by Laura Iding
Fourteen months, to be exact. And she’d spent three of them recovering from the injuries she’d sustained in the accident in which he’d died.
But nothing would ever heal her heart. Or ease her conscience.
The usual sympathy darkened his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.
Her stomach tightened painfully. She wanted to shout at him not to apologize. Why did everyone keep saying that? She was the reason Andrew was dead. She’d insisted on driving that night.
She didn’t want Simon’s sympathy.
Or anyone else’s.
“I feel sick,” she murmured, changing the subject as she put a hand over her abdomen. She wasn’t lying, she really did feel sick. Throwing up would only make a bad day even worse, so she fought the urge and drew an uneven breath. “Would you mind bringing me a few saltine crackers?”
Instantly, he rose to his feet. “Of course not. Stay put, I’ll find them.”
“Third cabinet on the right,” she murmured as Simon headed for the small kitchen. She took several shaky breaths. He rummaged around for a few minutes, and then returned with water and the promised crackers.
“You don’t have any white soda,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’ll run to the store and pick up a few things.”
“There’s no need,” she began, but he cut her off.
“Don’t argue. I’m going. It’s not like you can live on jail fare,” he said, gesturing to her water and crackers, “for the next few weeks.”
“Rach can pick up some things for me,” she pointed out stubbornly.
He didn’t even look at her or acknowledge her statement. He simply stuck her door keys in his pocket and walked back to the kitchen. From her position on the sofa, she could hear him opening and closing the cupboard doors and her fridge, muttering to himself. Good thing she couldn’t hear what he was saying, because it was no doubt something scathing, considering the bare state of her cabinets.
Old Mother Hubbard, went to the cupboard…
She wasn’t destitute, but she did tend to buy sparingly because she had to lug everything on her bike. Or walk, which was actually much harder. At least on the bike she could cover the distance more quickly.
But she wasn’t about to explain that to Simon.
After a good five minutes he returned, holding a list in his hand. A long list. “I’ll be back in a little while. Take a nap,” he suggested. “The best thing you can do right now is to rest.”
Before she could think of a response, he left her apartment, softly shutting the door behind him.
She scowled at the closed door.
Sure. Take a nap. She grimaced as she tried to move into a more comfortable position. Except she couldn’t find a more comfortable position.
Wearily she closed her eyes and did her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her leg. Why hadn’t she called Rachel for a ride to work that morning? What idiot rode a bike to work in a thunderstorm? Her ridiculous need to remain independent had cost her dearly.
Now she’d be dependent on others for help over the next who-knew-how-long. Two weeks for sure. Hopefully not longer. And as a new employee she didn’t have any sick time to cover the time she’d need off work.
Maybe once she had a walking cast on, she could manage to ride her bike. At least well enough to get to work and home. If the hospital would let her work with her walking cast on.
With a sigh she decided not to worry about that now. First she needed to get through the next two weeks.
Surprisingly, she must have dozed because she awoke to a more intense throbbing in her leg. And the mouth-watering scent of chicken noodle soup.
Dusk had fallen. Her living room faced west, so it was easy to see through the window that the sun had set. She estimated the time must be somewhere close to seven o’clock.
She stretched, working the kinks out of her neck. Had Simon left some soup for her? She propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over to reach for her crutches standing upright against the edge of the end table nearby.
“Hailey, you’re awake?” he asked, coming into the living room and startling her so badly she jerked like an epileptic and knocked the crutches to the floor with a crash.
“Cripes, don’t do that!” she admonished, clutching a hand to her hammering heart. “You scared me to death.”
“Sorry,” Simon said with a grimace. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t think you were sleeping very soundly because you kept muttering in your sleep.”
“I did?” She could feel her face flush. Talk about embarrassing. Although it could be worse. He could have told her she snored.
“Are you ready for more pain medication?” he asked. “It might be helpful to eat some soup first, so that your stomach doesn’t get upset.”
She wasn’t sure which need took higher priority—her mouth watering and stomach growling for the soup or the throbbing in her leg.
“Soup,” she finally decided, leaning over to pick up the fallen crutches from the floor. She narrowed her gaze when he swooped down to snatch the crutches before she could grab them. She sighed. “Look, Simon, I appreciate your help, but you don’t need to stick around any longer. I’ll be fine.”
He stood holding the crutches, and lifted a sardonic brow. “Don’t worry, I haven’t exactly moved in yet,” he said dryly, making her flush all over again. “Relax, all I did was pick up a few groceries and heat up some soup. Why don’t you let me bring it in on a tray, so you don’t have to get up?”
“Because soup would be easier to eat at the kitchen table. I’d prefer not to wear it.” Somehow, she knew that once she got up and moving, she’d prove to Simon once and for all she was fine. And then he would leave.
At least, in theory.
Because surely that crack about moving in was a joke.
Wasn’t it?
