California Girl

by Rice, Patricia

  “If Jock has his way, there will be a big old house sitting empty in Springfield come spring,” Mame said as Jock came toward them. “Doing things on your own has its place, but it’s even better sharing with someone else.”

  “For people like us, anyway.” Alys kissed Mame’s papery cheek. “I’m learning that. It may take time to convince others.”

  “If anyone can, you can. Elliot’s down on the next floor. Someone convinced him he’s not indestructible.”

  “He’s a stubborn man,” Alys warned.

  “Show him your wounded wing. He always did like healing injured creatures.”

  Alys grinned. “He’s stubborn, not stupid. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Mame cackled. “I don’t think so.”

  Puzzled over Mame’s parting remark, Alys ran back to fetch her brochures, and set out for Elliot’s room.

  In all her phone calls and visiting, she’d already learned the famous Doc Nice had checked himself into the hospital last night.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The door closed behind the doctor, and Elliot gazed blankly at the private hospital room his money could buy. Where did he go from here?

  He had his computer and cell phone in the closet. He’d already called the radio station and told them to run a tape for next Sunday’s show as well. His publisher wasn’t interested in scheduling another book tour. He still had a deadline to meet, though. There was Mame to think about. And his brothers.

  He’d rather think about Alys, but it hurt too much. His friends hadn’t called yet. She hadn’t delivered the Rover. Where could she be?

  Exploring the Grand Canyon? Driving into Mexico? With a free spirit like Alys, who knew? He would have liked to have shown her palm trees and oceans.

  A woman laughed down the hall, and he could hear Alys in the laughter. He would be a basket case at this rate. Sitting up, he shrugged into his robe in case a nurse was headed this way. He hated being on the other side of the bed. He could almost understand what Alys and Mame had been telling him about hospitals. The impersonal routine was daunting, even when he understood the need for it. He liked his privacy.

  Tying the belt, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed just as the door swung open.

  Alys stood there in all her glorious disarray. She carried a jacket over her arm along with a canvas bag spilling colorful brochures. Her sexy white blouse revealed the glorious curves of her breasts. He’d never seen her wearing such sedate colors, but he liked the way the ruffle of her blouse teased him with glimpses of what he longed to see.

  The load on her arm tugged the blouse open wider as she deposited the bag and jacket on a chair. She’d been running her fingers through her hair again, and upturned ends stuck out in strange places. Sleek, mink-colored hair sculpted her cheeks and emphasized her wide eyes as she studied him.

  “How do you feel?” she asked anxiously, her gaze darting to the empty IV bag hanging on the far side of the bed, then down to the unblinking monitors on the nightstand, before coming back to study him.

  “You’re not about to sit on the floor and go into a trance, are you?” he asked warily. He hated being caught in bed, looking less than a hundred percent, but his perverse heart had just begun a rapid tattoo, and he wasn’t certain he dared get up just yet. Just the sight of her had that effect on him.

  “Not unless I have a reason to,” she said pragmatically. “I’ve decided what I want to be.”

  Elliot sat back against his pillows, waiting with interest to see where her fascinating mind had taken her this time. “A travel writer who follows balloon festivals?”

  To his surprise, she emptied her canvas bag across the covers. Pages of information on nursing careers and education requirements and universities spilled across his legs in a colorful array of slick papers.

  “A nurse,” she said with satisfaction, pulling the chair to the side of the bed and excitedly poking through the material. “Look. I can get scholarships. And I have enough left from the life insurance for housing.”

  He didn’t know whether to share her obvious happiness or weep that he’d lost her for certain or laugh at the irony of her choosing a profession that took her into the hospitals she hated. He tried to show interest by picking up one of the papers she handed him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the excitement dancing in her eyes.

  “With your brains and persistence, you could be an astronaut and go to the moon if you wanted. Why would you choose a profession that would put you in the hospitals that you hate?”

