His eyes jerked up and he studied her for a long time. "You wouldn't have said that three months ago."
She shook her head. "I didn't know three months ago what it was to love. I was so superior to the rest of the world, you know."
He laughed softly. "Were you?"
"Smug and superior.... I could do without anyone. I'd lost Mandy, and the world along with her. I hated you." She searched his tired face. "Helen said that Sharla doesn't have any children of her own."
There was a tiny rustling movement from the doorway, and the older woman stopped just short of Dana.
"She does...now," Sharla said hesitantly, her hands lifting unsurely, her face quiet, hopeful.
With a tiny, aching cry, Dana ran into those thin arms and felt them enclose her, hold her, cradle her. And she cried until she thought her heart would break, because this woman was the mother she'd always wanted— needed. Without being disloyal to Mandy, whom she'd loved and whom she missed, Sharla was suddenly the rainbow after the storm.
Jack Steele cleared his throat, moving forward to separate the two women. "Let's eat something first," he murmured. "I can't cry on an empty stomach."
"Oh, Dad." Dana laughed through her tears and hugged him.
"Welcome home," he whispered huskily. "Welcome home, little girl."
It was the most wonderful night Dana could remember in years, sitting with her father and stepmother, learning about them, being with them. They were so good together, so secure in their love for each other.
Her opinion of marriage underwent a startling change just from watching them.
Jack didn't ask any pointed questions about the time Dana had been on the coast, but just before they left Helen's house, the two of them walked out ahead of the others and she felt him watching her.
"Helen said you were nursing a blind man," he said after a minute.
"Yes. Gannon van der Vere."
He whistled. "Quite a corporate giant, Mr. van der Vere. He's regained his sight, hasn't he? I saw him on the news the other night."
She nodded. "Yes, he's...he's back at work."
"And quite a changed man," he added dryly.
"Don't look at me—I was just his nurse."
"Really?" He turned, holding her gaze. "You love him, don't you?"
"Desperately," she admitted, feeling a surge of hunger so sweeping that it very nearly made her swoon.
"And how does he feel?"
She lifted her shoulders. "There's a woman.... They were very nearly engaged before his accident. Now they're back together again. He...he loves her, you see."
"I'm sorry," he told her. "Very sorry."
"Don't be. Loving him was an experience I'll never forget. It's enriched my life. In so many ways."
"Yes, I can see that," he replied surprisingly. "You're very different now, Dana. Another woman from the one who left Ashton those weeks ago."
She smiled. "A better one, I hope."
He grinned. "Why don't you go back down there and put a ring on his finger?”
She laughed. "Sounds simple, doesn't it? I'm afraid he's not that kind of man. Our worlds are very different."
"Worlds," he informed her, "can merge."
"Like yours and Sharla's?" she teased Impulsively she hugged him. "I like my new stepmother."
"She likes you too. Let's not drift apart again," he added solemnly. "Let's be a family."
She nodded. "I'd like that very much."
"Dinner with us next Friday?" he asked.
She smiled. "Ask Sharla first"
"Sharla, can we have Dana to dinner next Friday?" he called.
"Don't be silly!" was the instant reply. "My daughter can come to dinner anytime she pleases without having to have invitations. Right, Dana?"
"Right...Mom," she replied softly.
Sharla smiled and turned quickly away, but not before Dana caught the gleam of tears in her eyes.
In the weeks that followed, Dana became a real part of the Steele family, and her life became bright and meaningful as she threw herself back into her work. But the longer she was away from Gannon, the worse the loneliness became.
When Lorraine called her unexpectedly one Wednesday evening, she felt shock wash over her. She'd only been thinking about Gannon and his stepmother a few minutes earlier.
"How are you, my dear?" Lorraine asked softly. "We haven't heard from you, and I just wanted to check and make sure you were all right. How is your aunt?"
Her aunt. The white lie. Dana swallowed. "Oh, Aunt Helen is much better," she said. "And I'm fine too. How about you?"
