by Pat Warren
Hannah was trembling all over, from fever, from her impotent anger. “Who asked you to come here? Who gave you the right to call a doctor for me? I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.”
“Hannah,” Joel said, swallowing his temper, knowing it would only make things worse, “everyone needs help sometimes. Are you trying to kill yourself? You have an infection probably. Or worse. You could go into convulsions with such a high fever, here all alone. Let me help you, please.” He reached out and touched her arm, steadying her.
“I don’t need help.” A sudden coughing spell shook her, but she brushed off his hand. “How do you think I’ve survived all these years? Alone mostly, that’s how. And I…I will again. I…”
Suddenly, the room began spinning, weaving, dark swirls in front of her eyes. She shut them tightly, her hands reaching out to grab him, grab something. If he hadn’t caught her, she’d have slid to the floor.
Gathering her into his arms, Joel shook his head. “All right, Wonder Woman. You can let go now.”
“It’s probably a combination of things, really,” Terry told Joel. “As you mentioned, not enough rest, meals on the run, working too hard. Along comes a virus she could easily fight off under ordinary circumstances when she’s in top shape. But not when she’s run-down.” Straightening from the couch where Hannah lay, he reached into his medical bag. “Make sure she takes one of these every four hours. Aspirin, too, for the fever until it’s normal. If it climbs, she’ll need a sponge bath.” Terry grinned at Joel. “How well do you know her?”
Joel shrugged. “A man has to do what he has to do.” He smiled and shook his head. “There’s no way she’d let me give her a bath if she’s aware of what’s going on. I’ll call someone.”
“She’ll be in and out of it for a while. That shot’s pretty powerful, and I’d guess she hasn’t eaten in days. Get some liquids into her, all she’ll tolerate. Twenty-four hours should make a big difference.” He snapped his bag shut.
Joel clapped him on the shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for coming over. She’s so damn stubborn.”
“She’s got a nasty bug, all right. Could have turned into viral pneumonia. A chest X ray might be in order when she feels better. Some things a body can’t fight without help.”
“Help is a four-letter word to Hannah.” He walked to the door with Terry. “Send me your bill.”
Terry gave him an admonishing look. “Hey, don’t insult me. Just be careful you don’t catch the bug yourself. There’s quite a bit going around.”
“I’m healthy as a horse.” He opened the door. “You and Gretchen going to Hyannis for Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, probably. You?”
“Oh, yeah. Command performance, you know. Otherwise, Mom won’t speak to me until Easter. I’d really like to go to Montana, but I probably won’t be able to until after the holidays. Have you talked with your dad lately?”
“Last week. He’s the same as ever. He wants us to visit, but I can’t make it right now, either. Probably not until spring. If you go, it’ll appease him until then.”
“Glad to help out. Thanks again, Terry.” He watched his cousin leave, then closed and locked the door.
Back in Hannah’s living room, he saw that she was sleeping soundly. He found her room and snapped on the light. There was a big brass bed, a chest of drawers that looked like an antique, a cheval mirror and a bentwood rocker. The impression was tasteful coziness, as with her office. On the wall, another watercolor by the same artist, this one in blues with touches of ivory. Soothing.
As he’d guessed, the bedclothes were damp and mussed from her previous wrestling bout. Joel removed his tie and jacket, and went to work.
Hannah had no idea of time passing, only of little snippets of wakefulness. She opened her eyes once to find herself in her own bed with clean, sweet-smelling sheets and her comforter covering her. The room was in semidarkness, and someone she couldn’t quite make out was in a chair by the foot of her bed. She was too tired, her brain too foggy to figure out who. Before she tumbled back into sleep, the person made her swallow some pills and drink some ginger ale. Then she slipped back into oblivion.
She drifted, dreamless, floating. The cough would wake her now and then, but her chest didn’t hurt as badly as before. And the headache was thankfully gone. Yet this lethargy, this heaviness of limbs where raising a hand to smooth back her hair was a monumental effort, was so annoying. She’d never felt like this before. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think.
