She made it across the parking lot and in through the automatic doors on wobbly legs. Darcy looked around for someone to talk to, but before she found anyone, her legs gave out, and she sank, boneless, onto a chair.
In all her haste to get Nettie to the hospital in time, she’d forgotten one thing. Billy.
How was she going to tell him?
* * *
BILL TRIED to ignore the persistent horseplay in the parachute shop and busied himself getting ready for the night practice jump. Though he enjoyed parachuting in the daytime, night jumps were a different matter. Not that he’d let on to anybody on the team.
A lot of guys signed on to Special Ops because they loved skydiving. He’d done it for the extra pay.
Danny Murphey strolled by and swatted him. “Hey, what’s this business about you taking off every other weekend or so to go home? You’d think you had a girl up there or something.”
Murphey didn’t know how close to the truth he’d come. Bill felt the heat run out of his face, but he kept his eyes trained on his locker and hoped nobody had seen his reaction. “What’s it to ya if I do?” Only the captain and Senior Master Sergeant Blocker knew the full story, and Bill intended to keep it that way.
“Leave the man be, Murphey. Don’t you got something better to do than goose him? Nobody ribbed you about Allison,” Sergeant Blocker said, a fierce scowl making his dark face even darker.
Bill didn’t know what the deal was about Allison, but apparently it was just the thing to shut Murphey up. The man blushed to the roots of his red hair.
“Yo, somebody’s been in my locker,” Ski yelled from the other side of the equipment room.
“What makes you say that?” Block strode to where Ski stood looking at his locker door.
“The lock’s not closed.”
“You sure you didn’t just leave it undone?”
“No. I never leave it unlocked. And look here, it looks like somebody picked it.” Ski held the lock up to the sergeant. “See, there’s scratches around the keyhole.”
“I’ll be. It does look like it’s been messed with. You find anything missin’?”
Ski rummaged through the contents. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Bus’s here. Fall in,” Lieutenant Marx called from the door.
“Maybe the scratches were there all along,” Block said. “Just make sure it’s locked up tight and let’s go.”
Ski grumbled, but he did as the sergeant told him. He slammed the locker shut, snapped the lock closed, then tugged on it to make certain it had caught.
“Come on, Ski. You can inventory your stuff when we get back.” Bill pulled up the zipper that ran the length of his leg all the way up his jumpsuit to his chin. He hoisted his parachute harness to his shoulder and prepared to board the crew bus that would take them to the waiting aircraft.
“Hold it, Hays. You’re not going,” Lieutenant Marx said, barring Bill’s passage with his arm. “Go see the captain in the shop.”
“But, I need this j—” Bill protested.
“No, you don’t,” Block countered. “You just got back from the Nellis trip. You got more than your share of jumps for the quarter. You don’t need no pay jump. Go on,” he said, jerking his head toward the captain’s office in the other building. “See what the captain wants.”
Bill didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved. The captain needing to see him was another matter. What could he possibly want that would keep him from taking off with the rest of the team?
Only one way to find out. He stowed his gear back in the locker he’d just shut and set off to see the captain.
The expression on Captain Thibodeaux’s face was grim, and Bill wondered briefly what he might have done, then another thought struck him. “Is it my mother?”
He could barely breathe while he waited what seemed like hours for the captain to speak.
“Your mother’s been admitted to hospital. Pneumonia, they think. She’s not in any immediate danger, but according to your sister, her condition has not stabilized.”
Bill tried to speak, but his throat was too dry.
“I’ve arranged for you to take emergency leave,” Thibodeaux said, handing Bill the necessary papers. “It’s for a week. If you need more, just let me know.” He smiled as if trying to make Bill feel better.
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll leave right away.”
“Take care, Bill. You don’t need to worry your mother more by having an accident yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” Bill said, then turned.
He was halfway to the car before he wondered if he’d been properly dismissed.
* * *
DARCY WAS STIFF and uncomfortable from trying to sleep in a plastic chair in the waiting room outside the ICU. She had made Earline take Leah home and promised to call if there was any change, but so far the only change was the position of the hands on the clock on the waiting-room wall.
She yawned and stretched and got up to try to walk some of the kinks out. Her left foot felt as if she were walking on pins and needles, but the rest of her was wide awake. She peered through the glass windows of Nettie’s cubicle and was rewarded with the steady blink of the cardiac monitor.
Doctor Williamson had started Nettie on a course of antibiotics and a diuretic to help clear fluid from her tissues. Barring any complications, Nettie would be home soon.
Still, Darcy couldn’t help feeling that it was her fault. She should have noticed it sooner. How could Nettie have gone from a seemingly healthy cardiac patient that morning, to so seriously ill by afternoon?
A loud whoosh breaking into the eerie silence of the hospital after midnight announced that someone had come in through the automatic doors. Hoping it was somebody who could give her more information as to Nettie’s condition, Darcy looked up.
Bill, clad in camouflage battle dress uniform and shoving a scarlet beret into his thigh pocket, strode through the doors.
