The Hero's Sweetheart

by Cheryl Wyatt

  Jack tried to look at the speech tablet, feeling a little more irritated than he should that Dad had shut the audio back off. What on earth? He probably didn’t want to know what was said, especially since it was clearly about him.

  So why was he wasting another second obsessing about it?

  He studied Olivia’s face for clues. She dipped her head and suddenly found the fringe of her patchwork satchel purse very interesting. No help there.

  “I need to get to work,” Olivia said, and leaned in to hug Sully once more. “I’ll come say ’bye before I leave.”

  Sully nodded. “Love you, Liver.”

  That was clear enough.

  She leaned in to give him another hug. “Love you, too, Sully. Glad you’re getting better.”

  That Olivia didn’t let Sully know that Jack was giving her a ride home indicated that she, too, wasn’t keen on Sully getting ideas they were together any more than they had to be.

  As Jack watched them, he worried. If Dad had the notion that he and Olivia should be a couple, well, that could be a serious problem. Jack hoped it was just a passing fad with Dad and that he’d forget about it. Sooner rather than later would be good. But the twinkle in Sully’s eye as he watched Jack watch Olivia told Jack he wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

  Great.

  One more thing to contend with.

  The fact that Jack wasn’t actually thoroughly opposed to the idea, well, that could be the biggest problem of all.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” the speech pathologist said. “Use your tablet.”

  Sully nodded and she smiled at Jack and Olivia as she left.

  A physical therapist entered next to do Sully’s evening round of exercises.

  “I need to get to work, Sully, and let you get your therapy done so you can rest. See you soon,” Olivia said and stepped out without looking at Jack.

  “Woc-a-watt.” Sully nodded sternly to the door. Jack knew exactly what his dad had said without the help of the tablet. Walk her out.

  A few steps down the hall, Jack caught up to Olivia before she reached the desk. He examined his watch, knowing she had a few minutes yet before she had to report to the trauma bay section. Not that he’d been paying attention to her schedule and whereabouts.

  Okay, maybe he had a little.

  She peered up, surprise evident that he walked alongside her. “I’m going to get a soda,” he hedged. “You want one?”

  He thought she’d say no, but she glanced at her bracelet watch and then shrugged. “Sure. I have about five minutes. Soda sounds good.”

  “So, are you not going to tell me what was on the tablet there at the end?” Jack teased.

  “Nope.” She straightened as though prepared to battle it out, yet something in her countenance spoke of embarrassment.

  “It’s natural that my dad’s probably going to try to play matchmaker. It’s nothing to feel uptight or ridiculed over.” Jack truly wanted to ease her obvious discomfort. “I apologize for his orneriness and lack of covertness.”

  “Look, Jack. Contrary to what you may think, what he said didn’t offend me. Any other woman in the world would be glad to have you. You’re a great guy.”

  “Ouch.” He laughed. “Any other woman?”

  She shook her head, tension leaving her face at how that probably sounded. “I just meant that I know you’d never go out with me, not in a million years. So no apology necessary.”

  Jack paused and studied her. A million years? Recalling the great regard with which she held his dad, and for all of Jack’s run-ins with her, all of which she’d weathered like a trouper, Jack realized that a million years suddenly didn’t seem so far away. How he was going to deal with that sudden revelation, he wasn’t quite sure.

  After buying the sodas, which Olivia tried to protest once she saw that Jack intended to pay for hers, Jack handed her the one she’d chosen. Surprisingly her choice was his favorite beverage, too. They disagreed on so much that it always delighted him to find something they actually agreed on. Such as soda and ice cream flavors. Plus their mutual love for his dad, and saving the diner even if they did have different ideas about how to go about each.

  She popped the top of her soft drink and took a swig, and Jack did, as well, while watching her drink. He’d barely swallowed before humor bubbled up from some unknown place.

  Her eyes brightened with mirth. “What?”

