by Laurie Paige
Ethan rubbed his jaw as if experiencing the pain of having it broken twice.
Wayne took a breath and continued. “Anyway, I got an idea. I started moaning, too, but only at night, then I started screaming. I kept it up no matter what they did. Finally they moved the cage out to the end of the rice field. I got louder. They moved us into the jungle. I screamed all night. As soon as it was nearly light, I kicked out the side and took off.”
Kate pressed a hand over her mouth.
“The other guy was pretty bad. I carried him for a while. Then he started fighting me, thinking I was the enemy. He broke away, ran a few feet and stepped on a land mine. The blast finished him and did some damage to my legs, but I was lucky. I ran into an American platoon five days later. I guess I was pretty much of a mess. The medics fixed me up and had me evacuated. I spent a year in the hospital in Hawaii. They reset my jaw and patched my arm, then they rebuilt my kneecap—”
“Oh, Wayne,” Kate murmured. She reached across the coffee table and squeezed his arm.
He swallowed hard as a knot balled in his throat. “I’d been gone for over four years by then. I wasn’t able to write to you for two years. I figured you both would have forgotten me by then.”
“Never,” she said.
Ethan nodded agreement.
“It was my memories of you, Katie, of both of you…” He looked at Ethan, including him. “Of the three of us, of the good times we shared, of laughter and being young, that kept me going until I got back to American lines. I made a splint for my leg, then walked, sometimes crawled, heading south, always south, and thought about you two. That’s all I thought about…of being home…with you…the way we used to be.”
Ethan covered his face with a hand. Tears pooled, then fell from Kate’s eyes as she stared at him with horror and pity warring in her expression.
He stood, as emotions too strong to be denied washed over him. He had to get away….
Ethan and Kate rose, too. Then somehow they were in one another’s arms, and he knew it was all right. They were going to forgive him. He loved them. God, he loved them, these friends…ah, God….
They talked most of the night, catching up on one another’s lives, sharing the loneliness and the guilt.
“I’m glad you two found each other.” He gave them a stern frown. “Even if it was damn late. You’ve made a good home for those kids.” He punched Ethan in the ribs. “You a daddy. Never thought I’d see the day.”
His friend grinned in that reserved way he’d always had. “The woman just wouldn’t leave me alone. It got embarrassing—”
His breath huffed out as Kate gave him a none-too-gentle nudge with her elbow.
“It’s four o’clock,” she said in surprise. “How about some breakfast? I don’t think any of us will sleep now.” She led the way into the kitchen. “You nearly told me who you were when we were trapped in that cave-in, didn’t you?”
Wayne nodded. “I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to make love to you.” He glanced at Ethan. “But I could see you were head over heels in love with this guy. Can’t figure out why, though. He looks like a rough piece of rawhide left outdoors for the winter.”
The two men fell to sparring, then ended up pounding each other on the shoulder while Kate got out sausage and eggs. They ate and talked some more as the sun came up.
At last Wayne pulled on his hat and coat. “I’ve got things to do today. I’m the donor for the bone marrow transplant for Jenny McCallum. We matched up.”
“Damn!” Ethan exclaimed. “She’s your half sister. And Clint Calloway is your half brother.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “It seems odd to have family I never knew. Everything has changed so much.”
Kate touched his arm gently. “Carey Hall is a good woman,” she said softly.
He met her knowing gaze and felt a flush creep up his neck into his face. “Yeah, she is that.”
“You could stay here, build a new life. The ranch needs you—”
“No, Katie. That life is over. I’m not going to claim any part of it.”
“But you came back,” Ethan stated.
“Maybe it was a mistake.”
“No,” Kate disagreed firmly. “Don’t keep on running away. You belong here.”
Long after he drove off toward the ranch, her words echoed in his mind. He shook his head. He hadn’t belonged anywhere in twenty-five years.