Each time she awoke, the shadowy person was in the chair. Once, she thought there were two of them, whispering together. Sometimes, they didn’t move. Other times, they forced liquid down her until she had to turn her head aside. She thought she felt a cool cloth on her head once, but when she opened her eyes again, it wasn’t there. Time drifted and so did she.
Hannah’s eyes opened slowly, and she blinked against the glare. Finally, she managed to look around and saw that her window blinds were slanted to let in a weak winter sun. Then her gaze shifted to the foot of her bed. Slumped on her bentwood rocker was Joel Merrick, his unshaved chin resting on his chest as he slept.
How long had he been there? She remembered vaguely arguing with him in the kitchen about some phone call he’d made, then the blackness had claimed her. Gingerly, testing for a lingering headache, she angled to look at the bedside clock. Ten after four in the afternoon, since there was daylight. Had to be the day after she’d apparently passed out. Had he been here all that time?
Her bedclothes were clean and dry. Moving slowly, she turned back the coverlet and saw that she was wearing her long, pale blue nightshirt. Her eyes widened. Who had helped her out of her gown and into this? Heat moved into her face. Oh, no.
She would worry about that later. She must have been a lot sicker than she’d realized. She’d lost a whole day and night where she couldn’t remember things. Joel had come, insisting that she let him help her. She’d resisted but, weak as she’d been, she’d had to accept. There were times, Hannah supposed, when illness forced a person to accept assistance, much as she hated to admit it. Fortunately, she rarely became that ill.
Her mouth was so dry. On the nightstand was a decanter of ice water, a glass and a pill bottle. Carefully, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room swayed a bit, then straightened. Thank goodness. She picked up the decanter and poured water into the glass.
He heard the sound of ice clinking in a glass and woke with a start. “You’re awake,” Joel said, rising. “Here, let me do that.”
“It’s all right. I’ve got it.” She set down the pitcher shakily. Lord, but she was weak. She drank thirstily, then turned to him. “I believe I owe you many thanks.”
Joel drew his hand across his face, brushing away the remnants of sleep. “You don’t owe me anything. How do you feel?”
“Like I wrestled a tiger and he won.” She saw him smile. “Was I really terrible?”
He sat down beside her as she put aside the glass. “Yeah, you were. You’re the stubbornest female I’ve ever met. You won’t let anyone help you unless you pass out.”
“Are you sure you didn’t knock me out?”
“A virus knocked you out. Terry said if you’d have gone without treatment much longer, you’d have had to be hospitalized.” Her color was much better, though she was still pale. But her eyes were clear, and her hands shook only a little. She’d given him one hell of a scare.
Hannah frowned, trying to recall. “Terry. Who’s Terry?”
“My cousin. A doctor. I called him and he gave you a shot, then some pills. Told me to keep stuffing them in you along with lots of fluids. Do you remember any of it?”
She wrinkled up her forehead, trying. “Only snatches.” She glanced down at her nightshirt. “Did you…? I mean, I wasn’t wearing this, I know, and…”
He smiled. She had to be better if she was worried about modesty. “No, not me. I called Marcie and she came over. She gave you a sponge bath a
nd changed your gown. She also brought over a pot of chicken soup and gave me strict orders to give you some as soon as you felt up to it. Are you hungry?”
She felt better knowing Marcie had been the one, not Joel. As if on cue, her stomach gurgled. “I guess I could eat a little.”
“Great. Let me prop you up and I’ll go heat some soup.”
“I’d like to go into the bathroom first.” She touched her tousled hair. “I must look terrible.”
“Honey, you look wonderful compared to the day I found you.”
“What day was that?”
“Yesterday, early afternoon. You’ve been sleeping on and off over twenty hours.” He held out his hands. “I’ll walk you to the bathroom in case your legs are wobbly.”