"I'm doing very well. You know that Gannon could see; you saw him on television? I meant to write you, but I was so excited, and then Dirk came back to help on the computer project.... The house has been overrun with technicians and scientists!"
"I heard about the new invention. I'm so pleased about what Gannon's done," she murmured.
"I'm shocked," Lorraine said flatly. "He's changed so. He's like another man, so caring and concerned. Except for missing you, of course."
"What?"
"Missing you."
"What about Layn?" Dana burst out.
"My dear, she brought him home from Savannah just after you left, and looked like a thundercloud. She took off in a blaze of glory and hasn't been seen since. Gannon hasn't even mentioned her."
"I don't understand," Dana said weakly. She sat down, her legs collapsing.
"Neither do I. And he wasn't staying with Layn in Savannah, by the way. Katy and Maude told on him. He was in the hospital."
"Hospital!"
"He fell, did you know?" Lorraine asked suspiciously.
"Yes," she admitted, feeling relief. "He asked me to leave and not say anything to you about his sight returning. It puzzled me at the time...."
"It's still puzzling me. I tried to pump his doctor, but I can't get anyone to tell me anything. Something's going on, Dana," she added quietly. "Something very strange. He doesn't look at women—not at all. And when he isn't working, he walks along the beach for hours at a time, looking so lonely that I ache for him."
"Maybe he misses Layn," Dana suggested.
"When he talks about no one except you?" Lorraine asked sadly. "My dear, he got his hands on a picture of you and he sits and stares at it like a starving man."
Her heart went wild. "A picture of me? Where?"
"He charmed Mrs. Pibbs out of it," Lorraine laughed. "I don't know where she found it."
Dana did. Mrs. Pibbs had asked for a photograph of her to add to some kind of brochure. Dana had thought it was an unusual request at the time, but she hadn't questioned it. And it had been for Gannon!
"Is he having any trouble at all with his eyes?" Dana asked quickly.
"No, that's the strange thing. No headaches, no blurring, no nothing. But he won't talk about that."
Dana sighed. "No, I don't suppose he likes remembering it."
"Why don't you come down for the weekend?" Lorraine asked.
Dana felt her pulse go sky high. "I don't think—"
'That's right, dear, don't think. Just come. You might consider going to see Dr. Shane while you're about it—and mention that you're going to be nursing Gannon and ask about procedure."
Dana gasped. "That would be highly unethical..." she began.
"Of course it would," Lorraine agreed. "But it would get the truth out of him. I'll take full responsibility. I've got to know, Dana, I've got to!"
She paused, hanging on to the receiver as if it were a lifejacket. "Well..." she began, her heart racing.
"Be daring," Lorraine taunted. "Don't you want to know what he's hiding? Dana, he loves you!"
Her eyes closed at the sound of those words. He loves you. Heaven knew, she loved him—desperately! God forgive me, she murmured silently.
"I'll be there in the morning, after I get through at Dr. Shane's. Could you...sort of call him and pave the way?"
Lorraine laughed softly. "My dear, I'd be delighted. I won't tell Gan
non, but I'll make sure he doesn't leave the house. Have a safe trip, darling."
"See you soon," she replied, and hung up. She was doing the right thing. But if Gannon was hiding something, she had to know what it was. She couldn't let him throw away their happiness without a sound reason. And nothing would be sound enough if it kept her from him—not now, when she knew how horrible life was going to be without him.
Chapter Twelve
Dana had anticipated some problems getting days off to go to the coast, but Mrs. Pibbs waved her off with a rare smile.
"The hospital will run as usual without you, Nurse," she said smoothly.
"How can I thank you...?" Dana began.
"Be happy," came the reply, sincerely. "Let me know how things work out"
Dana frowned slightly. "Have you been talking to Mrs. van der Vere by any chance?" she asked suspiciously.
"Now, why in the world should you think that?" Mrs. Pibbs asked tartly. "Run along and catch your bus, Dana, I'm a busy woman. Have a nice time."
"Thank you," Dana murmured, pausing at the door. "Are you sure...?"
