Light This Candle (Harlequin More Than Words)

by Cindy Dees

  A sob climbed in her chest at the mention of Jimmy. She’d had no one to talk with about him since he’d died. In fact, he was a subject everyone assiduously avoided around her. It was weird to hear Mitch refer to her husband so casually.

  She pushed a shock of hair off her son’s forehead. “How are you feeling, kiddo? Are you tired?”

  Cody shrugged and his gaze slid away from hers. He was tired, but he didn’t want to admit it.

  Mitch dived in. “Tell you what, buddy. How about you take a little nap while I talk with your mom? I promise I’ll come back to visit you later.”

  “Promise?”

  Mitch held out his big, tanned hand to Cody. “Pinkie swear.”

  Cody hooked his much smaller finger in Mitch’s and they shook on the promise solemnly.

  Cassidy led the way out of her son’s room, her insides in turmoil. She wanted this man and all he represented far, far away from her son. And yet, Cody hadn’t been that happy or animated in...forever.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” Mitch asked.

  “Uh, I had some cereal a little while ago.”

  “Let me take you out for lunch.”

  “But I can’t leave—”

  “Cody’s taking a nap. I tired him out pretty thoroughly. And you need to take care of yourself. C’mon. I’m buying. I know this great rib joint.” He took her elbow and gently but firmly guided her to the elevator.

  She blinked up at him, shocked. No one had paid any attention to her well-being in longer than she could remember. Sometime in that vague haze of memory before Jimmy had gone away. She hardly knew what had happened before Mitch installed her in the passenger side of his truck and drove away from the hospital.

  Just as panic began to set in at leaving her son behind, he glanced over at her and said reassuringly, “We’ll keep it short. I promise. The nurses have your cell phone number, right? I’m sure they’ll call if he wakes up.”

  “I had to give up my cell phone. I couldn’t afford it.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your survivor’s gratuity and Jimmy’s life insurance from the military?”

  Embarrassed, she answered, “Cody happened. We’ve been trying experimental medicines and treatments to buy him more time until they find a new heart. I had to pay out of my own pocket for the stuff the military health care system doesn’t cover.”

  He nodded in silent understanding.

  The ride to the restaurant was short. With quiet authority, he explained to the waiter that they had a child in the hospital and needed to be served right away. In no more than two minutes, heaping plates of spareribs, home fries, coleslaw and home-style biscuits dripping in butter were set before them.

  Cassidy dug in with hunger she hadn’t realized she had. For the first time in a long time the food tasted good, and she ate with gusto.

  Mitch questioned her over the meal about Cody’s illness, and she described as best she could the rare congenital heart disease that had revealed itself not long after Jimmy died. Mostly, Mitch just listened. She was surprised to discover what a relief it was to talk about it. The lousy timing of Cody’s illness, the fight to get the military to cover his costs, trying to deal with grief and fear and still research Cody’s condition as much as she could.

  She wound down, embarrassed at the way she’d dominated the conversation., “I’m sorry. You must think I never shut up.”

  “It’s all good. Sounds to me like you needed to vent. I’m glad I was here to listen.”

  Maybe this guy wasn’t such a giant jerk, after all. She smiled shyly at him from behind a naked rib bone. “Do I have barbecue sauce all over my face?”

  “Maybe a little.” He reached across the table with a napkin to dab at her cheek. Their gazes met and she was shocked to see warmth there. Male interest. As in he might actually find her attractive. Whoa.

  He threw cash onto the table to cover the check and a generous tip and moved around behind her chair to hold it for her. “C’mon. We’ve got an errand to run before we head back to the hospital.”

  She frowned, confused, but followed him out to his truck. My, he was tall. And his sculpted biceps announced that he was both strong and fit. Must lift weights. From the leanness of his waist, she guessed he ran a fair bit, too. Out of that hated uniform that set her teeth on edge, he really was a handsome man.

