Chapter Four
One minute Annie was walking down the stairs, the next she was falling and desperately reaching out for something to stop the downward plunge. Something stopped her, all right. It was called cement. A jarring pain shot through her right leg. She cried out just before it took her breath away. Moments later Mason was there.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“Fat chance,” she managed to choke out. “Knocked the...wind out...of me.”
“Where does it hurt?” He ran his hands over her head and down her body. “Did you hit your head?”
“No. My leg.”
After helping her to a sitting position, he gently touched her knee and shin. Searing pain made her cry out. “Ow!”
He slid her sandal off and put two fingers on her ankle, a serious expression on his face. Apparently he noticed her questioning look because he said, “I’m checking the pulse—blood circulation.”
“Why?”
“Make sure nothing is restricting it,” he said.
She was almost afraid to hear the answer but asked anyway. “What would be doing that?”
“The bone.”
Yup, she was right. Didn’t want to know that. Then he checked her foot and dragged his thumb lightly across the arch. It tickled and she involuntarily moved, sending a sharp pain up her leg.
“Ow—” She gritted her teeth because she wanted so badly to cry.
“Do you have scissors?”
“Kitchen drawer. What are you—?”
But he was gone and she heard his footsteps racing up the stairs. He was back in less than a minute with her heavy shears in his hand. He positioned them at the hem of her slacks.
“You’re going to cut them?”
“Yes. I’m concerned about swelling. They’ll do it at the hospital anyway. I think your leg is broken.”
“No. I don’t have time for that.”
He met her gaze, and his was serious and doctorly. “You’re going to have to make time. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Can’t you brace it with a couple of tree branches and wrap it in strips from a dirty T-shirt?”
One corner of his mouth curved up. “You’ve been watching too many action shows on TV.”
That was probably true. “You could be wrong. Maybe it’s just a really painful sprain and you’re overreacting.”
“I hope I am.” His serious tone said he was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. “You still need an X-ray to make sure. I’m taking you to my emergency room to get it checked out.”
“Oh, bother—” She closed her eyes and tried not to move and make it hurt more. “I’ve been up and down those stairs more than a hundred times. How did this happen?”
“My guess is you tripped over that box of disposable diapers.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
“Oh.” Vaguely she remembered bringing bags from the car and trying to take as much as possible in one trip. Between her parking spot and the flight of steps, the box started slipping so she’d set it on one of the steps near the bottom, intending to grab it when she got the last bag. What with the Dwayne drama, she’d forgotten all about it. It was a big box because she went through a lot of diapers—“Mason, the babies!”
“It’s all right. I’m calling my mom. She’ll take care of them.”
“But they’re my responsibility—”
“And mine,” he quietly reminded her. “But everyone needs help sometime, Annie. And you really don’t have a choice right now.”
She hated that he was right.
While they waited for his mother, he fashioned a splint from a cardboard mailing box and duct tape to immobilize her leg. Then he filled a plastic bag with ice, wrapped it in a towel and put it on the injured limb to reduce swelling. Flo got there in record time and gave Annie a quick hug and reassuring smile before hurrying up the stairs to handle the twins.
“Okay,” Mason said, “let’s get you to the car.” He helped her stand without putting any weight on the injured leg but the movement sent pain grinding through her. There was a grim look on his face when she cried out. “I was afraid of that. Either I carry you or we call paramedics.”
“No ambulance.”
“That’s what I thought. This will be faster and less painful. Brace yourself. Deep breath.”
He gently lifted her and she slid her arms around his neck then held on. In spite of the pain, she had that familiar feeling of safety when he held her and closed her eyes while he moved as quickly as he could without jostling her too much. His SUV was at the curb in front of the complex and he got her into the rear, where she propped the bad leg up across the leather seats.
When they arrived at the emergency room entrance, someone in scrubs was waiting at the curb with a wheelchair. Mason quietly but firmly directed that she be taken to Radiology and he would meet them there with paperwork. He was as good as his word and while waiting for the X-ray tech to take her back she filled out medical forms and insurance information.
It turned out that the scrubs guy was an ER nurse who worked closely with Mason—Dr. Blackburne. He told her that Mason was smart, skilled and one of the best diagnosticians he’d ever known. Everyone liked him. And his combat medical experience saved more than one life during a recent MVA trauma—motor vehicle accident involving multiple cars and victims with critical, life-threatening injuries.
“I think this is just a bad leg sprain,” Annie told him. “But Mason believes it’s broken.”
“Hate to say it, but he’s probably right.”
It turned out that he was.
After the films were taken, Mason got them to the front of the line to be read by the radiologist.
Annie was sitting on a gurney in Emergency with the curtain pulled when he came to give her the results.
“I have good news and bad,” he said.
“Don’t ask which I want first. Just tell me the worst,” she said.
“It’s broken.” There was sympathy in his eyes, not the satisfaction of being right. “You’ll need to be in a cast.”
