by Laura Iding
She closed her eyes, pushing away the ridiculous thought as the machine whirled and the table began to slowly move her through the opening. First they took pictures of her head and then of her chest and abdomen. Overall the entire process took a good twenty minutes, and she fully expected Simon would be gone once the scan was finished.
But he surprised her by staying. Hovering at her side again, as the staff slid her back onto the gurney.
No doubt he’d stuck around out of guilt. And because she’d clung to him like a limpet. She was such a wimp.
“We need the radiologist to review the scans for the official read,” Simon informed her. “But I didn’t see anything major. No bleeding in your head, chest or abdomen.”
She forced a smile. “Good. See? I told you I was fine.”
He scowled, but didn’t say anything else as the two transporters took her back to the emergency department. Based on the nature of her seemingly minor injuries, they took her into one of the rooms in the arena, rather than back to the trauma room. Simon took a few minutes to make a phone call out in the hall, before following her into the room.
“Thanks for staying, Simon,” she said finally. “But you must have much better things to do than to hang around here. I’m sure you’re probably working tonight.” Actually, she knew he was working second shift because she’d checked the schedule before going home last evening.
But how could she tell Simon she’d been preoccupied with thoughts of working with him again, when she should have been paying attention to her surroundings on the slick roads?
Guilt threatened to choke her again. She really needed to learn to concentrate while traveling.
“I was scheduled to work but Jadon is going to stick around for a couple of hours until Seth can get here to cover my shift.”
For long moments she stared at him. Was he still feeling guilty about hitting her? “I told you, I’m fine, Simon. I don’t want you to rearrange your schedule just for me.”
“Trust me, I’m doing this for myself as much as I’m doing it for you,” he corrected in a low voice. He pushed his fingers through his hair. “It’s not every day I hit a cyclist.”
She suppressed another sigh. “You’re going to make me feel bad if you keep up that attitude,” she warned. “I highly doubt you were expecting to find anyone riding in the storm in the first place, right?”
She saw the flash of acknowledgment in his gaze before a knock at her door interrupted them. An older gentleman poked his head inside the door. “Hello. May I come in?”
“Sure.” She stared at him, thinking he looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite remember his name.
“I’m Dr. Maxwell,” he said kindly, coming inside and dragging a plaster cart behind him. He reached over to take her hand. “I’m here to examine and cast your right leg.”
Oh, yes, Dr. Maxwell was the orthopedic surgeon, she remembered now. Simon eased back, obviously willing to give her some privacy. “I’ll check back with you in a little while,” he assured her.
“Thanks,” she murmured. There was no need for Simon to check back with her, but she suspected nothing she could say was going to convince him of that.
Guilt. Wasn’t she all too familiar with the emotion?
“So I hear you had a run-in with a car?” The older doctor gently smoothed his hands over her right leg and she couldn’t hide a wince. “Luckily for you, this is a clean fracture and shouldn’t put you out of commission for too long.”
She bit her lip anxiously, mentally calculating how much money she had in her savings account. Not nearly enough to be off work for any length of time. She needed to talk to her boss, Theresa, as soon as possible. “How long?” she asked, bracing herself for the news.
“Well, I’d like you to stay off it completely for two weeks. You’ll need to follow up with me in the clinic and if the bone is healing well, we should be able to switch over to a walking cast.”
Two weeks? She tried not to let her dismay show. Two weeks would seem like for ever, sitting around at home. There was no way in the world she was going to be able to ride her bike with a cast. “But I can get around on crutches, right?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her. “We’re going to put a cast on this leg, from your knee down to your foot.” He turned toward the cart and pulled out a stocking. “How are you doing as far as pain medication?”
“I’m fine,” she said, lying through her teeth. She wasn’t exactly fine, but she didn’t want to take anything that would make her groggy. Or loopy. She was afraid the flashbacks would return.
Besides, narcotics made her itch.
The orthopedic doctor chatted while he applied the cast, probably trying to divert her attention from the task at hand. The pain quadrupled when he lifted her leg off the bed to wrap the wet cast material around it. She gritted her teeth, feeling faint as waves of pain washed over her.
She was immensely relieved when he gently eased her leg back down on the pillow. He checked the circulation in her toes and the pulse behind her knee one last time before declaring he was finished.
“Remember, come back to see me in two weeks, sooner if you’re having any problems, all right?”
“I won’t forget,” she promised weakly, wiping the sheen of perspiration from her upper lip. Maybe she’d have to break down and take some pain medication after all, because the throbbing had only become horrendously worse instead of better.
Dr. Maxwell left and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply in an effort to get a grip on the pain.
“Hailey!” Her eyes flew open at the sound of her name. Rachel rushed into the room, with Simon following behind her. “My God, Hailey, what happened?”
“I ran into Simon on my bike,” she said quickly pre-empting his response. “I couldn’t see a thing. My goggles were totally fogged up.”
