Cat's Patient Heart

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  She said it with utter calm but inside, she trembled. He’d shut her out in the hospital when she asked and if he did again, the hurt would leach away some of the joy she felt after their lovemaking. Whether or not they could have a future hinged on his answer and she waited, edgy until he nodded.

  “All right, I’ll tell you but it’s not much of a story.”

  Catherine released the breath she’d held. “Okay. Let me get the coffee first.”

  Last time he had something to share, he’d put her on his lap and held her close but this time Connor sat in the recliner, feet touching the floor, and faced her, coffee in hand. Sensing he wanted distance Catherine settled down on the end of the couch, feet tucked beneath her.

  “That’s good,” Connor sighed as he took his first sip. “Thanks Cat.”

  “You’re welcome. Let’s get it over with. Just tell me why you have such awful nightmares.”

  “You can’t even let a guy finish his first cup of Joe,” Connor groused. He sipped another swig and then he added, “But maybe if I get it out, the dreams will go away. I don’t know.”

  “Sometimes it works that way,” Catherine said with caution.

  Connor leaned back and shut his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them to meet her gaze. “It’s post traumatic stress disorder. You probably figured that much, huh?”

  “I wondered if it might be,” she replied, “But what I don’t know is from when or what.”

  “The Middle East,” Connor answered, “Afghanistan.”

  Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that. Catherine had thought maybe a robbery at his club. “Were you in the service?”

  Amusement curled his lip into a smile that lightened his weary features.

  “Me? No, not hardly,” Connor answered, “I went over as a civilian contractor to make the big bucks and I did. That’s where I got the money for my club and my car.”

  “What’d you do over there?” Catherine asked as she tried to imagine Connor in the desert and failed.

  “I installed phone lines, mostly,” he said, “It sucked overall and it was a hell of lot more dangerous than I expected. I ended up with a unit caught under fire more than once and I watched a few people die, soldiers and civilians. Sometimes I dream about it, that’s all.”

  Catherine shook her head at his matter of fact tone. That was another old quirk of his, downplay anything that hurt. He’d survived an awful childhood with that technique.

  “Did you ever think about counseling or something?”

  Connor shook his head, “Nope and I won’t. I’ll deal with it and I can’t bitch. I’m alive so if I have a few bad dreams I’m still lucky, right?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I guess so,” Catherine said. “Why wouldn’t you tell me before when I asked?”

  Shadows touched his face and he sighed. “I just don’t like to think about it, Cat. So can we stop?”

  He’d told her what she wanted to know and there wasn’t much else to share. She could ask him to cough up details but somehow Catherine didn’t think it would help either of them.

  “Yeah, we can, Connor. I’m sorry, though.”

  “Sorry?”

  “That you went through all that. I never had any idea.”

  “I didn’t figure you would,” he said. “Is there any more coffee?”

  He dismissed the subject and after a momentary pause she nodded. “Sure I’ll pour you another cup.”

  In her retro kitchen Catherine filled two cups, sweetened hers, and pondered the image of Connor in the Middle East, Connor in a war zone. She would’ve never figured him for a soldier, true, but she wouldn’t have guessed he’d become a civilian contractor either. Somehow Catherine knew that she’d heard all the details he’d probably ever share but she could deal with that.

  In the days since he skidded back into her life Catherine had wondered where he came up with the money to own For My Sins but she hadn’t dwelled on it. There’d been just too many other things to consider.

  “Bet you thought I made my bucks dealing drugs,” Connor teased when she handed him his coffee. “Or at least you figured I did something illegal.”

  “I didn’t,” Catherine said. “I know you better than that.”

  He snorted. “Anyone else from the old neighborhood or high school would have believed it in a heartbeat.”

  “That’s because you played up the bad boy angle too well,” she replied.

  Connor laughed but without humor, a dry and brittle hoot. “My mom did plenty to help it along and so did my sis. We weren’t exactly the Romano's or the Taylors.”