"I'm sure. Good-bye, have a good trip."
She was suspicious about that pleasant grin, but she waved and closed the door behind her.
The hospital was crowded when she reached the coast, and she had to wait an hour before she was allowed in to see Dr. Shane.
He looked harassed and not a little irritable, but he waved her into a chair and sat down heavily.
"Thank God," he muttered, "a chance to breathe. I understand from Lorraine that you're back to nurse Gannon? God knows why, nothing's going to change regardless of your nursing skill, but who am I to argue with him? I never get anywhere at all."
Dana almost grinned but caught herself in time. She folded her hands in the lap of her green shift with its pale green belt, feeling the nails bite into her palms.
"Exactly what is his situation, Dr. Shane?" she asked with forced calm.
He pursed his lips, studying her under a frown. "Lorraine assured me that you were here with Gannon's permission," he observed. "You do realize that if that weren't the case, I'd be breaching his confidence and my oath as well?''
She swallowed. "Yes, sir," she said. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell the truth, to be honest, but something kept her quiet and still.
He shrugged. "Very well, I'll have to take Lorraine's word for it. I wasn't even aware that he'd told her. But then, he's a strange man at times." He pulled a file toward him and opened it. "You know that the shrapnel is inoperable?"
"Yes, sir," she said, which was the truth. She sat stiffly, waiting.
"Well, nothing's changed there. The fall was a stroke of good luck, because it dislodged the shrapnel and relieved the pressure, returning his vision. However," he said, leaning back in the chair solemnly, to pin her with his eyes, "he has no guarantee that the same thing won't happen again and leave him blind."
Her heart stopped—stopped and then ran away. "He could become blind again?" she echoed numbly.
"Of course. There are new advances, you know. Every day we learn more and can do more. But for the present he has to go on living with that sword hanging over him."
"If the shrapnel shifts again," she said slowly, "it could do more than blind him, couldn't it?"
He lifted his hands. "As a nurse, you know as well as I do that anything lodged in the brain is a potential time bomb. But there's nothing medical science can do about it at the present time. I wish that weren't the case. But I'm afraid it is."
"And naturally," she continued, in what seemed a terribly slow voice, "he wouldn't want to ask anyone to share that risk with him."
"Marriage, you mean," he nodded. He sighed. "He said almost that same thing himself. I told him he was being absurd, but he wouldn't listen. Good heavens, Nurse, I could step off a curb and kill myself tomorrow, and there's nothing lodged in my brain!"
She managed a wan smile. "How very odd that he wanted to keep it to himself."
"Not odd at all. It's like him," He closed the file. "Well, that's all I can tell you, unless you want me to read you the medical terminology. He shouldn't participate in any daredevil antics, of course, and things like diving and violent sports are out. Otherwise he can lead a fairly normal life."
"A sneeze could dislodge it, couldn't it?" she asked quietly.
"Yes. Few people outside the medical profession realize how violent a sneeze is." He watched her pale face with interest. "The best thing is not to dwell on it and not to let him dwell on it. There's a man in Vienna working on innovations in brain surgery right now; I expect a breakthrough any day. When it comes—and notice I said when, not if—I'll get in touch with Gannon."
She smiled weakly. "Thank you for telling me."
"Does Gannon know you're here?" he asked kindly.
"If I were here under false pretenses, would I answer that?" she asked, standing.
"No. So I'd better not ask." He took her hand. "Blast him out of his prison, girl. No man has the right to sacrifice himself on a gamble. That piece of shrapnel could stay where it is until he's a hundred and ten years old, for all you or I know."
She nodded. "Now all I have to do is convince him of that." Her eyes darkened. "If I don't murder him first," she added coldly.
He chuckled softly. "Let me know how things work out. 1 love happy endings."
"His may not be so happy," she muttered, gathering speed as she walked out the door, thanking him again before she went stalking down the hall.
