His twenty-four hours were up, and he wanted out.
Olivia was late.
A perky brunette in a white uniform and squeaky shoes arrived to take his blood pressure.
Chafing at the delay, he wasn’t surprised when she raised an eyebrow and said, “Let’s try that again.”
Drew took a calming breath. “Okay.”
“Much better.”
Then Olivia walked in, and Drew’s pulse went up.
The nurse smiled. “Never mind. You’ll live.”
At the comment, Olivia looked worried. “Is anything wrong?”
“That’s my line. You’re late.”
“Five minutes!” She said out of breath. “I drove right past the first time. I’m not that familiar with the area.”
Somewhat mollified by her explanation, he said, “Now that you’re here, can we leave?”
The nurse objected, “But we haven’t discharged you.”
Drew grabbed his jacket. His left arm was in a sling and temporarily out of commission.
“I’m discharging myself.” And he walked out.
Left behind, Olivia glanced at the nurse. “Is there anything I should know about any further treatment?”
“The doctor left instructions for hot and cold packs, a light diet and a prescription for pain medication.” The nurse handed over a sheet of paper with the list.
“Thank you.” Clutching it in her hand, Olivia caught up with Drew by the elevator.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
He turned his head to look at her. “Don’t I look it?”
Restraining the urge to touch him, she smiled. “Actually you look as if you got hit by a freight train.”
“Or a tree.” He pulled her against his side, then turned his head to stare into her eyes. “It could have been worse.”
He kissed her temple. His breath stirred the fine gold tendrils of her hair. He didn’t say another word.
He didn’t have to.
Olivia knew exactly what he was thinking. They were both lucky to be alive—and together.
By the time they got to Stone’s End, Drew was clearly in pain. He tossed back a couple of painkillers with a glass of water. He refused Olivia’s offer of assistance with the removal of his sheepskin-lined denim jacket and shrugged out of it after a minor struggle.
Feeling helpless, Olivia stood back and watched him. “Is there anything else you need?”
He tossed the jacket on a chair. “I’ll be fine after I catch up on some sleep.”
“You’re sure?”
“Olivia.” His tone was mildly exasperated. “Please don’t fuss.”
“All right.” She clasped her hands behind her back.
Drew watched her lovely face close up and regretted his curt dismissal, but he simply couldn’t handle Olivia, the physical pain radiating down his arm, and his feelings all at the same time.
In the bedroom, he stretched out on the bed.
The room was filled with sunlight. He stared up at the shadows on the ceiling. Sounds of Olivia moving around below drifted up the stairs. She turned on some music and hummed along. Her voice was soft, soothing.
He closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell. For the first time since the accident, he could breathe freely.
He was shocked to admit how good it felt to be home. And Olivia was at the heart of it.
Was it all temporary?
He didn’t have the answer, but one thing he knew. Like everything else he’d once valued in life, it could all disappear in a heartbeat.
Later Olivia found Drew flat on his back in their bed, sound asleep and fully clothed. Apparently he’d been unable to remove his shirt and jeans. He hadn’t asked for any help.
For some reason, that hurt. She didn’t have much experience caring for someone. For most of her life, she’d been too busy struggling to survive under less-than-ideal conditions. She tried to suppress the memories of missed school events, the late meals, the forgotten birthdays, the unpaid rent, all the times she’d expected her mother to be there, all the times she wasn’t. Those were Olivia’s earliest memories.
They’d shaped her past. And at times when she felt most vulnerable, they haunted her still. As a result, she’d never let people get too close. But Drew had breached all her defenses. He’d made her care.
She’d lost so many people in her life. What if she lost Drew?
Until the accident, she hadn’t understood the dangerous aspects of his line of work. Despite the mechanical aids, it was still primitive—man against nature.
One error, one slip, could cripple or end a life. Her carelessness had almost cost Drew’s life. But he was safe now, and so was she. Or was she? He’d risked his own safety for her, which posed an all new risk.
What if losing Drew hurt more than loving him?
Right now, he was here in her bed, in her life.
After breaking down her resistance, he didn’t want her wifely concern. So what did he want? A partner? A lover?
What if she wanted more?
The small crystal bluebird sat atop her dresser, gleaming under a night-light. Happiness eluded her. With a wistful smile, Olivia settled into her rocking chair to watch Drew sleep.
A frown marred his brow; and she worried, was he in pain, despite the prescribed pills? Did he ever dream of her? She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. So this was what it felt like to love someone, to wonder and worry and dream. To share his pain. Of course, she loved Drew.
The realization brought her no comfort.
The room grew cooler.
