by Warren, Pat
She had trouble grasping all that. “That’s nice,” she muttered, looking down and suddenly realizing she was wearing only a thin gown. She reached for the blanket, awkwardly arranging it over herself. “I’ll be fine by morning. I heal very quickly, always have.”
“I don’t think so. The doctor said three or four days off that foot and I have a tendency to believe his diagnosis over yours.”
“Oh, damn,” Megan complained, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “This is a bad time for this to happen.” Was there ever a good time? She looked at Alex, a worried expression on her face. “Is Ryan really okay?” Poor little kid had been so scared for her.
“He’s fine. Better than fine. He got an A-minus on his spelling test. Missed that word impossible. Let’s see, what else? Billy Somebody-or-other threw up in class and got to go home in a taxi because his mother’s expecting a baby any day and can’t drive. I finished weeding the flower garden after dinner and you can hit me when you feel up to it.” He paused, scratched his chin. “I guess that’s about all the news worth knowing for tonight. Are you hungry?”
“No.” Megan shifted her sore leg. If anything, it felt worse. Three, maybe four more days of this. She felt like screaming in frustration.
“Want the heating pad again? Or maybe an ice bag.”
“I don’t want you waiting on me.” Suddenly, the lateness of the hour registered. “Come to think of it, what are you doing here at this time of night? Where’s Grace? I want Grace to come up here.” She saw he wasn’t moving, decided to stop being so demanding and difficult. “Please.”
“She’ll be up as soon as she gets back from delivering your baked goods.” He held up a hand to stop the protest he knew would be forthcoming. “Her idea, not mine. Says she didn’t have a hot date tonight anyway. She’s a damn fine-looking woman, you know?”
Even in her foggy state, Megan managed to feel a jolt of jealousy. A little one. Then she was disgusted with herself. She felt so rotten she didn’t care if the two of them ran off and eloped. “Ryan can’t go to sleep without his Tasmanian pillow. He gets real upset if he—”
“Already in his bed. We talked about the Taz. I kind of like him, too.”
Megan couldn’t picture it, a grown man, one who looked as appealing as Alex Shephard, admiring the Tasmanian devil.
“You sure you don’t want a bowl of soup or something? That ice bag?” When she just shook her head, Alex decided she needed rest more than anything, so he stood. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll go now. Sleep well.” He started for the door.
A wave of guilt washed over Megan. “Alex?” She’d been difficult, obnoxious and ungrateful and he’d been so nice.
He turned back, his face questioning.
“Thanks. I... I appreciate everything.”
He gave her his slow, sexy smile. “We aim to please.” He’d caught the disease, Alex realized. He was talking in the plural.
Chapter 6
“This is terrible,” Megan complained. “I’ve never been sidelined like this before.”
“You are now, hon, and you’ve got the crankiness to prove it.” With her usual efficient movements, Grace whipped off Megan’s damp bedclothes, piled them by the door and shook out a fresh fitted sheet.
Seated in the rocker vacated by Alex a short time ago, Megan leaned her head back. She felt slightly better after brushing her teeth, but she was still annoyed at her predicament. “I’d love a shower.”
“Tomorrow morning, maybe. You couldn’t stand up long enough on one leg tonight.” Grace eased pale peach pillow slips into place, then fluffed the pillows before putting them back on the bed. “Did you finish your tray?” She’d brought up a chicken salad sandwich and tea after her run into town to the Cornerstone.
“Most of it.” Her appetite seemed to have fled along with her sense of humor.
“Got to keep up your strength.” She flipped the blanket onto the bed, tucked in hospital corners.
Dutifully, because it was hard to refuse someone who was mothering you, Megan drank the rest of her tea. “I think I scared Ryan when I fell. He sat next to me on the bed, his eyes so huge.”
Finished, Grace sat down on the edge of the bed. “He’s afraid you’ll die, like Neal did,” she told her friend. “You might know he’d think that.”
