by Lynn Cahoon
Jose stared at the list. “What do I do about the missing delivery?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Maggie check into that. We just need to make sure we have wine to pour at the event. Maggie is handling the booth so she’ll deal with staffing and tying up the loose ends. She’s probably already in Spokane and that’s why you couldn’t reach her.”
“Okay, I will do this.” Jose held up the list. “And I am sorry if you are in pain due to my actions.”
“He isn’t in pain because of you. He’s in pain because of his own stupid choices.” Destiny stood in the doorway. She looked pissed. “Ten minutes are up. I hope you got done what you needed to because Jose has to leave now.”
Anger flashed in his brain, but before Brad could respond, the pain killer dulled the sensation. He watched as Jose left the room and then he looked at the woman who was running his life with an iron fist. “You didn’t have to be rude.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? You thought I was rude? You tried to ride in a truck where you would have had to leave the door open to let your leg hang out because you wouldn’t fit any other way. And then, you jarred your back. You realize that one of the reasons you are on bedrest is to help the bruise on your spine heal so that you can walk again.”
He wanted to respond but more importantly, he wanted to sleep. And sleep won out.
Doctor Roberts arrived a few hours later at the same time that Maggie’s delivery boy came with lunch. He sniffed the air. “Smells like lasagna. I do love Maggie’s food.”
“You can stay for lunch. They always send too much food.” Destiny held the door open and then took the bags from the young kid. “Thank you.”
He grinned and barely tilted his head in acknowledgement. Then he jogged back to the sub compact he’d arrived in twice a day since she’d arrived.
Destiny nodded toward the retreating kid. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s consistent and has a great smile.”
“That’s Tom Martin’s kid, Kyle. He’s a junior this year over at the high school. Pretty good linebacker. It might just get him a scholarship.” The doctor wandered into the foyer. “Before I go in and see our boy, I wanted to tell you how sad I was that you weren’t able to make a go of your business here. I should have been referring people to you all along. I know there’s a lot of clients who could use your service, but people are stubborn.”
“Well, I may be able to stay in the area, at least.” She told him about the meeting she’d had that week and the new office opening in Spokane. “Wrong time, wrong location. No matter which one it was, it just means I’ll be moving on.”
“We will miss you.” He nodded to the doorway to the den and Brad’s makeshift bedroom. “So he tried to escape.”
“You could say that.” She smiled. Brad would definitely say it that way.
“The boy has always been a handful.” He walked toward the door. “You go eat. I’ll handle him for a while.”
“Should I dish you up a plate?”
The doctor shook his head. “Thank you, but I have no time. I’ve got patients waiting for me at the office.”
Destiny carried the food into the kitchen, wondering if she should join the men in Brad’s room. But Doctor Roberts had clearly wanted to be alone with Brad, probably in order to read him the riot act about not moving around so much. She pulled the dishes out of the bags and opened one of the containers. Baked pasta with a red sauce, a green salad, garlic bread, and a half gallon of ice cream for dessert. Maggie intended on fattening her brother up during his recuperation. The only problem was it would probably be Destiny who put on a few pounds. She dished out her lunch, then put the hot foods in the microwave to keep them warm. The oven was available, but she found that the microwave, due to its smaller size, kept the food warmer. She poured herself a glass of iced tea and sat, evaluating the morning. Ten more minutes and Brad would have been gone, stuck in the truck like some oversize piece of lumber. What had he been thinking?
She could have lost her job today. She didn’t know what idea made her more anxious. Losing the one paying gig she had for the next few weeks would have caused her to have to close down the PT shop early. Doing that would put Jonny out of work a month early. On the other hand, Brad could have really been hurt if he’d fallen the entire way to the ground. And that would have been on her watch. She’d have to set some kind of alarm system to alert her when he got out of bed.
Or maybe she’d just have to sleep on the couch outside his room. That way, he couldn’t sneak by her. Not again. Of course, it also meant she could never be in the kitchen, the bathroom, or anywhere out of sight of Brad’s room.