“You rode to work in a thunderstorm?” Rachel said, her tone rising incredulously. “A car crash was the least of your worries. What if you’d been struck by lightning? Why on earth didn’t you call me? I would have driven you to work even on my day off.”
In hindsight, that would have been a smarter thing to do. But she’d already dodged Rachel’s questions regarding her decision to ride her bike everywhere. She hadn’t wanted to outright lie to her friend.
She’d come to Cedar Bluff to forget the past. Not be reminded of it on a daily basis. Yet here she was, reliving it anyway.
“I should have called,” she acknowledged, glancing at Simon. “See? This really was my fault. Even Rachel thinks I’m stupid.”
“Why were you riding your bike in the thunderstorm?” Simon asked, his intense gaze unwavering. “Did your car break down?”
She hesitated, not sure how to answer that one. But she needn’t have worried.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Car? What car? Hailey doesn’t own a car. She rides everywhere on that bike of hers. And I mean everywhere!”
Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Hailey didn’t own a car? Because she couldn’t afford one? Had to be. He couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting the ease of car transportation.
“Thanks for blabbing, Rach,” Hailey muttered.
Simon lifted a brow, but let the comment go. “I’ll drive you home,” he announced.
Hailey’s eyes widened. “That’s not necessary,” she started to say.
But Rachel cut her off. “Yes, it is necessary. I’m covering your shift, so I can’t drive you home. And I don’t care what you say, there’s no way on earth you’re going to be able to crutch-walk three miles to your apartment.”
Simon bit back a curse at the image. What was wrong with her? Why was Hailey being so stubborn? “I’m driving you home,” he said again, in a steely tone that left no room for argument.
Rachel flashed an odd glance at him, but then nodded. “Good. So that’s settled.” She turned back to Hailey. “I have to go take care of my patients, but call me later, okay?”
“Okay,” Hailey agreed, resigned acceptance in he
r tone.
When Rachel left, a heavy silence hung over the room. Simon scrubbed his hand over his jaw, searching for something to say.
She shifted her weight on the cart, sucking in a quick breath when she moved her right leg. Her face was whiter than the hospital bed sheets and when he looked closely, he saw a faint sheen of sweat covering her brow.
“Have you taken anything for the pain?” he asked. She looked awful. Worse than awful.
“No.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth in a habit he shouldn’t have found endearing but did. “I was thinking of asking for some ibuprofen but I don’t want to take it on an empty stomach.”
Ibuprofen? For a broken leg? “Do you have something against narcotics?” he asked warily.
She gave a small shrug. “They make me itch.”
Since itching could be an early sign of an allergic reaction, he sighed and nodded. “Okay, there is non-narcotic pain medication too, you know. I’ll talk to Jadon, see what he’s ordered.”
“I’d really rather wait until I get home,” she said, when he moved toward the door.
“Getting in and out of a car and then from the car into your apartment is going to hurt,” he told her bluntly. “I suggest you have something now.”
He took it as a good sign that she didn’t argue. Taking control of the situation, Simon arranged for her to get a dose of the medication now and a prescription filled by the outpatient pharmacy here at the hospital. Jadon was happy to write her discharge orders after getting the official all-clear on her CT scans from the radiologist.
Simon still couldn’t believe Hailey didn’t own a car, but didn’t ask about it as he pushed her wheelchair out to the ED surface parking lot, where the towing company had left his vehicle. The tow-truck operator had told him there wasn’t a scratch on his car. That made him feel even more guilty.
Of course Hailey and her bike had sustained the brunt of the damage.
The torrential rain had tapered off to an annoying drizzle. Hailey was wearing a pair of scrubs Rachel had dug out of her locker and a borrowed windbreaker to help keep her warm.
After setting the brakes on the wheelchair, he went over to open the passenger door. Hailey didn’t wait for his help, though. She pushed herself up on her good leg, balancing precariously as she reached around for her crutches.
He muttered an oath under his breath and tucked his arm around her waist. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Don’t worry about the crutches for now. All you need to do is to pivot around and I’ll get you into the car.”
Her breath was warm and moist against his neck as he held her close, supporting the bulk of her weight so she wouldn’t have to do anything.
Hailey reached up to wrap her arm more firmly around his shoulder, bringing her body even closer to his. He could feel every sensual curve pressed against him, and he froze, alarm bells clamoring in the back of his mind.
Holding her close like this felt good. Sinfully good. For a moment he was tempted to breathe deeply, basking in her fresh scent.
He yanked his mind away from that train of thought. Hailey would not appreciate knowing he was thinking along these lines when she was in terrible pain from a broken leg he’d caused, no matter what she’d claimed about who had been to blame.
Grimly, he concentrated on the task at hand. Somehow he managed to swing her around so that she was close to the passenger door. He ignored his physical response to her nearness, tucking one hand behind her thigh to support her casted leg and the other around her shoulders as she lowered herself into the passenger seat.
“Thanks, I have it now,” she murmured breathlessly. He could see she was breathing rapidly, as if she’d run a marathon instead of simply getting settled in the car. The way she avoided his gaze made him think she was embarrassed.