Yes, it was. She was losing her mind to think anything else. She gritted her teeth and swallowed a groan as she swung her leg over the edge of the sofa. Simon set the crutches aside and bent over to put his hands around her waist. Before she could squeak out a protest, he lifted her up on her good foot, supporting most of her weight.
She gripped his upper arms, momentarily distracted by the bulging muscles beneath her fingertips. His musky scent filled her head, making her dizzy.
Good heavens, she could stay here with him like this for the rest of the night without needing a single dose of pain medication.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” he murmured, his mouth dangerously close to her ear.
Ready? For what? To fall into his arms? To be swept down the hall to her bedroom?
“I’m—uh—ready,” she said breathlessly, forcing herself to concentrate. She needed to move away. And fast. “You can—uh—hand me the crutches now.”
For what seemed like endless moments neither one of them moved. She held her breath, waiting for what she had no idea, but every nerve in her body was tingling in awareness. The throbbing pain in her leg was nothing compared to the blood rushing through her system.
But then Simon moved one of the hands at her waist to bring over the crutches. He tucked one beneath her arm, and she reluctantly let go of his biceps to grasp the crutch. Then he handed her the second crutch.
When he was sure she was steady on her feet, he backed away. She kept her gaze on trained on the floor as she cautiously swung the crutches forward, moving slowly toward the kitchen.
There was an empty bowl on the table sitting beside the small bottle of pain medication and a fresh package of crackers. As she lowered herself into the chair, Simon filled her bowl from the steaming pot on the stove and set it back down in front of her.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked, when she took a sip of the soup.
She nearly scalded her tongue. “No, Simon, this is perfect. Just what I needed. Thanks. For driving me home, shopping and cooking for me.”
A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips. “You’re welcome.”
As much as she wan
ted him to leave, for her peace of mind more than anything, she gestured to the empty seat at the table beside her. “Please, join me. I’m sure you’re hungry, too.”
He moved as if to do just that, but then stopped abruptly. “Ah, no, thanks. I should probably get going. Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone? I could wait until you’ve finished eating if you think you need help getting settled for the night.”
This time she did scald her tongue and she took a sip of white soda to cool the burning. The thought of Simon anywhere near her bedroom made her break out into a cold sweat.
Not because she didn’t want him there.
Just the opposite.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, tearing her thoughts from that traitorous path. She was not going to wonder what it would be like to kiss Simon.
Not. Going. There.
“I’m not helpless, you know,” she said tartly. “I’m not the first person with a broken leg and I won’t be the last.”
She caught a glimpse of his grim expression before it vanished. “Okay, then. Here’s my cell phone number.” He slid a slip of paper across the table toward her with his number scrawled on it in his bold script. “I want you to promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”
“All right,” she agreed, knowing she wouldn’t. If she’d call anyone it would be Rachel. Not Simon.
No matter how tempting.
“Thanks again, Simon.” She took another sip of her soup, hoping he’d take the hint.
He did. “Goodnight, Hailey.” He stared at her for several long seconds before turning on his heel and walking toward the door.
She held her breath until he shut the apartment door quietly behind him.
Letting out a ragged sigh, she dropped her spoon and buried her face in her hands.
And fought the overwhelming urge to call him back.
Simon left Hailey’s apartment, calling himself every kind of fool.
Hailey would be fine. He was being a total idiot for overreacting like this. She would be absolutely fine.
A broken leg wasn’t the end of the world. Logically, he knew that.
But he couldn’t help feeling responsible. It was his fault she was laid up for the next two weeks at least.
He didn’t need to keep checking on her. Unless she called. Which he knew she wouldn’t.
Hailey was perfectly able to take care of herself.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ducked his head against the drizzle and walked out to his car. As he headed home, the thought of sitting around in his empty house made him restless. Normally he yearned for some quiet time. He’d just bought a new book but tonight the idea of losing himself in a great story did not hold any appeal. In fact, he didn’t want to go home.
He’d wanted to stay with Hailey.
Not an option, he reminded himself harshly. Then what? Call Jadon? Or Quinn? Nah, both men had families of their own.
Executing a safe and legal U-turn, he turned the car around to head back toward Cedar Bluff hospital.
“What are you doing here?” Seth asked, seemingly exasperated when he strolled in. “Hell, Simon, I’m here covering you so you can have the night off.”
“I know, but things have changed.” Simon forced a smile. “I’m here to finish my shift, so you can go back home to your pretty pregnant wife and son.”
“I don’t think so,” Seth argued lightly. “For one thing, you don’t look as if you’ve really recovered from hitting Hailey. Not that I blame you, that had to be horrible. But honestly? I could really use the money as I missed that shift the other day. Kylie really wants to move into a newer and bigger house before the baby is born. We’re scraping up some money for a decent down payment.”
Damn. The one argument he couldn’t fight. He’d never take a needed shift away from a colleague, much less a friend.
Seth could finish off the shift if he wanted to.
But Simon still didn’t want to go home to his empty house. He glanced around, almost desperate for something to keep his mind occupied. With a frown, he noticed the census board wasn’t overly filled with patients. “I could still help out—if things are crazy. Free of charge,” he added hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.