On the other hand, she knew how hard it was to leave the business you’d grown from nothing. It must be killing him to let someone else make the decisions, pull the strings, and ultimately run his company.
She took a bite and almost groaned at the taste. Having Maggie deliver food from the restaurant for lunch was the one and only perk of the job. There was no way she’d list working with Brad as a perk. Even if the guy was not too shabby in the looks department. Jonny would want the full report when they talked, but Destiny couldn’t see herself telling anyone about the impromptu shower last night. At least not until the idea of seeing Brad Castle naked except for the black trash bags didn’t make her blush or laugh. And right now, every time she remembered last night, that was all she wanted to do.
Right now, she needed to eat while she waited for the doctor’s report. She prayed that Brad’s healing hadn’t been set back. He wouldn’t survive much longer stuck in his bed. The guy had a strong need to be up and doing something. Anything.
Which was another reason Destiny had to get him well. It was for both their sakes.
CHAPTER 8
“I’m sending over a portable x-ray machine but from what I can see, your back is healing nicely. I wouldn’t have expected this much range of motion without pain. Especially with the fall you just took.” The doctor sank into what Brad thought of as Destiny’s chair. Damn, he needed to get better so he could get this woman out of his house and his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate a beautiful woman paying attention to his every need; he just wanted to be more in control of his own actions while she did. Control. He hadn’t been in control of anything since the accident and he needed to change that up fast.
The doctor was watching Brad so he pretended that he hadn’t been distracted by thoughts of Destiny. “So you think I’ll be able to go back to work soon?”
“You’re still going to be out the six weeks, but depending on the results of this s-ray, I might allow more time out of bed.” He nodded to the chart. “Destiny has done a great job keeping your muscles flexible. I don’t think you’ll see a loss of strength at least in your upper body. You will have to do PT for a while once we get you weight-bearing again.”
“I have a winery to run. I can’t be taking off for an exercise class every day,” Brad groused. “How long will I be required to do that?”
“We’ll make that decision after I see the x-rays.” The doctor stood to leave. “All in all, I’m impressed with your healing. You must be doing something right. Unless you hear different from me tomorrow, I’m going to release you to be able to sit in your wheelchair for up to four hours a day. If you get sore or tired, reduce the time.”
“So I could go back to work half days?” Brad tamped down the hope easing through his words.
Roberts shook his head. “Nope. You’re off for another four weeks. But you could leave the house for a short visit to your mom or maybe that big cat exhibit. My grandson makes us take him every time he comes up from Boise. He especially loves those sisters.”
Great, he could visit the mangy cats. Abbie would love seeing him there, groveling for something to do, anything to distract him. “We’ll see.”
Brad watched as the doctor left his room but instead of turning left toward the front door, he turned right toward the kitchen. And Destiny. She’d probably get the same set of in
structions, so he couldn’t fudge the rules. Well, he didn’t care. It was his body; he could do what he wanted. He could almost hear his mom’s tsk at that statement. If she were here, she’d tell him to follow doctor’s orders. And he might. At least for today.
He put the bed upward and then gently swung his legs over the side. The wheelchair was parked next to the bed, the brakes unlocked. He swung it closer, then used a bar he’d used during his exercise session to set the brakes. Turning a bit, he used the bed to support his weight like he had used Destiny. If he could get out of bed with the doctor’s permission, that was what he was going to do.
He found Destiny sitting at the table, finishing her lunch. She jerked when she saw him, then smiled. “I should have known you’d be up as soon as the doctor said it was possible.”
“I don’t lounge around in bed when I’m healthy, why should I now?” He pointed to her plate. “You got any more of that?”
“Tons. I was waiting until after the doctor left. You want lunch here or in the dining room?” She stood and moved a chair so he could get closer to the table.
He wheeled to the cabinet and got out a fork. “I’ll eat in here with you.” He nodded to the oven. “Can you dish me up some?”
