to be sure they understood. Finally, there was nothing left to cover and it really was time to go.

  Quinton balked a bit about having to leave in a wheelchair, until Mike assured him it was hospital policy, no exceptions.

  “Shoot, tiger, if all you’d been in here for was a hangnail, you’d still have to ride out in one of these contraptions. Anyway, you don’t want to get me in trouble with Nurse Zankowski, do you?” As though concerned someone might overhear, Mike cast a quick look around, then leaned in close to Quinton and whispered, “Trust me, the woman’s a first cousin to Attila the Hun. She’d skin me alive if I let you walk outta here.”

  That produced a chuckle and a reluctant, “Oh, all right. I’ll ride in the stupid thing.”

  “Good.”

  While Quinton settled into the chair and the nurse stacked all his belongings on a cart, Mike pulled open the door and held it wide. His eyes twinkled with devilment.

  “Knock, knock.”

  A groan went up from Dr. Sweeney and Leah. Quinton rolled his eyes, but he responded.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Armageddon.”

  “Armageddon who?”

  “Armageddon outta here. How about you?”

  Rolling his eyes, Quinton looked over his shoulder at Leah. “Jeez, Sis, let’s go before he comes up with another one.”

  Quinton’s good nature had made him a favorite at the hospital in the long months he’d been there. With surgical masks in place, almost the entire staff of St. Francis lined the corridor to see him off as Leah wheeled him out, everyone waving and calling out well-wishes and cracking jokes. Quinton beamed.

  A short while later, when Mike pulled his car into the driveway of Leah’s home, Cleo stood on the front steps, a surgical mask covering the lower half of her face and her arms outstretched.

  “Oh, my sweet boy, my baby,” she sniffled, enfolding Quinton against her ample bosom the instant he stepped from the car. “Thank the Lord, you’re home with us again.”

  “Thanks, Cleo,” he murmured, returning her hug. “It’s great to be back.”

  When the embrace ended, Quinton paused on the top step and turned to survey the neighborhood, his gaze greedily taking in every inch of the tree-lined boulevard that ran in front of his sister’s house, the stately old homes along it. Emotion shimmered in his eyes. “Man, is it ever great,” he said again, almost to himself.

  As she watched him, Leah’s own emotions almost choked her. She could only imagine how he must feel, returning home after all this time and his brush with death.

  For the next few months he would be confined to the house and would view the neighborhood only through the windows, so she didn’t rush him.

  As Quinton
continued to drink in the old familiar sights Leah looked at Mike, and she knew by his expression that he, too, was reluctant to end the moment. It was Cleo, with her ever-practical nature, who broke the spell and started them moving again.

  “Well, now, you must be tired. Let’s get you inside,” she said briskly, steering Quinton toward the door. “You’re probably hungry, as well, from the look of you. Thin as a rail.” Clucking, she shook her head. “It’s only to be expected, I suppose, eating hospital food for all these months. Probably deadened your taste buds. I declare, how anyone gets well eating that swill is a mystery to me. But don’t you worry, Quinton, love. We’ll soon remedy that. I’ve laid in supplies to cook up all your favorites. You just tell Cleo what you want for dinner and I’ll have it ready by the time your sister unpacks your things.”

  The boy’s eyes lit up. “Can I have fried chicken, and mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “I think I’m going to like your housekeeper,” Mike whispered to Leah as they followed the pair inside. “She sounds just like my grandma McCall.”

  In anticipation of Quinton’s return, Cleo had been cleaning and scrubbing for days. From ceiling to floor the old house shone like a new penny and smelled of soap and furniture polish, overlaid with the pungent odor of disinfectant. Leah doubted that even the heartiest germ could have survived the housekeeper’s all-out assault.

  “We’ve set a bed up in here for you,” Cleo said as she hurried down the central hallway and opened the library door. “Since all the bedrooms except mine are upstairs, we thought this would be best until you’ve regained your full strength. You should be nice and comfy here, and if you need anything during the night I’ll be able to hear you. As you can see, your sister and I wrestled that old armoire down from the attic to hold your clothes and other belongings.”

  Mike sent Leah an admonishing look. “You should have gotten me to do that.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think of it.” Over the years, she had grown accustomed to doing everything herself. Besides, she knew it wouldn’t be wise to get used to depending on Mike.

  He sighed and shook his head. “There’s that stubborn independence again.”

  Mike made several trips to the car to retrieve the various things that had accumulated in Quinton’s room since the surgery.

  “Well, that’s the last of—”

  “Shh.” With one forefinger across her lips, Leah pointed to the bed with the other.

  Coming to a halt, Mike looked in that direction and smiled. Quinton lay sprawled on top of the bedspread, out like a light, his lips slightly parted. He was snoring softly.

  Mike tiptoed across the room and put the sacks of books and video games down on the desk. He winked at Leah and whispered, “Pooped out on you, did he?”

  “I suggested that he take a nap before dinner, but he wouldn’t hear of it,” she whispered back as she slipped one of her brother’s shirts on a hanger and put it in the armoire. “He swore he wasn’t tired. He was just going to stretch out and talk to me while I unpacked his things. He fell asleep in the middle of a sentence.”

  “It’s been a big day for him. All that excitement wore him out. It’ll do him good to rest for a while. And I sure don’t mind having a few minutes alone with my girl.” Mike slipped his arms around Leah’s waist, and when she darted a surprised look over her shoulder he pressed his lips to hers.

  Even through two layers of gauze masks, the kiss was oddly sensual. The moist warmth of his breath seeped through the cloth and feathered over her skin, into her mouth, sending shivers down her spine and making her nipples contract and pucker into hard nubs. The tip of his tongue pushed against the gauze. Hers responded with a like action. The touch was shockingly erotic.