Freeway greeted him with a joyous yelp when he parked and climbed out of the truck. He rubbed the mutt’s ears. A tugging at his pant leg drew his attention.
One of the pups had a hold on the denim and was waging a fierce battle with it. Another had a similar hold on Freeway’s tail. Freeway gave him a patient glance that seemed to say, Kids. What can you do with them these days?
Wayne chuckled past the lump that insisted on forming in his throat again. “Right, old man. A family takes a lot of care.” He set the pup aside and headed for his bunk and a few hours of sleep before he talked to the sheriff, then the others on the list.
The news went through the town as fast as telephones and the grapevine could carry it. Curse or no curse, a herd of reporters laid siege to the ranch during the next week, demanding interviews. Wayne told his life story so many times he began to think of recording it and just handing out a tape cassette when anyone came around.
He came down with a cold within three days. Carey called him two days after that.
“Can you stop by for blood work in the morning?” she asked, sounding very professional.
“I have a cold.”
“Oh. When did you come down with it?”
He told her.
“Okay, we’ll schedule you for next week. Drop by my office, say, at six on Monday. That’ll be after-hours so you won’t run into anyone with an infection.”
“Sure.”
After he hung up, he realized his heart was pounding. He missed her. One night with her, and he missed her.
Walking out of the ranch office, he tripped over one of the puppies that had gotten out of the barn. He picked it up and scratched its ears. The pup licked his face, in ecstasy at being petted.
“It’s time for you to leave home. There’s a kid you’ll fall in love with who needs a dog.”
The puppy yapped excitedly as if he knew exactly what had been said. Wayne smiled. Maybe this would help store up some good points with Carey.
Carey straightened medical books that didn’t need it and rearranged her desktop, which was already neat. She’d watered her plants. She flopped in the chair and found herself staring at the sofa. Images whirled in her head of heat and passion and entwined bodies. She groaned and pressed her face into her hands. Why, why, why had she behaved so foolishly? Worse, why did she want to do it all again?
A knock sounded at the side door. Every muscle in her body jumped. Her heart went into racing mode.
“Coming,” she called, and dashed down the hall. She unlocked the door and opened it.
J.D.—no, Wayne Kincaid—stood on the step. He seemed to loom over her, tall and lean, as wary as a stray dog, and so damn desirable she nearly threw herself at him.
Again.
“Come on in,” she said in her best professional voice. “I have some papers for you to fill out first.”
She fled back to the office, while her heart fluttered and did diving tricks and generally misbehaved.
He followed behind her, his expression unreadable.
“Here, these are release forms. You won’t be able to sit a horse for a few days after the procedure. It will make your hip somewhat sore.”
“Sore as hell,” he muttered.
She glanced at him, wondering if he was thinking of changing his mind.
“’Somewhat sore’ is doctor talk for ‘sore as hell,’” he clarified. “I learned that during my previous stay in the army hospital.” He grinned, looking surprisingly like a kid who was proud of figuring out some adult secret.
“Yes, sore as hell,” she echoed. “Sin
ce your right leg is the damaged one, I thought we’d take the marrow from your left hip.”
“So I can limp on both sides?” He glanced over the release, then signed it and handed it to her.
She looked at the name he’d used. Wayne Kincaid. “I hadn’t noticed any limp.”
“It’s only when I get tired. My right knee stiffens up sometimes.”
After nodding in understanding, she gestured toward the hall. “I’d like to get your medical history now and do the preliminary checkup.”
“Anything you say, Doc.” He was mockingly agreeable.
She weighed him, checked his height, took his blood pressure and did all the things her nurse usually did. She had him fill out the standard medical history.
Her eyes misted when she read of the year spent in Hawaii, most of it in the hospital. Six operations for surgical repair. She imagined bones broken and flesh mangled by a grenade and a land mine. The waste of it.
“There’s that heavy sigh,” he said. “How’s the kid doing? I heard you’ve put her in the hospital, that she’s in some kind of strange contraption and you won’t even let her mother in to see her.”