Without thinking about her reasons or the consequences, Darcy rushed into his arms.
Nothing could have felt better than the way he wrapped his arms around her in response. Pressing her cheek against his broad, hard chest, Darcy breathed in the scent of smoke and aviation fuel and Bill and warmed her chilled blood with the heat from his solid body.
“How is she?”
Darcy drew in a long, slow breath. This was the part she hated. Here was where she’d have to admit that she’d failed him. She pulled back and took his hands. Then she looked down and rested her forehead against his chest. Hoping he wouldn’t push her away, she whispered, “Oh, Billy, I’m so sorry. I promised you I’d take care of your mother and I’ve let you down. I should have caught it sooner.”
Bill said nothing for a long moment, but Darcy could feel him draw in a deep breath. She waited for him to do something, anything. Finally, he let go of her hands, and Darcy mourned the loss of his touch.
Would he ever hold her again?
She stepped back, steeling herself for whatever Bill would dish out.
He reached for her, tipped her face up and looked down into her eyes.
CHAPTER NINE
“DARCY, YOU DID what you could,” Bill said, his voice thick from exhaustion and emotion. “I didn’t expect miracles. If you hadn’t known what to do, it could have been so much worse.” Billy drew in a deep breath and looked over Darcy’s head toward the nurses’ station. His eyes burned, and though he wanted to convince himself that the stinging was because of exhaustion and the long, tense drive here, he knew otherwise. He blinked frantically to clear his weary eyes.
“But, you counted on me…” Darcy still didn’t seem to be able to look at him.
Bill framed her face with his hands and tipped it upward again. As he looked dow
n into her tired eyes, he could see the fatigue etched on her face. He could see the caring. “No, Darcy. You haven’t let me down. You did just what you were supposed to do. You were there. That’s what she needed. Just to have you there,” he said, his voice choking up. He figured it was best to shut up before he gave himself away.
And he couldn’t help wishing he could get down on his knees and beg for her to be there for him. Always. Not just until this was all over.
He knew from looking at the hospital setup with the tubes and monitors that he and Darcy wouldn’t have to fake a breakup. Momma would be gone—long before that.
Bill drew in a deep, long breath and figured he’d had enough time to compose himself. “Can I see her?”
“You can look through the glass,” Darcy said. “She’s sleeping now, and she needs her rest.”
A nurse came toward them from a room that looked like the cockpit of the space shuttle or, at least, command central with all the technology packed inside.
“You must be Mrs. Hays’s son,” the nurse said, her voice quiet, efficient, calming in an odd sort of way. She extended her hand and introduced herself.
Darcy stepped back, but hovered nearby as if she might be needed to help.
Bill nodded, noting that the woman did not let go of his hand. He liked that. It showed she cared. “What can you tell me about my mother’s condition?”
“She’s stable for now. She’ll probably go to a regular room in the morning,” the nurse said, squeezing his hand.
“And when can she go home?”
“That’s not up to me to say. Dr. Williamson will have to make that decision, but I’d bet it would be the first part of next week.” She let go of his hands and turned toward the cubicle where Bill’s mother slept.
“You can go in and sit with her, if you like. I don’t know if she’ll wake, but something tells me she’ll know you’re here.” The nurse smiled, then turned back to her work station.
Bill turned to Darcy. She smiled and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go on,” she said softly. “Nettie needs you.”
“Don’t you want to come?” Was he such a coward that he couldn’t face his mother looking so tiny among all those machines without Darcy to hold his hand?
Darcy shook her head. “You go. She needs to know you’re here.” She turned toward the bank of chairs, then looked back over her shoulder. “Then I think we should both go home and try to get some sleep. Neither one of us is going to be much good to her if we’re too exhausted to think.”
Bill guessed she was right. And Momma was in good hands. He was beat, and it would be good to lie down in his own bed for a while. Even if it was only for a couple of hours.
Even if he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep a wink.
Drawing a deep breath, he stepped into the room and sat down on a metal chair beside the hospital bed. He found the frail hand encumbered by tubes and tape and stroked it with his own. “It’s all right, Momma. I’m here,” he whispered.
She stirred and her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. “I knew you’d come,” she murmured, her voice gravelly and weak. “Now, go home and get some rest. I’ll be here in the morning.”
Bill didn’t want to go. He held her hand, so papery white, so dry and brittle. He continued to stroke. He didn’t know what to do. He was so tired he could hardly see straight, but on the other hand he needed to be here.
His mother’s eyes fluttered again. “I told you…to go home…” she whispered. “Go on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bill could see clearly that his being here was making his mother even more agitated. And he knew she needed her rest. “All right, Momma,” he said as he leaned forward. He kissed her forehead and was rewarded with the flicker of a smile, then he pushed to his feet.
It was time for him and Darcy to go home.
Home. He liked the sound of it. Not the place, but the thought that Darcy would be there.
