When she was healed, on the inside, as well as from her injuries, he would let her go. She would walk away stronger because of him, and maybe then he would be left in peace.
*
Cathy was awake early the next morning. She managed to get to the bathroom and back, although the short trip took about twenty minutes.
“I wish I’d studied dance or something,” she muttered as she sat down on the bed and tried to catch her breath. “Or even a beginning class in 101 ways to use crutches.”
She was many things, but she’d never been graceful or even athletic. The crutches hurt her arms and shoulders, and she still didn’t have the hang of them. If she tried anything complex, like stairs or even a long hallway, she was afraid she was going to fall flat on her face.
She managed to lean them against the wall between the nightstand and the headboard, then she pushed herself back onto the bed so she could swing her legs up onto the mattress. Her nightgown hitched up, exposing pale thighs. Cathy stared at the slightly lumpy skin. All her life she’d been wrestling with the same twenty pounds. Unfortunately she had a feeling that in the past couple of months those pounds had been breeding and now it was more like twenty-five. With all this forced inactivity, the situation was only going to get worse.
Her stomach growled. Great. Now she was hungry.
She wished she were the swearing kind, although she’d never understood how saying certain words was supposed to relieve emotional tension. There was nothing to be done but for her to get through the situation. When she was back home, she was going on a diet for sure. She would even start exercising. Nothing complicated—just walking.
The promise was as old as it was familiar. Cathy pulled up the covers and fought against the accompanying sense of failure. So many lost opportunities, she thought grimly. How many times had she vowed she wasn’t going to eat another bite of chocolate until she’d lost a few pounds? How many times had she sworn to herself that she was going to get into shape, only to spend her days reading?
A knock at the door interrupted her pity party, and she was grateful. For a split second, her heart jumped at the thought it might be Stone. Then she remembered that he didn’t want her seeing him, so it was unlikely he would show up in the morning, when light spilled into her room.
“Come in,” she called.
Ula, the housekeeper, opened the door and stepped inside her room. “Good morning,” the older woman said. She was petite, with graying hair pulled back into a sensible bun, and dark eyes.
“How did you sleep?” Ula asked.
“Great. My leg didn’t bother me much at all.”
The older woman nodded. Her pale gray dress wasn’t exactly a uniform, but it didn’t look like a fashion statement, either. Cathy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She wasn’t sure if the housekeeper was simply restrained in her manner, or if she resented Cathy’s presence. Maybe she thought Cathy was a leech or a charity case. Cathy grimaced. While she didn’t consider herself the former, she might definitely be thought of as the latter.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat,” Ula said. Her stern expression softened. “If you would tell me your preferences, I would be happy to prepare them. Mr. Ward isn’t one who pays attention to his food. I don’t think he notices anything I feed him.”
Cathy thought about the outline of Stone’s body. He’d looked lean in the darkness. Ula was slight, too. Great. Here she was waddling through the land of gazelles.
What did she want? Chocolate. About three pounds. That should see her through.
Stop it! she ordered herself. It was time to let go of the excuses and actually do something. This was a perfect opportunity. For the next few days, she wouldn’t be able to prepare her own food, let alone shop. Why not get a jump start on the program she wanted to begin when she got home?
She cleared her throat and felt a flush stain her cheeks. “Would it be too much trouble to have you make some low-fat foods?” Cathy asked in a rush. “Nothing complicated. Maybe some grilled chicken or fish. If it’s too much work, I’ll understand.”
“Not at all,” Ula said smoothly. “I have several interesting recipes.” Her gaze swept over Cathy. “You want to lose some weight?”
It was the obvious question. Cathy nodded.
“I can do that.” The older woman hesitated. “It’s not my business, but you might want to ask the physical therapist about an exercise program. Perhaps there’s something aerobic you can do while your leg is healing.”
Cathy hadn’t thought of that. “What a great idea. I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Ula offered her a slight smile.
Cathy gathered her courage. “I don’t know what Stone told you about me,” she began, then paused, hoping Ula would fill in the blank. The housekeeper didn’t, so Cathy plunged on. “Well, we’re just friends. I’ve known him for about two years. Not in person, of course. I know he doesn’t go out much. But over the phone. He used the answering service I worked for, and we talked most evenings.” She cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure why she was explaining herself to the housekeeper; she just didn’t think she could bear to live here if Ula didn’t approve. Silly, but true.
“Anyway, I was on the phone with Stone when the fire broke out in the building where I work. He was concerned enough to come to the hospital and check on me. Then he brought me here. I don’t want you to think that I’m going to make trouble or anything. I’m not. We’re just…that is, I’m not very important to him. I understand that.”
Ula’s expression didn’t change. “Thank you for explaining,” she said. “It was unnecessary, but very kind of you. Mr. Ward had said you were a friend of his, and as such, you are welcome in his home. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
She turned to leave, then paused in the doorway. “Perhaps later I’ll bring by a list of recipes I can try and we can discuss which ones interest you the most.”
As overtures went, it wasn’t a huge one, but Cathy didn’t think she was much in a position to complain. She smiled. “I would like that,” she said. “Thanks.”