  She beamed. “Because it makes perfect sense. I love people. Mame was right, and so were you. I’m a nurturer, a natural caretaker. It’s the cold inhospitable atmosphere of hospitals that I don’t like, not medicine or doctors. I can learn what you know about practical science, and apply what I know about the spiritual nature that must be nurtured, and you can live forever!”

  Stunned, Elliot just stared. He wasn’t certain if he’d heard her right, or understood what he’d heard.

  She waved a hand as if to brush away what she’d just said. “I know people don’t live forever. I’m accepting that. But you might live longer. I can learn things like CPR and what’s healthy for you. You always concentrate on the physical. I could feed you positive vibrations and—”

  Elliot grabbed her hands to halt the spill of words before she said anything she’d regret later. “You don’t need to do all that for me.”

  The eagerness in her eyes didn’t flee but flickered with uncertainty. “It’s okay if you don’t want me around. I still want to be a nurse. But if you left me because you didn’t want to die on me, then I’m telling you that doesn’t matter. I can handle it. I know what I’m getting into and I’m prepared.”

  He wasn’t the kind of man who cried, but he pulled her onto the bed and hugged her against him so she couldn’t see the moisture building in his eyes. She curled into his arms as if she belonged there, and Elliot thought he might burst with love and pride. “I’m not going to die,” he told her. “Not yet anyway.”

  She tilted her head up. “You had a heart attack, just like Mame.”

  “And Mame isn’t dying anytime soon either, but that’s not what I mean. My heart is fine. There is no sign of blocked arteries or congestive failure. The doctor says I have the heart of a college football player. Looking at my test results, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m conservative.”

  Laughter crinkled the corners of her eyes, but she still studied him, searching for the truth. “Then, what happened? The medics said your heart failed.”

  “You happened. I can’t explain it. I may spend a lifetime trying to duplicate the results. Maybe I just had a raw ulcer and passed out from pain and you cured it. There are no guarantees that it won’t happen again,” he warned as excitement and happiness burned in her eyes.

  “But I’ll be prepared next time,” she crowed, flinging her arms around his neck and raining kisses across his cheek.

  He was just getting into the soft crush of her breasts against his chest when she suddenly pulled back and stared at him in horror. If he did have a bad heart, it would have faltered right then.

  “But then you don’t need me. I’ve been assuming you left because of Fred, but if you’re fine, and you didn’t call, and . . . ” she stuttered helplessly, backing away. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”

  “When has that ever stopped you?” Bursting with laughter and delight, Elliot hauled her into his lap again. “I know it’s too soon, and I can’t expect you to agree to anything just yet, but I know my own mind. And heart. I love you. You’ve showed me a whole new world I would have missed if you hadn’t come along. I don’t want to live without you. Could you give me time to make you see things my way? Do you think you might consider nursing school in St. Louis so we could see each other more often? If not, I could always—”

  “Yes!” she cried, flinging her arms around him again, landing in his lap, narrowly missing a vital part of his anatomy that was in a particula
rly tender state right now. “I love you. I adore you. I want to spend my life with you. I want to show you life isn’t just about diet and exercise. I want—”

  Flipping her back against the mattress before she could totally unman him, Elliot shut up her nonsense by firmly applying mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. With a twist.

  “Marry me,” he said, coming up for air, then returning to kiss her again so she couldn’t refuse.

  She dug her fingers into his hair and wriggled under him to a better position. Elliot immediately dived for the cleft between her breasts, peeling back silk and lace and freeing her nipple. She gasped when he drank there, but he could feel the heat and desire sweep through her. Maybe he could bribe her with sex into saying yes.

  She moaned and ran her hands beneath his robe and Elliot was just beginning to wonder if they could do this without anyone walking in on them when Alys suddenly grabbed his shoulders and pushed. She couldn’t budge him if he didn’t want to be budged, but he was wary enough to stop what he was doing to study her face.