“Jennifer’s in a special isolation unit. It’s rather like a big plastic bubble, but she can see and talk to people. We’ve set up a television, and Jenny has a remote control in the bubble. Sophie comes to the hospital and plays with her nearly every day. They play with games and interactive stories on the TV, each of them from her side of the plastic wall.”
She realized she was rambling and stopped.
“So when do I report in?”
“In the next couple of days if possible. You’re running a slight fever. I’d like to put you in isolation, too, and administer a round of antibiotics, then run the blood tests again before we proceed.”
“All right. Two days from now. Where and what time?”
“Nine o’clock at the hospital.” She closed and locked his file in the cabinet. Grabbing her purse and cardigan, she looked around for her gloves.
“Here.” He lifted them off a shelf of medical books.
She stuffed them in her sweater pocket and walked with him down the hall, shutting off lights as they left.
Driving down the dark street, her breath as visible as a fog each time she exhaled, she longed for springtime and warmth and leisurely walks. Not that she ever had much time for leisure, but it was something to dream about.
Behind, Wayne followed in his truck, staying a careful distance behind her. She was not going to invite him in.
He didn’t wait to be asked, but remained with her while she beeped the horn and Sophie ran out and joined her, then pulled into her drive behind her.
“Hi,” Sophie yelled, jumping out. “Did Freeway—”
She got no further before the dog leaped out of the truck and ran straight for the girl. They hugged and kissed and laughed and barked.
“Nothing like being in love,” Wayne said. He hefted a box from inside the truck. “Freeway brought you a birthday present,” he said to the child.
Carey eyed the box suspiciously.
“What?” Sophie ran to Wayne. “It isn’t my birthday.”
“It isn’t?” Wayne acted surprised. “Well, he thought it might be close.”
“It is. It’s—” She looked at her mom.
“Only about five months away,” Carey supplied.
“Yeah, that’s close enough. Let’s go inside.”
Carey found herself trailing the cowboy, her daughter and the dog into the kitchen. He set the box on the floor and stood back.
Sophie pulled it open. “Ohh,” she cried. “Oh, he’s beautiful.” She lifted out a puppy that wriggled with joy at the attention. Sophie hugged it to her, while Freeway licked her face. “What kind is it?” she asked.
“Part sheepdog and part mutt,” he told her.
“Just like his father,” Carey muttered. “You could have asked first.”
Wayne gave her an amused glance, his eyes daring her to do something about the gift. As if she could with Sophie holding on to the pup for dear life.
“A kid needs a young pet,” he said. “Not two old stodgy cats you probably got when you were her age.”
“Hardly.”
They’d been strays she’d adopted in high school. She realized that had been a long time ago.
She tossed her purse on a chair, hung up her sweater and stuck her gloves in a drawer. Two other pairs were there—a fact that annoyed her. She’d looked all over the house for the blasted things last week.
After washing her hands, she began supper. Wayne—she still thought of him as J.D.—and Sophie and the two dogs played tug-of-war over in the corner, out of her way.
She prepared Swedish meatballs and served them over spinach noodles, along with steamed broccoli and fresh carrot curls. She was aware when their guest left the girl and dogs and leaned against the counter, his incredibly blue eyes on her, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Her blood went hot just thinking of his touch. He’d caressed her all over, had made the most wonderful love to her, and it had all been a lie.
“I had better be going. I brought some puppy chow over. Shall I bring it in?”
She frowned at him. “Sophie would run away from home if I tried to pry her away from the pup. As you well know. Yes, bring it in.”
He grinned at her tone and sauntered out, then returned in a swirl of cold air with the bag of dog food. “Freeway, it’s time we were heading out.”
Freeway thumped his tail and stayed put.
“I have dinner nearly ready,” Carey said irritably. “You may as well stay.”
“Since you put it so graciously, how can we refuse?”
