Light This Candle (Harlequin More Than Words)

by Cindy Dees

  “How’s Cassidy’s bill situation after that last check I wrote?” he asked.

  “Better than it’s been in a long time, I gather. Oh, and I talked to Dr. Mistler. He’s willing to tell Cassidy that a grant covered the cost of the new medicine so she won’t find out you paid for it.”

  “Thanks, Rose.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t tell her about how you’re paying her bills and financing her son’s medication? If she finds out on her own, she’s going to be spitting mad at you.”

  “Then I guess she can’t find out, can she?” he replied lightly.

  He might not be able to bring her husband back, but he could darned well make her life a little less stressful. She was too independent to let him help openly. He had no choice but to go behind her back. But Rose’s warning stuck in his craw anyway. Was he making a mistake?

  Mitch escorted Rose inside impatiently. Huh. Who’d have guessed he’d be chomping at the bit to see a five-year-old like this? But the kid was a ton of fun to hang out with, and Mitch had gotten used to his daily visits with the little squirt.

  He stepped into an unnatural hush and his heart lurched. A cluster of scrubs surrounded Cody’s bed, although the medical staff didn’t appear to be working frantically over the boy as they had the night he’d had his heart attack.

  “What’s up?” he asked the lone nurse at the station.

  “Cody’s having a bad day.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Breathing distress. Bad oxygen saturation numbers. Heart arrhythmia.”

  His chest clenched in worry. “Can’t anything be done to move him up on the transplant waiting list?”

  “He’s already at the very top of it. Problem is he needs a child-sized heart. And little kids don’t die every day. Plus, lots of parents haven’t gotten around to designating their young children as organ donors. Hearts for kids just aren’t that common.”

  A sense of helplessness coursed through Mitch, foreign and toxic. He was used to fixing a problem. His life was all about taking action. Controlling combat situations. Creating environments where victory was inevitable. But Cody was different. Mitch was powerless to help the boy, and he hated it.

  No wonder Cassidy could be so prickly. She must be going crazy, feeling so helpless. Particularly if she was anything like him—and his impression was that they had a great deal in common.

  “Can I go into Cody’s room? I’d like to say hi to Cassidy.”

  The nurse smiled warmly at him. “I imagine she could use a friend right about now. I’ll need you to put on a mask and gown.”

  He suited up like a surgeon and headed into Cody’s room. He was surprised to see the little boy awake and alert. For some reason he’d expected Cody to be sleeping or unconscious.

  “Mitch!” Cody gasped in a horrible wheeze.

  Cassidy looked up at him, and he couldn’t see her expression behind her surgical mask, but he thought that was gratitude in her eyes.

  He moved to Cody’s side. “Hey, buddy. How do like my getup? Do I look like a superhero?”

  “Look like...Dr. Mistler,” Cody gasped.

  “Don’t let me try surgery on you, okay? I’m a lot better at checkers than cardiology.”

  Cody smiled weakly at him and inhaled hard through the oxygen tube under his nose. Mitch stepped back from the bed and joined Cassidy on the far side of the room. “How are you holding up?” he murmured to her.

  “I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t fine, but he also understood that she wasn’t going to admit to any weakness when Cody might hear her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “We need to distract Cody from his breathing problems. He gets panicked and tenses up, and that only makes things worse.”

  “I might be able to do something about that.” Mitch moved back over to Cody’s side. “Hey, Cody. I was thinking about how good you are at checkers, and I think you might be old enough to learn how to play backgammon. Your dad was a killer backgammon player, too. He used to bet with the guys in our unit, and he took all their money from them.”

  “Really?” Cody wheezed.

  “Yup. Lemme see if there’s a backgammon board in the hospital and I’ll show you how it goes.”

  Without him having to say a word, one of the nurses nodded at him and left the room quickly. In less than five minutes a backgammon board was placed in his hand.

  “Okay, Cody. You lie back for now. I’m going to hold the board up so you can see it.” Mitch showed Cody the board and the colored plastic game pieces. He explained how the disks were placed and then moved around the board’s painted arrows. As he did so, the beeps around the bed gradually steadied.

  Cody announced in a stronger voice, “I want to play.”

  Mitch glanced at the medical staff for permission, and they carefully propped Cody up and positioned the board across his lap. Mitch said, “Your mom’s getting left out. How about we have her roll the dice for you and move the pieces you tell her to?”

  “‘Kay.”

  And the game was on. As Mitch expected, Cody caught on fast. There were many nuances to the game that a five-year-old couldn’t grasp, but Cody’s eyes lit with pleasure as Cassidy moved his pieces moved around the board.

  “Tell me a story about my daddy,” he said at last, pushing the backgammon board aside.

  Mitch complied, although he avoided any tales that might excite Cody. He described everyday life in a military unit and included a few anecdotes about Jimmy. In a little while, Cody’s eyelids grew heavy.

  Mitch said, “I’m getting pretty tired, little buddy. Would you mind if I went out in the waiting room and took a nap?”

  Cody retorted sleepily, “You want me to take a nap.”

