It surprised Chad how much the comment bothered him. "Don't bury yourself yet, old man. While you're lying here counting away your minutes, medicine's making great strides."
The dry laugh ended in a cough. "You didn't used to be an optimist."
He still wasn't. But he was more open to the idea that sometimes things did go right. And open to the idea that sometimes people needed hope instead of cold, comfortless facts. "Things change."
His father looked at him for a long moment, as if searching for something.
"Yeah," he finally said, "they do." Guilt etched his features. "Look, boy, great medical strides aside, I don't know how much longer I have. I want to tell you… About what happened, I—"
Chad waved his hand, dismissing words that refused to form. "It's in the past. No sense revisiting it, right?"
"Right," his father agreed. "But I still want to say I'm sorry. For everything."
Chad resisted the temptation to say that being sorry didn't change the past. Because it might change the future.
"Okay, you've said it. Now concentrate on getting your strength back." A nurse looked into the room, her manner silently encouraging Chad to take his leave. Visiting hours were over. Relieved, he began edging toward the door. "Well, I'd better be heading out. Like I said, I just wanted to stop by to look in on you."
His father was almost pitifully grateful. "I appreciate it, Chad. I really do."
Maybe he did, Chad thought. Self-conscious, he shrugged away the gratitude. "Let me know if you need anything."
Jerome was all but beaming as he looked at the son he had wronged. The son who had finally forgiven him. "I already got it."
Chad didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to respond. He mumbled his goodbye and left.
Feeling oddly good for a man who was admittedly pretty miserable.
He couldn't collect his thoughts. They kept drifting away from him like clouds traveling across a clear spring sky, going where he couldn't reach them.
Just like the past few days.
He'd lost track of what day it was. Even the calendar on his desk didn't help. He'd only managed to stare at it blankly.
Hitting the backspace button on his keyboard, he deleted everything he'd attempted to write in the past half hour. A line and a half.
"Want some time off?"
He looked up, surprised to see Cade standing in his doorway. Normally, Chad was keenly aware of his surroundings. Being caught off guard wasn't like him. He was far too preoccupied for his own liking. It had to stop.
But when?
"No," Chad answered, looking back at the blank screen. "Why?"
Cade moved into the room, concerned. "Because you seem a little off your game. You've earned the time, you know, if you want to take it."
Chad began to hunt and peck again, making yet another attempt to write an overdue report on the case that had come before Veronica's. "I don't want to take it," he said curtly. "I just want to go on working."
"It doesn't really work, you know."
Chad looked up. "What doesn't?"
Cade gestured toward the computer and the stack of paper around it. "Trying to bury yourself in work. You've got to come up for air sometime, and that's when it hits you."
He spoke from experience. The agency had been founded because he wanted to find his own missing son, and until that day came, he'd wanted to keep so busy he didn't have time to think. But thoughts came, anyway.
"Whatever it is you're trying to get away from grabs you right by the throat and hangs on." He shook his head at the memory. "I should know."
Chad was well aware of Cade's story, of the years that had gone by before Darin had finally been found. "No offense, but this isn't the same thing."
Cade rested his hip against Chad's desk, his arms folded across his chest. "Oh, I don't know, trying to run from whatever it is that's bothering you is always the same thing. Want my advice?" He didn't wait for Chad to answer. "Deal with it. Or with her."
Chad's back went up instantly. "What makes you think it's a her?"
If Cade had doubted it before, Chad's reaction clinched it. "Because Veronica Lancaster had the same look on her face you do now when she stopped by here yesterday."
"She was here?" What had she been doing here? He thought of Casey. Had someone else taken him?
"She came by to give me a letter of praise to put into your file. I didn't bother telling her I didn't keep files on my partners. The letter's in my office if you want to see it."
Chad shook his head. Seeing it would only prolong a link that was better off broken.
"I got the distinct impression she was hoping to bump into you." Cade began to walk out of Chad's office. "Why don't you see if you can bump into her?"
He made it sound so easy, Chad thought, irritated. "Because she's champagne, and I'm beer."
