by Laura Moore
“Arrhythmia, what’s that?”
“Irregular beating of the heart. You see, the x-rays can’t show contusions to the heart. That car must have really nailed him. It’s just a miracle he didn’t suffer even more internal damage.”
“A contusion’s a bruise, right?”
Caleb nodded. “Right. Well, that became our top priority, getting his heartbeat back to normal. No way could we put him under sedation and operate on his hip unless his heart could stand the strain. It took another seventy-two hours of continual ECG monitoring, medication, and painkillers for him. As soon as we thought he’d be able to handle the stress, we operated on his hip. The problem was, we couldn’t wait too long to operate, or else the broken bones would start to set crookedly opening up a whole new can of worms.”
Caleb flashed a broad smile. “But hot damn, he pulled through! Yesterday, I assisted Mark Winterer in putting Finnegan’s fractured hip back together with a plate and screws. He came out of the anesthesia just fine. That dog is something else.”
“Amazing.” Thompson shook her head in wonder. “Why, I’d never have imagined that a dog could survive that much damage. Or that procedures like that existed.”
“He was really lucky. If he’d ruptured a vital organ, we might not have been able to save him. Now all he has to do is rest. This brings up a huge favor I wanted to ask of you.” Caleb finished hesitantly, lifting his eyes momentarily before dropping them to stare fixedly at the delicate wineglass stem his long fingers were toying with.
Cassie watched, surprised at his sudden show of uncertainty. She’d become so used to the supreme self-confidence and arrogance he usually displayed. A combination she found alternately exasperating and inexplicably compelling. What could possibly make the proud and assured Caleb falter?
“Go on, ask away” she encouraged.
Caleb’s dark eyes held hers briefly. They flickered with conflicting emotion, debating with himself. At last he appeared to come to a decision. “I spoke with Mr. O’Mally yesterday, told him Finnegan would be ready to go home tomorrow afternoon. The trouble is, when I discussed Finnegan’s physical limitations for the next six weeks, I wasn’t aware that Mr. O’Mally lives in a walk-up apartment. It would be impossible for him to carry Finnegan up and down a flight of stairs every time the dog needs to relieve himself. Even with the weight Finnegan’s lost since the accident, he weighs an easy seventy pounds.” Caleb paused, shaking his head in disgust. “I can’t tell you what a fool I felt like, saving this man’s dog, feeling on top of the world, only to find out that it will be utterly impossible physically for him to take over the rest of Finnegan’s recuperative care.”
He grimaced, recalling the crushing look of dismay that had crossed Mr. O’Mally’s face when Caleb breezily announced that Finnegan should avoid stairs, jumping, and running for the next six weeks.
Cassie’s mind raced. “So Finnegan needs to be in a place where he can get outside to relieve himself without having to deal with stairs.”
Caleb nodded, sighing with frustration. “I don’t want to keep him at the hospital for much longer. It wouldn’t be good for Finnegan, exposing him to the germs and everything. And frankly we’re just too busy to care for him now that he’s out of danger. We’ve got other sick animals to tend. And I want him in a place where he’ll have company during the day, so that rules out my place. Hank and Melissa have steps out in front and in back, and Melissa’s stubborn enough to try to lift the dog herself . . .”
“Our kitchen door leads directly out back, with just the shallow stoop,” Cassie supplied. “Will he be able to go up that okay?”
“That would be no problem but . . .”
“Well, of course he can stay with us,” Thompson interjected, knowing full well that Cassie, out of politeness, would leave the decision to her. “I figured I should put in my two cents’ worth,” she said, shrugging, “seeing as I’ll be with the dog during the daytime.”
Cassie suppressed a laugh. She loved Thompson’s takecharge attitude. She’d been like this ever since Tom and Lisa’s death, no-nonsense and immeasurably helpful. So much easier to live with than a mock show of deference.
“Well, if it’s all right with Thompson, it’s fine with me, Caleb. You managed to save the dog, and we’d love to help any way we can, but . . .” She turned to look at Sophie and Jamie’s excited expressions. “You two are going to have to do exactly what Caleb says. This dog was very badly hurt. No rough-housing, or even playing with him until Caleb says it’s okay. You’ve got to be very gentle, all the time. Do you two think you can do that?”