She took a cab to the beach house, fuming. He was going to spend the rest of his life living alone because of something that might happen. He was going to make her, and himself, miserable and shut her out of his life and deny her even the choice of staying or going. The more she thought about it, the madder she got. By the time she paid the cab and walked to the front door of the beach house, her face was hot with temper.
Lorraine answered it, and her thin face lit up. She grabbed Dana like a long-lost daughter. "Oh, I was so afraid you'd change your mind, back out. I'm just beside myself that you came anyway!"
"I'm glad too," she replied, hugging Lorraine back. "Dr. Shane told me everything. It's the shrapnel. He could become blind again."
The older woman closed her eyes with a sigh. "So that's it. It explains so much."
"Yes, it does. But it doesn't justify sending me away if he really does care," she added, frowning, because she wasn't sure that he did. She couldn't be.
"If you'll take an old woman's word," Lorraine said softly, "I think he does. Very much."
Dana sighed, afraid now, because the anger was wearing off and leaving desperation in its place. She could have misread the entire situation. It might be Layn he was sparing, not Dana.
"Why don't you walk down to the beach and find him?" Lorraine suggested, her eyes kind. "I think you'll be able to tell one way or another the minute he sees you. What he feels will be in his face, because he isn't expecting you and he won't be prepared."
Dana's heart leaped. "He's on the beach?"
Lorraine nodded. "About halfway down, sitting on a log, glowering at the ocean. Go on. Be daring. What have you got to lose?"
There was the question. She had nothing to lose, because without Gannon there was nothing she minded losing. She pulled her shoulders back and laid her purse down on the hall table.
"Wish me luck, will you?" she asked the older woman. "I think I may need it"
"All the luck in the world, my dear." Lorraine gave her a push. "Go on. You'll never know until you face him."
"I may see you again very soon."
"If you don't, I won't wait lunch," came the dry reply.
Dana walked through the house and down the back steps with her heart hammering wildly at her throat. She paused at the top of the staircase that led down to the beach, and looked down until her eyes found Gannon.
His back was to her. He was wearing white slacks and a blue and white patterned tropical shirt, and his head was bowed in the s
unlight. He looked so alone, so bitterly alone, that she felt like crying. That gave her the courage she needed to go down the steps and walk along the beach toward him. Her heart was hammering wildly at her throat like a trapped bird trying to be free, while the waves crashed onto the beach and the sun burned down on the white sand.
Dana's footsteps were muffled by the sound of the surf as she approached the big blond man sitting on the log. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. Would he be glad to see her? Or would he just be shocked and annoyed?
She paused just behind him. Her hand lifted and then fell. "Gannon?" she called softly.
His head jerked up. When he saw her, he seemed to go rigid all over. His eyes took her in from head to toe and back again, noting the emerald-green dress, her face in its frame of pale, loosened hair, her wide, searching eyes.
"Dana?" he whispered, standing.
"Yes," she said simply. Her own eyes were busy reconciling the man she saw with her memory of him. He looked thinner somehow, worn, but the sight of him fed her poor, starved eyes.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I, uh, I came to see Lorraine," she hedged, words failing her.
His chest rose and fell heavily. "Was that the only reason?"
Her lower lip trembled and she caught it between her teeth. "No," she replied with a shaky smile. "I...came to see you too."
"You look very thin," he said in a tight voice, studying her slenderness again. "Is that new?"
"The dress? No, it's an old one."
"The thinness, not the dress," he said harshly. "Why should I care about what you wear?"
"Why should you care about me, period?" she burst out, anger coming to her rescue. "Not a single phone call, not a card...I could have died and you wouldn't have known or cared!"
"That's a lie," he shot back, his face pale. "I kept up with you through Mrs. Pibbs. I knew how you were, at least. You couldn't even be bothered to write to Lorraine, could you?"
"Why should I, when you sent me away?" she tossed back, hurting all the way to her bones. "You sent me away!"
"I had to," he ground out, his face contorting as he saw the hurt on her eyes. "You don't understand."
"Yes, I do," she cried angrily. "You sent me away because of the shrapnel!"
Books By Diana Palmer Page 226