“Okay,” Connor said, sounding sleepy.
After she managed to get him into a comfortable, prone position, she bent down to kiss him, a light little caress and he grinned, faint but definite, as he said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Cat.”
The sweet compliment kicked the tear factory into production but she just said, voice schooled to be mild, “You’d manage, Connor.”
He’d have to anyway once he healed and headed back to Kansas City, Kansas.
“I doubt it,” he murmured, “Are you staying all night with me, Kitty Cat?”
That marked the first time he’d used her full nickname, the one he gave her long ago and she couldn’t say no, not after that. “Yes, I’ll be here, Connor.”
“Good,” he mumbled and then after a long silence, almost asleep, he added in a voice so low she could hardly hear it, “I love you.”
Tears scorched her heart, burned her throat but Catherine whispered back, “I love you, too Connor.”
Somehow despite all the emotional turmoil within she slept, curled like a pretzel into the chair, never waking until the early morning hours when Connor called her name with sharp need. Catherine surfaced through layers of sleep fog to emerge, asking “What’s wrong, honey?”
Even the night dimness of the hospital room, she saw his grin before he answered “I have to piss so will you help me to the bathroom?”
“Sure, Connor.”
Despite his urgency, urinating didn’t come easy but after ten minutes or more of frustration, Connor managed a stream to half-fill the plastic ‘hat’ the staff put in place over the commode to collect his urine. When he finished, he wobbled a little but his grin could’ve lit Las Vegas.
“Damn, that felt good,” he remarked as she steered him back to bed.
Catherine laughed with happiness, “I bet it did. That’s one more step toward checking out of here and coming home with me.”
He stared up at her, eyes bright as he said, “I’m looking forward to that, Cat.”
Connor meant it and she nodded, “So am I.”
Being able to pee again improved his mood and the next day he did his rounds of physical therapy with new resolve. Catherine, at Connor’s request, trailed along behind as he walked the halls with the PT nurse and admired his stubborn endurance. He insisted he go farther than requested and although he returned to the room worn out each time, he came back happy. Although the doctor predicted Connor might still be using a crutch or cane when he left the hospital, he managed to walk a slow, steady pace without one.
“So am I doing pretty well?” Connor asked Catherine after his afternoon PT session.
He sat in the room’s original chair, now placed so he could look outside and she faced him in a straight chair she’d borrowed from the waiting room. Catherine smiled at him and said, “You’re doing wonderful, Connor. No one expected you to manage without at least a cane. How’s your leg, though?”
“Sore,” he admitted, “But it’s not too bad. I’m starving, though.”
“Is that a hint?”
His grin went full wattage, “Yeah, it is.”
Catherine snorted with humor. “Maybe you should wait and see what they’re serving for supper.”
Connor shook his head, “I don’t think so. I’d like fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, something like that. Is there someplace you can get me some?”
She grinned, “I can cook you some when you get to my place but yeah, for now I think I can find what you want. Do you want it now? It’s just after four.”
“Is that all?” he asked with a sigh, “I can wait, I guess.”
Connor shivered and she reached over to touch him, “Cold?”
He nodded, “It’s cooler over here by the window but I don’t mind. I like looking out. Is it snowing again?”
She hadn’t noticed but it was. Delicate little flakes floated like sifted powdered sugar from the sky to coat every surface with fine white dust. “Looks like it. Maybe I should go get your chicken now. I want to run home long enough to change clothes, too.”
“Don’t you like driving on snow?” Connor asked
Catherine shrugged her shoulders. “I get a little nervous, now more than ever.”
“Why?” he asked, sounding curious.
She stood up, put one hand on his shoulder and said, “Well, this guy I know from a long time ago got hurt when he hit a slick spot on his motorcycle so I’m more anxious than before.”
Connor grinned and said, “He’s lucky to be alive.”
“You think so?” Catherine returned with a smile, “I do.”
She moved closer so that she could bend just enough to kiss his mouth, his lips attaching to hers with poignant need. Catherine started the kiss but Connor took it over and made it his, his mouth searching hers with such skill that goose bumps rose on her arms and a sweet little shiver traveled down her spine. As he kissed her, he reached up to caress her breasts, the first time he’d done that since their reunion and she loved it. His touch had more finesse now but his fingers felt right. When he lowered one hand to her crotch, she pulled back. Catherine wanted it but not here and not now.
“What’s the matter, Kitty Cat?” Connor breathed in her ear. “Don’t you like the way I pet you?”
She put her head against his shoulder for a brief moment. “I love it, too much to let you do it here. If Annette comes in, working or not, my job is toast.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, disappointment clouding his voice. “I’d forgotten about that.”
Catherine stroked his shoulder length hair back from his face as she said, “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll have time and privacy soon enough. Now I really am going to go change and pickup your chicken before it gets too slick. Is there anything else that you want, Connor?”
He shook his head, “I can’t think of anything. Just be careful, okay?”
Connor’s concern warmed her like a cup of hot chocolate and she nodded, “Sure, I will and I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”
“I doubt that,” he said as she pulled on her coat and grabbed her purse. “Hey, Cat?”
