Book Read Free

The House on Main Street

Page 17

by Shirlee McCoy

“I think it’s probably best if he stays here. It’s not that I don’t trust you and Natalie. It’s just that he got out the other night, and I’m worried—”

  “You don’t have to explain. I’d feel the same if he were mine. The thing is”—Jethro shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, his smile gone—“Natalie and I have had a lot of losses in the time we’ve been married. Three babies. Each of them born too early to survive. After the third one, we didn’t have the heart to try again.”

  “I’m sorry.” She was shocked by the story, surprised that she hadn’t heard even a whisper of a rumor about the couple’s loss.

  “It’s been hard. One of the reasons we moved here was to put that part of our lives behind us.” He shrugged. “Four years ago today, we lost our last baby. I think Natalie would really like to have something to occupy her time. Just to get her mind off of that.”

  “I see.” She shifted uncomfortably. She’d never wanted children, and she felt almost guilty that she had Alex while a woman who was desperate to parent had no one.

  “It would really help her . . . help us both . . . if you’d let us take care of Alex this afternoon. We don’t have church service until seven, and if you need Natalie to stay longer than that, she can.” He cleared his throat, and she was sure there were tears in his eyes.

  Which made her feel like crying, because she hadn’t really mourned Emily and Dave, and all that sorrow was still lodged deep in her heart.

  “Okay,” she conceded, because how could she not? “But you have to be careful that he doesn’t leave the house.”

  “He won’t be out of our sight. I can promise you that,” Jethro boomed happily. “I’ll head down to the cafeteria. We’ll just leave from there, if that’s okay with you? And I may stop by the church. Alex really wanted to play our piano. It might be a nice way to help him focus on something other than Gertrude’s accident. Here’s my cell phone number. Call and check as much as you’d like.” He scribbled the number on a business card and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She bit her lip. Reminding Jethro to be careful again seemed like overkill, but she really wanted to do it anyway.

  “Call as soon as you know something. Hopefully, she won’t have to stay the night, but if she does, and you want to stay with her—”

  “I’ll come home as soon as the doctors figure out what’s going on.” Because, as much as she trusted the Fishers, she had no intention of leaving Alex with anyone overnight. She dug keys out of her purse and handed them to Jethro. “I didn’t turn the alarm on when I left. I’m not even sure I locked the door, but you’d better take these. Just in case.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, dear.” He patted her arm in that age-old reverend way that conveyed warmth and compassion all at the same time. “The church is praying for Gertrude and your family. I have no doubt that all will be well.”

  It was good that someone didn’t doubt it. The way things were falling apart, Tess was about as confident in things turning out okay as she was that Gertrude would come back from radiology with a smile on her face.

  She watched the reverend walk down the hall, still not all that sure about her decision. Alex had issues, and the Fishers hadn’t even parented before.

  Then again, neither had she.

  She sighed, turning away from the hall, her stomach churning with worry and fear, her nose coming within a quarter inch of Cade’s hard chest.

  That’s when she realized they were alone. Just the two of them standing a quarter of an inch from each other, the memory of Cade’s toe-curling, soul-searing kiss suddenly filling the air with an electric charge that threatened to short-circuit medical equipment from there to the Atlantic Ocean.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alone at last. Unfortunately for Cade, now wasn’t the time to take advantage of it. His hands had a mind of their own, though. They glided up Tessa’s arms, sliding over the smooth skin revealed by her blue tank top. Not the best choice for winter wear, but Cade could sure appreciate it.

  “You forgot your coat,” he murmured, taking his off and dropping it around her shoulders, hiding a little of the creamy flesh her tank top revealed.

  “I was so scared after you called that I didn’t think about the weather.” She slid her arms through his coat sleeves, her hands not even peeking out from beneath the cuffs, her hair falling out of a high ponytail that listed to the right. Her face was speckled with cream-colored paint. Not a lick of makeup, but her lips were deep pink, her lashes dark red. God, she was cute! Gorgeous. Cade could probably think of a dozen more descriptive words, but it wasn’t the time for that, either.