  “Liver?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Be quiet, Jug Bug.”

  Jack laughed. And Olivia joined him. Then, leaning against the vending machine, they both grew serious.

  “I’m so glad he’s still with us,” Olivia whispered. “I’ll take Liver any day over never hearing his voice again.” Emotion flooded her face as she raised it to peer at Jack’s.

  The deep emotion in her expression reflected what Jack felt inside and no other words were necessary for understanding their mutual care, gratitude and love for Sully. He didn’t know all that this special moment meant, just that it was momentous and pivotal. It built a bond between them that they’d remember years from now—it was that powerful.

  It hit him hard and unexpectedly. He felt his throat knot up and a sting surfaced behind his own eyes.

  The thought of his dad not being here, Jack couldn’t fathom. He knew Olivia shared the sentiment.

  He held her gaze and smiled in kind. Then he surprised himself by reaching for her hand, so soft and small in his. “Yeah. I know just what you mean. I’ll take him, ornery and surly and snoopy in our love lives and stubborn, as opposed to not having him here at all.” He squeezed her hand.

  She smiled, nodding through her vivid smile, then rather reluctantly extracted her hand from his. “I should go.”

  Jack had only intended his touch to show solidarity and empathy. But when he’d taken her hand, their bond had deepened. He surely hadn’t anticipated or expected that.

  He wanted to offer to walk her down to the trauma bays. But...why? Maybe he didn’t want the moment to end just yet. Confusion swirled in the wake of his inability to reason it out.

  These emotions were foreign and they made no sense to him. He didn’t much trust the softening shift inside of his heart toward Olivia. Probably it was just the shared emotion over Dad and nothing to be concerned about. After all, what harm could come from bonding over the blessing of a life nearly lost and yet blessedly not?

  “See you in four hours?” he asked.

  She studied his hands, which were fiddling with his soda, before finally meeting his eyes. “I’ll come up to the room when I’m done. That way you’re not waiting on me and you can spend as much time with him as possible while he’s awake and lucid.”

  Jack grinned. “Sometimes I can see right through you.”

  She looked up, eyebrows furrowing.

  “That’s not always a bad thing, you know. It’s okay to admit that you want to see him again before you go.”

  She held his gaze now. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.”

  He shrugged. “I’m warming up to the idea. I’m a little slow to come around sometimes. But I usually always come to my senses on something that really matters.”

  Her eyes widened at his words and she quickly sipped her soda to hide what he perceived as a gaspy little grin.

  The mystery of a woman’s mind. Jack shook his head and smiled, knowing he’d probably never figure out what she found funny about what he’d just said.

  When Jack got back to the room to find his dad resting after therapy, he settled into the chair next to his father’s bed. Comforted by the sound of Sully’s easy breaths, Jack reached to click the overhead light off, intending to catch a catnap himself. The angle put the tablet in view and Jack found the temptation a little too much to resist.

  His eyes scanned
the last sentence in the tablet and he didn’t know whether to laugh or leave town. The cryptic message Sully had typed and not let Jack see was, “He’s a little slow to realize what’s best for him at times, but I believe in my heart he’ll eventually come around to seeing I’m right.”

  The tablet screen displayed almost word for word what Jack had said in the vending room to Olivia about himself and coming around to being okay with her closeness with Sully.

  Only the tablet version had referred to Dad’s notion that Olivia would make a great mom and wife. And Jack agreed wholeheartedly. She would.

  Just not for him.

  The military, rather than marriage, had long been and still remained Jack’s first priority.

  That it held less appeal by the day, well, that was just a temporary wrinkle that would be ironed out in time, as Dad’s health improved and things with the diner got sorted out.

  He just wished he were as sure of that as he wanted to be.

