So he'd transferred to Harvard, only after strong alumni recommendations and academic counseling, to learn business instead of rocks. Without Brian Abbott's help in getting into Harvard and by holding Kirby Investments together, the company would have folded years ago.
Grant eased into a comfortable chair and dialed Brian's office.
"Where have you been, son? I've been trying to reach you on the cell phone."
"Believe it or not, I've been in church. I had the phone off."
"Church? You?"
Grant chuckled. "Don't sound like the earth is going to split open and swallow me up. I went with a . . . friend."
"It's that woman, isn't it? I knew she'd have a strange effect on you."
"She is different," Grant said, looking around the living room. How did the modern furniture look to her? Too stark and plain?
"How's the kid?"
Grant smiled. "He made it through surgery just great. Erina's at the hospital with him now."
"Good. Now maybe you can get your mind on business. We need to meet with the Phoenix people on Thursday. That's the latest I could make the meeting. We're pushing it at that."
"Okay. I can make Thursday."
"Well, hot damn, Son. I'm glad to hear it," Brian said sarcastically, his voice booming over the telephone as though he was right there in the room.
"Don't get on my case. I've had a few things on my mind."
"Grant--"
"What time is the meeting?"
"Ten. I'm having lunch brought in so we can get finished in one day."
"Fax me whatever I need. I'm staying down here until Thursday morning."
"Hell, Grant, come on back to Houston. Your mother's having a dinner party on Wednesday night for one of her pet projects--Friends of the Library, I think. Why don't you--"
"I'm staying down here, Brian. I know you can't accept this, but I'm going to be involved in that baby's recovery."
"It's not the baby I'm concerned with," Brian replied.
Grant ran a hand through his hair. How could he reassure Brian about something he didn't fully understand himself? "I'll be in around nine thirty on Thursday. Just send me what I need before then."
He hung up the phone, concerned that Erina and Colin were coming between him and Brian. He hoped not. Brian was like an uncle, at least. Maybe even a father.
Grant pushed out of the chair and walked around the condo. Funny, he'd always thought of it as peaceful and quiet. Now it seemed empty. Barren. Not at all like Erina, who glowed with warmth and motherly love.
He walked into the guest bedroom. She'd need somewhere to go after Colin was released from the hospital. No one had ever used this extra bedroom except her, when she'd changed clothes after her bath. When was that? Yesterday? It seemed much longer than that.
She'd need a crib for Colin, plus some baby clothes and diapers. And other things. He had no idea what a baby needed outside the basics. The guest bedroom contained one double bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. A crib would fit nicely at the end of the bed. And even another chest, if needed, to store the baby clothes.
He needed to do something about that soon. The doctor had said that Colin could be released in a week.
Across the room, he heard the fax machine receiving. The information about the Phoenix management firm, no doubt. He had to look at it, just to make sure he had what he needed for the Thursday meeting.
Then he was going back to the hospital and check on Colin. And convince Erina that she should stay at the condo.
#
Erina learned a lot that afternoon, reading magazines in the Intensive Care waiting room. She didn't understand many of the words that were used, and wanted to know more about some of the historical events that were sighted, but she got a good picture of how modern women were supposed to act.
She was shocked to the roots of her hair. Grant had asked to her act more "normal," but there was no way she was going to behave like these women, with their short, revealing clothing, their quest for perfect lovers, and their constant concern over what they ate and drank. She couldn't believe all the articles about the sexual act. Women seemed obsessed with it, for what reason she couldn't imagine. The very idea made her flushed and hot. Despite her attraction to Grant, she didn't believe that the act of coupling could be as wonderful as the writers expressed.
Could it?
She was debating the issue with herself when the object of her speculation appeared in the doorway. She dropped the magazine like a hot pot and tried to calm her racing heart.
"Sorry I've been gone so long. How's Colin?"
"He's fine," she said, sounding somewhat breathless to her own ears. "They let me see him every hour, but only for a few minutes."
"I'm sure he'll be out of ICU soon. I talked to the doctor on my way in."
"You sought him out?"
"No, I saw him in the hall and asked."
"What did he tell you?"
"Basically that Colin was doing great, but he was worried about you."
"And why would the doctor be worryin' about me?"
"Maybe because you look like a strong wind would blow you over."
Erina thought back to the magazines she'd read, the pictures of the tall, curvy models. She supposed she did look underfed and unkempt compared to them. Was Grant Kirby accustomed to those kinds of women? And if so, why was he spending so much time with her?
She raised her chin. "I'm just a bit on the short side, Mr. Kirby."
"Have you eaten anything this afternoon?"
"No, not after the lunch you fed me."
"It's almost dinnertime."
"Then I'll eat a bit soon."
"We'll go out to dinner. Do you like seafood?"
"You mean fish and the like?"
"Yes. Gaido's is what you need. Great food, large portions."
"I'm not leaving Colin again."
"You can't stay here constantly."
"I slept here before. I don't see why I can't stay again."
"You had a cot in his room. Now he's in ICU. You can't stay in these chairs overnight."
"I don't see why not."