  She climbed into his truck, turning over the way he’d looked at her in the restaurant. Surely she had misinterpreted that look. But her womanly intuition said in no uncertain terms that she hadn’t. Huh. What on earth was she supposed to do with that?

  He merged into traffic, but headed away from the hospital. Frowning, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I don’t much like surprises these days,” she muttered.

  “I suppose you don’t,” he answered evenly. “You’ve had some nasty ones recently, haven’t you?”

  She didn’t quite know how to answer that. Thankfully, he continued talking and saved her from having to make a response.

  “In my experience, a run of bad luck is usually followed by a run of good luck. I figure you’ve got some great karma stored up and waiting to break your way.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears,” she replied fervently.

  He smiled over at her, his eyes doing that warm, glowing thing again. The traffic signal changed to green and he turned his attention back to driving. Except he continued talking. “You’re a strong woman. I admire how you’ve held up. But you don’t have to go it alone, you know.”

  She did her best to keep bitterness out of her voice. “That’s what they all say. They pat your hand and tell you how sorry they are. But they don’t actually do anything. I’ve learned over the past year that talk is cheap.”

  His face took on a thoughtful look. “I can see that. People are happy to be there for you in the first few weeks of loss and grief. But when it comes to the long haul, to rebuilding your life and moving on, they don’t want to stick around for the hard work.”

  “Exactly,” she replied, relieved to hear her precise thoughts expressed aloud.

  He turned into a shopping center, and she was alarmed as he parked in front of a cellular service store. How humiliating was it going to be to have to explain that she couldn’t afford this? But then she remembered Rose mentioning that after her rent and debts were paid there was a little extra money left over for other expenses. The credit cards about to be canceled came to mind. And that last batch of medical bills—

  “Out you go,” Mitch said jauntily from beside her as he held her door open..

  Startled, she climbed out of the truck. He rounded the cab to shut her door, and she caught a whiff of male aftershave and guy deodorant. The masculine scents nearly brought her to her knees with longing. She’d missed having a man in her life all this time.... She corrected herself sharply. She missed Jimmy. Love didn’t strike twice in one lifetime, and she’d already had her shot at it.

  Mitch led her into the store and, predictably, took charge. “The lady needs a cell phone with a bunch of minutes preloaded onto it.” He rattled off a model number that she didn’t recognize. But then, she’d never been much of a techie. That had been Jimmy’s department.

  A clerk efficiently pulled out a snazzy cell phone and laid it on the counter in front of her. “How many minutes would you like to load on it, sir?”

  “I think two thousand will get us started.”

  Two thousand minutes? That was going to cost a small fortune! “Mitch, I can’t afford—”

  “My treat. The hospital needs to be able to get in touch with you. It’s crazy for you not to have a phone. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I can’t let you. Lunch is one thing, but this is too much.”

  He looked her square in the eye and the full impact of his personality struck her. Forcefully. This was a man used to getting his way. To being in charge. To taking care of other people. “No,” he said di
stinctly. “It’s not too much.”

  End of discussion. Well, then. Apparently the man was buying her a prepaid cell phone and that was that. Taken aback, particularly by the way her stomach was fluttering excitedly over someone else taking charge for a little while, she said nothing. Mitch programmed his phone number into her contact list and passed it to her as they walked out of the store.

  “Back to the hospital now?” she asked in a bit of desperation. This man was knocking her more off balance with every passing second. She needed to get away from him. Catch her bearings.

  “Sure.”

  * * *

  But it didn’t get any better the next day when he showed up at the hospital again and threw her completely off-kilter by asking, “When’s the last time your car had an oil change?”

  Or the next day when he brought her a breakfast picnic—complete with pecan pancakes he’d made at home—and spread out a red-checked cloth on the floor of the waiting room..

  Or the next day when groceries appeared in bags beside her car with a note to eat more. He’d kicked her out of the hospital that afternoon to go home and take a nap while he played checkers with Cody.

