For Her Eyes Only

by Sharon Sala

  But getting dressed wasn’t as simple as she’d expected it to be. Every time she leaned down, the room started to spin and she was forced to grab onto the bed to keep from falling. It took all she had just to put on her underwear and jeans, and by then she was in a cold sweat. Barefoot and clutching a T-shirt to her chest, she staggered to a nearby chair, where she sat staring at the tennis shoes still in her closet. They were less than a yard away and it might as well have been a mile. Hating this feeling of helplessness, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.

  “Bug breath.”

  It was a fair comment on her condition, as well as her state of mind.

  * * *

  This time when Stone entered Vanderbilt Memorial, he went in the front door and took the stairs on the right to the third floor. He came out of the stairwell, his long stride carrying him down the hall with single-minded intent. Under the weak glow of the generator-powered lighting, the shadows beneath his eyes seemed darker, the strain lines at the corners of his mouth deeper, and the sun-bleached highlights in his hair gleamed like wheat in a noonday sun. His expression was grim. It was what his friends called his “cop face.” But all he needed was some more rest. And that would come, after he’d seen for himself that Jessie was really all right. He’d tried to talk himself out of this trip all the way to the hospital, yet when he’d parked and gotten out of his car, he knew he would never have been able to rest without seeing her face…hearing her voice…even suffering the guilt he would feel when he saw her. He had to know she was all right. Then he could rest.

  “Richardson, haven’t you gone home yet?”

  Stone paused and turned. Noah Howell was coming out of a room he’d just passed.

  “Hi, Doc. I thought I would look in on Jessie Hanson. Last night, they said she’d been put in 339. Do you know if she’s still there?”

  Noah nodded. “But not for long. I just released her to go home. In fact, I’m on my way to the nurse’s desk to call her sister to come and get her.”

  Stone didn’t stop to think why he was offering, he just blurted it out before he changed his own mind.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll see that she gets home okay.”

  Noah grinned. Stone’s defenses went up.

  “Get that look off your face,” Stone warned. “Just because I’m concerned about an old friend, it doesn’t mean anything. Hell. I dated her sister once. Besides, she’s just a kid.”

  “If my memory serves, she’s twenty-six, old buddy. That’s hardly robbing the cradle,” Noah said.

  Stone ignored the comment and knocked, waiting for an invitation to enter. When it came, he went in, unprepared for the woman inside.

  * * *

  Jessica jerked as the knock sounded on her door. Still sprawled in the chair with the T-shirt clutched to her chest and expecting one of the hospital staff, she spoke without thinking.

  “Come in.”

  When Stone walked into the room, she gasped and grabbed her shirt with both hands, holding it up beneath her chin.

  “How dare you!” she muttered, and tried hard to glare, but frowning made her head hurt worse.

  Stone was transfixed. He’d expected her to be safe in bed and covered up with a sheet, not half dressed and sprawled out in a chair with a shirt clutched to her front like a shield. All he could think to say was “You told me to come in.”

  Jessica’s lower lip slid forward. “But I didn’t know it was you.”

  She looked so lost and hurt sitting there. Stone fought the urge to hold her.

  “Sorry, do you want me to leave?”

  She nodded, then groaned. If only she could remember to speak instead, it would be a lot less painful.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She grimaced, closing her eyes to steady the sudden sway of the room.

  “Of course I’m not all right!” She sighed, trying to relax the tension knotting at the back of her neck.

  Stone frowned. The past two years had certainly changed one thing about Jessie. She never used to be so angry.

  “I told Doc Howell I’d take you home.”

  Jessica’s eyes flew open, and the shirt began to slip. When it revealed two mounds of creamy flesh held fast beneath a white lace bra, Stone reacted by pointing at the T-shirt.

  “You gonna wear that home or just carry it?”

  Jessica’s eyes teared in frustration as she stopped its escape. “I got dizzy.”

  His expression softened. “Need some help?”

  She hesitated.

  “Come on, honey. I’ve seen it before.”

  The look on her face was priceless, and Stone knew he’d reminded them both of something better left forgotten.

  Jessica’s ire rose. “Just turn around, you mealymouthed snake.”

  He grinned slightly as he turned. “Dare I turn my back on a woman who’s just called me a snake?”

  Jessica glared at his backside, reminding herself to ignore the wide shoulders, narrow hips and long legs as she thrust both arms in the shirt, yanking it down over her head in haste. But she’d forgotten the bandage at the edge of her hairline and yelped in pain when the neck pulled too tight for comfort.

  Stone spun, took one look at the predicament she’d put herself in and stalked across the room without waiting for an invitation.

  “Easy,” he warned, and pulled the shirt back up enough to give himself room to maneuver. She started to sputter. He frowned. “Calm down, damn it. I’m trying to help.”

  When she muttered something he didn’t understand, he figured it was better to let lost curses die. This time when he eased the shirt down, he started the opening at the back of her head first, then pulled it toward the front, stretching the fabric as it slid past the bandage. When it cleared her nose, he looked down. Two orbs of pure blue were gleaming up at him with malevolence.

  “You’re welcome,” he drawled.

  She resented his arrogance. Why did devastating men always smirk?