  “Why settle for California when I can have the moon?” she replied, then tugged him back down to kiss him.

  Elliot thought he might just have become engaged to be married, but he’d ask questions later.

  Right now, he preferred to reinforce his future wife’s positive vibrations about hospitals. He’d give her something to smile about the next time she walked into one.

  Epilogue

  Alys tucked mistletoe into the greenery of the arched doorway between Mame’s front parlor and dining room. The outdoor scent of evergreen permeated the air. Climbing down from the ladder to twirl around and admire all the decorations, she hugged herself. The twelve-foot Christmas tree in the bay window was amazing.

  She still couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She felt as if she were dancing on air.

  A light coating of white covered the lawn outside the window. Ice glittered in the bare maples, a perfect background for the evergreen tree shimmering in red and silver and crystal. Stacked high around the base of the tree and spilling over the perimeter onto the Victorian fireplace were colorful packages tied in gaudy bows.

  Wedding gifts they hadn’t opened yet.

  From the kitchen drifted the aroma of baking cookies and the roar of laughter. Mame and Jock were in full fettle, she thought, smiling to herself, thinking of the love she’d seen between the two of them. She was glad they had come back here for this. Elliot’s brothers had returned home for the occasion, and the house was filled to overflowing with life and laughter. She was loving every minute of it. This was what she’d needed, not loneliness. Not even freedom. She needed the ties that bind.

  At the sound of feet on the elegant staircase, she glanced toward the foyer, her smile deepening as she waited for the man of her dreams to walk into the room. He’d taped his farewell radio show just yesterday. He’d turned in his manuscript last week. He’d spent these last weeks turning the library and an adjacent bedroom into an office for the practice he intended to build here in Springfield. She’d known he had to emerge from his study sooner or later.

  After all, this was their wedding day.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs and seeing her, Elliot grinned and strode across the waxed wood of the front parlor. For the occasion, he wore a silver-gray suit with his usual conservative white shirt—and a red carnation in his lapel.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, just before clasping her face between his hands and stopping her protests with a kiss. “I can spot mistletoe from a mile away,” he murmured when they came up for air.

  “Your brothers were supposed to keep you out of the way until everything was ready,” she whispered against his mouth. She’d never have enough of his kisses, even if they both lived a million years.

  “My brothers are too busy chowing down on all the goodies in the kitchen to care where I am. So much for my lessons on healthy eating. When does everyone start arriving? There may be no food left.”

  “The reverend and the rabbi and some of the guests are already here,” she admitted. “They’re in the kitchen sampling the menu. And I don’t think you’re supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”

  “I saw her last night,” he teased. “And I wager Jock isn’t too far from Mame right now either.” Holding her arms, he stepped back to admire her dress. “I want the photographer to get a full-length picture of you so I can put it on my desk and remember the day you wore just one color.”

  She’d chosen an ankle-length soft rose velvet gown for the occasion, with romantically puffed long sleeves and a soft frill of lace on the cuff and a heart-shaped neckline. She even wore heels so she matched Elliot’s height better. For a corsage, she wore a bouquet of small orchids from the plant that Mame had given her. It was thriving in the kitchen window now.

  She pulled out the skirt and did a little twirl for his benefit. “You’ll only see me in uniforms before long, so enjoy.”

  “In uniforms and out,” he reminded her with a leer. “The bow around your neck was a nice touch last night.”

  She laughed and almost didn’t notice the front doorbell until the noise from the kitchen spilled into the hallway.

  Elliot caught her waist and held her. “Do you want to greet the guests or hide upstairs until the appropriate moment?”

  “I’ve done the big wedding before. Unless you have a sudden overwhelming desire for tradition, I’d rather just keep this as we planned, call it a party, and have fun.” She studied Elliot’s beloved features, willing to accept his decision since this was his first wedding.

  “I’m not well acquainted with weddings, parties, or fun, so I’ll follow your example,” he agreed without protest.