  His references to television sitcoms from their youth dated him but Catherine spoke up before he could belittle himself any further. “Neither was my family. No one’s like that in real life.”

  “Kitty cat, most families come a hell of a lot closer than mine,” Connor said.

  She could concede that but didn’t. Catherine, even though she sat across the room, basked in the intimacy that lingered after lovemaking. For now Connor remained open to her, no shutting out and she liked that.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore, sweetheart,” she told him.

  His slow smile eased any pain she felt on his behalf. “So what does, Cat?”

  “We do,” Catherine said, “Me and you.”

  Connor’s face lit like a torch in absolute blackness. “You got that one right, Kitty Cat. Come here.”

  He stretched wide his arms and without hesitation she rose to enter them, letting him hold her tight and kiss her with quiet contemplation and celebration of a love thought lost but found again. After a long time they cuddled without speaking. There wasn’t a need for words between them.

  After breakfast they both slept, Connor in the old recliner, Catherine on the couch. Both were more accustomed to sleeping days than nights anyway. When they woke mid-afternoon, without talking about it, they rose and went into the bedroom where Connor loved her again, sweet and slow this time.

  Enchanted into a happiness she’d never expected to enjoy again Catherine savored it and she surrendered all her worries and fears that heartbreak could be waiting. She banished her anxious thoughts and lived in the moment. Whatever might come, she’d deal with it when it arrived and they spent that week before his doctor’s appointment tuned together in every way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time Connor reported for his follow-up appointment on the Friday before Valentine’s Day he’d healed so much that Dr. Craig complimented his progress. The doctor released him and so they left the clinic across the street from the hospital with Connor jubilant, Catherine quiet. Whether she liked it or not, the day of truth was here. He’d stay or he’d go but whatever happened, it would be soon.

  “That’s good news,” she said as they exited the parking lot, Connor driving her Honda Accord. “He didn’t even think you needed additional physical therapy.”

  “Nope,” Connor said, with a happy lilt in his voice. “Do you want to go grab something to eat?”

  “Sure,” Catherine replied. Since he’d been released from the hospital, they’d kept close to home and what she hadn’t cooked, they brought home from a fast food chain or somewhere else. “Do you still like Asian food?”

  “I love it,” Connor told her. “Tell me where and we’ll get lunch.”

  Over broccoli beef, Mandarin combination, pot stickers, egg rolls, and crab rangoons they talked about everything but what came next. The subtle seasonings never tasted so delicious on her tongue as Catherine enjoyed the meal but she valued Connor’s company more. As she watched him eat, she preserved each expression and stored it. During the meal she put aside her fears and lived in the now.

  “Let’s go home,” Connor said when they’d finished. “I’d like to take a bath.”

  Catherine smiled and accepted the hand he stretched toward her across the table. “Okay but why?”

  His eyes deepened to the shade of good whiskey. “Because I want to take a bath with you, the whole deal, bubble
s, candles, music. What do you think?”

  “I like,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. Desire rippled across her skin like a summer breeze. “Let’s go.”

  On the short drive to her house Connor never stopped touching her. They held hands, he stroked her thigh and at every stop he kissed her. Catherine’s anticipation built to a fever pitch but when he turned into her short, narrow street most of her heat fizzled. A fire engine red Trans Am sat in front of her house and even though she knew it couldn’t be, Catherine could have sworn that it was his old car.

  Connor saw it too and whooped aloud, a wild outcry of pure delight. “Will you look at that?”

  “Is that your car?” Catherine asked, her lips forcing out the words with effort. If it was, she wondered just how it arrived and who drove it.

  “Oh, yeah,” Connor crowed. “That’s my pride and joy. Isn’t it like my first one, Cat?”

  “It is,” she said without his enthusiasm. “Who brought it down?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” he said as he parked at the curb.

  “You don’t?” Catherine couldn’t help her skepticism.

  “No, baby, I don’t,” Connor told her, face serious. “I didn’t ask anyone to drive it down.”

  “You didn’t?”