“Yes, I do know. That’s why I told him to give me a big hug, to show him I was on the mend. He felt better hearing the doctor say it was nothing serious.”
“Your hug’s what he needed. Though I must say, Alex has done a masterful job of keeping the boy occupied. Batting practice, catching practice. Homework. Even ate at the kitchen table with us, joking with Ryan whenever his little face clouded up. And he’s driving him to school in that snazzy convertible in the morning.” She shook her head. “What do you make of that man?”
Despite the heat of the tea, Megan shivered. “I wish I knew. He’s a cross between a guardian angel and a very large pain in the butt.” Bracing her hands on the chair, she hopped on one foot to the bed. “I think I’d better lie down. I don’t know why I’m so shaky.”
“Aftershock probably.” Grace moved to assist her, then drew up the covers. “Too soon for more aspirin, but I’ll be in with it later. Or maybe Alex will be. He’ll probably arm wrestle me for the privilege. He has this thing for you.”
Megan almost laughed. “Undoubtedly because I’m so gorgeous with this stringy hair and scowling face.”
“He asked me some questions about you earlier.” The answers she’d given had weighed heavily on Grace’s mind. “I told him you’d filed for divorce from Neal.”
Megan snuggled into her pillow. “That wasn’t exactly a secret. What kind of questions?”
“He wanted to know if you’re in financial trouble with this place.”
Megan frowned. “Why would he want to know that?”
“Beats me.” Grace fussed with the covers unnecessarily. “Says he likes to help people.”
“You know, it’s hard for me to believe that this man who, by his own admission, was never happier than when he was climbing mountains or scuba diving in some remote ocean or on safari in a faraway jungle is now happiest in this small town simply helping people out. What’s wrong with this picture?”
“Maybe that was then and this is now. He said he had a really serious illness last year. Almost died. It changed him.”
Megan sighed. “Do you suppose he had an epiphany? Because we both know how reliable the word of a man who says he’s changed is, don’t we?”
Grace, too, remembered Neal and his empty promises, to say nothing of her two exes. “Yes, we sure do.” She gathered up the crumpled linen. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you, Grace. You’re a treasure. I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll be downstairs to get breakfast and get Ryan off to school.”
“We’ll see. Meantime, I’m leaving my bedroom door open. If you need anything, just yell.”
“Mmm.” Annoyed with the world in general, Megan lay back. Maybe tomorrow by some miracle she’d be greatly improved. And maybe pigs could fly!
“I hate being confined.” Sitting up in bed, Megan chewed disconsolately on a piece of toast. She’d thought about hobbling downstairs on one foot or taking the steps on her bottom, but sitting around watching Grace do the work she should be doing would only make her feel worse.
“So you’ve said,” Alex answered.
“I thought I’d be able to get around better by this morning.” She’d offered to sit at the kitchen table and peel vegetables, but Grace had nixed the idea, saying she didn’t need Megan in her way. Later, she’d brought up a basket of mending and smilingly mentioned that Megan at last had time for that dreaded chore. Megan had glared at her, but she’d taken the basket.
“Sprains and pulled muscles have to run their course.” He shook two aspirin out of the bottle on her nightstand and handed her the glass of juice he’d brought up.
Megan took them, not that they hel
ped much, but maybe she’d feel even worse without something for the pain. But aspirin didn’t take away her major concerns. “How’re my guests doing?”
“All taken care of. Grace and I are handling things. I made western omelettes this morning. They went over big. Would you like me to make you one?”
“Toast is fine, thanks. Why didn’t Ryan come in to see me this morning?” Most of all, she missed her little boy.
“He told me he stuck his head in earlier, but you were sleeping and Grace had warned him not to wake you.”
The problem was, Megan thought, that she tossed and turned and moaned with pain half the night, then had fallen deeply asleep toward morning.
“Anyhow, don’t worry about Ryan. He got off to school on time.” He didn’t mention that he’d driven the boy or that when they were passing the bus stop, Ryan’s friend, Bobby, all but begged for a ride. So Alex had belted both boys into the passenger seat and continued on.