  At the shouts of excitement in the foyer, they turned in that direction. The crowd of people milling in the opening, throwing off overcoats, collecting scarves, and passing around hugs, was too thick to penetrate at first glance.

  Alys was the one to look beyond the Christmas tree to the yard. “Beulah!” she cried, tugging Elliot forward.

  The pink Cadillac gleamed in all her snow-covered glory in the driveway. The front bumper still sagged. Plastic covered the driver’s window. The small tire had been replaced, but the back fender appeared dented. She wore a bright green wreath and red bow on her front grill.

  “She has a lot of years left in her,” Elliot said in awe. “That car may outlive us all.”

  With a cry of joy, Alys darted from beneath his arm toward the guests gathering in the foyer. “Lucia!”

  The child ran into the parlor and flung herself into Alys’s waiting arms, chattering animatedly about a deer and chocolates and Santa Claus. Disregarding her rose wedding gown, Alys sat cross-legged on the floor, pulled Lucia into a hug in her lap, and let her rattle. Elliot thought his heart might burst from pure pride and love at the sight. Someday, she’d hold his child like that, here in this room where he’d grown up. This time around, he meant to enjoy the holidays and the small triumphs of living.

  While Alys pulled out an album from under the tree to show Lucia photos from their trip, Elliot looked up to see his whole family in the doorway, watching. He caught a look of startlement and appreciation in the eyes of his brothers and hoped that meant they realized what a treasure he was about to bring into the family. They’d not been home long enough to know Alys, but they were quick studies.

  Mame beamed with pride and winked at him when she caught his eye. Jock, wearing his best blue suit and a white carnation, draped his arm around Mame’s shoulders and led her into the parlor so their guests could spread out. Elliot knew the two of them were ready to return to the warmth of California and the lifestyle they’d found there, but they looked like a couple of kids at Christmas poking through the assorted packages.

  Dulce entered with her brother Tony, both of them carrying boxes. Whispering something into Lucia’s ear, Alys put her down so the child could hunt for a package under the tree. Then she leaped up to greet their guests. Seeing Elliot lingering
behind, she caught his arm and pulled him into the circle of friends.

  “This is your life now,” she whispered, standing on her toes and kissing his cheek. “These are your friends. Open up and let them in.”

  With Alys at his side, that was easy. He didn’t want to be anywhere else. Not caring if he looked too much of a sap in front of his brothers, he hugged her waist and kissed the top of her head. She radiated all the positive vibrations he needed.

  “Sam Wolf sent these,” Dulce murmured as the front door blew open to allow in another flurry of guests. She handed the package with a silver bow to Alys. “He sends his gratitude that Lucia’s grandfather Mendoza can no longer cause us grief.”

  “Paying for the damage his drivers caused should have cost him enough. The jail term ought to teach him a little anger management,” Elliot said dryly, watching with interest as Alys untied the ribbon. His curiosity was as strong as hers.

  When she idled over admiring the gift wrapping, Elliot impatiently tugged the ribbon free from the box.

  The top popped open. A pair of jade-green eyes and a silver head peered from beneath the lid.

  “A kitten!” Alys exclaimed in delight—just before the creature leaped from the box into the center of the Christmas tree.

  While everyone shouted and danced about attempting to untangle the kitten from the tree and the ornaments, Elliot tugged his bride-to-be away from the confusion to whisper in her ear.

  “I love you more than there are stars in the sky. You are my life and my heart and my future. But could we please keep the animals out of our bedroom?”

  Her laughter chimed like the musical bells the cat had liberated from the tree branches, and Elliot knew he had only to ask, and she would give him everything his heart desired. And more.

  In return, he would give her the world and the freedom to explore it.

  A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the sparkling diamond on Alys’s left hand, the one he’d set there to replace the one she’d removed. The gold ring he carried close to his heart burned a hole in his pocket. In a few hours, he’d place it on the ring finger of her left hand.