  His good humor faded and he snorted, “No, Cat, I didn’t. Jesus, you’ve been with me practically 24/7. You’d know if I did.”

  “Maybe,” Catherine said, not quite ready to concede. “How did someone get the keys?”

  “I keep a spare set at the club,” Connor answered. “You’re mad and I don’t understand why.”

  “Mad?” Catherine asked with a phony laugh and lied. “I’m not angry at all.”

  He sent a sideways look in her direction and shook his head. “Let’s go see who came down.”

  “Okay.”

  Connor stepped out into the street and before Catherine could exit to the sidewalk, a woman flew off the front porch and collided with Connor.

  “Hi, Con!” she screeched, “Surprise! You look totally awesome, man.”

  “Lisa,” Connor said. Catherine noted that he didn’t sound pleased but she forgot that when Lisa flung her arms around Connor and hugged him, rubbing her large bosom over his chest. “What are you doing?”

  “Trixie and me cooked up the idea,” Lisa babbled, stepping back from Connor although she clung to his coat sleeve with a possessive hand. “We figured you’d want to be back for the Valentine’s Day party and since your bike got totaled, I thought what the hell, I’d bring the car down for you. Get your stuff and we’ll hit the road. We can make it back before the band starts tonight, easy!”

  Catherine’s anger simmered into a full boil. She stepped forward to stand at Connor’s shoulder, a far from subtle method of staking her claim but as she did, Lisa linked her arm through Connor’s.

  “Is this your old friend?” Lisa babbled, emphasizing the old.

  Connor unwound from Lisa’s arm and reached for Catherine. She moved back two steps so he couldn’t put his arm around her which earned her a wounded stare from him.

  “Lisa, this is my Cat,” Connor said, “Catherine, this is Lisa. She works for me at my club.”

  “I know,” Catherine said it in as rude a tone as she could conjure. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It always reminded me of a hog calling contest winner when I heard it on the phone.”

  Lisa’s face slackened with shock and Connor’s eyes darkened with anger, not desire.

  “Catherine,” he began but she shook her head. Whatever he had to say she wouldn’t listen to on a public street.

  Catherine flounced up the steps to the porch, unlocked her front door with record speed and slammed it behind her. She tossed her keys across the room, hearing them land somewhere in the dining room and resisted the urge to kick furniture. Panting with repressed fury, Catherine moved to the window so she could see Connor and Lisa standing toe to toe on the sidewalk. He didn’t look very happy but Lisa laughed, throwing her head back with abandon as Catherine glowered.

  She didn’t linger to watch but headed for the kitchen where she kept a bottle of good vodka. Catherine didn’t drink often but when she did, she wanted the best so she poured a shot of the clear alcohol and downed it. Connor entered the house and called her name but she ignored him and filled her glass again.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as he burst into the kitchen.

  “I’m having a drink,” Catherine replied. “What do you care?”

  “Baby, don’t be angry with me,” Connor said. “I didn’t ask her to come down or know anything about it.”

  Warmth from the vodka centered in her stomach and radiated outward with a pleasant glow. “But she’s here.”

  “Yeah, she’s here.”

  “And you’re going back,” Catherine spat at him, knowing he would. She’d known it since she saw the Trans-Am outside.

  Connor’s face saddened. “I have to sometime, Kitty Cat. You’ve always know that.”

  Emotional agony roared to life within. All the old heartbreak, the anguish and hurt from the past returned full force as it combined with her present fear. Catherine let herself love Connor again and now, afraid that he would hurt her like before she defended her heart. To prevent injury she raised her defenses and shut him out. Even as she did, Catherine knew she lacked reason but she couldn’t be rational.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she shook her head. “You don’t have to go today.”

  “Baby, I should. It’s my business,” he pleaded, “Everything I worked for is at stake. Come with me.”

  She’d wanted to hear that invitation and as she parted her lips to accept it, Lisa burst into her house like a whirling top. Without permission or welcome, Lisa strode through Catherine’s home and stalked into the kitchen.