  Chapter Nine

  “You have to tell him,” Patrice told Olivia the next morning as she brought her a washcloth to ease the nausea. Olivia had stayed up so late studying that she was ill. She knew Patrice was right. Jack needed to know the extent of her issues and her special needs. She couldn’t keep doing this. She couldn’t keep up this crazy schedule. It wasn’t working. Not only was she failing, her health was taking a nosedive. How could she take care of others if she couldn’t take care of herself?

  She’d barely passed her last quiz in her strongest class. Her grades were going down the tubes. If she didn’t turn things around this week, she’d be out of the program. “I will. Today.”

  “In the meantime, you’re calling in sick and you’re going to stay in bed all day.”

  Olivia wanted to protest, but in truth, her trembling legs and achy head told her that Patrice was right. She could barely brush her teeth, much less wait on customers on one of the busiest days of the week. Rest was in order.

  She had never called in sick and had plenty of sick leave accrued. Jack had not let employees donate their sick days and hours, just their vacation time. So she could take the day off and probably be better off without missing pay. “Okay, but I’ll call and tell him.”

  “How? Your voice is almost gone.”

  She nodded. Her throat was scratchy. “Maybe this is more than fatigue.”

  Patrice placed her hand on Olivia’s forehead. “I think you’re right. You’re probably coming down with something. Let me tell Jack you won’t be in today.”

  “Fine, but don’t tell him anything about my comprehension problem. Pretty sure he knows about my dyslexia, unless he assumed the pamphlet was for school. I’ll talk to him about all of it as soon as I’m able to come back to work.”

  “I’d do it before then. He is getting ready to hire some new people and that would be a good time for him to rearrange your hours to give you a break.”

  Olivia felt defeat weigh her down. She didn’t want special treatment, but the truth was that everyone needed help sometimes. She’d be stupid not to take it if he was willing to work with her. She wanted to be a paramedic—she’d never reach that dream if she didn’t get more rest and stay well.

  She nodded in resignation to Patrice. “Okay. I’ll stay in bed today. I probably need to skip clinical, too.” She could always make that up by staying late three or four days next week.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you.” Olivia tried to stand and grew dizzy. “Can you help me to the restroom?”

  Patrice nodded and helped her down the hall. “If you’re ill, it may be a few days before you can return to work, class or clinic.”

  Olivia nodded, knowing she was right but hating it nonetheless. She let Patrice help her from the bathroom back to her bed. She curled back into the covers, never so glad to hug her pillow in all her life. “Thank you,” she said as her friend tucked the blankets in around her. That she could sleep in today was a truly beloved bliss she hadn’t encountered in over a year. Hopefully proper sleep would chase away this headache. Come to think of it, her body ached, too. All over.

  “You’ve done this for me many times, like that time I had mono.” Patrice pulled Olivia’s lamp closer to her bed. “I’m glad to help you for a change.”

  Olivia nodded, trying to stay awake, but the bed had a sedative effect. Or she was just that tired. Patrice came back in with a glass of ice water. She set Olivia’s phone on the nightstand and said, “Text me if you need anything. I’ll be a quick minute away.”

  Olivia drifted off knowing Patrice would keep her word. She’d have her phone with her at all times while working double time down at the diner in Olivia’s absence. Patrice was a very caring friend. Throat sore, Olivia sent mental prayers up for God to rescue Patrice from the toxic relationship she was in if her boyfriend was never going to change for the better. God would know.

  At least Patrice was seeing a counselor and spending less time with Frankie.

  Olivia swallowed the two Tylenol tablets Patrice had set near the water and snuggled deeper into the comfort of her bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

  What felt like a couple hours later she heard voices. Male and female. Ugh. Had Patrice brought her boyfriend here? Olivia hoped not. The man spoke again. Something about leaving it in the fridge.

  Wait. That voice. Not Frankie’s. Jack’s. What was he doing here?

  Olivia wondered if Sully was okay today. What if she’d had a virus brewing days before and made him sick? She summoned the strength to reach for her phone and texted Patrice. Is that Jack I hear?

  Yes.

  Sully ok?