Cade didn't see it that way, but didn't bother stating it. He went for the obvious. "They can still be served at the same party. And who knows, maybe you can come up with a new drink."
Cade walked out, leaving Chad with something to think about.
If he did any more thinking, his head was going to fall off.
Getting behind the wheel of his car, Chad had every intention of just going home and calling it a day.
But the prospect of facing another night tossing and turning, staring at his ceiling, had him heading his car east, instead of west. Before he could finish calling himself several kinds of fool, he was pulling into her driveway.
The instant he shut off the engine, the front door opened.
He expected to see Angela, but it wasn't the housekeeper who walked out. It was Veronica.
He couldn't read her expression.
For the first time in a week, her heart felt as if it was thawing out. He was here. Finally. "Took your time getting here."
He didn't follow her. "You were expecting me?"
She shook her head as she threaded an arm through his and began to draw him inside. She'd been passing the window when she'd seen his car pull up. It had felt like Christmas. "Not so much expecting as hoping."
Stopping at the front doorstep, he stood his ground, not knowing exactly what that ground was. Only that he needed to be honest with her. "Look, Veronica, I came here because I can't seem to get you out of my mind."
She studied his expression. "You're saying that as if it's a bad thing."
"Well, isn't it?" After all, thinking about her was only driving him crazy.
So was that it? she wondered. Was he trying to get her out of his mind? To forget about her? The thought hurt. "You tell me."
A note of recrimination crept into his voice. "Isn't it wrong to torture yourself, wanting something you know you can't have?"
The wind whipped her hair into her face, and she pushed it back, never taking her eyes off Chad. "You're making assumptions, aren't you?"
"Assumptions?" He wasn't assuming anything. It was all true.
"About wanting something you can't have." She saw she wasn't getting through to him. For a smart man, he could be awfully dense. "Who said anything about 'can't?' I don't recall any offers being turned down." She looked at him significantly. "Or being made."
"They weren't made because they'd be turned down." Wouldn't they? he began to wonder. No, he was just setting himself up to be disappointed. Guys like him didn't get to live happily ever after with the woman of their choice. Not when that woman was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
She didn't know whether to hug him or kick him. "Just because you're my hero doesn't give you the right to play God."
"God?"
"God," she repeated, then added, "All knowing—because you're not. You just proved it."
Was she saying what he thought she was saying? It seemed too incredible. And yet… "So if I asked if I could come by sometime, you'd say yes?"
"Yes." The word burst through the sudden bright smile on her lips.
Refusing to allow himself to get carried away, he proceed
ed slowly. But hope began to build in the hollow spot in his chest. "And if I said I wanted to make love with you again…"
Her eyes were bright. "Yes, again."
He went for broke. "And if I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you…"
Unable to hold back any longer, Veronica threw her arms around his neck. "Yes, oh, yes!"
His arms closed around her. She felt so good like this. "Do you know what you're getting into?"
"Yes." Her eyes spoke volumes as she looked up at him. And suddenly he understood, "Into a relationship with a man I not only respect, but lo—"
Chad pressed his finger to her lips, silencing her. She looked at him, confused. "I get to say it first."
"'It'?" she teased as a lighthearted feeling slipped over her.
"It," he echoed. "The L-word." He grew serious. More serious than he had ever been. "I love you, Veronica. I didn't know what loving someone was until I met you. It's this incredible ache you want to nurture because it makes you feel more alive than you've ever felt before. I stayed away because I didn't think I had a prayer of your feeling the same for me."
She could only smile at him as she shook her head. "I guess that means you're not the perfect investigator, after all. Because I do."
A warmth surged through him. He indicated her front door. "Want to go inside? It's chilly out here for you."
She didn't feel cold at all, not anymore. "That all depends on which side of your arms I'm standing on."
He tightened his arms around her. "The right side. Finally, the right side."
She couldn't argue with that. Especially not when her mouth was otherwise occupied.
It didn't feel cold anymore.
Look for AN UNCOMMON HERO,
the next installment in Marie Ferrarella's popular miniseries,
CHILDFINDERS, INC.,
available in January 2001 from Silhouette Books.
Hero for Hire Page 17