“How long?”
“That’s up to the orthopedic doc. In a few minutes he’s going to set it—”
“And plaster it?” she asked.
“Probably fiberglass. It’s lighter. The goal is to control your pain and swelling, then keep it immobilized while the bone heals.”
She folded her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “I see no good news in that scenario.”
“It won’t require surgery to set the bone.”
“Does that mean I can walk on it?” she asked hopefully.
“No. Non-weight-bearing for six to eight weeks depending on how fast you heal and whether or not you follow doctor’s orders.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say eight weeks?”
“Max. Less if you don’t push yourself too soon,” he confirmed. “And, in the good news column, a broken bone heals much faster than soft tissue damage, like muscles, tendons, ligaments.”
“Oddly enough, that doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better. I have two four-month-old infants.” This nightmare was expanding exponentially. “How am I going to take care of them? Go to the store? Walk the floor if they’re crying?” Then the worst hit her. “I live in a second-floor apartment. I have to go up and down stairs. There’s no elevator.”
“If you put weight on it before that bone heals, there will be complications,” he warned.
“So what am I supposed to do?” She was very close to tears but not from physical discomfort, although her leg was throbbing painfully. Dyslexia had been a challenge in school and the bullying that resulted was emotionally devastating, but she’d learned coping skills. None of that had prepared her to cope with this.
“Move in with me,” Mason said.
That sudden declaration kept her fr
om crying. “Just like that? It was the first thing that popped into your head?”
“I’ve had time to process the situation.”
She was still bitter about him being right. “Because you knew all along it was broken.”
“Yes. I’m just glad it’s not more serious.”
“It’s more serious to me.”
That was self-pity, raw and unattractive. She wasn’t proud of it, but couldn’t deny the feeling. He probably thought she was being a drama queen, what with seeing patients who had injuries much more serious and life-threatening. But she had her babies to think about. How was she going to take care of them?
Through her shock she was trying to work out the logistics of what was happening to her. “I can work from home and have groceries delivered. But I can’t hold a baby and walk on crutches. I won’t be able to pick up Charlie to feed him. Or carry Sarah into the bathroom to bathe her. And it’s my right leg. That will make driving difficult, if not impossible.” Her heart was breaking. “How will I get them to the pediatrician? Maybe Uber...but the complications—”
“Move in with me,” he repeated.
“I don’t know you,” she blurted.
He sighed. “Look, I know this is upsetting. But it’s been a month now. Have I let you down? Have I done anything suspicious or weird?”
“You mean aside from living with your parents?”
“I haven’t had a lot of time to go house hunting.” He moved closer to the bed and looked down at her. “If it would make you feel better, you could do a background check.”
Annie’s eyes filled with tears. “I know I’m being silly. You’ve been terrific and your mom is a goddess. But it’s hard for me to deal with the fact that I can’t do this on my own.”
“My parents have a single-story house and lots of room. Believe me when I say they would love it if you and their grandchildren stayed with them.”
“How do you know? Have you talked to them about it?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” he said. “I would tell you if they were hesitant, but they couldn’t have been more enthusiastic.”
“I don’t know—”
“Look, Annie, we can keep this up however long you want, but we’ll end up in the same place.” He sat on the bed, being careful not to crowd her injured leg, and took her hand in his big warm one. “The thing is, you don’t really have a lot of options.”
He was right again and she wasn’t any happier about it this time. She nodded and one tear trickled down her cheek. “Okay. But only for the babies.”
* * *
Mason carried the last box from Annie’s apartment into her new room. She was sitting in the glider chair with her casted leg elevated on the ottoman. Charlie was sacked out in one of the cribs his parents had bought and Annie was holding a sleeping Sarah in her arms.
He’d spent his day off making trips back and forth for all the baby paraphernalia, her clothes and toiletries. In between carrying the babies to her for feeding and cuddling, he put everything away in the pine armoire and matching dresser. Using the top of it for diaper supplies, the second crib beside it was being turned into the changing table. His parents wanted their grandkids to spend a lot of time there and had insisted on buying a bed for each baby.
That meant Annie would be there, too. He liked the prospect of spending time with her, especially being under the same roof. For the next six weeks at least, he wouldn’t fall asleep on that uncomfortable couch of hers.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey.”
“What’s in the box?”
“Toys.” He set the box in a corner, out of the way. With her on crutches, the last thing he wanted was for her to trip and fall.
Two days ago he’d brought her here from the hospital and his mom had helped her care for the twins. This was his brothers’ old room. It had bunk beds but was still a little crowded with Annie and the babies. Between working a shift and moving things from the apartment, Mason hadn’t had a chance to talk to her. He’d missed it. He didn’t want to, but it was pretty hard to ignore how glad he was to see her.
“This is the last of the things on your list. Unless you think of something else.”