She wanted to hit him with the stirring spoon. She set the table, told the other two to wash up and scolded herself for inviting him to dinner. It was just asking for trouble.
He and Sophie kept up a steady stream of chatter during the meal. He offered lots of advice on training the pup, then asked her what she was going to call it.
This took several minutes of serious thought. “I was going to name him Buzz, but I don’t know. That would leave Woody out.” She looked at Freeway. “I know. Highway.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think—” Carey broke off when Wayne chuckled, then tried to hide it behind a cough. “Highway?” she started again. “It’s a bit unusual.”
“I like it,” Sophie declared.
Her chin set in that stubborn way that reminded Carey of the girl’s father. Carey knew when to give in gracefully. “Highway it is.”
“Good choice,” he said.
She glared at him. But soon his arrogant grin and the absurdity of the name softened her mouth.
“Watch it. You’re about to smile. Look, Sophie, your mom is smiling. She likes the name.”
Sophie grinned happily, her gaze on her new friend. Carey felt misgivings tug at her heart. Her daughter was half in love with the elusive cowboy. Sophie gave her trust so readily, just as she once had.
After ice cream and homemade cookies, she was ordered to sit at the table while the other two cleared the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Her worries increased as Sophie was drawn more and more to their guest.
She watched them put the box in the utility room and settle the puppy there to sleep with an old sock belonging to Sophie. Wayne laid out newspapers on the floor in case of accidents while the pup learned the ropes.
As soon as it was polite, she took her child from his presence and supervised the bath ritual, firmly rejecting the idea that Highway needed a bath, too. She took an extra long time with the bedtime story and a brief chat about the day’s happenings. When she turned off the light, closed the door and returned to the kitchen, she found him still there.
“Thank you for the dog. Sophie adores it. You were right about her needing a young pet.” She waited for him to leave, standing close to the door so she could show him out.
He rose, but didn’t retrieve his coat. Instead, he came to her. “Rela
x, Doc,” he told her. “This isn’t going to hurt a bit.”
She summoned the words to protest. They never got past her lips. He covered her mouth with his, taking the kiss deep and stirring her blood with memories of their other kisses. Those seemed almost a dream now.
“Invite me to stay.” He nuzzled down her neck.
“No.”
“For an hour.”
“No.”
“You might need help with the pup.” There was laughter in his tone.
“No.”
“Don’t you know any other word?”
“No.”
He sighed and lifted his head. “Stubborn.”
She agreed. “But there’s no need in continuing something that has no place to go.”
He was silent for a long minute. “You’re right. As soon as things are cleared up here, I’ll be heading out.”
Which was exactly what she’d thought he would do.
Long after he and Freeway were gone, she sat in front of the fire, not thinking, not feeling. At last she sighed and went to bed. She’d been in danger of falling in love, but she was okay now. She was over it.
Eight
Carey signed the admitting form, then looked it over. She handed it to the waiting clerk and hurried off to the nursing station in pediatrics. She wasn’t going to stand around waiting for Wayne to show up. She had work to do.
At nine, she went to her office and began the next part of her day with the usual cases of flu and colds.
At eleven, she removed a dried bean from a four-year-old’s nose and blobs of mashed potato from the ears of a two-year-old, which had affected his hearing. His mother was furious with his elder brother when she found out what the problem had been.
At noon, Carey dashed back to the hospital. She was supposed to meet Kane Hunter, who would do the actual bone marrow removal from Wayne, for a consultation.
“Has Kincaid checked in?” she asked, pausing by the admissions desk.
“Yes. Room 222.”
“Thanks.” She hurried to the elevator. She wanted to check on Jennifer first.
The anesthesiologist was talking to the child. Kane, dressed in surgical greens, stood beside the other doctor, his face grave. Jessica waited nearby, looking more than a little haggard after days of hospital living. She went home only when Sterling was there to spell her with their daughter.