  Or the next day over a late lunch in the hospital cafeteria when he sent her into gales of laughter with crazy war stories, then changed the subject abruptly to ask, “When’s the last time your car had new tires or a brake inspection?”

  “A brake...what?”

  “That’s what I thought. Pass me your car keys. While you go in to check on Cody, I’m getting your car serviced.”

  “I...you...but...” she sputtered as he held out a hand with an imperious look in his eye. Finally she demanded, “Has anyone told you how pushy you are?”

  He grinned. “Usually they go straight to calling me a control freak and a bastard.”

  She laughed helplessly and reached into her purse for her keys. She laid them in his palm and started violently as her fingertips grazed his warm skin. His hand curled into a fist around the keys, and his knuckles brushed against the under side of her wrist. Her pulse leaped and something—urges she hadn’t experienced in two years—leaped to life deep inside her.

  Her gaze snapped to his. Ohmigosh. That was definite heat in his blue eyes. They were the dark sapphire of the ocean at the moment, and yet they were practically on fire.

  “I’ll be back in no time,” he said. “Call me if anything changes. You’ve got my number.”

  If Cody took a turn for the worse, in other words. Sobered by the reminder of her son, she turned and headed back to the ICU. Whether she was hurrying toward her son or away from the man behind her, she wasn’t quite sure. But either way, she was all but running by the time she reached the elevator.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mitch watched thoughtfully as Cassidy fled the scene. What was it about her that was so darned appealing to him? Without question, part of the allure was her fierce loyalty to her son. His own mother had never shown any such mama-bear tendencies. Who’d have guessed a tiny thing like Cassidy had such strength within her?

  He got into her car and was not surprised to see a host of warning lights on her dashboard. He drove the vehicle to his mechanic and gave the guy instructions to give the car a bumper-to-bumper checkup and put all the work on his credit card.

  Since he had Cassidy’s entire key chain, he drove the loaner car the service station had given him to her place to see what work was needed. He let himself into the dim apartment, feeling like a burglar. But how else was he going to help her? She was so independent and so set on not letting anyone or anything associated with the military offer her assistance. The place was small and clean, but its neatness couldn’t disguise the overall shabbiness.

  It took him most of the afternoon to check out the plumbing, wiring, kitchen appliances and air conditioner. Nothing was in terrible shape, but lots of things needed a little tweaking. Maybe the complex’s maintenance man could do the work, but Mitch would rather look after it himself. That way he’d be sure it was done right. He’d start with a trip to the hardware store that night.

  * * *

  Cassidy was shocked when he showed up the next evening to change light bulbs and fix a leaky faucet, but he caught the smile hovering around the corners of her mouth, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He took home the broken chair that was part of her antique dining set so he could work on it in the shop in his garage.

  He returned the chair the following evening, glued, sanded and lightly refinished. He stuck around to get the toilet flushing properly and recruited Cassidy to help him measure her windows for new blinds. The current ones were broken and depressingly institutional looking.

  “Mitch, I can’t ever repay you for all you’re doing,” she announced from her end of the tape measure. “You’ve got to stop this,”

  “Do you like living with broken stuff?” he asked absently.

  “Well, no.”

  He stared at her down the length of the yellow tape. “Well, there you have it, then. Move the tape to the top of the frame. Lots of windows aren’t actually square. We have to measure the top and bottom of the opening.”

  “Mitch, I’m serious. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I’m starting to wonder why you’ve got so much guilt to work out.”

  He released the lock on the tape measure and it slammed back loudly into its case. Cassidy jumped. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

  “You’re feeling guilty about Jimmy’s death, right? That’s why you’re doing all this stuff for me and Cody, isn’t it?”

  Shock slammed into him. Was she right? He turned over the notion in his head and finally replied slowly, “I do feel guilt over Jimmy’s death. But I also know there was nothing I could do to keep that artillery battery from misfiring. But that’s not why I’m trying to help out around here.”