  “I really hope I made the right decision about Alex,” she said as she dropped into a chair, then jumped up again, pacing to the door. “He’s not a typical kid, and I’m not sure the Fishers realize that.”

  “I’ve known Jethro and Natalie since they moved to town. They’re good people, and if they make a promise, they keep it.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but Alex—”

  “Don’t borrow trouble, okay?” he replied, cutting her off. “You have enough on your plate without adding to it.”

  “But—”

  “Tess.” He moved in close, leaning down so that their breath mingled. She smelled like summer sunshine and paint, and he thought he would never whitewash his fence again without thinking of her. “Alex is going to be fine.”

  “It’s not just Alex.” She sighed, running a hand over her hair, her palm stopping at the tilted ponytail. She frowned, pulling it from its elastic band and scraping it back into a messy bun. “Gertrude has a broken leg, and that could be the least of her problems. Did you see the goose egg on her head?”

  See it? He’d pressed ice to it while they waited for the ambulance, looking into Gertrude’s dazed eyes and listening as words that would have made a sailor blush poured from her mouth. “It’s a good-sized knot.”

  “That’s an understatement, and you know it. What if she has a cerebral hemorrhage? What if she falls into a coma and never comes out? What—”

  “How is worrying about any of those things going to change what’s going to happen?”

  “It won’t, but it sure is making me feel better to just . . . say them.” She dropped into the chair again, brushing lint from dark blue jeans and frowning. “Man, I’m a mess.”

  “You look pretty damn good to me,” he responded, sitting in the chair beside her.

  “I bet you say that to all the single ladies.”

  “Not even close, Red.” He took her hand, rubbing a fleck of paint from her knuckle, his thumb skimming along work-rough skin that was a hell of a lot sexier than a soft, smooth hand could ever be.

  She shuddered, snatching her hand away. “You really should stop doing that.”

  “What?”

  “Touching me all the time. It’s not—”

  “Pleasurable?” He slid a finger across her lips just so he could watch her eyes dilate.

  “I didn’t say that,” she murmured, jumping up from the chair and taking a step into the hall.

  She’d pissed him off royally with her comment about small-town hicks, but she wasn’t anything like Darla. Not in the way she thought or the way she interacted with the community. She’d been gracious to the Fishers, forgiving of Ida’s nosiness, accepting of the crowd that had shoved its way into the room.

  She understood Apple Valley life, and she fit there.

  Even if she didn’t quite believe it.

  “Then why do you keep moving away?” He crossed his legs at the ankles, not bothering to chase her down. She wouldn’t leave. Not until Gertrude returned.

  “Truth?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder, her eyes deep purple-blue in her pale face. “I’m not into games. Even if I were, I’m not in the mood to play one.”

  “Who said we were playing?”

  “What else could it be? We barely know each other.”

  “Funny, Tess, I was just thinking that we probably know each other better t
han we know ourselves.”

  “Used to know each other that well. You keep forgetting that up until two weeks ago, we hadn’t seen each other in ten years.”

  “Trust me. I haven’t forgotten.” He walked across the room, smiling a little as she stepped back. “And I haven’t stopped asking myself how I could have been so blind as a kid that I didn’t see what was right in front of me.”

  “You weren’t blind. You were just looking in a different direction.” She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze jerking away.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was hiding something. Maybe she was. Ten years was a long time, but he still felt like he knew Tess.

  Though, not nearly as well as he wanted to.

  “Did it bother you that I dated Emily?”

  “Why would it have?”

  “I don’t know, but you look like you just bit into a lemon, so I’m thinking maybe it did.”

  “You have an overblown ego, Cade. You know that?”

  “I don’t think I do.” He cupped her face, looked into her eyes. There was sadness there and a wariness that he didn’t want her to feel. Not around him.

  “I’ll never hurt you like that again, Tess,” he said, brushing a gentle kiss across her lips.