The chair rocked…and squeaked. At the sound, Drew stirred restlessly.
“Come to bed,” he whispered into the silence.
“I thought you were asleep,” she whispered back. Why the hushed tones when they were both awake escaped her at the moment.
She climbed into bed, careful not to disturb him.
“I was asleep, but I woke up.” He used his good arm to draw her closer. “I just want to hold you.”
She tucked her head into his shoulder, her hand crept under his shirt—she needed to feel him. “You could have been killed.”
Drew felt her nearness to his bones. “But I wasn’t.” He wasn’t ready for this discussion.
Naturally she persisted. “You saved my life. Why?”
With her golden hair, she lit up the night. He lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. “Why do you think?”
Her eyes clouded at his evasion. “I don’t know.”
He smiled slightly. “Well, maybe when you figure it out, you’ll tell me.”
Drew wasn’t prepared to risk any more than he already had where Olivia was concerned. He could survive a dislocated shoulder, a broken bone or two. But not a broken heart. There would be no going back if either of them made an emotional commitment to their marriage.
Maybe falling in love with Olivia had been pre-ordained, but Drew couldn’t be sure of her—not until Jared came home. If their relationship survived her brother’s disapproval, they had a future together. Despite his uncertainty, he held her. With his injured arm in a sling, he couldn’t make love to her, yet he’d never felt closer to a living soul.
He slept late the following morning.
Olivia brought him breakfast on a tray. “I thought you might be hungry.”
He sat up expectantly. “Thanks.” After a brief examination of the colorless contents of the tray—cream of rice, toast and tea—his mood sank. He picked up a spoon.
“You’ve been sleeping for hours.” Olivia plumped up the pillow, then tucked an ice pack under his injured shoulder.
It was freezing, but he didn’t complain.
She adjusted it. “It’s to reduce the swelling.”
He swallowed a mouthful of cereal, then set the spoon aside.
Glancing at the uneaten food a moment later, she said, “You’ve hardly touched your breakfast.”
“Olivia,” he said patiently, “this stuff tastes like baby food. My shoulder’s o
ut of commission. There’s nothing wrong with my stomach. Now, can I have some real food? How about ham and eggs and coffee?”
“I’m sorry, but the doctor ordered a light diet.” She leaned over him to get the tray. “Maybe a soft-boiled egg?”
Shaking his head, Drew reached for her. Caught off balance, Olivia fell across his lap. “Let’s forget about the food,” he said huskily, making his intentions clear when he ran his hand down her spine.
She resisted for a moment. “But what about your shoulder?”
Unable to disguise his desperate need for her, he ignored the burning pain. “Let me worry about my shoulder.”
Her eyes darkened. “Do you believe in fate? That there’s one special person meant for another?”
“Soul mates?” This was no time for a lengthy discussion.
“Something like that.”
Drew couldn’t hide behind lies.
“I believe in you,” he said, realizing it for the first time. Without conscious thought, he’d put his faith in her. With her at his side, anything seemed possible. “Do we need to put it into words? Isn’t it enough to feel this?”
He slid his hand under the hem of her flannel shirt—his shirt…his woman. For the first time in his life, he felt more than an urge to possess.
She was part of him.
Olivia felt a shiver of excitement as she always did when he touched her. But was it enough? She stopped thinking when his mouth found hers. Opening to his invasion, she felt like sinking into him. Without releasing her mouth, he rolled over, carrying her with him. He groaned when she unbuttoned his shirt, sifting her hands through the dark hair on his chest.
Sitting up, she removed her own shirt. Her nipples puckered in the cool air, then his hand warmed her. Getting him out of his jeans proved a more difficult feat. He smiled at her blushes. She’d never undressed a man. At first she felt awkward; but by the time she finished, they were both fully aroused.
As she leaned over him, the sunlight touched every inch of her. To Drew, in that moment she seemed golden. Without saying a word, she came to him. With every move, his injured arm ached. But other parts of his body ached more.
The agony was worth the ecstasy of loving Olivia.
Chapter Fourteen
Eventually they got around to sharing a light breakfast. Drew ate his soft-boiled egg without comment. After they finished eating, Olivia removed the tray, then carried it downstairs. She washed the dishes and neatly stored them away.
Overhead she heard the shower running. When it stopped, she went back to the bedroom and found Drew half-dressed.
So he was going to be stubborn.
He’d removed his sling. A white bandage covered the surgical incision on his shoulder.
With a sigh, Olivia sat on the edge of the bed and watched him awkwardly struggle to get his left arm into the sleeve of a plaid shirt. “What are you doing?” she asked after a few minutes of this.