“You look tired,” she said softly.
“Don’t feel guilty.”
“Who said anything about—?”
“I can hear it in your voice.” Funny how he knew her that well in a relatively short period of time. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it kind of is,” she said. “I left the box of diapers on the stairs.”
“That’s why it’s called an accident. On the plus side, my folks are over the moon about you and the twins being here.” And, though he didn’t want to be, so was he.
Mason moved closer to the chair and smiled at his beautiful daughter. “How are the kids handling this change of environment?”
“It’s different and they know. Not much napping going on today. I could tell they were a little restless and out of sorts.” She looked up and there were shadows under her eyes, proving someone besides him was not getting enough sleep. On top of that she was pale and there were traces of pain around her mouth from the recent trauma.
“How are you holding up? Are you staying off the leg per doctor’s orders?”
“Have you met your mother? She’s the keep-that-leg-elevated police. If I get up for anything other than the bathroom, her feelings are hurt because I didn’t ask for help.” Her full lips curved upward. “She’s completely fantastic, Mason. So is your dad.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
“Flo must be exhausted. Basically she’s been doing the work of three people, between the babies and me.”
“I think she’s asleep.” The TV in the family room was off and the house quiet when he’d come home with the last box.
“Good.” Annie nodded. “She checked in with me when you went for the last load and wanted to put Sarah in the crib for me, but I just want to hold her. Your mom, bless her, completely understood. She was turning in and wanted to make sure I didn’t need anything. She said to holler if I did.”
“Well, I’m back and just on the other side of the bathroom.” There were entrances to it from each bedroom. “If Charlie or Sarah wakes up, I’ll hear them.”
Annie shifted the baby in her arms. “Can you put her in the crib for me?”
“Sure.” Mason leaned down and slid his hands under the little girl and carefully lifted her. After a soft kiss on her forehead, he set her on her back beside her brother. “She’s out cold. So is Charlie.”
“Excellent.”
“Now you can get some rest,” he advised.
“Yeah.” But she reached for her crutches leaning against the wall beside her. “After I take a shower.”
What? He’d started out of the room and froze then turned back. “You can’t get the cast wet.”
“Not breaking news, Dr. Do Right. The ortho doc was very clear on that.”
He could see she was determined to stand and moved the ottoman out of her way. “So it’s going to be a hop-in-and-out kind of thing. Quick.”
“Believe me, no one gets that better than I do.” She pulled herself up awkwardly, winced with discomfort, then arranged the crutches beneath her arms. “But I’m stuck with this obnoxious thing for a while and I have to bathe.”
“Of course. But my sister is off tomorrow. She’s a nurse and could help you—”
“I can handle this, Mason. Don’t try to talk me out of it. Another sponge bath isn’t going to cut it. And I’m going to wash my hair or die trying. So get out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She looked fierce and beautiful and so cute. Something in his chest squeezed tight for a moment, then he laughed at the idea of a little thing like her hurting him.
She glared at him. “It’s not funny. Aft
er two days, I can’t stand myself.”
He could stand her. A lot. What he couldn’t stand was her getting hurt. Seeing her at the bottom of the stairs had taken time off his life and he didn’t want to speculate on how much. Showering on her own was a disaster in the making. She was still getting used to the crutches and learning to balance on one leg to keep her weight off the other. It wouldn’t take much for this to go sideways, literally, real fast.
“Okay. At least let me help you with a strategy. Figure out the steps, pardon the pun, of this operation.”
There was a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Like what?”
“Keeping your cast dry for starters. A few drops on the outside isn’t a big deal. But if you get the inside wet it can lead to a skin infection.”
“That sounds pretty gross,” she agreed. “So what do you have in mind?”
“I’ll be back in a minute. Wait here.”
“Seriously? You don’t want me to hobble along and keep you company?” Letting the crutches take her weight, she stood there with a teasing look in her eyes.
“Right.” He grinned then left the room.
The logistics of this maneuver ran through his mind as he hurried to the kitchen and grabbed the things he wanted. That kept him from thinking too much about Annie naked in the shower except for the lime-green cast on her leg.
Actually the vision popped into his mind anyway, along with the steadily increasing urge to kiss her. If he did, that could be a problem. Clearly she didn’t trust easily and he wouldn’t be another Dwayne in her life who made promises he couldn’t keep.
When he came back to the bathroom, it was empty. “Annie?”
“Coming.” Her soft voice came from the other side of the door. Then she shuffled back into the light wearing a short, pink terry-cloth robe, under which she probably wore nothing.
Sweat popped out on his forehead and he nearly swallowed his tongue. “I thought you were going to stay put.”
“I changed out of my clothes.”
“Yeah. Because that’s what you do when you take a shower.” He sounded like a moron. It’s what happened when blood flow from your brain rerouted to another part of your anatomy.
What Makes A Father (HQR Special Edition) Page 5