  He wanted so much more than that, but she jerked back, her cheeks bright pink. “Cade—”

  “Watch what you’re doing, lady! This leg is killing me!” Gertrude’s shouted warning echoed down the hallway, the words cutting off whatever Tess might have said.

  Cade glanced out the door. No sign of Gertrude yet, but her voice alone was enough to draw the attention of a few nurses who were walking through the corridor.

  “That’s Gertrude,” Tess said, as if Cade wouldn’t have recognized her cantankerous aunt’s voice.

  How could he not? The woman was shouting loudly enough to wake the dead.

  “I said, be careful! You’re about to ram me into the wall! Do you want to break my other leg?”

  “We’ll get you back to your room without breaking any more of your bones, Ms. McKenzie.” A nurse pushed Gertrude’s gurney around the corner, a smile hovering at the corner of her lips.

  Obviously, the woman had the patience of a saint.

  “Let’s get out of the way,” Cade said, pulling Tessa back into the room and holding her arm as Gertrude was wheeled in.

  “Here you are, Ms. McKenzie,” the nurse said, patting Gertrude’s limp hand. “We’ve made it back without bumping one wall.”

  “Good job. I’ll send you a medal for it. Now, get me a wheelchair, because I’m outta here.”

  “I think the doctor is going to want to keep you for at least a night.”

  “I’m not staying the night. I don’t care what that dingbat of a doctor says,” she nearly shouted.

  Tess moved closer. “Calm down, Gertrude.”

  “I’ll calm down when I’m damn good and ready to do it,” Gertrude muttered, but she subsided, apparently having used up what little energy she had.

  “The doctor will be in once she reads the scans. I can bring you something for the pain while you’re waiting. How would that be?” the nurse asked.

  “A fifth of scotch would be good,” Gertrude mumbled, her eyes closed.

  “Not with your head injury.” The nurse laughed. “I’ll bring you what I can. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “I could be dead by then,” Gertrude groaned.

  “You’re not going to die.” Tess brushed a strand of frizzy orange hair from Gertrude’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I fell down ten steps and landed on cement.” Gertrude didn’t open her eyes, but she snagged Tessa’s hand and patted it. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m going to be fine. I just have a killer headache and enough pain in my leg for me to want to gnaw it off.”

  “Once you get some pain medicine, it won’t be so bad.”

  “Humph!”

  “It won’t!”

  “That’s exactly what I told you when you broke your arm in fifth grade.” Gertrude finally opened her eyes. “After you took the medicine, you said that I’d lied. As a matter of fact, you spent nearly a week complaining about how much pain you were in!”

  “I was a kid.”

  “And I’m an old woman!” Gertrude retorted. “With bones as ancient as mine, I’ll probably be in pain for the rest of my life. I’ll probably spend the rest of my days hobbling around with a walker.”

  “Obviously, she’s going to be just fine,” Cade said dryly.

  “Who asked you?” Gertrude retorted, but there wasn’t a whole lot of strength in her words. She glanced around the room, her brow furrowing. “Where’s Alex?”

  “Reverend and Mrs. Fisher took him home.”

  Gertrude nodded and closed her eyes again. No comment about Tess making the wrong decision. No questions. Not even the hint of a fight.

  Tess hovered over her, touching her forehead and then her hand, pulling the blanket up around her.

  Cade wanted to pull her hand away, hold it still, remind her that Gertrude was going to be fine, but he thought that what she needed more than that was his presence and his silence.

  He put a hand on her back, cool leather beneath his palm.

  She glanced his way, smiling into his eyes, the sweet curve of her lips intoxicating. “Thanks for being here, Cade.”

  “Where else would I be?”

  “Home? Enjoying your Sunday off?” She turned her attention back to Gertrude, a small frown line appearing between her brows. “She’s pale.”

  “You would be, too, if you just fell down a flight of steps and broke your leg,” Gertrude muttered.