She stopped with her hand on the door to ask, “What?”
“I really love you, baby.”
That cold rim of ice around her heart, the one formed when she realized he’d go back to Kansas City and his club too soon melted at the words and without turning around, she replied,
“Oh, Connor, I love you too.”
Before she might get teary or tempted into another kiss, Catherine walked out into the corridor and to the elevator. When the doors opened, Marti stepped out. Another of the nurses that worked the floor, Marti had been friend as well as co-worker. They’d gone out together a few times, to see a movie or share a meal but since Connor’s arrival, Catherine hadn’t had a chance to talk to Marti at all.
“OMG!” Marti said, a wide grin spreading over her face like melted butter on a waffle. “It’s about time I ran into you! What is going on with you, girlfriend? You should hear the gossip going around. They’re calling you and your sexy patient in there ‘Romeo and Juliet’.”
“They are?” Catherine said, piqued at the idea. “That’s silly. Connor and I dated in high school and he ended up here after taking a bad spill on his motorcycle. I’m just helping out an old friend, that’s all.”
Catherine stepped onto the elevator and Marti, although she’d just come up, got on it too.
“That’s not the way I heard it,” the other nurse said with a giggle, “I hear you got caught kissing him while you were on duty and that you’re here with him day and night. Come on, Catherine, you can tell me the truth.”
If she did, the story would spread through the facility like an infectious disease but after a sigh, she launched into an abbreviated version.
“He’s that special guy from my past,” she told Marti with a sigh, “I still love him and he says he loves me. I’ve got to take a chance and see what happens. When he gets out of the hospital in a day o
r two, he’s staying with me until he’s well enough to go home. I don’t know what happens then but for now, I’m there for the ride.”
“You’re serious,” Marti said with wide-eyes. “I don’t believe it. Serious, workaholic Catherine has fallen hard for a guy from her wicked past. It’s not some fling like some of the nurses are saying. This is the real deal.”
“Maybe,” Catherine admitted. “I thought it was, once. We’ll see.”
The elevator opened and she stepped out. Marti shook her head with a smile.
“I’ve got to go back to work but good luck. Call me!”
Catherine nodded as the elevator doors shut and hurried outside into the snow. A cold blast of wind whipped across her face as she climbed into her car. Snow still fell, heavier now as she drove first home to change into fresh clothing then drove out to pickup Connor’s chicken dinner. By the time she returned, the skiff of snow on the ground accumulated into several inches and it was still snowing. She stomped the snow from her boots out of habit as she entered the hospital and went upstairs.
Inside his room, Connor moved the bed tray table so that it sat between the two chairs. Although it was a tight fit in the small space, she maneuvered over to slide into the vacant seat and put the food on the table. He looked at her, expecting a kiss and so she bent across the table with care to give him one good smack with her lips.
“God, you’re cold,” he said, “Is it still snowing?”
“Yeah,” Catherine answered with a slight shiver, “It’s really coming down now. Did you shut the drape or did staff?”
“I did,” Connor told her, “It got dark and I could feel the cold air seeping around the window. Thanks for getting the chicken. I already sent dinner back.”
“What was it?”
“Some kind of pasta something,” he said, “Let’s eat.”
They shared the crisp, fried chicken and the rest of the meal, talking about small things but the unspoken things between them loomed large. Catherine cleared away the trash after they finished eating and without asking she moved the furniture so that she could stand behind his chair.
“Do you want me to comb your hair or give you a shoulder rub?” she asked.
Sated with food, eyes shining with contentment Connor shrugged, “Either one’s fine, Cat.”
Catherine rubbed his shoulders until her hands ached, feeling his taut muscles relax and when he returned to bed, she sat there beside him long after he drifted into sleep, mind and heart full.
Once he slept, she rose restless and stared out into the snowy night, wondering just where this love might lead them and how it might work out – or how it might not.
Chapter Eight
By Friday morning Connor told her he wanted nothing more than to leave the hospital and to that end, she helped him dress in another new pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. When she asked, he told her he guessed any garments he still had must be with his bike, wherever it ended up so Catherine promised they’d retrieve them soon. Long before the hot meal carts arrived with breakfast he sat in the chair, wearing shoes and socks, clean-shaven with Catherine’s help.
“What time is the doctor showing up to let me go?” Connor asked as he sipped the coffee she’d brought from downstairs.
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, blowing on the liquid to cool it. “He won’t get in any hurry and neither will the staff. You might be out of here by noon if you’re lucky.”
“Screw that,” Connor said, with a grin that tempered the harsh words, “I’m ready to go now.” She laughed but as she predicted, it was near noon before they left the room behind. Catherine carried his scant possessions in a bag the hospital provided and he’d been given the few things on him at arrival including wallet and keys. He also wore his black leather jacket, scuffed a little from the pavement but still intact. Connor protested riding in a wheelchair to the door but Catherine shushed him and reminded him it was policy. While he rode down, she brought her car around to the main entrance so she could pick him up. With her help, Connor folded his tall frame into the front seat of her small car and after insisting he use the seat belt, they took off for her little house on the north side of town.