His grip was solid, his arm slipping around her waist so strong. Her knees nearly gave way once, but she managed.
“Don’t lock the door in case you pass out, okay?” Joel asked, still worried.
She sent him a tolerant look. “I’ll be fine, honestly.” He was worse than a mother hen. Hannah closed the bathroom door.
He watched her eat, making her self-conscious. At least she’d brushed her teeth and hair, rinsed her face. She never wore much makeup, but she could sure use some today. The cool water helped bring back a little color. She’d just settled herself against the pillows propped at the headboard when he’d returned with a tray. Apparently, he had no qualms about searching through her cupboards until he found what he needed.
She finished the whole bowl, then leaned back, her energy drained from the small effort. “That was so good. I’ll have to tell Marcie, call to thank her for everything.”
Joel removed the tray, took it away and brought her a tall glass of orange juice. “Doctor says you need liquids.”
“In a minute.” She’d get her second wind in a minute, Hannah thought, closing her eyes. “I can’t believe how weak I still feel. A virus, you say?”
“Actually, it could have worked into viral pneumonia if neglected,” he said, sitting alongside her on the bed. “You’re not real good at taking care of yourself, are you?”
Hannah raised her head. “Usually, I am. It’s just that I had so much to do and…” Suddenly, her clients came swimming back into her mind. “Did Marcie call about…?”
“Yes, she took care of everyone. Will notified Lee at Sanctuary and filed the contempt charge on that deadbeat dad. Everything else can wait until you’re a hundred percent better.”
“Everyone’s been so nice. I…” Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. Oh, God, would she further humiliate herself and end up weeping? She pressed her lips together, struggling for control.
Joel took her hands into his, caressing the soft skin with his thumbs. “You scared me, Red. You honest-toGod scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” She blinked up at him. His hair was mussed, and he needed a shave. His clothes were rumpled and his wonderful blue eyes worried. No man had ever looked so good to her. “Thank you, for all of it.”
He squeezed her hands. He knew how hard it was for Hannah Richards to accept help, to thank people for help she hadn’t asked for. “You’d have done it for me. Hell, you help your clients above and beyond every day. You don’t need to be Wonder Woman to prove anything to me. I think you’re pretty terrific just as you are.”
She couldn’t let herself believe him. He was only saying that because he was kind and a good person. He’d have tried to help a transient on the street. She mustn’t make too much of his words, considering he’d had very little sleep lately. However, she couldn’t not say anything. “I happen to think you’re pretty terrific, too.”
She couldn’t know how much her eyes said that her lips refused to acknowledge. She was grateful, he knew. But there was more there. Something more that she was fighting with all her being. “I need to know something, Hannah. Why is accepting help so difficult for you?”
Her defenses were down. Perhaps, if she explained, he’d understand and not push this subject with her again. “I was orphaned at a pretty early age. I went from one foster home to another. I was never mistreated, but love and affection weren’t part of the picture, either. The last one was better than the rest. I learned that the only person I could truly rely on was myself. If someone does something for you, they want something in return. Always. So I stopped accepting help. That way, I don’t owe anyone. Can you understand that?”
More than she knew. “Yes. Thanks for telling me. Now let me tell you something. I don’t want anything in return for helping you through this. Nor do Will or Marcie. It may take you a while to believe that, but it’s true.” He leaned closer so he could see right into her eyes. “What I want from you, Hannah, has nothing to do with gratitude or repayment of favors.”
A frisson of apprehension raced up her spine. “What do you want from me?”
He smiled at her. “Friendship, for now.”
Hannah thought that over. “For now. What about later?”
“Let’s worry about later later.” He got up and shook out a pill from the small bottle, then handed it to her with the juice. After she’d finished, he slipped off his shoes.
Hannah looked up in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to rest. You’re getting tired, and I haven’t slept much, either. Do you need anything else?”