“Sure.” She grabbed a bowl, filled it with the still-warm pasta and set a bottle of soda next to his place along with a couple of breadsticks and a green salad with ranch dressing on the side. They made a good pair, he thought as he wheeled back to the table.
She sat and pulled apart a bread stick. “I wish I knew how to cook.”
“You mean bake. Bread sticks are baked.” He took a big bite of the pasta. As usual, with any of Maggie’s dishes, this was amazing.
“No, I mean cook. I can’t make anything, bread or not.” She dipped the stick into the marinara and as she took the appetizer into her mouth, Brad almost choked on the bite of pasta he’d just taken. She wiped a drop of the red sauce off her lips when she’d finished. “I adore bread.”
His mind dipped into the gutter. And his body was racing along with it. He needed to change the subject. “You can make spaghetti, right? Anyone can boil water.”
“Geez, thanks for making me feel totally incompetent.” She didn’t look at him, but instead stood to put her bowl in the sink and run water into it. “But no. I can’t cook. I can’t bake. I can make sandwiches, but I’ve never gone past buying deli lunch meat or premade tuna salad.”
“Didn’t your mom teach you this?”
Sandy Castle had made it clear to all her children that they would be able to cook at least something they could live on before they left for college. When Maggie started excelling in the kitchen, Brad paid her to handle his dinner chores once a month. Two weeks in to the arrangement, his mom had gotten wise and busted the contract. But he had learned to make a mean spaghetti junior year. And by the time he’d moved out on his own, he’d enjoyed cooking for himself, especially using higher end product that now filled his cupboards, just waiting for him to cook again.
“My mom worked two jobs. We did a lot of TV dinners and macaroni and cheese with a can of tuna dumped inside. I’m pretty sure that’s not the correct way to make tuna casserole but honestly I have no idea what else I could do.” She moved the brownies onto a plate and set them on the table in front of Brad. “Unless you want a sandwich.”
Brad had an idea. One that would keep him from being bored out of his mind. He waved his fork. “Tonight, you’re learning how to pan-sear scallops. We’ll still order our sides from Maggie, but I’ll have her send up stuff so we can make a salad and the scallops.” He grinned. “By the time you leave this house, you’ll be a strong cook. Or at least, you’ll be able to make more than boxed dinners.”
“I don’t know, maybe you’ll not be feeling well enough to show me what to do. Then you’ll be stuck with sides only.” She frowned, and the lines on her forehead crinkled. “That won’t be healthy. Maybe we should just let Maggie deal with the food part.”
“If I let you burn the scallops, I’ll dump a can of tuna into my mashed potatoes for protein. No harm, no foul.” He pointed a fork at her. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken.”
“I’m not scared. I just think—”
He interrupted her with a few bock – bock – bock sounds. “You’re chicken. I dare you. Heck, I double dare you.”
“You don’t have to dare me. If you want to ignore the fact we have access to the best restaurant north of Boise for what you think I can cook, You deserve what you get tonight.”
“You’ll be fine.” He dug into the pasta. This would be fun. He could feel it. Besides, it would give him something to think about instead of just watching that damn television. He was beginning to look forward to the faked conflict on the talk shows, even when the subject was my father read a secret murder plot in my ten-year old’s thank you note. People were weird.
He dug into the last of his lunch, feeling happier than he had in weeks. He could deal with all of this for a month. Then he’d be back to normal and back to his real life. He glanced over at the woman sitting next to him at the table who seemed to be brooding over her own plate. Yes, Destiny Brooks needed to be gone and out of here sooner than later.
Most definitely before he decided he really needed her.
***
Destiny called the restaurant and was put on hold while they went to find Maggie. When she finally answered the phone, she was out of breath.
“Sorry, we had a staff meeting I had to finish before I could leave.” Destiny heard the pop of a soda can being opened. “What’s up?”