The twins nodded their heads slowly eyes round as saucers. “We’ll be very good, Mommy. That dog will love being with us, you’ll see.”
“I know you kids will be great with Finnegan, but what your mom said was true. Finnegan’s going to be feeling poorly for quite some time.”
Jamie slipped out of his seat to come stand by Caleb’s chair. He laid his small hand on Caleb’s forearm. “Don’t worry, Caleb,” he said, his voice and manner solemn as he reassured the adult. “We’ll take good care of him.”
Caleb grinned. Wrapping his arm around the five year-old’s tiny shoulders, he squeezed gently. “Thanks, champ.” He breathed a sigh of thanks. Although he’d hoped Cassie and Bessie would be this generous, a part of him had feared rejection. Sure as hell was hot, Caleb knew that if he’d ever asked Pamela to shelter an injured animal she’d have laughed in his face. Either that, or she’d have insisted O’Mally pay for the trouble and inconvenience.
A brief silence settled around the table until at last Cassie spoke, suddenly aware of the lateness of the hour. “Okay, kiddos, time to get ready for bed.”
“Can Caleb come and read us a story? Please?” Sophie pleaded, turning expectantly in her chair to Caleb. Caleb looked at her adorable face with its mop of golden hair and knew he’d be willing to read aloud War and Peace from cover to cover if asked. Crazy how a little five-year-old’s acceptance could mean so much.
“Be happy to, Sophie-sweet. I’ll be up in a second. You and Jamie choose the book you want.”
With a cry that was as close to a war whoop as he’d heard in a long time, the twins tore up the stairs, their feet thundering loudly on the steps. Over the reverberation, the grownups heard their high voices raised excitedly arguing over what book to read.
“Thanks. They love it when someone else reads to them. Thompson and I are a bit old hat.”
“No problem. Hope I’m not too rusty.”
Cassie laughed. “Remember, they’re only five. A lot more forgiving than your high-school English teacher.”
Caleb gave a mock shudder as he rose from his chair. “Thank God. That woman was a terror. I realized she was a direct descendant of one of Macbeth’s witches as soon as I saw what she ate for lunch.” A quick grin lit his face. “By the way thanks for the dinner, Bessie. You’ve got a golden touch. I haven’t eaten so well since Mom lived here.”
Thompson flushed with pride. “It’s nice to have someone who appreciates home cooking.” She directed a reproachful glance at Cassie, who never had room for the additional helpings Thompson tried to ply her with. Thompson shook her head and made a tsking noise to emphasize her disapproval.
Cassie determinedly ignored her. If she ate as much as Thompson tried to feed her, she’d be too fat to even lift her foot into the stirrup, let alone haul herself into the saddle.
Caleb grinned. Both women’s expressions made it clear this battle of wills was long standing. A wise man avoided quicksand.
“Well, I’d better go on up and see what Jamie and Sophie have chosen.”
As Caleb closed the cover of the book, Sophie leaned back with a sigh of happiness. Caleb felt her springy curls brush the underside of his chin as she looked up from her perch in his lap. “Caleb, is there really such a thing as a pushmi-pullyu?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
Caleb hesitated, his mouth caught open like a fish out of water but before he could fashion
an acceptable answer Jamie scornfully replied, “Of course not, silly.”
Sophie sat forward as she turned to glare at her brother sitting close by Caleb’s side. “How do you know?”
“’Cause they don’t exist.”
That seemed to settle the question definitively, but precisely how Caleb would have been hard put to explain. He felt Sophie collapse into his chest, her hope deflated, like a balloon pricked by a sharp pin. Caleb thanked his lucky stars that Jamie had intercepted Sophie’s question. Caleb wasn’t certain, but he suspected that debunking the pushmi-pullyu was right up there with claiming that Santa was a hoax and the Great Pumpkin just a cartoon. It was much better that her worldly-wise twin brother delivered the depressing news. Nevertheless, Caleb felt compelled to defend the wonders of the animal kingdom.