This time the housekeeper did leave, but when she was gone, Cathy didn’t feel quite so alone.
Chapter Five
“You must be Cathy,” the young woman said as she bounded up the stairs.
Cathy sat on the patio because Ula had insisted. After breakfast the housekeeper had informed her it was a beautiful day and that the physical-therapy session could as easily happen outside as in. Over Cathy’s protests, Ula had hustled her down the hall to the stairs, where she’d slowly made her way to the first floor. Now Cathy sat in the wrought-iron chair, her back to the sun and generally hating life.
Her arms and shoulders ached from the crutches, and her knee throbbed. While she’d enjoyed her low-fat breakfast, she was still hungry and all she could think about was chocolate. To make matters worse, the young woman beaming in front of her looked to be about five feet tall, and maybe all of eighty pounds. Ula was tiny—this woman was tiny. Had Cathy somehow entered a world of perfect little people, where she was the only troll?
“Hi,” Cathy managed to say, hoping her bitterness didn’t show.
The young woman grinned. She had short blond hair and the kind of body featured in fitness magazines. A T-shirt and bicycle shorts showed off the sleek muscles to perfection. “I’m Pepper, your physical therapist.” Pepper held up her hand. “It’s a nickname, and I prefer the soft-drink jokes be kept to a minimum. My mother named me after her favorite aunt, Esmeralda, so Pepper is an improvement. How are you feeling?”
Pepper’s voice was as perky as her smile. Cathy fought nausea. “Just great.”
Pepper plopped down on the steps by Cathy’s feet. “You don’t sound great. If anything, you sound tired. Did you sleep well last night?”
Cathy shrugged. “Not great,” she admitted. The pain pills had helped, but she’d been restless. There were so many things on her mind. Her job—or the possible lack thereof—her surgery and recovery
, Stone. Everything was still too confusing.
“The first few days are the worst,” Pepper said. “Your body has to recover from the shock of the injury and from the surgery, as well. On the surface, you’ll heal pretty quickly, but remember it takes the body a year to completely recover from any operation. So be kind to yourself. If you get tired, take a nap. Try not to get too stressed.”
That Cathy could handle. She looked at Pepper. “What exactly are you here to do?”
“A couple of things. We’re going to work on your leg to make sure you don’t lose too much muscle tone. I’m going to show you some exercises to strengthen the muscles around your knee. Stronger muscles will stabilize the area while it heals. Second we’re going to work on your technique with crutches. Most people are pretty hopeless on them. It takes a lot of balance and upper-body strength, not to mention practice. I’ll be making sure you don’t injure yourself while you use them. We’ll do a little massage, too, to help the muscles.” She touched the spot above her left breast. “It hurts right here, doesn’t it? And across your shoulders?”
Cathy nodded. “Yes. I try shifting positions when I use the crutches, but it doesn’t seem to help.”
“While they keep the weight off the leg so it can heal, using crutches is physically unnatural. I want to minimize your pain and suffering in an already uncomfortable situation.” She stood up and looked around. “The housekeeper suggested we work out here. It’s pretty private. What do you think?”
Cathy followed her gaze. In front of her was a wide view of the ocean. On either side, tall hedges protected this part of the garden from prying neighbors. Behind them was the house, and as far as she knew, only Ula and Stone were inside. She doubted either would find her physical-therapy session interesting. But the real reason she agreed was that the alternative was going up to her room, and she just couldn’t face the stairs right now.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine out here,” she said, wishing she felt more enthusiastic about the whole thing.
“Great. I’ll get my stuff.”
Pepper’s “stuff” consisted of a portable table big enough for Cathy to stretch out on, along with some workout-size rubber bands and a small suitcase. In a matter of minutes, she had the table opened and a clean sheet spread over the plastic-covered padding.
“Hop on,” she said, patting the sheet.
Cathy struggled to her feet, took her crutches and lurched awkwardly toward the young woman. Pepper stepped forward to assist. “They’ve got the height adjusted wrong,” she said. “You’d think they’d check something like that. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it. But first let’s work on your leg.”
She gave Cathy a hand up onto the table. Cathy was shocked to feel the other woman’s strength. At her look of surprise, Pepper chuckled.
“I know, my size is deceiving. I’m strong. I grew up with five brothers, so it was get strong or get pinned every time we wrestled.” She smiled. “I decided to learn how to kick butt. They’re all huge, but I’ve got ’em running for cover.”
She had Cathy lie down on the table. They went through a series of stretches. Pepper made several notations on a chart.
“Do you exercise?” the physical therapist asked.
“Not really.” The loose sweatpants she wore weren’t very flattering, and Cathy figured that Pepper had probably already noticed the fact that she wasn’t in very good shape. “I’ve tried to start an exercise program a few times, but I’ve never been able to stick with it. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“We’re going to have you up and around in no time,” Pepper promised. “In a few months, you won’t even know you’ve had surgery.”
“Is there something I can do in the meantime?” she asked, reminding herself again that this was the perfect opportunity to make some changes in her life. “Ula suggested I ask you about that.”