“Brad wants to teach me to cook scallops and make a salad. I don’t think it’s a great idea, so if you tell me you can’t send up the raw ingredients, I’ll just tell him it was a no go.” Destiny held her breath. For the first time since Brad had announced at lunch that he was going to teach her how to cook, she had an ounce of hope that maybe the lesson might be postponed. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to learn; she just knew there was no way she could pull off something so technical as scallops. And a salad? She’d probably chop off one of her fingers, then Sandy would have to replace her, and the money she’d been counting on to close up the business would disappear.
“That’s a great idea.” Maggie bubbled over the phone. “It will keep him busy. Are you sure you can’t cook? Maybe this is all just a ploy to get my grumpy brother up and out of that bed and his depression.”
Any hope of getting out of this lesson vanished with Maggie’s excitement. “Nope, it’s true. I can’t cook. So if you get an emergency order for pizza or something quick later tonight, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“We’ll send up a quart of soup and some French bread just in case. I think we have chicken tortellini soup on the menu.” Maggie paused. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine cooking. Brad actually isn’t bad in the kitchen. Mark was more of a griller, but Brad liked the more complicated savory dishes. I just loved baking desserts. I guess we all have our strengths in the kitchen.”
“Well, my strength is opening boxes of cereal and pouring the milk. This is going to be a disaster, I know it.” Destiny looked around the shiny kitchen that had seemed so welcoming that morning. Now the kitchen reminded her of the college classrooms where she’d taken her final exams each semester. But the difference was this time, she hadn’t even cracked a book.
“Relax, you’re in great hands with Brad teaching you. Just don’t let him bully you. Make him go slow and tell him you don’t know the basics. That way, he has to walk you through the entire process. You’ll love cooking with his pans. He bought top of the line when he stocked his kitchen.”
Destiny heard the voices in the background. “I know you’re busy.”
“Just a few pre-dinner issues, but yeah, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow night for the card party. Or are you taking advantage of our presence and heading out for some private time? I wouldn’t blame you if you did. You’ve already been cooped up for weeks with my brother. I bet you need a n
ight off.”
Maggie didn’t wait for an answer to her question, which was good since Destiny didn’t have one. She hung up the cell and thought about tomorrow night. Jonny had gone to Boise on a shopping trip with friends this weekend. She’d called this morning asking if Destiny needed something from the big city. Or at least the biggest city in Idaho. If Destiny did leave, she’d go into St. Joseph’s, eat dinner, and watch whatever movie was playing at the small theater. Or she could just spend the evening with a good book in her room. A long hot bath, Maggie’s cooking for dinner, and maybe even a glass of wine. Now that sounded like a night off.
She’d pull the next book in the Wheel of Time series from Brad’s library the next time she was in his room and set it aside on the couch in her room. With that decision made, she glanced at the clock. She had thirty minutes before she had to go in and remove the laptop from Brad’s room so he’d stop working and rest. Time enough to do her own homework – she needed to research Landue Health Care and its young and handsome CEO, Martin. Even if he didn’t offer her the management job, the Spokane site may be an option for future opportunities.
She looked out the kitchen window into the heavily wooded forest that started just behind the house. Spokane was nice, but St. Joseph’s was heaven. A heaven she might just have to keep in her memories after next month.
“No use crying over something you can’t have.” Destiny uttered one of her mom’s favorite sayings. That and a pig didn’t dream of being a racehorse. Of course, she’d never understood why pigs wouldn’t dream, but she hadn’t questioned her mom’s sayings. The woman worked hard and the little time she had to spend with Destiny had been precious for both of them.
Turning away from the scenery, she opened her laptop and started an internet search.
Thirty-five minutes later, she logged off the computer. Martin Landue had started his company ten years ago and from what she’d been able to find, had grown it from one site to the interstate regional coverage, boasting over 50 different centers with five in development, including the one in Spokane. The man spoke at national health conferences, and seemed to believe in home-based therapy and care. Or at least that was what his website proclaimed. But as Destiny knew, saying something and actually putting it into practice were sometimes two different things.