  “Then why?” she demanded.

  He stared hard at her, frustration pounding through him. If there was a reason, it was hiding just out of sight, taunting him. “I don’t know why,” he finally answered. “It feels right.”

  Silent, the fun gone from the moment, he followed her into her bedroom to measure the window there for blinds. He couldn’t help but notice the framed picture of her and Jimmy together on a beach somewhere. She looked so much younger in that photo. But then, she’d had to do a lot of growing up in the past fifteen months.

  What was he doing? Moving in on a woman who already had a family of her own and a lifetime of memories? Cassidy’s plate was full to overflowing already. The last thing she needed was him complicating her life even further.

  Whoa. He wanted to complicate her life? Had changing a few light bulbs and getting some food down her turned into him wanting more? He swore under his breath. When did that happen? No matter how many questions he asked, though, no answers were forthcoming. He packed up his tools and noticed on his way out that the pile of bills had decreased significantly. But the basket that held them still wasn’t empty.

  The next morning he stopped by Rose Parker’s office. “Got a minute?” he asked the social worker.

  “For a hunk-a-burning-love like you, any time.” She waved him to a chair.

  “How is Cassidy doing?” he asked.

  “You tell me. You’re the one who’s been spending so much time with her.”

  “I meant financially. Does she have her most pressing bills taken care of, or does she need more money? She told me there’s an experimental heart medicine the doc wants to try on Cody but it’ll cost a couple thousand dollars.”

  Rose winced. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of my clients’ situations, but I can tell you she doesn’t have that kind of money lying around.”

  “I do,” Mitch replied bluntly. “But I need your help to get it into her hands. Cassidy’s prickly about accepting help.”

  “Child’s had to do without it for so long she’s forgotten how to let other folks lend a hand. Although she mentioned you’ve been fixing her car and sprucing up her place fo
r her.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve fixed a few things here and there. Her apartment really could use a facelift, but I don’t know the first thing about that kind of decorating stuff.” He looked at the social worker speculatively. “You’re a woman, right?”

  Rose laughed heartily. “Last time I checked.”

  “Would you swing by Cassidy’s place with me? Help me figure out a few things to make it look nicer? Her birthday’s in a few days, and I’d like to surprise her.”

  “My, my, Major. We are full of plans, aren’t we?” He frowned, not sure what the innuendo in her voice meant, but then she added, “I’ll be happy to help you.”

  “I’ve got a key to her place, and Cody’s got an appointment this afternoon. We can go then.”

  “It’s a date, handsome.”

  * * *

  It took Rose a couple of hours to inspect the apartment, a day to think and another day to shop. In the meantime, his mandatory vacation blessedly ended and he was able to return to work. But to his surprise, he found his thoughts constantly straying from the job at hand to a cute kid fighting for his life in a hospital and his mother fighting right there beside him.

  * * *

  During his lunch break the next day, Rose met him at Cassidy’s apartment to stage his birthday surprise. He helped Rose put a new slipcover on the sofa, hang the new curtains, spread a fuzzy flokati area rug in the living room and add a few throw pillows. He stood back to examine her efforts.

  With the new Roman shade open and sunlight flooding the space, the living room didn’t look or feel like a depressing dungeon anymore. The place looked light and fresh and welcoming now. Cassidy deserved to come home to something like this.

  “Much better,” he declared.

  “Amazing what a little TLC can do for a soul,” Rose said significantly.

  Was she talking about Cassidy’s soul or his? He couldn’t tell.

  He passed by the bill basket on his way out and was pleased to see it almost empty. He didn’t know what story Rose had used to explain the new round of financial aid, and he didn’t want to know. Whatever worked to get Cassidy to accept his help. He recruited Rose to help him tape a big Happy Birthday sign on the front door. After a quick call to make sure there were no crises at the office, he headed back to the hospital with Rose.