  “Caught me.” Mitch chuckled. “Sweet dreams.”

  “‘Kay.” Cody’s eyes closed, and the beeps slowed even more.

  A nurse came to sit on the high stool beside Cody’s bed while the others in the room filed out silently As the door clicked shut, another nurse said, “Nicely done, sir.”

  Cassidy dropped her mask and Mitch did the same. He was startled to see tears in her eyes. He was even more surprised when she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  She was all sweetness and soft warmth as he held her close. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest,

  “My pleasure.”

  She stepped back from him and looked away awkwardly. His arms felt cold and empty and he had to restrain the urge to fold her in his embrace again.

  “I have some good news and some bad news for you,” he said to fill the gap between them.

  She looked up in quick alarm.

  “The good news is Rose and I stopped by your apartment earlier and left you a birthday present. The bad news is I don’t know when you’re going to be able to go see it.”

  She frowned as if she was having trouble processing someone doing such a thing for her. He supposed it might be an adjustment for her after being on her own for well over a year. Particularly when the person helping her represented the military—the focus of her anger and resentment since her husband’s death.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she finally mumbled.

  “No need to say anything at all,” he replied cheerfully. He turned to the nearest nurse. “Is Cody down for the night?”

  “Most likely. He had an exhausting afternoon.”

  Mitch dived in. “Tell you what. I’ll spend the night here with Mr. Cody. You go home and get a decent rest in your own bed.”

  “Are you always this bossy?” she retorted.

  “Always.”

  It took a little more arguing and persuasion, but eventually she capitulated and headed for the elevator. He grinned at her back and then walked into Cody’s room, feeling well pleased with the day’s work.

  * * *

  Cassidy smiled at the silly, handmade poster taped to her front door. Mitch might be great with a wrench, but not so much with glitter glue. St
ill, the card was a sweet gesture. She unlocked her front door wearily. How had she ever managed before he blasted into her and Cody’s lives? She was exhausted and emotionally wrung out by today’s crisis, and a hot bath and full night’s sleep sounded like heaven on earth.

  She flipped on the light switch. What the—

  The couch was different. And where had that rug come from? And the room was brighter than she’d ever seen it. A new floor lamp? The living room was colorful and cheerful...how had Mitch known this would be exactly her taste? Rose must have helped him pick this stuff out. God bless her.

  The kindness and thoughtfulness of this birthday present overwhelmed her. Tears filled her eyes and she stumbled to the kitchen...and saw the cupcake on the counter. It was lopsided and the frosting looked like a piping experiment gone terribly wrong.

  But there was a candle stuck in it and a box of matches on top of a note signed by Mitch that read, “Light this candle and make a wish. Remember the light in our lives never truly goes out as long as we have hope.”

  Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she lit the candle. She hummed “Happy Birthday” to herself and then blew it out. The flame sparked and momentarily went out, but then it flared again. She laughed and blew it out again. And it flickered back to life. It was one of those trick candles...but it made Mitch’s point. She’d been dangerously close to giving up before he walked into the ICU a few weeks ago.

  How had he come to know her so well in such a short time? He’d known that she wouldn’t listen to logical arguments, but she would get the message from a silly birthday candle on a hideously ugly cupcake made beautiful by the caring and concern that went into baking it. Was she ready to let Mitch this far inside her life? Into her heart?

  She moved into her bedroom and stopped to look at the picture of her and Jimmy. Their honeymoon seemed like a lifetime ago. She would never forget him, never stop loving him. And she would always be grateful for the gift of Cody. But her life had moved so far beyond that innocent time of young love that it was becoming a distant memory. She’d fought against the march of time, against letting go of Jimmy. But maybe it was inevitable.

  She kicked off her shoes and moved back out into the living room. Her bare toes luxuriated in the deep fur of the new rug. Cody was going to love flopping in front of the television when—if—he came home.

  Her stomach growled. Another new development since Mitch McConnell had exploded into her life—she paid attention to eating. She headed for the kitchen and grabbed a bag of salad mix from the refrigerator.

  She and Jimmy had dated all the way through high school and married as soon as she’d turned eighteen. She’d moved from her parents’ care to his care. He’d enlisted in the military and they’d immediately moved into base housing. He’d taken care of everything. Of her. The house. The car. The bills. Any crises that came along. But all of that had changed when he died. She’d had to grow up in the space of a doorbell ringing and, a few months later, a doctor’s single sentence, “Mrs. Frazier, your son has a problem.”

  She’d proven to herself, to everyone really, that she could take care of herself and Cody. No one had believed she could do it. But she had. Sure, things had slipped between the cracks. How could they not with Cody in and out of the hospital with steadily deteriorating health?

  But then the money had run out. That was when things began to fall apart. And then Cody had his first heart attack. She’d quit her job as an office manager to be with him full-time, and the bills began to get away from her. But what choice did she have? Her baby was dying. She had to stay at his side. To spend every single precious minute with him, never knowing what day, what hour, what minute might be his last.