“So where do you live?” he asked en route, looking from side to side at the town he’d never seen until now. He frowned at a house that could be reached up a long flight of narrow, steep steps and added, “I hope there aren’t stairs.”
“Two steps to the porch,” Catherine said, “I live on the north side of town. It’s an old neighborhood, not so different than our old one although I think most of the houses are even smaller. My house is old and it’s not big but I like it.”
As she parked in front, she visualized how the place would seem to Connor’s eyes. The small, neat frame house hugged the sidewalk and the two steps up led to the tiny porch. Because she lived here Catherine knew that the window overlooking the porch was the living room and the one beside the steps with a slight bay window look was the front bedroom, the one she used for a home office. Framed with snow, it resembled a cute cottage on a postcard more than just an old house built before 1900.
“We’re here, home sweet home,” she said. “What do you think?”
“It’s a welcome change from that hospital,” Connor said, “Come help me out.”
Catherine came around to the passenger side and by then he’d opened the door. She maneuvered him out as he favored his injured leg a little and offered her arm as support as he mounted the short stairs with effort. He leaned against the porch post as she unlocked the door and led him into her playhouse sized living room. One step to the right and they were in it. The square room featured a television, old and on a stand just ahead. Across from it, a long couch filled that wall and before the front window, her recliner rested beside a floor lamp. A magazine rack, an occasional table with a cordless phone base, and a small bookshelf completed the furnishings.
That room opened into the small dining room where her grandmother’s maple dining table and six chairs took up most of the space, huddled against the matching china cabinet that contained Grandma’s Willow Ware dishes.
Connor stopped and she turned to him, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said although he looked a little pale. “I think it might be a good idea if I sit down for a few minutes though.”
Catherine steered him to the recliner after helping him remove his leather jacket but she fixed her gaze on him until he looked up with a sheepish smile.
“What?” he asked, “I’m okay, really. It’s just that the car ride, the walk into the house kind of turned my head for a minute. I’m just a tiny bit dizzy but it’s passing already. And yeah, my leg hurts some. I think I need to get my bearings.”
She resisted the urge to check his pulse and nodded, “All right. I’ll show you the rest later although there’s not much more to see. The kitchen is straight through that door on the other side of the dining room, the bedroom room is through the door to the left. From the bedroom, the bathroom is off to the right and the front bedroom left. I don’t use it as a bedroom, though, more as a home office. The computer and stuff’s in there.”
“There’s just one bedroom?” Connor asked, “So who gets it or do we share?”
Heat flared through Catherine at the idea of sharing but she answered, “I figured you do and I’ll sleep out here for a few nights. Or that’s what I thought unless something changes.”
His dark eyes, deeper than any well and vivid as an unexpected rainbow, sparkled as he said, “I think change is on the way.”
“Do you?” Catherine asked, “Maybe. Would you like coffee or something?”
He nodded, “I’d love some.”
When she brought the fresh brewed coffee, he’d turned the chair so he could watch out the front window. A train rattled by across the street and Connor watched it. She remembered that his grandfather, who died when he wasn’t any older than five or six, had been a railroad engineer. His grandpa probably had been the o
nly relative who ever treated Connor with love or family respect, she mused. “Hey, sweetheart, here’s your coffee.”
“Thanks,” Connor said as he wrapped both hands around the steaming mug. “I’m watching the train go by. What’s for lunch?”
Catherine had planned to stock up at the supermarket before Connor’s arrival but she hadn’t done it and she sighed. “That’s a good question. I never made it to the store and there’s not much here since I’ve been at the hospital with you. I might have some canned soup or a frozen dinner.”
He wrinkled up his nose and shook his head. “Maybe you could order pizza. Do they have delivery in this town?”
“Sure,” she answered, glad he thought of an alternative so she didn’t have to rush away to the grocery store. “We can do that.”
Catherine called in an order and as they waited, she went over his patient instruction sheets provided at discharge. It all seemed standard and she had his meds in a plastic bag. Connor watched as she perused the information, then asked, “How long till I’m considered recovered?”
“Two weeks, give or take a few days,” Catherine answered, “You have a doctor’s appointment on February 10th and if everything’s good, you’ll be released.”
“February?” Connor asked, “What’s today?”
“January 27th,” she told him, “Your appointment’s in two weeks.”
“What if something’s not healed?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“Then you’ll go back in another week for a check-up,” Catherine said. “Don’t worry – you’ll heal all the way.”
Connor sighed and turned his head to stare at the railroad tracks. “I know but I’m wondering how soon I can get back to the club. The way my staff acted, I’ll be lucky if they haven’t got the place shut down or something. We’re having a big do on Valentine’s Day so if I’m okay, that works. I can be there to oversee everything.”
Her good mood fizzled like soda left out in a glass too long and her appetite curdled. Even though she knew he planned to split eventually, hearing Connor talk about it wasn’t easy. With a reminder to enjoy the time she had with him, Catherine schooled her face to a bland mask before she said, “Is it a party or what?”
Cat's Patient Heart Page 8
