Later, when Phoebe began stirring in his arms, he immediately began to hum. He wanted to make sure that she awoke to the sound of his voice and felt safe. He didn’t want her first waking thought to be one of fear. Not even for a minute. Not even for a moment.
Phoebe’s eyelids fluttered. She peered up at him through her lashes.
“Hello,” he said, chuckling gently as she stretched and yawned. “Did you sleep well?”
Nodding, she nestled her head against his chest and asked in a drowsy voice, “Read more?”
“Sure thing.” Resting his cheek lightly against her hair, he began to read another chapter.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
When they arrived at the waterfall, Zeke watched as Nicole went speechless with delight. He didn’t blame her. The thundering cascade fell from a height of thirty feet and swirled down into a churning pool. The fall’s rushing whitewater raced over boulders and joined with the gentle brook they were walking beside, transforming it into a river teeming with rapids. The pulsing sound of the rushing water and the slight refreshing mist were dizzying to the senses.
Nicole turned to him with shining eyes. “This exact spot is going to be the subject of my next painting. It’s glorious!”
“I’m glad you think so, I…”
His words trailed away as Nicole’s face took on a preoccupied look. Realizing what was happening, he placed his jacket on a boulder and guided her gently to the makeshift seat. When she was settled, he placed her sketchpad in her hands. Immediately, she began drawing with firm, bold lines. After a few minutes, she began adding soft, feathery details. With a proud smile tugging his lips, Zeke watched her work.
* * *
Alex’s warm tones came alive as he read his novel to Phoebe. He was enjoying the experience just as much as she obviously was. When he came to a particularly funny part, he glanced down and saw her uninjured eye twinkling in appreciation.
Suddenly, a knock on the door ended their fun. Phoebe jumped violently and buried her head against his shirt.
“Shh,” he whispered as he felt her tremble. “It’s only Katie with my lunch. You’re safe.”
Phoebe nodded but kept her head down.
Knowing that her fear was a result of deep trauma, Alex’s heart twisted. Running his hand gently over her hair, he murmured again, “You’re safe.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Katie said, entering the room with a tray.
“That’s okay,” Alex said, tightening his arms around Phoebe.
Placing the tray by his elbow, Katie knelt beside the chair. “Phoebe,” she said quietly, “do you need anything?”
Even though she was trembling violently, Phoebe smiled and replied, “No, thank you.”
Alex, recognizing the effort it had taken Phoebe to respond, murmured with pride, “That’s my precious girl!”
As soon as the words left his lips, Alex felt shock jolting through his chest. Although it wasn’t logical, he meant every word. He was starting to see Phoebe as his girl, and she was becoming extremely precious to him.
Phoebe blinked up at him. His words had obviously taken her by surprise as well. After a moment, she began to smile and her trembling lessened.
Katie stood to her feet. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need anything, just let me know.”
As the door closed behind the nurse, Alex cleared his throat. “Do you trust me to eat lunch with you on my lap, or shall we move you to the bed?”
“I trust you,” Phoebe said softly—and meaningfully.
Alex felt his breath catch.
Phoebe was still being fed intravenously, but when he began eating his gelatin, she looked so intently at his spoon that he asked, “Do you want some?”
She gave an emphatic nod.
Alex laughed. Holding her in the crook of his arm, he fed her gelatin and was delighted at the smile it brought to her face. “I’ll remember cherry gelatin’s one of your favorites and order twice as much next time,” he teased. “You aren’t leaving me any.”
Grinning, Phoebe grabbed his hand and wrestled the spoon weakly from his grip. Her uninjured eye twinkled as she dipped the spoon in the gelatin and brought it to his lips. A dimple peeped out in Alex’s cheek as he slurped it up in the noisiest way possible.
“Cherry gelatin’s my favorite too,” he said with a grin. Putting a gentle hand over hers, he steadied the spoon and carefully licked both sides. “Mmm…good!”