She found a smile. “Did he enjoy the ride in your convertible?”
“Apparently, the walls have ears.” Aware of her frustration over not being in the mainstream, recognizing it from the long days of his own confinement, he sat down in the rocker. “I know just how you feel. I hate being laid up, too.”
He looked so tanned and healthy. “You don’t look as if you ever are.”
“I’ve had my share of down days.” Quite a few, actually.
Megan remembered he’d referred to recovering from an illness in the garden that first night and Grace had said he’d told her it had been a serious one. “What sort of illness did you have?” It seemed like a terribly personal thing to ask, but then, what could be more intimate than a man carrying her up to her sickbed?
“Major surgery,” he answered, feeling like a coward at the vague explanation. “I’m fully recovered now.” This wasn’t the time to go into his transplant story, Alex felt. “The worst thing about being laid up is being dependent on others for so many things.”
“Amen to that. I don’t like to be told I can’t do something.”
Relieved that she had no more questions about him, he laughed. “I’ve noticed that about you.”
She had to smile at that. “I’m a lousy patient, I know. I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time.” This might be the perfect moment to say a few things she’d been avoiding. “Listen, I don’t want you to feel obligated to visit me like this. I mean, just because you kissed me doesn’t change anything between us, really.”
“You kissed me back. Heartily. Lengthily.”
Megan wished she could stop the blush she felt warming her cheeks. “All right, so it was a two-way street. The whole thing took me by surprise. Suddenly, we were there, up close and...and it had been a long time since...” She cleared her throat. “At any rate, I shouldn’t have behaved like that. I’m not usually so...so...”
“Responsive? Passionate? Abandoned?”
Good Lord why had she begun this conversation? “No, I’m not any of those things.” If only he could check with Neal, he’d know that her husband had had to look elsewhere for passion. “I was acting out of character, caught off guard.”
Alex rose, moved to sit on the edge of her bed. “Don’t bother trying to convince me you’re not all of those things. Because I know. I’ve kissed you and I know.”
He spoke with such maddening assurance that she wanted to smack him. Perhaps if she tried another explanation. “Look, I’ve been widowed almost a year and I’ve had a few men try to...to...”
“Get you into bed?”
“Uh, yes. But that’s all they want. Not me, not my son, not a future, just the bedroom scene. They try to get to me through Ryan. They press and push. I’m not interested in those games. I’m not interested, period. Not in you or in any man. I want you to know that.”
“Uh-huh.” He took her hand, found it warm and dry and slightly shaky. “I want to take you to bed, Megan, to test that theory, and for other reasons. But I won’t press. I never press.”
Why would he when women were undoubtedly lining up to warm his bed? Megan thought.
“I won’t even ask you, not until you let me know you want me as much as I want you.”
Determined blue eyes met sea green. “That day will never come,” she said quietly.
Getting to his feet, Alex leaned back down and planted a brief kiss on her forehead before removing her tray. “Never say never, Megan. I’ve got to change clothes for an appointment in town. Grace said to tell you to take a nap and she’ll be up around lunchtime.” He walked out, leaving her with a few things to think over.
Alex stood in front of the full-length mirror in his room and examined his image. Blue shirt, gray slacks, loafers, no tie. Businesslike, but not stuffy. Residents of small towns in California, he’d discovered some time ago, seemed suspicious of people dressed too formally. Even lawyers and bankers. Still, a jacket would be in order, he decided as he took his navy sport coat out of the closet.
Whistling, he left his room. At the top of the stairs, he paused, listening. He could hear the shower running in Megan’s room. Yet he knew that Grace had left after breakfast to do the marketing. Had Megan crawled out of bed and hobbled into the shower, risking further injury to that ankle? Had he ever run across a more stubborn woman? Alex asked himself as he took the stairs up to the third floor, two at a time.
