Falling for His Next-Door Neighbor
Page 10
“Elliott’s here,” Joel said before she could answer, and he joined them, drawing Mom back into the great room. Elliott followed, unsure of what he’d find once he rounded the corner.
The kitchen stretched to his right, with a dining set in front of a pair of French doors that led into the backyard. Four steps went down—the site of his father’s fall.
A big living room filled the rest of space, with a large sectional that held Joel’s wife and two kids on the longest side and two women on the shorter one.
Elliott’s gaze landed on a woman with silver-purple hair that only reached her chin. It was very straight, not a hair out of place. She turned toward him, and everything around him fell away.
Only her brown eyes existed. Her heart-shaped face. Her timid yet strong smile.
Elliott needed to know her name, right now. Find out how she got her hair to fall like that. Her skin reminded him of the shimmery-white way the horizon shone when the sun was at its pinnacle, and he wanted to touch her, stat.
Everything rushed forward again, and Elliott managed to smile when Joel introduced the dark-haired woman next to the exotic beauty who’d rendered him breathless with a single look.
“And this is Holland Marsh,” Joel said. “She’s a physical therapist from the home health center.”
Holland Marsh. Even her name was sexy, and Elliott reached out to shake her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, painting his world in glorious colors with just her voice.
His heart pounded, nearly romping around in his chest like a bull gone rogue. He felt ridiculous—or like he’d been transported back in time fifteen years, when he was ruled by first impressions and strong hormones.
“Hey, Dad,” he managed to say, bending down to give his father a quick, soft hug. “I see Ma’s made her spaghetti and meatballs.”
His father smiled though Elliott knew he was in a lot of pain, and said, “You know how she is.”
Elliott did, and he cut a quick glance at the violet-haired Holland, who wore a patient and kind smile for his dad. “She likes to cook for a crowd.”
“Elliott,” Joel said. “Since Demmie and I are moving to Sacramento, you’ll need to sign the power of attorney papers.”
Elliott tore his gaze from Holland, wrenched his mind away from his fully formed fantasies. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Power of attorney?” He glanced at his mother, who stood with her arms cinched across her chest, everything making sense now.
Joel also watched their mom for a moment before turning back to Elliott with a long, impatient sigh. “They need help.”
“With the yard,” Elliott said. “The snow. The weeds.” He normally didn’t argue with anyone, but something told him this was wrong. “Joel, they’re mentally sound. Dad just broke his hip. He didn’t hit his head.”
“I’m fine,” Dad said, his voice barely audible.
“We’re fine,” Mom added, giving Elliott all the fuel he needed to see this through to the end.
“You go on to Sacramento,” Elliott said. “I’ll take care of Mom and Dad.”
Joel looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he stepped past Elliott and perched on the arm of the couch by his wife, Demmie. “Holland?” he asked.
“Your father needs a lot of care,” the beautiful woman said, making Elliott’s pulse zing through him like someone had hooked him up to a huge battery.
“I’m here,” Mom said. “Elliott will come down from the ranch in the evenings. And you ladies will be here.”
“Just one of us, ma’am.” Holland looked apologetic as she said it, her eyes filled with tenderness. “Your insurance only covers one home health nurse.”
“We’ll be fine,” Mom said again, this time with a note of pleading in her tone.
Elliott met Holland’s eyes, but she didn’t give him an indication of what he should do. He did want the best medical care for his father.
“How about we just see how they do?” Elliott asked, swinging his gaze from his mother, to Holland, and to Joel. “Give them a couple of months and see how things go.”
He looked hopefully back to Holland, as if she alone had to power to make this decision. Or maybe he just wanted to absorb the beauty of her face again.
She clasped her hands and gave him a small smile before ducking her head toward the other woman. “We’ll leave you. See you tomorrow, Mister Hawthorne,” she said to his father. She moved toward the corner, and Elliott’s heart screamed at him to go with her! Follow her! Get her phone number!
“I’ll be right back,” he said to the room and went with them. “Excuse me?” he asked, causing both women to turn back.
“How often will you come?” he asked.
“A nurse will come a few times a week,” Holland explained. “Your father will go to physical therapy several times each week as well.”
“What time?” He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious, but he also really needed to know.
“Your brother has everything to explain the physical therapy,” Holland said, not unkindly. In fact, she seemed good, and kind, and caring. She seemed strong, and capable, and sure of herself. Elliott wondered if that was his type. He sure hoped so.
“One more question,” he said as she opened the door. “You’ll be coming a few times a week?”
A smile formed fully on her face, and Elliott almost got knocked backward from the brilliance of it. “I’m a physical therapist, not a nurse. No one has been assigned to your father’s case yet,” she said. “We meet in the morning.”
Elliott’s heart plummeted, but he kept his face placid. “Okay, thanks,” he said, his mind racing. At least he had more time to beg God to assign Holland to his father’s care.
Read FALLING FOR HIS NURSE, Book 8 in the Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series now!
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About Liz
Liz Isaacson is the author of the #1 bestselling Three Rivers Ranch Romance series, the #1 bestselling Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series, the Brush Creek Brides series, the USA Today bestselling Steeple Ridge Romance series (Buttars Brothers novels), the Grape Seed Falls Romance series, the Christmas in Coral Canyon Romance series, and the Last Chance Ranch Romance series.
She writes inspirational romance, usually set in Texas and Montana, or anywhere else horses and cowboys exist. She lives in Utah, where she teaches elementary school, taxis her daughter to dance several times a week, and eats a lot of Ferrero Rocher while writing.
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FALLING FOR HIS NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR
Book Seven in the Horseshoe Home Ranch Romance series
by Liz Isaacson
Copyright © 2019 by Elana Johnson, writing as Liz Isaacson
Published by AEJ Creative Works
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance t
o actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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