by Mimi Barbour
“We’ll go to the hospital right now, sweetheart. Stop sniffling. I promise we’ll find a way around this mess. Stop now. I promise.”
“What have I said? Marcus, are you in pain? Your look is scaring me. Is it something to do with what you were fretting about earlier?”
“No, dear. It’s something else altogether. I’ve just remembered. I need to go out for a short while.” He backed carefully away from the tottering table full of empty dishes, folded his napkin, and placed it beside his plate.
“There’s a wicked storm out there again. Don’t tell me you’ll be driving in this weather. At least wait until a snowplough has passed by. Please, Marcus.”
“No, I won’t drive. It’s a short walk to where I’m going. I won’t be long, so don’t worry.”
He strode out of the room and appeared in the foyer a short while later wrapped in a huge black overcoat and the thick woollen scarf she’d given him for Christmas while he was still a lad in college. Leather gloves sticking out of his pocket, a flashlight in one hand, and tall rubber boots in the other, he stepped to the porch and readied himself to face the storm.
Once through the door, he struggled with the cutting wind as it blew biting flakes into his face. Each house he pushed past had holiday lights either in its windows or shining from a Christmas tree placed strategically to be seen from the outside. He felt his spirits lift as Abbie enjoyed the signs of the coming festival. But once he cut through between buildings, the darkness swallowed him up, leaving only his footprints in the deepening snow.
At the hospital, the young intern he’d talked with the day before unexpectedly intercepted Marcus in front of the nurse’s station, and they walked together to Abbie’s room.
“The specialist spent the whole afternoon studying Miss Taylor’s case, redoing many of the same tests we’d already tried. He’s as flummoxed as we are.” The doctor’s bafflement was obvious by the tone in his voice and the disheartenment in his eyes. “She’s resting comfortably. In fact, she hasn’t moved at all. It’s like she’s Sleeping Beauty under a spell.”
“That’s certainly not the news I’d hoped for. By the way, the name of Dr. Andrews has come up in a few conversations lately. Do you know anything about this chap?”
“He’s very well respected in his field, but he isn’t a practising medical man. He’s a psychiatrist, actually. Means he works with people who suffer from mind problems—”
“I know what psychiatry means. What I’m asking is, have you heard anything against his treatments, for instance?”
The doctor stood quietly, his face like an open book while pages of thoughts flipped over and over. Finally he answered, “Actually, I’ve never worked with him personally, but I do know that many of the nurses hold him in high regard. So, too, do some of the younger doctors who are not quite so—shall we say—set in their ways. His office is at his home, but he has full access to the hospital’s facilities.”
“Thank you for your candour. I appreciate it.” Marcus held out his hand.
“Not at all.” The doctor accepted the handshake, opened the door to Abbie’s room, and stood back to let Marcus enter. “Psychosomatic disorders have been known to produce some very unusual symptoms, Mr. Chapman. Personally, I think discussing Abbie with Dr. Andrews is a very good idea.” Before Marcus could reply, the door had closed.
Acute worry flooded throughout his system as he moved closer to her bed.
“Abbie? You’ve been very quiet. It’s beginning to concern me.”
“You heard the doctor. Either I have bats in my belfry, or they have no idea what’s happened to me. I could spend the rest of my life lying like a lump in that blasted bed while you have to put up with me as your unwanted guest.”
“Heaven forbid!”
His teasing tone made her shore up the crumbling dam and sniff instead of bawling like a scared baby. “How can you joke? I have a life. The children need me, the Sisters must be frantic, and I want to go home.” That did it. Her wail turned into a gusher.
He sat in the chair nearest her, reached for her hand, and lowered his head so no one could see the wetness streaming down his face. Finally, he mopped up the mess and warned, “That is the one and only time I will allow you the use of my body for such a disgusting display of self-pity. Now take a deep breath and stop this nonsense. We’ll get to the bottom of this mystery. I promised, didn’t I? And you know my word is good.”