  “What’s taking so long, Con? Let’s get a move on, dude.”

  In a tone as mild as oatmeal, Connor said, “Be patient, Lisa. Go wait outside, okay?”

  “Whatever,” Lisa said with an eye roll and flounce but her departure wasn’t enough to satisfy Catherine who resisted an urge to pull the bitch’s hair and scratch her face.

  “Get out of my house,” Catherine shouted as Lisa retreated. “You go too Connor Donavan. Pack your crap and go with her.”

  Misery shadowed his face and Catherine watched as one lone tear rolled down his left cheek. His voice cracked like thin ice as he said, “Baby, don’t be like this. I love you, Catherine. Please come with me.”

  Within her chest, her heart shuddered to a halt. Her lungs refused to draw air and tears knotted together into a ball of ice in her stomach. Catherine ached to accept, to throw a few things into a suitcase and go with Connor but the trust she’d built over the weeks since he came into her life weakened at her first sight of Lisa. Fear warred against her love for him and she shook her head, mute with anguish.

  “I can’t,” she said, tears thickening her voice, “I won’t. I don’t go where I’m not wanted.”

  “Cat, I do want you,” Connor cried, “Can’t you believe that?”

  “No, I can’t,” she said, as her heart splintered into a thousand pieces, “Three’s a crowd and I’m not riding back with you and Lisa too. You shouldn’t even ask me.”

  He crossed the room in one stride and grasped her arms with his. “What do you want, Catherine? Tell me for Christ’s sake.”

  “Stay, Connor,” she whispered, “Don’t go.”

  He moved until the space between them was so slight that nothing could pass between their bodies. “Baby, that’s the one thing I can’t do. Things have happened at the club I have to handle. I’ve got to go. Won’t you come with me?”

  Catherine shook her head, unable to speak with tears closing her throat.

  Connor grabbed her, hands rough on her skin and kissed her hard. His lips possessed her and his mouth branded her, marked her as his. It wasn’t a gentle kiss but a powerful deep one that robbed her breath and made her head spin. Connor consum
ed her and drank from her mouth as if he sipped wine. She struggled not to kiss him back, hands pushing against him in protest but Catherine couldn’t fight the attraction or his pull. Connor kissed her until she thought she’d black out and then he released her, eyes blazing with desire denied and anger.

  “I’m going then,” he said, “But I want you to know that I love you Cat Lessard and if you need me, you call me. I don’t want any other woman and I sure as hell don’t want Lisa. After the party on Valentine’s Day, I’m coming back as soon as I can. Do you hear me?”

  “Don’t bother,” Catherine hissed like the cat he’d nicknamed her. “If you can’t stay, don’t come back. Let your club comfort you in the lonely nights, hold your hand when you’re sick, and be there for you. Just don’t ask me to ever do any of it again.”

  She possessed a hot temper when provoked and so did he. Connor stared at her, his face turning redder with each word she said and then he turned on his heel without speaking. Catherine heard him as he ransacked the bedroom and tossed his few possessions into his leather saddlebag. He emerged with it just as she walked through the dining room into the living room. Connor turned toward her as if he thought she might change her mind or say something else but Catherine shook her head.

  “Kitty cat?” he asked in a voice that sliced through her flesh to hit bone, a knife that stabbed her heart. The pure emotion in his tone evoked everything she felt and she ached to respond but stubborn, she refused to open herself up for more heartache.

  “Oh, Connor,” Catherine sighed.

  She might have said more, could have even relented but Lisa bounded up the porch steps to pound on the door. “Con, come on! I’m ready to go! What are you waiting on?”

  Catherine touched his sleeve. “Take care, Connor.”

  “That’s it?” he asked, pain radiating from his eyes.

  She nodded, unable to trust what she might say.

  “Okay, then,” Connor said, “I guess payback is as rough as they say.”

  With that he walked out of her living room, through the door and out of her life.

  This time she thought it would be forever.