“Unfortunately what Jamie said may be true, sweetheart. But I’ve got a great book in my office I’ll show you next time you come visit. It’s an illustrated encyclopedia of all the animals in the world. I bet you’ll find some pictures of animals in there just as neat as the pushmi-pullyu.”
Cassie stood in the doorjamb of Jamie’s room listening to the bedtime conversation. Her heart constricted into a tight ball at the sight of the threesome seated on Jamie’s bed. Sophie so small inside the shelter of Caleb’s arms, and Jamie squished next to Caleb as close as he could get, making it difficult to see where one body began and another ended.
The three heads, the two blond ones framing Caleb’s darker head, were bent, studying the cover illustration of Sophie’s favorite story, Doctor Dolittle.
“He was a pretty good animal doctor ” Jamie said thoughtfully. “But I think you’re better. You’ve got frogs in your pond, not scary alligators. But he’s got hedgehogs, and you don’t.” He finished somewhat sadly no longer quite so certain Caleb could compare with Doctor Dolittle.
“Yeah, but Caleb’s got goldfish, and Doctor Dolittle doesn’t. Right, Caleb?”
“That’s true, but hedgehogs are pretty great. Hard to beat hedgehogs.”
“Well, I like you better. You let us help give Jake a bath.”
“Munchkin, any time you want to give dirty old Jake a bath, I’m sure his owner would be thrilled.”
“And you’re gonna let us help take care of that hurt dog, Figgenan.”
Caleb choked on a laugh at Sophie’s mangling of Finnegan’s name and glancing up, saw Cassie’s slim figure leaning against the door frame. The look that passed between them rekindled the sensation of each touch, each kiss, each caress they had shared.
Even Caleb’s words, his heated promise came back to her now: But just to make everything crystal clear for you, Cassie, we are going to make love. You want to and I’m damn near dying to. And when we do, it won’t have any thing to do with where you live, your kids, your job, or the fact that I’m your boss. It’ll just be the two of us. You and me. Alone. Together.
It jolted her, the memory of his passionate words. Because he was so right and so wrong. Yes, she wanted him, and that desire transcended her children, her job, and the fact that she worked for him.
But she also realized, as she stood and watched this incredible man cradling her daughter in his arms as he read a bedtime story, that she could only really desire him because of this other side to him.
A ruthless Don Juan she could have resisted.
This caring, funny, sexy man she could not.
A bittersweet smile played upon her lips, for she suspected that if Caleb had any inkling of her thoughts, he’d run as if the hounds of hell were chasing him. Caleb cared for her a bit. Of that she was sure. But he wouldn’t let his emotions be involved any deeper. His first wife, Pamela, had seen to that.
She supposed the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question was: Did she, Cassie, have the courage to continue, to give in to her desire when her heart told her she was teetering on the brink? Opening herself to love would mean toppling over the edge and finding herself falling into its fathomless pool. Because, when they made love, it wouldn’t be just the two of them alone as Caleb had said.
Her heart would be there, too. A presence she feared would be rejected.
Keep it light, Cassie, she instructed herself. There was no point in rushing her fences, a metaphor she understood all too well. She wanted him. It was ridiculous to deny it any longer. The feeling had been building inside her since she first laid eyes on him, and it had grown with each infuriating and exciting minute she spent with him. She reassured herself with the thought that she’d recognized the dangers and potential for heartbreak.
She wouldn’t be blindsided as she’d been with Brad. This time she’d let herself enjoy what Caleb so seductively offered and try to protect her heart as much as possible. It was a risk, but Cassie knew she’d regret it forever if she didn’t take it.
For the moment, she pushed her turbulent thoughts aside. It was one thing to plot the course of her heart, another thing entirely when two rambunctious five-year-olds were seated a mere six feet away. She cleared her throat, alerting the twins of her presence.
“Come on, Sophie and Jamie, it’s off to bed with you.”
“Aw Mom! Can’t Caleb read us another story? I want to choose this one.”