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  The question took him off guard. What was he doing here? Last night had resulted in a multitude of disasters that had sent literally dozens of Grand Springs residents to the hospital. And Jessica wasn’t the only one he knew who’d been admitted. Why had he felt the urge to make sure she, above all others, was going to be okay? Uneasy as to how to answer her, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  “I was on my way home. Thought I’d stop by.”

  “You live on the other side of town.”

  His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t prepared to pursue the issue. Not with her. Not even with himself.

  “I know where I live. Do you want to go home or not?”

  Jessica’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, please.”

  Satisfied to be back on firm ground, Stone nodded. “That’s fine, then.” He looked down at her feet. “Where are your shoes?”

  Jessica pointed toward the closet and started to cry. Not loudly, just huge, silent tears spilling out of her eyes and down her face.

  At that moment, something tore loose inside of Stone that had nothing to do with compassion. If he hadn’t been so rattled by a particular tear hanging on the edge of her lip, he might have realized the emotion for what it was. But he was, and he didn’t, and by the time he got the shoes on her feet, the notion of pursuing the thought had long since passed.

  Their drive home was silent. A half hour later, he pulled into Jessica’s driveway and parked. Every house on the block was little more than a dark shape against the shadows of the coming night. Now and then a weak glow of some lantern or candle could be seen shining through curtains, but it was the depth of darkness out on the streets that made Jessica jumpy.

  After offering to carry her inside, and getting a quick glare for his efforts, Stone settled for walking her to the house. Lit only by the glow of a three-quarter moon, he guided her to the porch steps. They were at the door before Jessica drew back in dismay and slapped her hand against the
side of her leg.

  “Wormy, wormy fudge,” she muttered.

  He chuckled beneath his breath. One thing he’d loved about her was the uniqueness of her colorful language, but even that sounded gross to him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My keys are in my purse, and it must be back in my office at the lodge.”

  “Not to worry,” Stone said, and slipped a small lock pick from his jacket pocket. Moments later, the lock clicked and the door swung open. He stepped aside.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  She glanced up at him in silent appreciation. “Thank goodness you’re on our side.”

  Stone followed her in, shutting the door behind him. “Got a flashlight or candles?”

  “Both in the kitchen. Top drawer on the right.”

  He traded the lock pick for his own small flashlight. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  When he started toward the back of the house, Jessica frowned.

  “How do you know where the kitchen is?”

  “I’m following my nose.”

  She sniffed. He was right. The scent of burned bacon was still evident.

  Smart aleck.

  But she didn’t voice her thoughts. She didn’t have it in her to complain anymore. An old Elvis Presley song came to mind as she leaned against the wall to keep from falling. Yes, her legs were shaky, and her knees were more than weak. She was definitely all shook up, but from the accident, of course. Not from the fact that she’d just spent the better part of an hour with a man who’d haunted more than one of her dreams.

  Jessica closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. When she looked up, he was coming toward her, carrying a lit candle. His face was cast in shadow, but the cut of his cheekbones, a broad slash of jaw and his lower lip were highlighted by the soft yellow glow.

  Exhaling slowly, she watched as he set the candle on a nearby table and then led her toward the chair beside it. She sat.

  “Here,” Stone said, and dropped her flashlight into her lap.

  Suddenly the intimacy of being alone in the darkness with this man was too much. She’d spent two years trying to forget how it felt to go to sleep and wake up in his arms.

  “Goodbye, and thank you for bringing me home.”

  His easy laugh did things to her nerves she didn’t need to feel.

  As Stone chuckled, it crossed his mind that his ex-wife would have cried and clung with every ounce of her being. She’d hated his job as a cop, but she’d hated her lonely life as a cop’s wife more.

  “Damn, honey. I’ve had the brush-off before, but never so sweetly.”

  Muttering beneath her breath, she looked away. “That wasn’t a brush-off, and stop calling me ‘honey.’”

  He cupped her chin, tilting her face until she was forced to look at him.

  “Hey, you.”

  Now her nerves were really on edge. There was a low, breathless quality to his voice that she’d never thought she’d hear. At least, not when speaking to her.

  “What?”

  “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  Jessica’s heart started to thump erratically. “Long time since what?”

  His voice deepened. “Since we’ve been together.”

  “I’ve spent two years trying to forget,” she muttered.

  “So that’s why you left without so much as a goodbye.”

  She swallowed, trying to get past the pain. “You’d made yourself painfully clear,” she said, and then looked deeply into his eyes. “There wasn’t anything left to say…was there?”

  He looked away, and then back. “Will you be afraid?”

  She gripped the arms of the chair as her heart skipped a beat. Afraid? The only thing that ever scared me was losing you and I survived that. This is a piece of cake. But she didn’t answer.

  “If you are, I can have a patrol car swing by here every so often to make sure you’re okay.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I’m not afraid of the dark, and I want you to go.”

  He sighed, then stood up, hesitating. Sitting there in the dark with nothing but candlelight by which to see, she seemed awfully small and so alone. He couldn’t bear to leave her…at least not like this. He thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled out his card.

  “If you need me, the number is on the card.”

