by Loree Lough
While he slept, Eden had surrounded the window of his hospital room with the LED mini-lights he’d delivered on the night of the fire. She’d hung a fat, artificial wreath on the bulletin board, and lined the windowsill with get-well and Christmas cards. A tiny reindeer and sleigh decorated his rolling food tray. A menorah sat on the night table and a fat snowman on the radiator. And the handmade banner that was tacked to the ceiling tiles read Warning: This Patient Is a Christmas Addict; Candy Canes Prohibited. Maybe he ought to give the fentanyl more credit, because he hadn’t heard a thing.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” said his nurse. She glanced at all the decorations. “You know, yours is our favorite room on the entire floor.” She adjusted his IV drip, then typed a bunch of stuff into the computer near the wall.
“Because it’s so very merry, you mean.”
“Well, yeah, there’s that. But mostly, it’s the goodies.” Winking, she added, “That sweet little wife of yours sure can cook. We’re trying to figure out how you both stay so fit and trim eating brownies and chocolate chip cookies and cheesecake.”
Nate felt more alert today than he had since arriving, but he was still having trouble concentrating. Goodies? And…wife? It had a nice ring to it, but still…why hadn’t anyone corrected the staff?
“You want me to give you a shave so you’ll look handsome for the party?”
Party… Nothing registered. “Did my, ah, wife bring my electric razor? I could do it myself, save you some time.”
She opened a drawer, removed the appliance and placed it at the foot of his bed. “Let’s get this mirror adjusted first. We don’t want you growing one of those nasty little soul patches, now, do we?”
Nate chuckled, then winced.
“You need to laugh more,” she said.
“What are you, a sadist? It hurts when I laugh!”
“But every time you do, it’ll hurt a little less than the time before.” Another wink, and then, “Try it. You’ll see I’m right. Besides, you’re as handsome as a movie star when you do!” Her soft-soled shoes squeaked as she made her way to the door. “And you know what they say…”
“Laughter is the best medicine,” they said together.
Nate laughed, and wished he hadn’t. But the discomfort was quickly forgotten when Eden padded into the room.
“That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard all week.”
“That old saw? You need to get out more.” He almost tacked on “…wife” but thought better of it. “What’s in the bag?” he asked through his wired-shut teeth.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
And before he could press her for more information, his parents joined them. They, too, carried a bag.
His mom pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “There’s a little color in your cheeks today!”
Kirk arrived next, with all of the boys in tow. Then, Zach and Summer.
“Better close the door,” Nate advised. “For some strange reason, the hospital frowns on mobs.”
“Time to get this party started,” Eden said. “Who’s hungry? I made mini-sandwiches and mini-quiches and mini-cheesecakes!”
Amazing, he thought, watching the lively interaction. He’d loved half of them since birth, and though he’d come to know the other half only recently, his growing fondness for the boys was just as genuine.
And then there was Eden, who’d hung the funny sign above his bed and decked out his room, organized this little bash and kept the staff happy so they’d spoil him rotten.
Eden, his very own slice of paradise.
*
HE’D BEEN OUT cold when the phone rang, dreaming that he and Patches were moving full tilt along the tree line. Blinking, he groped for his phone and muttered a groggy hello.
“Took you long enough. What happened? Lose the phone in the sofa cushions again?”
Big mistake, Nate thought, telling Sam that until he could maneuver the stairs, all on his own, he was stuck here on his folks’ couch. He’d been deflecting mama’s boy references for more than a week now, and running out of smart-aleck comebacks. “Better watch it, cousin. I know where all of your bodies are buried.”
Sam laughed. “Ah, there’s the old spit and vinegar I know and love. And by the way? You talk pretty good with your mouth wired shut!”
“If nothing else, I try.” Nate sat up straighter, and grunted with the effort.
“Ah, they weaned you off the feel-good juice, did they?”
“Didn’t have to,” Nate said, smirking, “’cause I wouldn’t let ’em hook me up in the first place.” At least, not since his release from the hospital.
“Liar.”
The cousins shared a moment of quiet, companionable laughter.
“But seriously, how are you?”
“Same as last time you called. Stiff, sore, bruised, grouchy, dopey…”
“Well, when Snow White comes back to fluff your pillows, have her call the doc. Maybe he can give you a little something to make you sleepy.”
“That’s mean, making a guy laugh with three broken ribs.”
“Sorry.”
“Liar,” Nate copied. “So what’s new in Nashville? Have you jammed with any big country stars lately?”
“Now who’s mean? I haven’t had time to tune the old Yamaha, let alone take her on a pub crawl.”