“Nope,” Seth said cheerfully. “No worries, we have everything under control. Seriously, man, it’s just not that busy.”
It figured. Monday nights were generally one of the quietest days of the week.
“How’s Hailey?” Seth asked with a keen glance.
Simon wasn’t fooled by his friend’s deceptively casual tone. The last thing he or Hailey needed was for rumors to start flying. And considering how he’d held her hand during her examination in the trauma bay, he figured the rumors were already brewing. “Fine, considering I slammed into her with my car and nearly killed her.”
Seth arched a brow. “I don’t think a broken leg qualifies as nearly killing her. But, hey, glad to hear she’s doing all right.”
“Yeah, well, she made it pretty clear she wanted me gone, so I don’t think she shares your view of the accident,” Simon countered.
But Seth only grinned. “And that’s bugging the hell out of you, isn’t it?”
Simon was about to tell him to shut the hell up when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that the new unit clerk, Mary something or other, was blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation. Her eyes, dramatically green from colored contacts, shifted under his gaze and she turned away.
He grimaced. Great. More fuel for the gossip mill. He loved living in Cedar Bluff, but compared to the blissful anonymity he’d experienced in Chicago, living in this place was like living in a bubble where everyone stuck their noses into everyone else’s business.
Which normally wasn’t a problem for him. People in Cedar Bluff usually left him alone, because obviously he’d never given them anything to talk about.
Until now.
“Hardly,” he said, narrowing his gaze on Seth, silently warning him to drop it. “And if you don’t need my help, fine. I have some paperwork to finish in my office, anyway. There are several quality cases that need to be reviewed.”
“You’re hopeless, my friend. Truly hopeless,” Seth muttered, shaking his head in mock dismay. “What a lame way to spend your night off.”
Simon ignored him. Seth couldn’t know that tossing and turning in his bed, thinking of Hailey, would be far worse than any torture imaginable. “If you get slammed with patients, let me know.”
“Sure,” Seth said, glancing down as his trauma pager began to vibrate. “No worries.”
Simon did his best to concentrate on the cases he needed to review, but after reading the same case three times without comprehension he shoved it away with a disgusted sigh.
Seth was right. He was truly hopeless.
He shut off his computer and stood. When he dug in his pocket for his car keys, he realized he still had Hailey’s apartment keys.
For a long agonizing moment he wondered if he’d subconsciously kept them on purpose.
Because now he had a good excuse to see Hailey again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE next morning Hailey crutch-walked the short distance from her bed to the bathroom, groaning under her breath with each clunky step.
Every muscle in her body was sore. Muscles she hadn’t known she possessed hurt. But the good news was that her leg didn’t throb as badly as it had yesterday.
From here on, she’d probably start feeling better each day.
It took her much longer than normal to get showered and dressed, especially as her cast had to be wrapped with plastic for the shower, and then afterward the bulky covering didn’t fit into the pants leg of her jeans. She had to rip out the side seam out of an old pair of sweats, topped with an equally ragged T-shirt, so she wouldn’t have to walk around in her underwear.
She ate a bowl of cereal for breakfast and then cradled a mug of coffee in her hands, the day looming endlessly before her. Often she’d wis
hed for a few days off to get caught up on errands and such, but not like this. Not wearing a cast that prevented her from doing anything.
The scrap of paper with Simon’s number was still sitting on the kitchen table, mocking her. Last night she’d actually tossed the note into the garbage, but had then changed her mind and dug it back out again, smoothing out the crumpled edges.
Stupid, because she didn’t plan on calling him.
But it had been sweet of him to leave it for her. In fact, Simon had been wonderful, in many ways.
She gave herself a mental shake. There was no point reading anything but basic kindness in his motives for helping her. She knew that even though she’d taken the blame for what had happened, he still felt responsible.
Simon was honorable that way. And maybe a bit stubborn.
Just because she found him devastatingly attractive, it didn’t mean he felt even remotely the same way about her.
And even if he did, they were colleagues. Maybe even friends. Nothing more.
Anxious for something to do, she headed for her bedroom and the looming pile of laundry waiting for her there. Of course, if she’d known she was going to break her leg, she would have made sure her laundry was caught up.
Where was that crystal ball when you needed it?
She had to leave her mug of coffee on the kitchen table as she couldn’t crutch-walk and carry it at the same time. Neither could she carry her laundry basket.
Muttering a naughty word under her breath, she used her crutches to shove the laundry basket piled high with dirty clothes across the carpeting and down the hall, until she reached the kitchen.
Doing the laundry would take her twice as long on crutches, but it wasn’t like she had other burning plans anyway. Watching television was sure to get boring. Maybe Rachel would stop at the local video store to pick her up some movies to watch.
While seated on the kitchen chair, she split her laundry into two loads, and then went back to the hallway closet to get the bottle of laundry soap, dangling it from her two fingers while manipulating the crutches. Thank heavens her apartment was small.