“I’m ever so sorry, Marcus. From now on, I’ll cry inside.”
“So that’s why I feel all achy and sad from time to time. You’ve been hiding from me and suffering. Stop it at once!”
She smiled, and with a catch to her voice, she said, “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, tomorrow, we will call Mrs. Dorn to make us an appointment with Dr. Andrews for the day he returns to town. We will then drive Mrs. Pearson for her visit at the home, and if you wish, I suppose on the way to my office—whenever we can fit that in,” he added dryly, “we can make a detour to Holly Mount so you can see for yourself that no one is indispensable. As much as they all might miss you, both the children and the Sisters will recover and move on.”
“You sure know how to cheer up a girl, Marcus. I’m surprised you’re not married.” He caught the mockery and grinned.
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“Seriously. Why have you never married?”
“I really don’t know. I’ve had many women friends. I’m not a complete moron with the opposite sex, you know.”
“I never for one moment thought you were. So why?”
“My goodness, you’re like a puppy with a juicy bone. Because I’ve never met a woman I couldn’t live without. When I was a boy, my father worshiped my mother. They had a brilliant marriage. Before my father died, he gave me one piece of advice. He told me, ‘Don’t marry anyone unless you know that life without her wouldn’t be worth living.’ Until I find someone who makes me feel that way, I’ll carry on as I have in the past—alone.”
“Aren’t you ever lonely? I mean, don’t you ever yearn to meet that perfect someone?”
“No.” He felt a trickle of strange vibrations begin to grow throughout his chest and then drop into his stomach. Trying to decipher them was almost impossible, so he made an educated guess. “But I have a feeling you do.”
“I used to, every day. But since I’ve been lodged inside you, I must say those thoughts have been the furthest thing from my mind. I guess I have bigger worries than when I’ll be meeting my Prince Charming. Thank you for your honesty, Marcus, and for being such a kind and caring landlord. I do believe I will say good-bye for now. I have a great deal of thinking to do in private.”
Marcus sat by her for some time and tried not to let her inner sensations of worry, sadness, and uncertainty bother him overmuch. His gaze roamed her still features, and before he knew it, his palm cradled her cheek.
How lovely she is, he thought, knowing that for the moment his feelings were his alone. Small, yes, but full of compassion and gentleness, and loved by so many. I can’t let her down. I have no idea how I’ll manage to accomplish this miracle, but I’ve promised, and somehow it’ll be done. After all, living with this woman inside me won’t be near as much fun as living with her beside me.
If heaven existed, and no doubt his father resided there, the old man would be smiling. For Marcus knew he had found her—the one he couldn’t live without.
As he stood up and prepared to leave, he experienced a kind of ecstasy sweeping throughout his system that was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
It caught him so unexpectedly, his knees weakened, and he had to lean against the bed so as not to topple over.
Once the sensation settled into every pore of his body, it simmered and glowed. There wasn’t a drug in the world that could produce this euphoria.
Except for Abbie, his personal stimulator.
Chapter Nine
She loved him! All this time, waiting around for her Prince Charming, Abbie had been s
o certain that, when he arrived, she’d at least recognize the man. Turns out, she’d had to live inside him before knowing positively that he was the one. And what good did it do her? Locked inside his body, no touching or kissing… Maybe it wasn’t love but wishful thinking on her part.
After all, a normal day for her was filled with people she adored. Little ones she showered with hugs and kisses. Even with the adults, she shared lots of affection. Now everything was different. What if she felt this way because Marcus had become her only outlet—someone to fancy?
That said, she poked away at the theory and knew it didn’t fit. He wasn’t particularly soft-hearted, and he wasn’t at all needy, two prerequisites that would have caught her attention in the past. This man, used to being in control, expected to have his way in most things. Not an easy choice for a husband. But he was a person who would never let the woman in his life down in any way. He’d be the type to hold sacred the old adage “till death do us part.”