Hell, if anyone should be embarrassed, it should be him. For thinking with the lower part of his anatomy instead of his brain. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the hard way?
He tucked the crutches into the backseat. After closing the door, he walked around to the driver’s side, momentarily turning his face up to the rain, welcoming the coolness.
He needed to stay in control. No matter how his body managed to betray him, he would not act on his feelings.
Not now.
Not ever.
As he slid behind the wheel and started the car, Simon did his best to think of Hailey as a patient. She’d latched her seat belt, he saw with approval, but had leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as he backed out of the parking space. He knew she had the prescription bottle of non-narcotic pain pills tucked in the pocket of her windbreaker.
“Fine,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed.
He could appreciate how exhausted she must be, but he needed to know where to go. “Hailey? What street do you live on?”
She turned her head and cracked one eye open to look at him. “The Rose Glen apartment building, off Howard.”
“Got it,” he said, turning right to head in that direction.
Hailey didn’t move, but her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, so he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
No, not sleeping. More likely, she was fighting the pain. It would take a while for the full effect of the pain medication to work.
He pulled into the parking lot behind the apartment complex, somewhat relieved to notice it was only a two-story building. He was willing to wager, however, that Hailey lived on the second floor.
“I can do it,” she said testily, but in the end she needed his arm to help her get out of the car. He reached for the crutches, offering them to her once she was standing.
“Which apartment?” he asked, pulling her backpack out of the backseat, where Mike, the helpful paramedic, had left it.
“Two-eleven,” she answered, confirming his suspicions she was on the second floor. She swung her crutches forward and took a slow step forward. He stood right beside her, hating how her face went pale as she made her way slowly toward the apartment door.
He was sweating more than she was, just from watching her struggle. Ten times over he had to stop himself from just scooping her into his arms and carrying her in.
“Keys in the front pocket of my backpack,” she said in a strained voice as she came to a halt in front of the main apartment door.
He found the keys, opened the lock and then held the door open for her. Thank God there was an elevator, so he wouldn’t have to helplessly watch her attempt to maneuver the stairs.
When they reached her apartment door, he unlocked and opened it, holding it for her. She went inside, pausing in the tiny foyer.
“Thanks for the ride. I can take it from here,” she said calmly, drumming up the most pathetic excuse for a smile.
Like hell she could. He ignored her, coming inside and closing the door firmly behind them. As he looked around at the inexpensive but neat furniture in the apartment, he asked, “How much food do you have?” Walking further into the room, he looped the strap of the backpack over the edge of a chair. How she managed to go grocery shopping on a bicycle was beyond him. “I’ll run out and get you whatever you need.”
Hailey eased herself onto the sofa with a low groan. He crossed over, helping her to lift her leg onto a pillow, elevating it. “I’m not sure,” she said tiredly. “There’s probably not much in the cupboards. I was planning to go shopping tomorrow.
She was clearly losing steam, not that he could blame her. He reached into her coat pocket and took out the pain pills. “You might need to take another one,” he suggested, settling beside her on the sofa. “You can take two of them every four hours, as needed, and you only took one.”
“Because it was a big horse pill,” she muttered. But when he opened the bottle she held out her hand and took the tablet. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and brought it back to her. She downed the second pain pill without hesitation.
He figured she’d be out like a light as s
oon as the second pill was absorbed into her system. And while she was sleeping, he’d take inventory to find out what she needed food-wise so he could shop for her.
But before that there was one question that had been burning in the back of his mind ever since the moment he’d tended to her at the side of the road. Maybe it wasn’t completely fair to ask her now, when she was so clearly not herself, but he needed to know.
“Hailey?” When he sat beside her on the sofa, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he asked, “Who’s Andrew?”
CHAPTER SIX
IN A heartbeat Hailey’s exhaustion vanished. Every muscle in her body went tense, as she stared at Simon in stunned surprise.
How on earth had he known about Andrew?
Her flashback, she realized slowly. She must have said something to him during the moments at the side of the road when she’d been gripped in the horror of the past. She’d seen Andrew’s face so clearly.
His pale, lifeless face. Streaked with blood.
Quickly she blocked the memory. No, don’t go there. She needed to stay focused on the present.
But how to respond? Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Simon. Not after everything he’d done for her. Without his steadying presence, at the scene of the accident and in the emergency department, she knew the nightmares would have sucked her down into the whirling vortex of blackness that had characterized the last fourteen months.
She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice from betraying her by trembling. “My fiancé.”
Simon’s eyes widened and she noticed he glanced at her ringless finger. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked in a rush. “I didn’t know you were engaged. We need to call Andrew to let him know you’re all right.”
She fought the urge to close her eyes and bury her face in the pillow, avoiding the painful subject. But she’d learned the hard way that hiding your head in the sand didn’t make things go away. Simon wouldn’t let her off the hook that easily. “No. I meant he was my fiancé. Andrew—he died a little over a year ago.”
