“No,” Kelly insisted adamantly. “Hers. It was her mistake. She missed out on a hell of a guy.”
Kelly might have her shortcomings, but lack of loyalty had never been one of them. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out.”
“No.” She agreed with him wholeheartedly. “It wouldn’t have. She turned out to be a flake.” Shifting to the edge of her chair, Kelly pinned him with a look. “Nice try, Murph, but you’re not getting me to forget the subject. Jennings said that while you were very good in court today, you looked a little under the weather. Taking a look at you, I’d say that Jennings was given to making understatements.”
“Flatterer.”
He wasn’t going to bait her twice. “I’m not interested in flattery. I’m interested in you.” She rose again, unable to sit still for long. “Something’s wrong, Murphy. I can feel it.” Concern etched lines above eyes that were the mirror image of his. “Don’t lie to me and say it isn’t.”
Turning from her, Murphy squinted as he focused on the blinking cursor on his screen. Just took a little concentration, that was all. The world would remain in focus soon. He’d just gotten scared in the courtroom. And who could blame him? Everyone around him was hell-bent on being pessimistic.
“The good doctor didn’t find anything.” He thought it unnecessary to add that she had wanted him to go in for further tests.
That wasn’t good enough for Kelly. “Then the good doctor needs to be replaced by a better doctor.”
Murphy sighed. He couldn’t let Kelly place the blame on Shawna when it was his fault. “No, she’s just fine.”
Her face was a mask of skepticism. “Fine, like you?”
Murphy laughed softly as he leaned back in his chair. For a moment he rocked as he thought of the way Shawna had looked in her office when he had walked in and surprised her.
“Funny you should put it that way. I think there’s something bothering her.” He didn’t realize that, for a moment, he had let his guard slip, alluding to the fact that they had this in common, that there was something inherent bothering him. He had never admitted to anyone that he had been the least bit affected by what Janice had done, except to be supremely relieved.
Kelly frowned doubtfully. “Probably malpractice suits.”
Murphy shook his head. “No, there’s a sadness in her eyes that—”
He was doing it again, trying to divert her. “I’m interested in your eyes, Murphy, not hers.” She moved until she was directly in front of him. “Are you having trouble seeing?”
Kelly didn’t pull any punches. And while he might evade, he never lied. “Yeah.” Murphy dragged his hand through his dark hair and struggled to compose his features. He didn’t want anyone else concerned about this. It was his problem. His. And maybe not even a problem at that. Maybe they were just making mountains out of molehills. “But, hey, that’ll pass, Kell.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
He spread his hands wide, surrendering. “Then I’ll call her. Fair enough?”
She closed her eyes, summoning patience. She didn’t believe him for a minute. Men could be such idiots sometimes. “Murphy, let me take you to the hospital.”
He looked up and studied her for a moment. She was completely, exquisitely clear. It was going to be all right. All it needed was a little time. “If it was you, would you go?”
She fisted her hands at her waist. “We’re not talking about me.”
That was her way of saying no and they both knew it. She hated hospitals as much as he did. Murphy leaned back, resting his case. “See?”
Kelly sighed, consciously working at cooling her temper. “Yes, I would go, because I don’t believe in sticking my head in the sand.” She saw the surprise on his face and continued, picking up steam. Giving him reasons. Giving him the truth. “Because it’s not just me anymore, it’s Harmony and Thomas.”
There was more than a trace of envy in his eyes as he looked at her. “You’re lucky.”
Damn, she shouldn’t have led off with them. “And the rest of you.” She nodded toward the framed photograph on his desk. It was a group shot, taken last Christmas Eve. “You and Mom and Kim and company.” She was pleading with him now. “You’ve still got that. You’ve always had that.” She took a breath. What she said next was something she believed down to the bottom of her soul. “And someday, you’ll have the rest.” She arched her brow. “If you listen to your sister and get yourself checked out,” Kelly added with emphasis.
“Sure.” He nodded as if she had just told him to renew his subscription to a popular journal. “Now beat it, brat.” He tapped the computer monitor. “I need to finish this.” Whatever the hell “this” was, he added silently. All he wanted was a little time to himself.
And silence.
Kelly crossed to the doorway, then turned and looked at him. “You make me crazy.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. The reverse was true as well, but there was no doubting the love that went between them. “I’m your brother, it’s in my job description. Look it up.”
His smile lasted until she left the room.
Once she closed the door, Murphy sank back in his chair, his limbs feeling oddly liquefied.
It cost him to admit that he needed help of any sort. That wasn’t what he was about. He was the big brother, the best friend, the man of the family ever since his father had died. He was the caretaker, the care giver, not the one who needed to be taken care of.
If you admitted to that, he thought, it left you vulnerable, and he knew where that led.
A cryptic smile played on his lips. Yes, he knew where being vulnerable led. He’d been there once and the pain and humiliation had taught him that wasn’t a place he wanted to return to, not even for a brief visit. If that meant sacrificing a dream he’d briefly entertained, well, those were the breaks. Dreams were not one-size-fits-all, anyway. Some dreams just weren’t meant to be.