She let herself imagine being invited into his world, a daughter to his splendid mother and a co-parent for their future children. Somehow, she could even consider living in that old mausoleum, especially if he’d let her bring the sunshine in and modernize the space. What fun! How could life get any better?
Sighing deeply, she shut down her fantasies. Time to get serious. Think about the future and what it held. She’d met Dr. Andrews, many times, but Marcus hadn’t thought to ask for her opinions on his abilities. Not that they differed from those of the intern.
People talked, and she’d heard about how very kind he was to his patients. She’d also heard rumours that he had a passion for supernatural phenomena, which might be just the answer to their problem. Nothing else had worked, so why not see if he could help them.
In fact, one of her friends, Dani Howard, who was recently married and moved to Chicago, was his niece. Dani’s pride in her eccentric uncle had showed clearly whenever she talked about him—about his intelligence, and about how many people he’d helped.
Tomorrow, Abbie determined, couldn’t come fast enough. The sooner they talked to the specialist, the sooner they might be separated. Once she left Marcus’ body she would employ all her feminine wiles and somehow find a way into his heart.
****
“Marcus, wasn’t it thrilling that Mrs. Pearson got on so well with those ladies who met her in the lobby? Funny, how things happen sometimes, isn’t it? If they hadn’t been passing through just as we arrived, and introduced themselves as members of the residents’ book club, she might have lost interest in the place without giving it a fair chance.”
“It was a lucky break.” He hummed as he drove along.
She knew, instantly, something didn’t quite fit. “Why, you sly fox. You arranged for them to be waiting, didn’t you? You must have phoned ahead when you kept me locked out. I wondered why you wouldn’t open up.”
“I’ve always found that to leave this sort of thing to chance might be risky, so…I gave luck a little nudge.”
“You dear man! She’ll be in that comfy little room by Christmas. Strange how it came available just now, and at the price she could afford. Her teacher’s pension should cover the costs. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that coincidence, would you?” She stopped talking and filtered through his reactions. Bingo! She caught his cover-up. “Why, you big-hearted fraud, you did.”
“It was their storage section—wasted, if you ask me. I might have donated a prefab shed to be delivered and set up behind their porch. It’ll be perfect for keeping their supplies, which in turn has freed up the space inside the main building. Now it’s emptied, that area is big enough for two accessible rooms to be a residential option. Made perfect sense.”
“No wonder the director greeted you personally. You’d already discussed these arrangements and told her to keep the information to herself, didn’t you.”
“It did seem senseless to take poor Mrs. Pearson there only to be told there would be no room for her. So, it all worked out for the best. Now, I have some other news for you, which I hope will bring back your infernal giggles.”
“You’re having me on. You hate it when I giggle.”
“No such thing. I find it rather charming. Now, I did call Dr. Andrews’ house, and we have an appointment in the morning. He’ll be returning late tonight, and Mrs. Dorn firmly opposed us arriving before the doctor had a chance to his—her words—’peace and quiet after his gallivanting all over God’s green acres.’” His mimicking of Mrs. Dorn’s accent worked brilliantly.
Abbie giggled. “She’s quite the character, isn’t she? Tomorrow’s soon enough. To tell you the truth, I’m a little scared to approach him. What if he can’t help us?”
“Then we’ll keep looking. No doubts now, Abbie. Keep a positive outlook, and it’ll all work out. So, what’s next on our agenda?”
“Your office. I’ve kept you from your work long enough, and I did promise to share the time with you. Just know one thing: I will be knocking at your conscience a bit later on, so we can stop to see the children at Holly Mount. I’ve been remiss in not going in sooner, but I know that seeing the children will be difficult, and I’d hoped to save you from the troubling situation.”
“It’s a deal. And Abbie, you have no idea what I can handle on your behalf. Bye now.”
The office was in chaos when he arrived, just as he knew it would be. Previously, he would have obsessed over the hundred-and-one chores that needed his attention, but today he experienced a definite lack of enthusiasm.