“Sorry, Jamie. It’s late. Next time, you get to pick the book,” Cassie replied firmly. “Got a big day ahead of us with Finnegan coming to stay. Both of you say good night to Caleb now. Thompson will be up in a moment to kiss you.”
Cassie watched with amusement as Sophie twisted around in Caleb’s lap, threw her arms around his neck and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on his cheek. Of course, most of the women Caleb associated with probably didn’t then scramble off his lap with a happy “Sleep tight, Caleb.” Thank heaven for five-year-olds, Cassie thought as she hugged Sophie and hefted her up into her arms.
“Oof, you’re getting heavy! Back in a sec, Jamie. I’m just going to tuck Sophie in.” With Sophie still clutched in her arms, Cassie carried her into the adjacent room and lowered her onto the brightly colored comforter.
“Under the covers you go, Pumpkin. That’s a girl. Did you have a good time listening to the story?”
Sophie smiled and rubbed her head enthusiastically against the pillow case.
“I’m glad, sweetheart.” She knelt by the bed and brought her face close to Sophie’s. She rubbed her nose against her daughter’s. “’Night, Sophie. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.” She laid a kiss on the soft down of her daughter’s cheek.
Ordinarily, Sophie might have held out for at least a half-dozen more kisses and a lullaby or two, but she was obviously so tired from the lateness of the hour and the excitement of her first week of school that she snuggled her head deeper against the pillow without a single word of protest.
“’Night, Mommy. Love you.”
“I love you, too, Sophie.”
Caleb stood on the landing outside Jamie’s door as Cassie performed the same bedtime ritual with her son. A few minutes later Cassie quietly slipped out, closing the door behind her until only a small wedge of light from the upstairs hallway entered the bedroom.
They looked at each other, feeling the silence of the house settle around them.
Cassie offered a shy smile. “Asleep at last. Thanks for reading to them. I think you’ve just added two new members to your fan club.”
“Always happy to have new members,” he quipped lightly. “Question is, would you be willing to be in my fan club, too, Slim?”
Cassie’s mind instantly conjured images of hundreds of women who would probably give their eyeteeth to be president of a Caleb Wells fan club. “In your dreams, Wells,” she replied lightly, determined not to succumb to the green-eyed monster threatening to consume her at the idea of countless women fawning over Caleb.
Caleb took a step nearer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent thrills racing down her spine. “Ahh, but, Slim, you are in my dreams. Every night. I’ve been having some pretty, uh, exciting dreams. Shall I describe them to you?” A demonstration
would be even better, he added silently.
She refused to laugh. “No thank you.” Her voice was as prim as a young schoolgirl’s. “I’m sure a lot is lost in the retelling.”
“Oh, I promise I’d be real precise, right down to the last detail.” He grinned, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Now let me see . . . should I begin with the one where we’re marooned on a desert island? There’s this cave we discover, and . . .”
“Who’s marooned on a desert island? What’s this about a cave?” Thompson interrupted, her ascent up the stairs unremarked by Cassie and Caleb until she was all of two feet away from them.
Cassie’s lips split into a wide grin at the flush that stole over Caleb’s cheeks. “Yes, Caleb, do tell Thompson all about your very interesting dream. Remember, don’t leave out any details.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head good-humoredly, silently promising her retribution.
“Well, you see, Bessie, it’s a very involved dream. I’m sure you’d find it a real bore.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Thompson returned dryly. “But right now I want to kiss my babies goodnight and then get to sleep myself. Make sure you tell Cassie what we need to do to get ready for that dog.” She placed her hand on the doorknob, adding before she disappeared inside, “There’s coffee on the stove. And some more of that cake you liked so much.”
Caleb’s voice dropped to a fierce whisper as they made their way down to the kitchen. “Nice going, Slim. Trying to get me in trouble with the best cook in the county. Have you no pity?”
“What baloney! You know perfectly well that if you do one more good deed, Thompson’s going to swear you walk on water.” She thumped her thumb against her chest as they neared the bottom step. “But I’m far more discerning. I see you for the scoundrel you really are. You’ll do just about anything for a hot meal. I can’t believe you had thirds and then two slices of that chocolate cake. Your system’s probably reeling from calorie-overload.”