The one he had laid out for himself with Janice certainly hadn’t been. What hurt most was that, all that time, she’d been seeing someone else and he hadn’t even had a clue.
His telephone buzzed. Murphy turned his attention to things that he could control.
* * *
She couldn’t get him out of her mind.
Try as she might, Murphy Pendleton and his empty folder kept cropping up in her mind at the least opportune moments, filling in the tiny spaces that the day had allotted to her mind.
He confounded her. Professionally speaking. It irked her beyond words that he was so cavalier about his eyesight. Where was the harm in having a simple M.R.I. done? It wasn’t as if they were going to draw and quarter him. All he had to do was remain perfectly still in a cylinder for half an hour. A child could do it.
A mature child, which Murphy Pendleton obviously was not.
She couldn’t let go of it.
The blurriness he’d grudgingly admitted to could very well be nothing. But then again, it might be an indication that the blow to the head had caused some damage to the optic nerve. Symptoms weren’t something to be lightly shrugged off, like snowflakes during a light flurry. Granted that from her exams, both in the E.R. and in her office, it didn’t appear that there was any damage, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Shawna upbraided herself as she pulled in to her carport. There was no good reason to be obsessing this way, just because she’d once known him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have other cases to take up her time. If anything, she had too many cases.
She turned off the engine and sat there for a minute, thinking. Perhaps it was just nothing.
And perhaps it wasn’t.
Instincts, something that couldn’t be picked up from a textbook, told her that there was something wrong.
His problem, not hers, she told herself. She could do only so much.
Shawna got out of her car and locked the door behind her. There was a bubble bath with her name on it lurking in the not-too-distant future, and a book she’d been reading—a p
age at a time, for over two months—that begged to be finished.
It was time to indulge the inner woman, time to relax just a little. She’d more than earned it. It wasn’t her night for the clinic and there was nothing pressing that required her attention.
It was time to let herself be human.
Before her mother descended on her, she reminded herself, which was going to happen all too soon. She had better take advantage of her privacy while she still had it. She’d grown very used to it, attached to it and held prisoner by it at the same time.
Nothing but silence greeted her as Shawna unlocked the door of her small apartment. She’d lived here a little less than a year and a half. Shawna dropped her purse on the floor near the front door and stepped out of her shoes as she walked into the tiny living room. Tiny. It suited her. The house in Maine had seemed too large, too full of memories for her after the accident.
Everywhere she’d turned, everywhere she’d looked, memories had popped out at her, good memories that made her feel bad. Memories she couldn’t cope with.
So she had sold it, sold the house she and Doug had fallen in love with. Remembering that she had once been happy in Bedford, she’d applied for a position on the staff of Harris Memorial. She desperately needed a change of scene. Within a week she had packed up, pulling up the only real roots she had ever known, determined to transplant herself away from the pain.
It had followed along in the U-Haul.
The apartment could easily have fit into her old house three times over. It was cramped with her belongings. She hoped that perhaps somewhere in this crowded jumble she could lose herself.
And not think.
The telephone rang, shattering the silence before she had a chance to cross to the bedroom.
Please let it be a wrong number. Just this once.
She stared at it and debated not answering it. Ethics had her picking up the receiver on the third ring. The book and the bubble bath began to drift off into the realm of fantasy.
“This is Dr. Saunders.”
It was her answering service. “I have a call from a Mr. Murphy Pendleton. He told me to tell you that it was urgent.”
I bet. Didn’t the man ever take no for an answer?
Habit had her reaching for the pad and pencil she always kept next to the telephone.
“Give me his number.” Shawna scribbled it down as the woman rattled off the numbers. Shawna put the pencil down and cradled the receiver against her ear and shoulder for a moment. “Did he happen to say just what the trouble was, Myra?”
“Not exactly.” There was a pause as the woman glanced at the notes she had taken. “Only that he’s ready for that M.R.I. now.”
“All right, thank you.”
Shawna hung up the telephone, then stood staring at it. Was that a cryptic message he was passing on to her, referring to their last conversation, or was he finally admitting that there was really a problem?
Only one way to find out.
Looking at the telephone number she’d written down, Shawna tapped it out on the keypad. Mentally she went over her Hippocratic oath. Mailmen, she mused, had it easy. They only had to contend with sleet, rain and snow, and not even that here. They didn’t have to convince ex-jock types that their masculinity remained intact even if they admitted to having a medical problem.
Murphy answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
His voice was deeper, more resonant transmitted over the telephone. He sounded sensual. Like a predatory cat. A cat who had been sitting on the telephone, judging by the way he’d picked up so quickly.
Shawna’s survival instincts took over. “This had better not be a false alarm.”
He recognized her voice immediately and laughed at the accusation, tickled. “Shawna. You called.”
Was that a note of relief she heard beneath the glibness? Shawna straightened and took the receiver back into her hand, as if that could help her direct the course of the conversation.