  “Good afternoon.” A striking woman walked into the room, her hair white-blond, her eyes pale amber. She looked at Gertrude, then Tessa and Cade. “You two must be Gertrude’s family. I’m Dr. Elizabeth Sheffield. I’ve looked at Gertrude’s scans, and we should be able to keep her—”

  “Keep me?” Gertrude levered up on her elbows, suddenly wide-awake and apparently raring for a fight. “Wrap up my leg and get me out of here, because I’m not staying in this joint a minute longer than I have to.”

  “I understand how you feel, Gertrude—”

  “Bullshit!” Gertrude proclaimed so loudly that the bed shook.

  “Gertrude, you need to calm down.” Tess tried to intercede.

  Cade could have told her the effort was going to prove futile. Gertrude on a rant was a sight to behold, and that was exactly where she was heading.

  “Why should I?” Gertrude snapped.

  “Because you have a mild cerebral hemorrhage,” Dr. Sheffield cut in calmly. “And you probably have a heck of a headache. Being upset is only going to make it worse.”

  “I have a what? Explain it to me in English, Doc. If I’m not going to make it, I want to know it now so I can prepare myself.” Gertrude collapsed onto the pillows again.

  Tess wasn’t sure if her aunt’s sudden weakness was an act or a result of her injuries. She touched Gertrude’s shoulder and was relieved when her hand was swatted away.

  “Give me some space, Tess. I’m trying to breathe my last.”

  Dr. Sheffield laughed, patting Gertrude’s good leg. “I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that, Gertrude. Not on my shift, anyway.”

  Tess wasn’t quite as amused as the doctor seemed to be. As a matter of fact, she was about ready to tell Gertrude to knock it off. She sympathized with her aunt’s pain, but enough was enough already!

  “What we discovered, Gertrude,” the doctor said with a lot more patience than Tessa was feeling, “is a tiny bleed in your brain. Not something that is terribly worrisome, but we need to keep an eye on it for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “A brain bleed, huh?” Gertrude closed her eyes, seemed to sink into herself a little. “That explains this damn headache, then.”

  “We’ll bring you something for that shortly. The good news is that it should heal up just fine. In a week or so, you’ll be almost as good as
new.”

  “What about her leg?” Tess asked.

  “A clean break. We’ll cast it before she leaves tomorrow. For tonight, we’ll just keep it wrapped and elevated. She really is going to be fine.” The doctor smiled and patted Tessa’s shoulder. “The nurse will be in shortly to move her to her room. You’re welcome to stay with her tonight if you’d like. We can have a cot brought in.”

  “I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Gertrude mumbled as Dr. Sheffield left the room. “I don’t,” she repeated, opening her eyes and glaring at Tess. “But I do need a cigarette.”

  “You can’t smoke in here, Gertrude. You know that,” Tess said wearily. Sometimes her aunt was worse than a two-year-old.

  “How about a Pepsi, then?”

  “I don’t know. . . .”

  “It probably wouldn’t hurt,” Cade said. Then he leaned close to Tessa’s ear and whispered, “Even if it would, she’ll be asleep before you bring it back.”

  Her insides melted and her toes curled, because his lips were so close to her ear, so close to her skin, and she seriously wanted them to be closer than just close. She wanted them pressed to naked flesh, trailing along her neck and . . .

  Oh. Dear. God!

  She really must be exhausted. Emotionally drained. Out of her mind!

  She jumped away, running to the door and calling over her shoulder as she went, “I’ll get you one, Gertrude. Be back in a minute.”

  “Tess!” Cade called from the doorway of the room.

  She pretended she didn’t hear and kept running like the chicken she was.

  How in the world had this happened?

  How had she gone from living a Cade-free life in Annapolis to wanting him so desperately she was prepared to jump his bones in the emergency room of Apple Valley General!

  In front of Gertrude!

  She had to get this under control. Had to. Because if she didn’t, she’d . . .

  What?

  Fall into Cade’s arms and live out every fantasy she’d ever had? Find out that the guy she’d mooned over and lusted after and loved with every bit of her adolescent heart was still worth mooning over and lusting after, and even loving?

  Would that be so bad?

 

‹ Prev