  Yep. U decent?

  Yes, why?

  Jack wonders if U R up 4 company?

  “Really? Weird,” Olivia said, realizing how gravelly her voice sounded.

  She texted back, Um, well, I’m sure I’m sick, and not just tired.

  He says he’ll take his chances, Patrice texted back a moment later.

  Jack’s words via Patrice’s text sent a warm fuzzy feeling through Olivia.

  There was a knock, then his handsome face appeared. She really must be delirious because he looked a thousand times better today than every other day. And he was pretty handsome as it was.

  “Hey, kiddo. I hear you’re under the weather.”

  Kiddo? Olivia bristled at that. He was only three or four years older than she.

  She sneezed into a tissue then put it into an old popcorn bucket and sanitized her hands. “Yeah. A little cold and just really tired.”

  “Mind if I come in for a bit?”

  “I don’t want to get you sick. I’m worried I exposed your dad to illness. Though I felt well yesterday.”

  “He’s fine.” Jack stepped in, despite her concern of being contagious. She tried to sit up.

  “No, stay in bed. I just wanted to let you know there’s some chicken soup in the fridge for when you feel up to eating it.”

  Surprise went through her. “Chicken soup. Like from a can?”

  Jack eased onto the footstool next to her bed and smiled. “No, like chicken soup made from scratch for an ill employee.” He slid a box of tissues closer when she reached for it.

  She’d have rather he called her a friend than an employee but he’d drawn that line.

  “Okay, friend, then,” Jack said with a strange smile.

  She blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Concern and humor filled Jack’s eyes. “About wanting to be called a friend? Yep.” He dipped a cloth in the cool bowl of ice water Patrice must have brought in at some point. He wrung it out and dabbed it across Olivia’s forehead.

  “That feels good. Even though I’m freezing.”

  “Your skin feels hot.” He frowned. “You look glassy-eyed and
feverish.”

  “I’m probably just dehydrated. Chicken soup sounds good, actually.” She did feel hungry. That was positive, right?

  “It’s still warm. Would you like a cup now?”

  “Sure.” She started to pull the covers off to swing her legs over the side of the bed when Jack’s hand rested on her shoulder.

  “I’ll get it. You stay here.”

  Olivia obeyed simply because the thought of moving seemed impossible right now. Her legs felt like lead and her head as if someone was smashing bricks inside of it. Her muscles ached all over and her throat felt as though someone had taken a torch to it. This definitely was more than lack of sleep and simple fatigue.

  When Jack returned a moment later, he had the soup on a tray with a diner napkin, salt and pepper, some crackers on a saucer and a steaming cup of what smelled like peppermint tea.

  Her stomach growled, but her throat protested the first swallow. “Ow.”

  “Too hot?”

  “No. Throat hurts.” She sipped more broth, not trusting herself to be able to swallow anything solid. She truly felt lousy. “This is really good.” The soup’s flavor was amazing. The salty warmth soothed her throat. Maybe she should gargle salt water. She opted for another sip of broth. “So good,” she said. Some dribbled down her chin because of the angle at which she drank, plus only half sitting up.

  Jack reached over and dabbed the moisture off with the napkin. He brushed the soft cotton across the curve of her lip, then to the side where she’d missed a spot. His gaze followed his motions, moving from her chin to her mouth and up to her eyes, where it settled. His smile deepened. This close, she could see the tiny whiskers in his dimples that his razor missed, and the scar on the edge of his manly chin.

  “You smell good.” Somewhere in the rational part of her mind, Olivia knew she’d never have spoken such a thing if her mind wasn’t woozy. Somehow his cologne made breathing easier. Her gaze settled back on his chin scar, which stretched with his killer smile.

  She remembered Sully saying he’d been hit by a flying baseball bat in sixth grade and needed seven stitches there. The worst part was that the girl who’d thrown the bat during an unexpected home-run hit was a girl Jack had had a crush on forever.