Looking at the bowl, he made a hopeful face. Phoebe’s smile grew as she scooped up more gelatin. When she raised the spoon to his lips, he slurped up the jiggling mass even more noisily than before. Phoebe began to giggle. Alex thought he’d never heard a more beautiful sound.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
A small, furtive noise jolted Peter awake. It was a quiet sound, but in the smothering darkness, it was as loud as thunder rolling across the sky.
Laura began stirring in his arms.
“Shh!” he whispered urgently. “Don’t make a sound.”
He felt Laura raising her head from his chest. Another soft sound came from the direction of the door. Putting his lips to her ear, he breathed, “Spider’s coming. Go hide in the corner.”
He felt her nod and slip from his arms. In one swift motion, Peter reached for his wire and sprinted across the floor. His heart began to pound as he stood behind the door and held the wire ready.
* * *
With her finished sketch on her lap, Nicole gazed dreamily at the falls. Beside her, Zeke waved a chocolate bar beneath her nose. “Hey there, pretty lady—all done? I’ve set out a picnic lunch, and the food’s waiting, and my stomach’s grumbling.”
Blinking away daydreams, she laughed. “Dessert first? I thought you didn’t approve of that.”
“I’ll let you nibble some candy as long as you promise not to spoil your appetite.”
Nicole’s eyes twinkled as she took a bite. She sighed in pleasure as the chocolate shell broke and caramel trickled across her tongue. Strolling over to the picnic blanket, she spotted a stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Motioning toward them, she said, “PB and Js happen to be my favorite.”
“Mine too.” Zeke grinned. “They’re manna from heaven, and I cut off the crusts to show that I care.”
“Point noted and appreciated.” She chuckled, sitting down and tucking her feet beneath her.
Taking her hand, Zeke asked the blessing over their food.
Nicole had to admit that she had more fun during that meal of PB and Js than she’d had with Brandon at five star restaurants. Zeke was good company and a good host. When the leftovers were packed away, she watched as he lay down and patted the blanket beside him.
“Come here,” he murmured.
Nicole peered at him uneasily, wondering if he was about to make an inappropriate advance.
“Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “I won’t lay a romantic hand on you.”
Nicole felt a stab of disappointment that didn’t make sense considering her earlier misgivings. She tried to bridle her curiosity but lost the battle. “You won’t? Not ever?”
“Never,” he said flatly.
Nicole felt her disappointment deepening. “Oh.”
Zeke laughed. “That is, I’ll never touch you until you give me permission. You’re gonna have to make the first move—remember that.” He gave the blanket another pat. “Now, come over here. There’s something I want to show you.”
Shrugging her shoulders slightly, she lay beside him, using his outstretched arm as a pillow.
“What do you see?” he asked, peering over at her as she looked up at the sky.
“Clouds and tree branches,” she replied, glancing back at him.
“Oh, Nicole, look again. I see a hippo with a big bowtie.” Smiling, he pointed out the cloud picture.
Her musical laughter filled the air. “Look! Now it’s a mouse on roller skates.”
For the next several minutes, they traced pictures in the clouds, laughing in delight as they pointed o
ut shapes. When the clouds blew away and all that was left was an empty arena of blue, Zeke closed his eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.” He yawned.
Nicole sat up swiftly. “I’ve never had a date fall asleep on me before.”
“That’s because they were trying to impress you.”
“And you aren’t?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“I’m not sure how to take that,” she replied a bit ruefully.
He opened a gleaming eye. “Take it as the compliment it is. Good friends don’t need to impress each other.” He yawned again. “If I’m still asleep, give me a nudge in fifteen minutes.”
She blinked at him, looking at his relaxed face and closed eyes with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You really are an unusual man, aren’t you?”
“Shh!” Zeke chuckled. “I’m trying to sleep.
Nicole’s lips collapsed into a reluctant grin. Picking up her sketchpad, she began using her considerable talent to capture Zeke as he was stretched out—long and lazy—exuding comfort from every pore. When she was satisfied with her drawing, she turned to a new page.