  The kiss was a lingering, voluptuous caress; his arms around her, a solid comfort. As the familiar melting sensation overtook her she sighed and surrendered to it.

  A tingle rippled through Leah all the way to her toes, and her heart tripped along at double time. Her mind floated free, and for those few moments she became a purely sensual creature, responding to the pleasure and thrumming emotion Mike’s touch never failed to evoke.

  When the kiss ended, she leaned back against his broad chest. Closing her eyes, Leah savored his warmth, his smell, the solidness of him, and felt her nerves settle, her body loosen. Until that moment she had not realized that the day had taken its toll on her, as well.

  While she was delighted to have her brother home again, she realized suddenly that a part of her was terrified at the daunting responsibility. In the hospital there had been specialists and teams of nurses and the latest equipment and technology that medical science had to offer. She was a doctor, it was true, but cancer treatment was not her field. Most of what she knew about leukemia she had learned since Quinton’s diagnosis.

  He had made excellent progress, but she knew that the proof of success lay with this last phase of his recovery. He had been cut loose. Without the protection of sterile isolation and constant monitoring, over the next few months his fragile, newly recovered immune system would be put to the test. The thought terrified her.

  But in Mike’s arms the nerves she hadn’t known were strung so tight calmed and the taut muscles in her neck and shoulders relaxed.

  Mike was the only person Leah had totally trusted since her mother’s death, the only one with whom she felt secure enough to let down her guard. With Mike she didn’t have to be the mature, reliable daughter or the cool, superefficient physician; she didn’t have to shoulder all the load herself. Somehow, without her knowing quite how it had come about, he had become the tower of strength that she could lean on, the bedrock foundation of her life.

  Leah opened her eyes and frowned, disturbed by the stray thought.

  Straightening, she turned and gave Mike what she hoped was a playful smile and a push. “Here, here, that’s enough of that. I don’t need you distracting me right now. So go on, get out.”

  “Oh, so I distract you, do I?” He reached for her again, but she slapped his hands away.

  “Now, cut that out. Mike, will you behave? I have work to do.”

  “I can help,” he offered with a leering waggle of his eyebrows.

  “Forget it. I know what kind of help you’d be. Just get out. Go bother Cleo in the kitchen.”

  “Throwing me at another woman, are you?”

  “Yes. Now, go.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m going. But if Cleo and I elope it’ll be your fault.”

  “I’ll take that risk.”

  Leah pretended to fold one of Quinton’s T-shirts, but when Mike turned to leave she watched him saunter out, adoration and sadness shimmering in her eyes.

  In the hall, Mike pulled off his mask and followed his nose to the kitchen. He poked his head inside and smiled when he spotted Cleo at the stove. Cookies cooled on wire racks on the counter, and pots and skillets bubbled and popped on the stove, all sending off delicious aromas.

  “Mmm, it sure smells good in here.”

  Cleo shot a startled look over her shoulder. She appeared flustered to find him in her kitchen. “Dr. McCall. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Stepping into the room, Mike let the door swing shut behind him and strolled over to the counter beside her. “I thought I might talk you out of some coffee.”

  “Certainly. I’ll get you a cup.” She started to step around Mike, but he held up a hand.

  “Don’t trouble yourself. I can get it. Just point me in the right direction.”

  “Oh, but—” she began, but he had already opened the cabinet above the coffeemaker and pulled out a ceramic mug.

  “Well, then...” Twisting her hands in her apron, Cleo stared at him as he picked up the carafe and poured the mug full.

  Mike leaned his hips back against the counter and took a sip of coffee, watching her over the rim of the mug. He lifted his eyebrows. “What? Did I do something wrong? Was I not supposed to help myself?”
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  “Oh, no, you’re more than welcome to. It’s just that...well, none of Miss Leah’s young men ever has.”

  “I see. And have there been many young men in Leah’s life?” he probed shamelessly, and filched a cookie from one of the wire racks.

  “Not at all. Since her engagement to that Lyle Ballinger ended she’s hardly had a social life. I can count on the fingers of one hand the times she’s dated since then. Until you came along, that is.

  “Now, that Lyle, he wouldn’t set foot in a kitchen, much less pour his own coffee.” Giving a disgusted snort, Cleo went back to the stove and turned the frying chicken pieces.

  “I take it you didn’t care for the guy.”

  “Couldn’t abide him. You ask me, Miss Leah never would’ve gotten engaged to him if it hadn’t been for her father and his missus.”

  “What do you mean?” Mike plucked another cookie from the rack and bit off half.

  “Just that they kept throwing him at her. And they discouraged all other young men from coming around. Mr. Ballinger’s parents were rich and bad the right pedigree. I reckon they thought that it was a perfect match. No matter that he was a spoiled, self-centered snob.”

  “What about Leah? She has a good head on her shoulders. Couldn’t she see what he was?” he asked, and popped another cookie into his mouth.

  “Oh, he had plenty of surface charm, mind you. And Miss Leah was lonely and starved for love. Has been ever since she lost her mother when she was just a girl. Also, she wanted to please her father. Deep down, though, I think she always knew that Lyle was a louse. And if you don’t stop eating those cookies, young man, you’re going to spoil your dinner.”

  “Nah, nothing spoils my appetite.” The admonition pleased Mike enormously. He doubted if Cleo realized how much she had loosened up in the last few minutes. Since Leah’s parents had left and he’d been coming to the house regularly he’d been trying to get past the housekeeper’s starchy exterior. Ever since he’d met her, she had treated him with cool wariness, as though she were reserving judgment about him.

  “So, what made him break the engagement?”