“My answering service said you told her it was urgent.” When he didn’t answer her immediately, she thought it rather unusual. Had he lied and was now having the decency of experiencing second thoughts. “Urgent as in a bottle of champagne chilling on ice, or urgent as in something I would be interested in?”
She bit the tip of her tongue, realizing that she had unintentionally fed him a straight line. But she wasn’t used to trading banter. She was used to serious, professional people, and patients who sought her out because they wanted to be helped.
This wasn’t easy for him. God knows he’d tried to hold out before calling her, but he wasn’t an idiot, either. His vision hadn’t improved as he’d hoped it might. It had done the reverse. “The other eye’s being affected.”
He sounded serious. And possibly just a little unnerved. In any case, she couldn’t take a chance that he wasn’t on the level. She shook her head, hoping that if he was telling her the truth, he hadn’t allowed something irreparable to happen by being stubborn.
She looked around for her shoes and saw them in the corner. So much for a quiet evening at home.
“Damn, but you macho types make me angry.” Holding the long telephone cord, she walked over to her shoes and slipped them on. “Can you get someone to drive you to the hospital tonight?”
He glanced out his window. It was still light outside, even though it was after six. “Yeah, sure.”
He was lying again; she could tell by the cadence in his voice. It was too quick, too flippant. She recalled the address she had seen written down on his patient history. He didn’t live that far away from her. She toyed with an idea as she blew out a breath. “How badly affected is the other eye?”
He’d always been good at describing things. This was not so easy. “It comes and goes.”
Was he deliberately trying to be evasive and exasperating, or did it come naturally to him? “What comes and goes?”
“The cloudiness.” His voice picked up speed as denial reemerged. “And it doesn’t last very long. I’m probably just making something out of nothing.” It was Kelly’s fault. If she hadn’t badgered him, he probably would have just shrugged this off and turned in early tonight. Maybe he could still do that. He was beginning to feel like a fool again. A pathetic, whiny fool. “Listen, I’m sorry I bothered you—”
He knew just how to reel someone in, didn’t he, she thought. He’d spun this out just enough, then retreated, knowing she was bound to follow up. Whether he knew it or not, and she suspected he did, he was good.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Counselor. You’ve come this far, I’m not having you back out now.” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m only about five miles away from your house. I can come by and take you to the hospital myself.”
“A house call?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Isn’t that a little unorthodox?”
Look who was talking about unorthodox. “I don’t always play by the rules, especially when something precious is involved.” She was already searching for her car keys, impatient to be off.
He laughed. “Why, Shawna, I didn’t realize you cared.”
Warning signals went off in her head. “I care about all my patients, and for your information, I was referring to your eyesight.” She checked her watch. She’d been home five minutes. Not bad for downtime. “I can be there in fifteen minutes. Oh, and Murphy?”
He’d almost hung up. “Yes?”
She thought it only fair to warn him. “If this does turn out to be a ploy of some sort, I hope your insurance is paid up.”
“Health?”
“Life.”
With that she hung up.
Chapter Five
Shawna pulled up the hand brake on her car and got out. As she walked up the driveway to Murphy’s front door, she did a quick sweep of the surroundings. It was a nice house, a house where laughter was welcomed. Where it was invited, she thought with a sudden, unexpected smile.
The smile left just as quickly. She was here in
a professional capacity, nothing more. If this turned out to be a giant hoax at her expense...
Well, she would feel sorry for Murphy if that was the case. His ears would be ringing for a week after she finished boxing them. She pressed the doorbell. The door opened almost instantly.
He looked a little uneasy, she thought. She doubted if her presence had anything to do with it. Either the man was a consummate actor, or he was really worried about his condition. And trying hard not to show it.
It was, as far as she was concerned, the first sign of intelligent life residing between his ears.
She looked formal, he thought, wondering if she ever kicked back. She was dressed in a two-piece strawberry suit with the hint of a beige blouse peeking through. The best way to describe the aura she exuded was distant. Her bedside manner needed work, he thought. It was something they could work on together.
Murphy gestured behind him, taking a step back. “Do you want to come in?”
That was the last thing she wanted to do. Just in case this was a ploy and the man was a good actor, she was not about to step into the spider’s parlor like a dim-witted fly.
“No.” Impatience etched across her face. “C’mon, let’s go.” The sudden sensuous grin that curved his mouth froze Shawna in her tracks.
“You wouldn’t believe how many beautiful woman have said that to me.”
“Yes, I would.” One look at him would tell her why. Butterfly bandage notwithstanding, he was drop-dead gorgeous. That much hadn’t changed.
But her daydreams definitely had.
Murphy couldn’t tell from her expression whether or not she was joking. He hoped she hadn’t taken that the wrong way. He was just trying to make them both feel a little more comfortable with this situation. God knows he wasn’t. He felt awkward and dumb, and she didn’t look all that comfortable, either.
“Are you flattering me, Shawna, or putting me in my place?”
Her smile was enigmatic. “You figure it out.”
He sincerely doubted if he could. She was a puzzle, and he had always liked puzzles.
The door was still open at his back. “Sure you wouldn’t like to come inside?”
Husband: Some Assembly Required Page 6