“Sure. There are different aerobic exercises for people in wheelchairs. You could do some of those.” Pepper wrinkled her pixie nose. “I’ll work something up to bring in next time.”
“That sounds great. Thank you.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Now let’s work on this leg.”
Pepper took her through several exercises and more stretches. When her leg was too sore for them to continue, they shifted to her upper body. Cathy learned how to stretch out the muscles stressed by the crutches, as well as a few ways to build her upper-body strength. She could barely lift a five-pound dumbbell, but she refused to get discouraged. At least she was finally doing something. She eyed Pepper’s well-defined arm and wondered if that was possible for her.
When they finished, Pepper applied heat to her neck and upper back. “Just relax for a few minutes. Then we’ll start the walking lesson. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be barreling around on those crutches like a pro.”
“I can’t imagine barreling, but I would like to move a little more easily.”
Pepper glanced at the house. “I would guess so. There must be a ton of stairs inside.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
The therapist looked at her in surprise. “But you live here.”
Cathy lay on her stomach, the heavy heat-pack around her neck. She rested her head on her folded arms and grimaced. “No. I’m—” Words failed her. What was she, exactly? A friend of the family? Hardly? A what, then?
“Mr. Ward and I have a business association,” she said at last. “I don’t have any family, and when he heard what had happened in the fire, he wanted me to stay here while I recovered.”
“Nice work if you can get it,” Pepper said enviously. “Imagine actually knowing Stone Ward. Wow. I’ve read about him, of course. This house is amazing. What’s he like?”
Cathy hesitated, not only because she didn’t know what to say, but also because she respected Stone’s privacy. While she wasn’t completely sure about the parameters of their relationship, she did consider him a friend and she didn’t want to be responsible for gossiping about him.
“He’s reclusive,” she said. “A very private man, but kind. We’re not that close.”
That was true, she thought sadly. They weren’t close, and everything that had happened between them had only confused her. She wanted their relationship to be different, but she couldn’t say how. She just knew that she missed the regularity of their lives before…when she’d known she could count on hearing from him every evening at midnight. Although he’d come by last night, she didn’t know when she was going to see him again, and that troubled her.
She missed him. They were in the same house, and she missed him. It was crazy.
Pepper touched the heat pack. “We’ll give this another five minutes, then on with your lesson.”
Cathy smiled. “Thanks.”
*
Stone stood at the window, watching. Even as he told himself he had no right to spy on Cathy, he found himself unable to turn away. The physical therapist seemed capable, but he barely spared her a glance. Instead, all of his attention focused on his guest.
She moved across the patio, her stride slow and halting. The therapist stopped her and made an adjustment to the crutches. Cathy was able to straighten a little, and that seemed to help her balance.
Her straight hair hung down, concealing her face from him. Shapeless sweats hid her body. She wasn’t all she’d claimed to be, but none of that mattered to him. Their relationship had never been about what she looked like. What he’d cared about was who she was inside.
She continued to pace across the patio. With each pass, her mobility improved. It wouldn’t be all that long before she would be an expert on the crutches. By then, she would be able to put them aside and walk on her own.
Even though the darkened glass prevented anyone from seeing into the room, after a few minutes he stepped back. He’d wanted to check on Cathy’s progress, nothing else. The physical therapist had been as competent as he’d been promised. So now he could forget about his houseguest and go about his business. Everything was o
n schedule. He was helping Cathy get better. He would fix her—both physically and in any other way she required. That was his goal. To improve her lot in life, to atone.
Yet as he focused on the computer screen in front of him, he found himself thinking about Cathy instead of balance sheets. He found himself eager for the darkness so that he could again spend time with her. As he had a thousand times since the car accident three years before, he cursed the day and the light it brought.
*
Cathy stared longingly at the tray next to her bed. She’d demolished her dinner in less than ten minutes. The fish had been perfectly cooked in a delectable sauce. Sautéed mushrooms had been added to the rice; even the vegetables had been delicious. The small plate of cut-up fruit with a single scoop of frozen yogurt had been a very nice surprise for dessert. The only problem was, she was starving. She would have sold her soul for fast food, or even real, fat-filled chocolate. If there had been a way to hobble to a local store for a quick fix, she would have done it. However, she was well and truly trapped. She might as well have been at a spa in the middle of the desert. Maybe that’s how they were so successful. It wasn’t anything more than physically keeping clients away from the food they loved.
Cathy sighed softly and leaned back against the pillows. She wasn’t really hungry, she told herself. She’d just had dinner. Maybe she should have eaten more slowly so that her brain would have had time to register the food sitting in her stomach. At least that’s what all the magazine articles said. Or if that wasn’t it, then it was just psychological. While she was physically full, she wanted the rich, fattening foods to provide emotional comfort. She needed something with which to distract herself. In time she would get used to eating less. The results would be worth it.
Cathy stared down at herself, wondering if she’d lost any weight yet. It had been a whole day, and she hadn’t cheated once. In her mind, weight loss should be a function of sincerity rather than calories. In this case, she was very, very sincere. Surely that would count for at least a five-pound weight loss.
The Millionaire Bachelor Page 6