  Jessica fought an urge to cry. Her fingers curled around the card as he shut the door behind him. Even after the sound of his car engine had faded away, she sat unmoving, clutching the card as if it was her lifeline to normalcy in a world lost in darkness.

  She fell asleep in the chair, and when she awoke, the candle was out, yet the room was not dark. Disoriented, it took her a moment to focus on the fact that the light she was seeing was coming through the windows, and that it was growing brighter and brighter with each passing second.

  Tension pulled the muscles at the back of her neck, and her breath began to shorten. Her fingers dug into the arms of the chair as the familiarity of her home began to change before her eyes. Unable to look away from the light, she stared into a nightmare that wouldn’t let her go.

  * * *

  Olivia Stuart smiled as she walked around the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to the ensemble she’d chosen for Hal’s wedding. Teal was her favorite color. Somewhere between true blue and green, it accentuated her coloring to perfection. She paused in front of the sink and picked up a picture that stood on the windowsill, smiling to herself as she remembered the day it had been taken. Eve had been fussing with her hair, and Hal had been laughing at her futile attempts to make it glamorous. Even as adults, they were good children.

  Just as she started to move toward the table, to pick up her purse and the umbrella lying there, the scent of flowers drifted into the room. A slight frown drew between her brows as she tried to identify the scent. Gardenias! She was smelling gardenias!

  A hand came around her mouth without warning, and Olivia dropped the picture and shrieked, swallowing her own cry as the fingers upon her face clamped too tightly for the sound to escape. Fear shattered her control as she reached behind her, trying to tear free. The struggle was brief. Shock turned to pain as a sharp, burning sensation pierced the back of her leg.

  She remembered thinking that this didn’t make sense. Her leg had been stabbed, but there was pain in her chest. She reached out, gasping desperately for air. She wasn’t going to make Hal’s wedding, after all.

  My son…my son.

  Pain blossomed and burst, splintering throughout her body in a white-hot heat.

  * * *

  Jessica jerked. The bright orb of light was still present, but there was a constant, repetitive thump that hadn’t been there before. She blinked, then blinked again as she realized this wasn’t part of the dream. Someone was knocking on her door.

  It took her a moment to switch gears, and when she did, her first thought was that Stone had come back. And then she heard her sister’s voice.

  “Jessica! Are you in there? Jessie, it’s me, Brenda! Let me in!”

  Jessica blinked again, her perception of what she’d just seen suddenly clear. The light was nothing more than the headlights of Brenda’s car shining through the sheer curtains at her front window.

  I must have been dreaming again.

  “Be right there,” she called, and headed for the door. As soon as she turned the knob, Brenda came rushing in and threw her arms around Jessica’s neck.

  “I went to the hospital and they said you’d been dismissed! Why didn’t you call?”

  “I tried. It was busy, so I got a ride home.”

  Brenda threw up her arms in disgust and pointed to Jessica’s phone on a nearby table. “Is your phone working yet?”

  “I don’t know. Stone brought me home. I didn’t think to check.”

  Even in the shadows, Jessica was aware of her sister’s shock.

  “Stone? As in Richardson?”

  Jessica shrugged. “Do we know another? For Pete’s sake, Brenda,
come inside. I need to sit down.”

  Brenda’s mouth pursed. “Obviously you’ve been keeping secrets from me. However, we’ll discuss that later. You need to be in bed. Here, take my flashlight.”

  “I have one somewhere,” Jessica muttered, looking back toward the chair in which she’d been sitting.

  “No. Take mine and don’t move,” Brenda said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jessica waited while her sister killed the car engine, turned off the lights, then returned, carrying an overnight bag in her hand.

  Jessica pointed the beam of the flashlight at the small blue bag. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Spending the night. And don’t argue. You have a concussion. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  Jessica groaned. The last thing she needed was a baby-sitter, but from the look on Brenda’s face, it would seem she was getting one, just the same.

  “You’re a mess,” Brenda said, fingering Jessica’s matted hair and drawn expression. “Come with me. I’ll get you cleaned up and tucked in a bed.”

  “I don’t need to be tucked in. Besides, someone told me water is being rationed.”

  “Up to now, you haven’t used any, so I’d say you’re allowed a quick bath. And you know what Mother used to say. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  Jessica sighed. She knew better than to argue with Brenda when she got on a roll.

  “Then, will you help me wash my hair? It feels awful.”

  Brenda hugged her. “We’ll have to be careful not to get your stitches wet, but I suppose something can be arranged.”

  “Then, okay. But you have to stick to your side of the bed.”

  In the glow of the flashlight, Jessica saw her sister grin.

  * * *

  Jessica awoke in a panic and sat straight up in bed. Her heart was pounding, and the scent of gardenias was thick in her nostrils. She covered her face with her hands, fighting the urge to cry. Why was this happening? Why did she keep having this same awful dream, over and over and over?

  Brenda sighed and rolled onto her back, one arm outflung on Jessica’s pillow, the other trailing off the side of the bed. Jessica glanced down and frowned. As if the dreams weren’t bad enough, Brenda had a tendency to take her half of the bed from the middle. She patted Brenda on the shoulder.