Seemed a shame that a guy with as much talent as Sam hadn’t caught a break. It couldn’t have been easy, moving cross-country to pursue a dream, only to discover there were ten thousand equally talented musicians in line ahead of him. A lesser man would have come home, or let the situation turn him into a self-pitying drunk. Instead, Sam had turned his second-biggest dream into a reality, and signed on with the Nashville Fire Department.
“You’re being careful down there, right?”
“You know it.”
“Okay, out with it. What’s the real reason you called?”
“To see how you’re doing.”
“Uh-huh. What’s her name?”
“Can’t get anything past you, can—”
A blaring alarm interrupted Sam’s sentence, the call to duty.
“Gotta go,” he said. “Call you tonight.”
“Be careful, Sam.”
“You know it,” he said, and hung up.
Nate winced as he reached over to put the phone back in its charger. He didn’t know how Sam did it day in and day out—leaving the firehouse without knowing what he’d find at the scene…or if he and his colleagues would return unharmed.
He flipped through the TV channels, and then gave in to drowsiness. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he opened his eyes. Was he dreaming? He blinked a few times to sharpen his focus.
“You look so much better today,” Eden said.
“Uh-huh.” He ran a hand through his hair, then scrubbed it over his stubbly chin. “How’d you get in here?”
She wiggled her fingers.
“Hello, yourself.”
“You need to watch more cops-and-robbers shows,” she said, wiggling them again.
“I know that fingers thing means hello or goodbye in every language. And that it’s how safecrackers warm up their—”
“Your mother let me in.”
“Ah. So tell me, what brings you out on this snowy winter day?”
“Oh, just…” Eden shrugged. “Stuart says hi.”
He started to sit up, but she stopped him.
“Your mom told me the physical therapy session took a lot out of you today. She also said you’re talking too much, and that’s why your poor jaw is all swollen still.” She glanced around, at sports magazines, newspapers and a novel or two. “Can I get you anything?”
He wanted to say, “A kiss would be nice.” Instead, Nate fished his water bottle out of the crevice between the sofa cushions, took the straw from his pocket and said, “All set. But thanks. How’s Thomas?”
“Better. But he’s a long way from coming back to Pinewood.”
“How do the bo
ys feel about that?”
“They’re confused, and that’s understandable. They’re also angry with him.”
“Why? It was my barn he destroyed.”
“They think the world of you, that’s why, and they nearly lost you, thanks to Thomas.”
“So dramatic.” He paused, happy to lie there and just look at her. “Talk to Shamus lately?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. Guess who moved in across the hall from him at the assisted living center?”
“I stink at guessing games.”
“Cora.”
He grinned. “No kiddin’. So they’re…a couple?”
“I should say so. They’ve even set a date.”
“Well, I’ll be.”
“Nate?” She knelt beside the couch, rested a hand on his forearm. “The real reason I’m here is to apologize.”
“What? Why!”
“For dumping all my problems in your lap, then punishing you for having the wherewithal to offer to help me.”
“Ooh, wherewithal. This sounds serious.”
She rolled her eyes. “All right. The abbreviated version, then. I didn’t do a very good job of showing my appreciation after your generous donation to Pinewood. You deserved better, so I’m sorry.”
“Sorry that you didn’t behave well? Or sorry that I deserve better? There’s a big difference, you know.” He forgot himself and shrugged, and paid for it with a sharp pain in his side. Eden’s eyes widened, and she rose slightly. To do what, he couldn’t say, but Nate felt bad for scaring her. “I’m fine. Honest. So relax.” He paused a beat. “You were saying?”
She got the joke, and clucked her tongue. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But only sometimes.”
Oh, how he loved that face. Whatever problems cropped up, they’d solve them. He’d help her with the boys—until they had a few of their own—and then he’d help her with them.
“Better not smile that way around any EPA offices,” he said. “They’re liable to cite you as a contributing factor in global warming.”
She blushed. “They call it climate change these days.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
Eden sat back on her heels, head tilted as she studied his face.
“What? Is there spinach stuck in my jaw wires?”
“You shouldn’t suck spinach through a straw. Your jaw will never heal.”
“Point made and taken.”
“There are a lot of things to like about you, Nate Marshall.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
She counted on her fingers. “You’re a man of your word, and good to your family. Generous, kind, patient. The boys have learned a lot from you. They need you, you know.” She stopped counting. “I need you, and if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my days proving how much I appreciate you.”
Nate slid his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Was that…was that a proposal?
In place of an answer, Eden leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.
When she sat back on her heels, he tucked a curl behind her ear.
“I love you, Eden.”
“I love you, too, Nate.”
He winked, which was about the only thing he could do that didn’t hurt.
“In that case,” he said, “the answer is yes.”
*
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ISBN-13: 9781460389386
Sweet Mountain Rancher
Copyright © 2015 by Loree Lough
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