"Well, you just can't," he said imperiously. "Let's get some dinner and then we'll come back to the hospital and see Colin again."
She thought of the fresh water, the toothpaste and sweet smelling soap at his home, and longed for a moment to refresh herself. But she couldn't put her own needs first.
"Colin is fine. He'll sleep most of the time anyway, so you might as well get some food and rest."
"Why do you want to take me to dinner?" she asked, looking up at him. He wasn't smiling. His arms were crossed over his wide chest in a gesture she'd come to recognize as extreme stubbornness.
"Just because I do. Now why don't we ask if they'll let me see Colin before we go."
"But--"
He walked toward her, stopping in front of her chair and holding out a hand. "Come on, Erina. I'm starving, even if you aren't."
She gazed up at his handsome face, wondering how he'd become so familiar to her in such a short time. She should tell him to go to dinner alone, that she'd stay with Colin here all night, even if the hospital didn't want her to sleep in this chairs. But he looked so earnest, and seemed to care so for Colin's welfare.
She should tell Grant Kirby that Colin was her child and she'd take care of him. Colin wasn't this man's responsibility.
She held out her hand. "I'm just goin' to dinner with you, Mr. Kirby, and only if Colin is fine."
He pulled her up quickly, catching her against him as she titled forward. "I asked you to call me Grant."
"I . . . I'm tryin' to remember."
"Remember this." She felt a rush of excitement as his head descended, as she felt his hot breath and then his firm lips lock over hers.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief moment of pleasure. His lips slanted and coaxed a response she couldn't deny. Just like in the magazines, she thought. She finally understood what the nurse meant
by "hunk." But not even the nurse could know how wonderful he kissed, how he made her feel as though she were floating off the floor in a mist of stars. When she felt his tongue brush against her closed lips, she didn't even try to resist his gentle invasion.
"Ms. O'Shea?"
She barely heard her name, but suddenly his lips were gone and she dropped back to earth in a dizzying fall.
"Yes?" she whispered, still staring into the blazing eyes of Grant Kirby.
"You can see Colin now. Sorry to interrupt."
Erina pushed away, but he held her steady when her knees threatened to buckle. The nurse was gone, they were alone again, and yet the spell was broken.
"Do you mind if I go in with you to see him?"
"No," she said, not meeting his eyes.
"I'm not sorry I kissed you, Erina," he said softly.
"I should slap your handsome face," she replied before thinking. As soon as the words left her mouth, she looked at him.
He smiled, the dimple appearing like magic. "I don't think you're into violence, so I'll ignore the threat," he said easily, "but I'm glad to know you find me appealing."
"I didn't say you were appealin'," she said, blushing and looking away. "I just said you had a handsome face. Now I'd like to see my son."
"Whatever you say," he replied with a chuckle.
Colin looked very peaceful, even with all the tubes and bandages across his little chest. Erina knew she was getting used to seeing him attached to machines and things that she'd learned were monitors to check his heart and breathing. She no longer wanted to cry when she saw needles stuck under the skin of her baby. She wished he didn't have to suffer, but she was grateful for the doctors' ability to save Colin's life.
Standing beside her, Grant filled the room with his large body and warmth. He reached out and stroked his finger down Colin's cheek, brushing against her arm as he bent toward the bed. Erina's heart seemed to flutter at the image of the strong man and the tiny child. How wonderful it would be if Colin had a father like Grant.
What was she thinking? She'd been sent to this time for a Colin's surgery, not for a husband for her and a father for her baby. And he'd get what he needed to save his life, of that Erina was sure, whether it was in the form of the doctors, the hospital, or a generous man like Grant Kirby. The Holy Mother had not let her down. To ask for more would be selfish and foolish.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They went to dinner at Gaido's on Sea Wall Boulevard. As they walked from the Cherokee to the restaurant, Erina noticed many cars traveling up and down the wide road. The ocean lapped against the sand beyond the sea wall and salt spray tainted the air. She was warm in her new clothes because the cold weather was gone, replaced with the typical balmy climate.
The outside of the restaurant wasn't elaborate, but inside were carpets and wonderful lighting, along with illuminated cases of cut crystal so beautiful that she had to stop and admire the pieces before being led to the table.
She was surprised that it was nearly dark outside already; she hadn't thought much time had passed since arriving at the hospital after lunch. Apparently, reading magazines made the hours pass quickly--especially ones with such shocking topics. So different from Godey's or The Saturday Evening Post.
And, of course, waiting to see Colin gave her a distorted sense of time. She was so happy her baby was going to be well that the world--even this new, unknown time--seemed as bright as the lighted crystal, and so full of hope that heart was near to bursting.
Over her protests, Grant ordered a large combination of scallops, shrimp, fish, and oysters for her, along with a wonderfully sweet white wine from Germany. She couldn't eat that quantity in days, she told him, but as they talked and sipped the wine, she was surprised at how much of the delicious food simply disappeared.
"I'll not eat another bite all week," she said, wiping her mouth with the cloth napkin. "Thank you for dinner."
"No dessert?" he asked, smiling across the table.
"Not another bite. You can't tempt me with anythin' else." She took a sip of her cooling cup of tea.