Mrs. Tennyson, his personal assistant, approached, her expression fierce and her manner frazzled. Tight-lipped, she bit out the information she’d decided ranked as most important. Watching her slap each memo under the bunch she carried as she read them out loud, he could tell his absence had created havoc.
He called a halt to her tirade. “Mrs. Tennyson, stop and catch your breath. Pile all my messages on my desk in the order you received them, and then be available for comment after I’ve had a chance to get organized. If you’d be so kind, I’d also like some coffee. And then take a cuppa and ten minutes for yourself—put your feet up on your desk and relax.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Chapman?” Her astonishment was obvious.
“That’s an order!” He gave her the old eagle eye, and she withered.
“Yes, sir.”
He could feel Abbie hovering in the background as he loosened his tie, took off his suit jacket, and pitched in. To ignore her wasn’t easy, but he had no choice. Responsibilities had always ranked high on his agenda, claiming his attention, keeping him shackled. He guessed he was born serious and diligent…and boring.
He sorted and worked through a load that would put a slight dent in the stack, but he came nowhere near cleaning off his desk. Nevertheless, when his mind clicked into work mode, he blessed his ability to remember information on all his clients and their individual cases. Before long, he’d organized everyone around him and delegated tasks so that the office hummed once again, with everyone working in tune with the boss.
“You’re a lawyer and an accountant?”
“So, you’ve decided to stop lurking and say something. As to your question, I’m what they refer to as a Corporate and Commercial Lawyer. Or an Accountant Lawyer. That makes me twice as boring, I suppose.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He waited.
“I’d say you must be twice as smart.”
Her answer pleased him. He didn’t know why it should matter so much—how she saw him, that is—but it did. “More like twice as busy. When I decided to open an office branch in this area, I already had quite a few happy clients because our moving closer would cut down on their travelling to London. I actually thought I’d be able to slow down some. But that’s not the case. I’ve been inundated with business; so much so, it’s impossible to keep up. Especially with our, ahh, shall we say, special circumstances, I haven’t made it into the office since we joined up.”
“But having s
uch a tremendous load is a good thing and should be simple to overcome. There are a lot of individuals looking for employment right now. Hire the appropriate people to take on more of the responsibilities, and leave ‘em to it. Surely it isn’t necessary to do everything yourself?”
“I do believe you’ve hit on a perfect solution.” Sarcasm, evident in his tone, had her rethinking her words. Of course the man had already come up with this solution, but something had to be wrong.
“As if you hadn’t thought of it yourself.”
Feeling like a ruddy twit, mean and insensitive, he apologized. “I’m sorry for biting your head off, Sweetheart. Last week I interviewed a multitude of possible employees but came up almost empty-handed. Good people in my line of work are few and far between. Either they’re too old and set in their ways, or they’re unwilling to relocate from the bigger cities, or…”
“Have you tried the graduating classes at the universities? If you can get them young, malleable, and still full of energy and willingness to work hard at their new careers, wouldn’t it make up for their lack of experience?”
After she made her sensible suggestion, he felt her begin to retreat, probably afraid he’d bite her head off again, so he quickly replied, “Now that I didn’t think of. I’ll get Mrs. Tennyson busy securing a list of the top students from the closest campuses right after the holidays. You know, we did hire a few younger people in the London office, and they turned out to be some of our best employees. Her pleasure radiated inside, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“It was just a thought, but if it helps you at all, then I’m happy I spoke up.”
“Me too. Never be afraid to speak up around me, Abbie. Promise me.”
“I promise. I’ve interfered with your work enough, so I’ll leave you to get on with it for now.”
As soon as his energy began to wane, she returned. “Marcus, you did give me permission to call a halt when I thought it time. I think you should stop now. Inside I can feel your exhaustion. It’s almost as if you’re recuperating, and your body wants to shut down. Were you ill recently?”