  She pulled in a sobbing breath as she picked up the cupcake and removed the paper liner. And then Mitch McConnell had come along and swept aside the mountain of nightmares piled on top of her as if they were nothing. She almost resented how easily he’d made at least some of her problems go away. She banged a fist on the counter in frustration. She wasn’t ready for him to come into her life! But if not now, when? If she didn’t let go of the past sometime, how could the future ever find her?

  A tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Mitch whispered, Yes, it’s time.

  An image of Jimmy’s face the night Cody was born flashed into her head. Furious at herself for her momentary disloyalty to him, she picked up her cell phone—Mitch’s cell phone, the one he’d bought and paid for—and jabbed in his number.

  “Hey, Cassidy,” he said brightly.

  She gritted her teeth at his cheerful voice. “I need you to leave me and my son alone. Get out of our lives.”

  “Why?” He sounded confused.

  “Because I can’t afford to need anyone. I can’t forget. Don’t you understand?”

  “No. I don’t. Please explain it to me.”

  It was simple: if she forgot Jimmy, who would remember him? “I have no room in my life for anyone else. I have to get through this on my own. I have to be strong for Cody.”

  “You can be strong and still let people help you. In fact, I’ve always thought it takes mores strength to let people lend a hand than not.”

  The argument was reasonable...and made her completely crazy. Her voice rose. “That’s just your guilt talking. You need to help me to deal with your own conscience.”

  “I’m not having this conversation over the phone. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “No! Didn’t you hear me? I don’t want you in my life.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “Your mouth is saying the words, but your eyes keep saying something entirely different.”

  “My—what?”

  “I’m on my way.” The connection went dead in her ear.

  She stared at the now silent phone in shock. He’d done it again! Just taken over! Fine. He could come over here, and she’d tell him once and for all to get out of her life. She raced for the bathroom to brush her hair and throw on a little makeup.

  It dawned on her as she took out her mascara exactly what she was doing. She was primping for Mitch. Damn him! She stuffed the brush back into the tube and stomped to her closet to put on her rattiest sweatpants and baggiest sweatshirt. She just had time to yank her hair up into a ponytail before a firm knock sounded on her front door.

  Stormily she let him in. Of course, he looked totally put together, his khaki slacks sharply creased, his casual shirt a perfect fit, his short hair neat. She wasted no time getting to the point. “Mitch, you’ve got to stop this.”

  “And what would this be, exactly?”

  “Everything! I appreciate what you’ve done, but I’m not some charity case.”

  He frowned. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”

  “Then once and for all, please tell me why you’re doing all this stuff for me and Cody.”

  He shoved a hand through his short hair, the only outward sign of frustration. His voice was maddeningly calm when he answered. “I feel like hell that Jimmy died. I truly wish I could’ve brought him home to you safe and sound. But that’s not how the cards were dealt. All I can do is step in and make sure you and Cody are taken care of.”

  Her stomach fell like a brick. So. He was acting purely out of guilt. She was shocked to discover that a tiny part of her had hoped that he cared for her at least a little.

  “Consider your guilt officially assuaged. You’ve already done a great deal more than you had to or should have.”

  He paced across the room to stare out her window. “Why are you so determined not to let anyone help you?” He spun suddenly. “Or is it more than that? Are you trying to cling to the past and not move on with your own life?”

  She stared at him, stunned. How did he know?

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” he accused. “Well, I gotta say, living in the past is a pretty dumb way to go through life.”

  Her jaw sagged. “You’re calling me dumb?”

  In two long strides he was looming
over her. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess I am.”

  “How dare you—” she started.

  But then he grabbed both her arms and his mouth swooped down on hers, effectively silencing her. Rage erupted in her gut, but as soon as it exploded, it changed. Expanded. Blossomed into something else entirely.

  Her arms snaked up around his neck. With a groan in the back of his throat, he pulled her to him, scooping her off the ground and crushing her against him as if he needed her more than he needed to breathe.

  This was insane. And yet part of her didn’t care in the least. She wanted the escape he offered. To feel attractive and cherished. To feel alive.

  He swept her up and out of herself, carrying her away to a place of pure sensation. He completely filled her senses, overwhelmed her until all she could think about, all she could feel, was Mitch. Only Mitch—

  She shoved him away and staggered back, wiping her mouth frantically with her hand. Wiping away the feel of him, the mind-numbing pleasure...but it didn’t work. She still tasted him. And worse, she still craved him.

  “Are you all right?” Mitch asked in concern.

  She shook her head, too stunned at the raging need pounding through her to speak.

  He speared his fingers through his short hair again. “I’m so sorry, Cassidy. It’s not like your life is exactly simple. And we’ve just complicated it even more.”

  Had they? She would eventually forget what being kissed felt like. She could pretend it had never happened and things would go back to the way they’d been before. Right?

  “Look, Cassidy. I realize we should have talked about this before I hauled off and kissed you like that. And we should have spent more time getting to know each other. Built a solid foundation before we took our relationship further.”

  She was grateful her back was turned and he couldn’t see the tears brimming in her eyes. Her heart ached unbearably. He was right. Kissing him had been foolish in the extreme. A huge mistake.