It had seemed like a good idea a few minutes ago, Megan reflected as she leaned against the tiled wall of her shower. She’d hopped on one foot into the bathroom, turned on the jets, stripped off her gown and stepped under the spray. But she’d barely soaped herself before she began to feel light-headed. Probably because she hadn’t had much solid food in two days, she decided as she rinsed off.
Just a few minutes more, she thought, standing with most of her weight on her left leg and straightening to allow the hot water to wet her hair. One-handed, she dribbled on shampoo, then rubbed it in. The steam was clouding her vision, making her dizzy. Bracing an elbow against the wall, she stuck her head under, rinsing out the shampoo. That’s when her good leg started to shake.
Hurriedly, she grabbed the shower door handle and leaned into the door with her eyes closed for several moments. Grace was going to be upset that she hadn’t waited. But the poor soul already had so much to do that it seemed unfair to ask her to nursemaid a grown woman. At last, she took a chance and gingerly hopped out. It was too far to reach over to shut off the water, so she let it be.
Holding on to the wall, Megan made it across the small room and shakily wrapped herself in a thick towel before sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet. Her trembling leg was undoubtedly a nerve reaction. She closed her eyes and tried to take slow, calming breaths. But a sound from the other side of the door drew her attention.
“Megan, are you all right?” The voice was muffled over the noise of the shower, but she knew it belonged to Alex.
“Please,” she answered, “get Grace for me.” A whisper was all that came out, upsetting her further.
“Megan? Can you hear me?” Alex’s imagination had her in a crumpled heap on the floor in a dead faint. “I’m coming in,” he shouted.
“No!” Megan squeaked. But it was too late. The door flew open.
He thought she resembled a drowned waif with her wet hair hanging down and a panicky look on her pale face as she clutched an oversize towel around her slim shoulders. He flipped the switch for the overhead fan, then reached in and shut off the shower. Looking down at her as the steam slowly swirled out of the room, he shook his head. “You just couldn’t wait, could you?”
Megan drew in a deep breath. “Never mind the lecture. Please ask Grace to come up.”
“Sorry, she’s in town running errands. You’re stuck with me.” He saw her shoulders droop and hoped she wouldn’t cry. Grabbing a second towel, he began drying her hair. “How is it you and I always wind up together in steamy bathrooms?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. But she didn’t smile. Finished, he stepped back and noticed the gown she
’d had on earlier lying on her clothes hamper. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.”
Humiliating was what this was, Megan thought now that she was fairly certain she wouldn’t fall or faint. “Don’t bother. Just hand in my robe, the green one from my closet. I’ll get dressed later.” No way did she want him going through her drawers, handling her underclothes.
Cocking his head, Alex thought he knew what she was thinking. “Don’t be shy, Megan. I’ve seen women’s underthings before. You’ll feel better getting dressed.” With that, he left the bathroom, not noticing Megan’s scowl aimed at his back.
Alex opened the first drawer of her dresser. Soft, silky panties on one side, so small he wondered why she bothered wearing them at all. He chose a pale peach pair, then let his hand wander to the bras. How could women stand wearing these things? he wondered, choosing a matching peach bra.
Shorts would probably be better than slacks, he decided, since she’d probably put on the air cast that went up past her ankle. In the third drawer, he found a white pair on top and grabbed them. No tops in any of the other drawers, so he walked over to the closet.
Blouses, T-shirts, slacks, skirts, a few dresses. He scanned the lot and finally chose a loose pink T-shirt because it had an imprint on it that made him smile. When Cranky, Feed Chocolate. Maybe he should get her a box today.
Walking back into the bathroom, he saw that she held a comb she’d used on her wet hair and was sitting there glowering at him. Ignoring her bad mood, he smiled. “Here you go. Need some help?”
With no small effort, Megan erased her frown. He was, she supposed, just trying to be helpful. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”
He was hesitant, the mental picture of her lying on a cold bathroom floor still vivid. “What if you fall again?”
“I won’t.” She stared at him, trying to look in control, not an easy thing to do in a steamy bathroom wearing only a towel.
“You can keep your back turned. I’ll just stand here in case you need me.”