"Really? You wound my ego," he said with a half-smile that made his eyes sparkle in the candlelight.
She felt a blush warm her cheeks as she remembered the kiss in the waiting room. "I'd best be gettin' back to the hospital now," she said, looking away. The restaurant was full of couples and families. Although she felt a bit disheveled from spending so much time in her new outfit, she at least knew she was dressed appropriately.
She didn't look at all out of place, even when she felt so different on the inside. If she were really a woman of this time, wouldn't she go back to Grant's condo, have sex with him, then "share" the experience with her friends? She could never be that modern. Her religion forbade it; her experience reinforced the danger of physical attraction. With shaking hands, she refreshed her tea from the hot pot the waiter had brought minutes before.
"I'll take you back to the hospital, but I want you to come home with me later."
"Mr. Kirby!" she said, her spoon clanking loudly as she dropped it against the saucer. The fact that his words echoed her thoughts was too upsetting.
"Calm down, Erina. I have the extra bedroom and I think it would be a good idea for you to get an uninterrupted night's sleep. You can't stay with Colin in the ICU. I'll take you back to the hospital first thing in the morning."
"I can stay in the waiting room tonight."
"But wouldn't you be more comfortable in a real bed? Besides, you need to change clothes and you'd probably like another bath. Since everything I bought for you is still at my place, it makes sense for you to come over tonight."
She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Why do you want me to come to your condo?"
"Because, like I said, it makes sense. You've got to be exhausted. You need to relax, at least for a little while, and--"
"But why would you be carin' about me and my son?"
"Dammit, Erina, I just do, okay? I don't know why."
"And you don't believe in miracles?"
"No, I don't. I believe I'm attracted to you, despite my best advice to myself that you're way to young and that you've got some secret to hide. I believe that I care about what happens to a baby too small to help himself. I believe I have the money and time to help."
"You don't think that God is guiding us all, and that the Virgin Mary might just be askin' for your faith? She did put us in your condo."
"You broke in. I don't know how or why."
Erina sat up straight, her spine against the chair back. "I did no such thing. I went to the cathedral and prayed for a miracle."
Grant leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. "Look,, Erina, I suppose you suffered some trauma. It's easier to believe you're from the past than accept what really happened. Obviously, you've studied Galveston before 1900 and my family. Lord knows, you've got your historical perspective down solid. But for once, just try to tell me where you're really from and what you want from me."
"I want nothing from you for myself. And I've told you what happened to me."
"Then did you plan this whole scheme to get your son the medical attention he needs."
Erina fought the frustration she always felt at Grant's dismissal of the truth. She knew her first reaction was to get angry, but that wouldn't make him believe her. Somehow, he had to believe that divine intervention had occurred, but perhaps that was another miracle. "I didn't plan on meetin' you. I didn't know how the Blessed Virgin would grant a miracle, but I'm grateful she sent me to a man who would care for Colin."
"So after he's well--what then? Surely you want something for yourself: an apartment, a job, an education?"
"I can do just fine. I imagine even in this day ladies need their clothing tended or their houses cleaned. But I'd like a better life for my son. An education for him would be a fine thing. When he grows up, he can work with his mind instead of his hands."
Grant glanced at his
own hands. Erina noticed again how large they were, how weathered they appeared in contrast to his well-cut hair or clean-shaven jaw. "So you want me to provide a college fund for Colin?" he said casually.
"No! I've not asked you for a penny of your money."
"You still believe I'm a laborer, don't you?"
"I've no reason to call you a liar, Mr. Kirby."
"Grant. And I really do run our family investment company. That's not what I'd planned to do with my life, but it's what I chose."
"Your job must not be too demandin' then, because you don't even go to the office," Erina observed.
"It has its peaks and valleys. Some days I don't even leave the office. I have a corporate attorney, Brian Abbott, who handles the contracts. Dottie Benson is my CFO--Chief Financial Officer--and I have property managers in the various cities. In addition my own office staff takes care of the daily operations of the investment firm."
"And this office is in Houston?"
"That's right. I usually just come to Galveston on the weekends to get away from . . . well, to have a change of pace." He paused, looking at her intently. "But I suppose you know that, since you knew where my condo was and when I'd be there."
"I knew no such thing, as I've said before."
He didn't answer, just continued to stare in a most unnerving way.
"Colin and I will be fine if you have to work. I'll remember not to talk to anyone about my past."
"That's good, but that's not the only reason I'm staying in Galveston."
"And what would the other one be?" she asked, feeling a bit breathless from his close perusal.
"Some spunky Irish girl who should get an Oscar for the performance of a lifetime."
"I'm not performin'! And I don't know anyone named Oscar."
Grant laughed. "We'll see if you're real, sooner or later."
"I'm here because of a miracle and no words can change that fact."
"Like I said, you're certainly consistent."
"And like you've said, you don't believe in miracles."
"That's right."
"I do. And I also believe that the Holy Mother chose you for a reason. I'm not sure why, but maybe it's because Colin was denied his true father, and you are a Kirby who takes responsibility seriously."
Miracle of Love Page 10