Her eyes roved over his form and focused on his hands. They looked like they belonged to a manual laborer rather than a computer tech. She wondered what his hobbies were and if they contributed to his calluses. She continued to study him. His fingers were long and artistic. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he played the piano or perhaps the guitar.
As she drew his hands, she had a breathtaking vision of what a romantic touch from him would feel like. With sudden insight, she knew that Zeke’s hands would be strong and masculine, yet infinitely gentle. A delighted shiver ran down her back.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she turned to another page. Looking at Zeke’s shoulders, she tapped her lips with her pencil. Although his frame was long and lean, as she studied it with her trained eye, she realized it was actually quite muscular.
Forcibly ripping her eyes from his chest, she began sketching his chin—strong and chiseled with just a hint of a cleft. When she had his chin just right, she sketched his mouth—tender and slightly smiling with a dent above the upper lip that seemed begging to be kissed.
Making an impatient sound at the way her thoughts were running away with her, she began drawing his nose as a way of steadying herself. After sketching it from several angles, she finally decided that drawing a flattering picture of that dreadful nose was absolutely impossible. It was pointed, crooked, and horribly large. She’d heard a joke about a person being able to spear a pickle in a pickle jar with their schnoz, and she knew that if anyone had a chance of accomplishing that feat, it’d be Zeke.
Giving up on his nose, she moved on to his cheekbones—they were high and well-defined. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had Native American blood flowing through his veins. As she sketched his bone structure, she decided he looked unmistakably Cherokee.
She couldn’t see his eyes—his glasses were like mirrors in the sunshine—so she moved on to his forehead, focusing on how his hair sprang from his hairline in a crisp way that delighted her. His hair was dark and thick, and it curled slightly around his ears. Most men didn’t look good in long hair, but she had a feeling that long hair on Zeke would actually look fitting.
Thumbing through her sketches, she noticed that even if Zeke wasn’t overtly handsome, he had many attractive parts. She sighed. If he just didn’t have that awful nose!
A chuckle interrupted her thoughts.
“Can I move yet?” Zeke asked. “Or are you still sketching?”
Nicole looked at him—her face reddening. With a self-conscious start, she realized she hadn’t been able to see if his eyes were open behind his glasses—she’d just assumed they were closed. He was an observant man, and she wondered what thoughts he’d managed to discern on her face.
She partly found out when he chuckled and said, “My nose is pretty terrible, isn’t it? When it has an expert artist wrinkling up her pretty forehead in despair, it can’t be good.”
Her blush deepened as she realized she’d been caught rudely staring—in actual fact, ogling. She wrestled with embarrassment and then began to laugh, allowing herself to enjoy the ridiculousness of the situation. After all, Zeke didn’t seem bothered by it. He seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing.
“Your nose is pretty bad,” she admitted, “but you have other features that are quite handsome—your chin, mouth, and cheekbones for instance. Are you part Cherokee?”
He sat up and smiled. “Half. Can you guess the other half?”
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “German and Irish?”
“Spot on. Jolly good show.”
“Have you ever had long hair?” she asked.
“It was below my shoulders all through college. I only cut it when I decided it was time to turn professional. Why? Do you think it’d look better long?”
She nodded. “Most men can’t get away with long hair, but you could easily pull it off.”
Scooting next to her, he thumbed through her sketches, studying the way she’d captured his features. “These are good, Nicole, really good.” He chuckled. “Even the ones of my nose.”
She blushed at his praise. “I used to paint portraits, and one summer, I worked as an artist in the park. It gave me lots of practice.”
He paused at the sketch of his hands. Nicole sincerely hoped that he couldn’t tell what she’d been thinking when she’d drawn it.
“You didn’t sketch my eyes,” he said, looking up. “Why?”
“Couldn’t see them,” she admitted. “The sun was reflecting off your glasses.”
“Well, you might as well sketch them now.” Removing his glasses, he grinned. “If you’re going to do something, you should do a complete job.”