Even if he would be sleeping alone in a bedroom down the hall, they would be together under the same roof.
Like the family they’d never get a chance to be.
* * *
DARCY AND BILL walked out through the emergency exit together, but Darcy stopped for a moment to breathe the cool, night air as Bill strode ahead. The darkness seemed so refreshing after the oppressive heat when she’d entered this place. Had it only been yesterday afternoon? She drew a long, deep breath, then started toward the car.
Strong hands caught her and Bill hauled her back. “Where are you going?” he growled.
She looked at him, confused. “To the car. Home. Where do you think?”
“With me,” he said in a tone so proprietary that it reverberated down to Darcy’s toes. “It’s late. You’re tired. I don’t want you driving all that way in that rattletrap.”
“Oh. But it was all right for your mother,” she responded archly.
“My mother didn’t have a choice. You do.”
In spite of her weariness, Darcy bristled. “I drove it here. Who are you to say that I can’t drive it back?”
Bill seemed to sag, his shoulders drooped. “Now don’t go Women’s Lib on me. I wasn’t doubting your abilities. It’s late. Let me drive. You can take the car home tomorrow.” Without giving her a chance to rebut his statement, he strode away as if he expected her to follow.
Darcy, her hands on her hips, watched him go. She wanted to argue, she really did, but she was so tired. And if Bill wanted to be macho and drive, it was okay by her.
This time.
Still, she wasn’t going to let him get away scot-free, she decided as she trotted after him.
“Like you didn’t drive all night to get here,” she challenged as she climbed into the Cherokee beside him.
He made a face. “I had a night jump scheduled,” he said tersely. “I slept in this morning. You probably got up before the rooster again.”
Darcy sank wearily back against the seat. She held her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, I give up. You win. You’ve outmachoed me!”
Bill said nothing, but Darcy detected the hint of a smirk on his face in the murky parking lot light. His lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile.
She’d give him the benefit of the doubt, since he was trying. But, she wouldn’t let him get away with it for long. She had to live with the guy.
Starting to buckle her seat belt, Darcy paused. What had she been thinking? They were just sleeping under the same roof. That was all.
Her brain seemed to have gotten the concept loud and clear. Too bad her heart was still a little slow on the uptake.
* * *
THE HOUSE was dark when they arrived and testified to the haste with which Darcy and Momma had left. Bill strode through the small house, glancing around to be certain that no intruders had been there before he would let Darcy come inside.
They didn’t have a lot of crime in the Mattison community, but still, it never hurt to check.
He flicked on the light in Darcy’s bedroom and made a cursory check. Everything seemed in order. Bill shrugged. He guessed it was safe to let Darcy come in. He turned to go out to call her, but collided with her instead.
His breath caught in his throat and his pulse raced at the sudden, unexpected contact with warm, soft flesh. “What?” he muttered. “I thought I told you to wait in the car until I checked the house.” He took her by the shoulders and set her at arm’s length from him.
Darcy rolled her eyes, made a face, and stepped out of his grasp. “Bill, Billy, we’re in Mattison, not some crime-riddled inner city. Your Jeep is the only vehicle out there. Unless a sneak-thief hitchhiked, there’s no evidence that anybody’s here.” She stood there, her hands on her hips, and looked at him as if she had to explain in one-syllable words and ve
ry short sentences.
He should have thought of that. Bill didn’t have a response, so he said nothing, just stubbornly set his jaw and looked down at her.
How could such a diminutive woman turn his knees to Jell-O?
“Oh, get over it, Bill. It’s late and I’m tired.” Darcy tried to brush by him, but Bill caught her by the arm.
He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t dare. He let go of her arm.
“Good night, Darcy. And thank you again.” He turned to leave, but this time, Darcy grabbed his hand and drew him back. “What?”
“You’re a good man, Billy Hays,” she said simply, then she rose on her tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss against his lips.
Bill was too stunned to react, and by the time he could think again, she’d ducked under his arm and entered her room. He stood there in the open doorway, watching as she drew a nightgown out of a dresser drawer.
She must have realized he was still there, for she turned and smiled. “Good night, Bill,” was all she said, but that was enough. She put down the nightgown and crossed the room in several quick strides.
Bill swallowed and backed out of the doorway. “Good night, Darcy,” he said as she shut the door firmly between them. Then he turned and trudged to his room.
* * *
IN SPITE OF the late hour she’d gone to bed and the even later hour before she had finally succumbed to sleep, Darcy had gotten “up before the rooster” as Bill had so quaintly put it. She was by no means rested and not the least bit refreshed, but she couldn’t lie in bed when she knew Nettie was still in intensive care.
Doctor Williamson had told Darcy to take all the time she needed, so she didn’t have to worry about calling in to the doctor’s office. She headed for the shower and found evidence that Bill had been there before her. Funny, she hadn’t heard anyone stirring. Had she slept more soundly than she thought?
Last night had seemed like forever when she’d been waiting for Bill. Now that he was here, the day promised to be longer still.
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