She’d figured he’d leave now that she was on the mend. But apparently, he was going to sleep on the couch. She could hardly fault him after all he’d done. “No, nothing, thanks. I am a little sleepy.” She sat up, poking at the pillows mounded behind her.
“Scoot down and I’ll fix ‘em,” Joel said. When she did, he arranged the pillows more comfortably, then walked around the bed and lay down beside her, his back propped against the headboard.
Hannah’s mouth flew open. “What are you doing?”
“I told you. I need to rest and so do you. Come over here and snuggle up against me. I’ll hold you and you’ll sleep better.”
She couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. “I don’t think so.”
“Yes, you will. Now, stop fighting me on every little thing.” He shifted until he was quite comfortable, then scooted her until she was stretched out with her head resting on his chest, his arms loosely around her. “There. Now, go to sleep.”
She could feel his heartbeat beneath her ear. Her own was hammering away. How could she sleep wrapped this way in his arms? She hadn’t been with a man in…good Lord!…in years. Joel was too attractive, too masculine, for her body to ignore the male-female thing. She might be sick, even feverish, but she wasn’t made of stone.
Hannah squirmed about, trying valiantly to do as he requested. After all, he’d been so good to her. She’d wait it out a little longer, then she’d sit up and tell him this wasn’t working and he’d have to leave. She needed rest, not stimulation.
Hannah settled her hand on his solid chest. His heartbeat had slowed, his breathing evening out. She sighed and closed her eyes. She had.to admit it felt good to be held. He was so big, such a comfort. She felt protected, as if no harm could come to her with his arms around her. Wasn’t that ludicrous?
She was getting drowsy. The medication, probably. Another couple of minutes and she’d rouse him. After all, this was ridiculous. They were co-workers, not lovers. And she’d been sick. She might be contagious. He shouldn’t be here, so close to her, where she could feel his breath softly ruffling her hair. She should tell him to go, to…
Hannah slept.
Holding her, Joel sighed. He hadn’t felt so relaxed, so comfortable, in ages. He closed his eyes.
Chapter Six
Hannah stood in front of her bathroom mirror brushing out her hair. It had gotten quite long. She really should get it cut. Or did it just appear longer because she’d taken to wearing it down more these days? It was less bother, she told herself. A French twist took time. The way she chose to wear her hair had nothing whatsoever to do with Joel Merrick. Absolutely nothing.
The
Merricks. She was about to meet them all for Thanksgiving dinner at the family home in Hyannisport. How had she ever agreed to such a thing?
Ever since her bout with the virus and all Joel had done for her, she found it difficult to turn down his smallest request. It was an odd turn of events, something she’d never encountered before. Even though he’d said she didn’t, she felt she owed him. And he’d been so boyish asking her, saying how much it would mean to him.
Since when had that become important to her? she wondered.
Oh, he’d made it sound like such a fun day. His mother would be cooking a traditional turkey dinner, and his father would do the carving. His two brothers and one sister, their spouses and children would all be there, as well as the doctor who’d attended to her, Terry Merrick, the one she couldn’t recall meeting, and his family. And Will, of course. An all-around fun day.
She was scared to death.
They were to drive there in his Mercedes. A quick check of her watch told her he’d be by to pick her up in twenty minutes. Even the weather was cooperating, with plenty of snow still on the ground, but the skies were fair and the temperature was in the midthirties. Great weather for snowmobiling. She’d never even seen a snowmobile up close.
Hannah drew in a shaky breath. It seemed she was stepping out of her comfort zone in a lot of ways for Joel. And all because of that sneaky virus.
She’d awakened in his arms late that evening, a first for Hannah. He’d slept on as she’d eased out of his embrace to study him. Such a nice face, that stubborn chin, those ridiculously long lashes. That black hair falling forward, begging her fingers to touch the dark curls. She’d had to struggle not to, knowing it would wake him. And then what would she say, caught with her hands caressing him?