Smiling, she picked up her pencil and turned to a new page.
Without his thick glasses, she could see Zeke’s eyes clearly for the first time. They were brimming with decency, compassion, and honesty. Her heart did a cartwheel. She’d thought his mouth and hands were his best features, but they were eclipsed by his eyes. She captured his eyes’ shape and character with her pencil, but she wished desperately for her paints. She’d never seen eye coloration quite like his before—they actually looked golden. It wasn’t just the color that delighted her, his eyes held a decided twinkle of humor. In one word, they were scrumptious.
After making several sketches, she gave a happy sigh. “I’m done.”
Zeke put on his glasses. “What’d you think of them?” he asked with undisguised curiosity.
“I liked them,” she replied truthfully.
As he smiled at her, his glasses once again hid the fine quality of his eyes, but she’d seen them, and studied them, and she’d never again be deceived into thinking his eyes were ordinary. In actual fact, his eyes were magnificent, and more than that, they were Jesus eyes. That said it all as far as she was concerned.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Alex watched as Katie entered Phoebe’s room with his supper tray. She was followed by an unfamiliar doctor. Phoebe jumped at the sight of the strange man, but for the first time, she didn’t bury her face in Alex’s shirt when someone entered the room. Alex smiled at her with pride—pleased with her obvious progress.
“I’m Dr. McCormich,” the man said briskly as he turned the lights up to their full brilliance. “I’m doing Dr. Ember’s rounds tonight.”
Phoebe blinked against the harsh light and covered her eyes with her hands.
Setting the supper tray down, Katie said hesitantly, “I told Dr. McCormich that Phoebe was a special—”
“I’m sure all Dr. Ember’s cases are special,” Dr. McCormich interrupted, scribbling some things on the bottom of Phoebe’s chart. Still writing, he said to Katie, “I believe we can detach the IV drip, but keep the IV catheter in place. Get the patient back into bed for examination.”
Kneeling beside Phoebe, Katie asked, “Is it okay if I move you?”
Seeing
the way Dr. McCormich was tapping his foot impatiently, Alex felt a pang of misgiving. “Where’s Ember?” he murmured to Katie.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered back. “He never showed up tonight. It’s hospital protocol for another doctor to—”
“Nurse,” Dr. McCormich said in an irritated voice, “move the patient to her bed.”
“Phoebe?” Katie asked uncertainly.
Phoebe nodded.
Alex stood with Phoebe in his arms and placed her on the bed. Immediately, the doctor moved in, and while he didn’t exactly push Alex away, he nudged him back firmly. Alex stepped to the other side of the bed and took Phoebe’s hand. She turned her face to his.
The doctor was brisk and thorough, barking gruff observations for Katie to mark on the chart as he discarded old bandages and rewrapped wounds. He wasn’t exactly rough with Phoebe, but he definitely wasn’t gentle. He’d position her body in whatever way made it easier to get at her wounds, and if her nightgown was in the way, he pushed it aside.
Alex could see fear growing in Phoebe’s eyes. He could feel her grip tightening on his hand. He knelt beside her—his stomach felt nauseous. She looked like a trapped animal. Her face was growing pale, and her breathing was rapid.
“How much longer?” he asked Katie, keeping his eyes locked with Phoebe’s.
“Almost done. We just have her legs left.”
Dr. McCormich shoved Phoebe’s nightgown up until it was barely covering the tops of her thighs. Unbinding bloody bandages, he muttered, “Well, look at that! These wounds fall in line with a paper I’m writing.”
To Alex’s horror, the doctor whipped out a cell phone and began taking pictures. As the camera flashed, Alex looked at Phoebe—she was biting her lip so hard that it bled. Sweat was standing in beads across her forehead. He saw the fear in her eyes transforming into despair. She seemed to be collapsing inside. A single tear slowly gathered in the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek.
Alex stood to his feet with a bellow. Wrenching the cell phone from the doctor’s hand, he threw it to the floor.
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