He glanced at her. “Getting dressed for work. I can still get in a few hours at the mill, do some paperwork.”
She frowned in disapproval. “But Dr. Peterson advised a couple of days of inactivity.”
“I’m fine,” he said. In fact, he looked better than fine.
He looked downright sexy. He’d finally managed to get his shirt on, but the front remained unbuttoned, revealing a wide muscled expanse of chest.
With a pain-filled wince, he slipped his arm back into the sling. He looked around, then in the closet. “Have you seen my boots? Did I leave them downstairs?”
Last night while he slept, Olivia had removed them and placed them at the bedside. With the heel of her foot, she slid them farther under the bed. Determined to make him follow doctor’s orders, she tried to look innocent. “What boots?”
“My work boots,” he said patiently.
She folded her arms. “You don’t need them. There’s no reason for you to rush back to work. I checked with Abby. They can manage without you for a couple of days.”
Drew raised an eyebrow. “Exactly who’s in charge over there?”
“You are, of course. You can get in touch with Abby by phone. This is only a temporary arrangement. Jack is working at the landing and trucking the logs to the sawmill.”
Olivia had neatly arranged everything.
Drew should have felt relieved; instead, he had to acknowledge a sense of chagrin. His injury was a major calamity to him, but only a minor setback to everyone else. So much for his bruised ego. Was that all that was hurting? The answer was fairly obvious. Olivia didn’t need him.
On the surface, she was warm, but it was all part of her act. Underneath the charm, Olivia was holding back, protecting herself from hurt. He couldn’t really blame her. She’d had a shabby childhood. His parents had spoiled him; they might not always have understood him, but he’d always felt loved.
He admired Olivia for surviving the instability of her background. She was independent, maddeningly so at times. He wondered if he would ever really know her. Nevertheless, she aroused all his protective instincts.
Apparently trying to reassure him, Olivia said, “Abby promised to contact you if anything comes up.”
Although uncomfortable, Drew had to accept the fact that he wasn’t desperately needed. Besides, he had little choice but to stay home and follow the doctor’s orders.
Olivia had hidden his boots.
She was kind enough, however, to button his shirt when he insisted on getting dressed.
“I have no intention of spending the day in bed. That is, unless you care to join me…” He placed his free hand on her waist.
“Sorry, I have to get back to work.” With a soft smile to lessen the rejection, she fastened the last button of his shirt.
“I’d rather be taking it off,” he said huskily, then dropped a kiss on her startled mouth.
Her eyes teased him. “Maybe later.”
He laughed. “Is that a promise?”
“Yes.”
That evening, Fred stopped by with a food offering.
Drew stared at the wicker basket. “I hope there’s something red and raw in there.”
“Nope. Chicken soup.”
Drew groaned. “I was hoping for a thick juicy steak.”
Olivia accepted the basket, examining the contents with smiling approval. “The doctor ordered a light diet.”
Nodding sagely, Fred took a seat at the table. “Never argue with a woman when she’s playing nursemaid. It’s a losing battle. Just sit back and enjoy it.”
That was a tall order.
Drew couldn’t relax. Apart from the frustration of being close to Olivia, wanting her with every breath, yet unable to do anything about it, he was itching to get back to work. With work at the sawmill getting under way, he couldn’t afford to let things slide. For the first time in his life, he had something—and someone—to lose.
“Wife’s gone to her church meeting. I haven’t had a good game of cribbage since Ira passed away,” Fred said, gesturing at the game board. “You up to it?”
Conscious of the extended olive branch, Drew nodded. “How about a refresher course on the rules?”
Fred chuckled. “Never had much use for them. But if we had a little music, that would be just about perfect.”
“I’ll find something.” Olivia dug out Ira’s favorite collection of Scottish tunes.
As the music rose, an odd peace settled over the room.
Olivia sat and worked on a commissioned piece. Her canvas was a large piece of heavy cotton stretched on a wood frame.
Drew watched a colorful winter village scene come to life under her hands. The oval rug wasn’t large, but the details were exquisite. It was an idyllic New England winter setting—a skating pond surrounded by skeletal trees. She was currently adding a wreathlike green border.
Drew tried to keep his mind on Fred’s instructions, but his gaze kept straying to Olivia, head bent over her work.
With precision, she selected a green strip of wool, placed it
into a hooklike tool that she pushed through the cotton backing. After pulling the strip through, she carefully clipped the ends to make the pile plush and even. She seemed thoroughly absorbed.
But when she looked up and caught him staring, their eyes locked and he discovered she wasn’t quite as detached as she seemed. He smiled and she blushed…and Fred pretended not to notice.
“Do you skate?” Drew asked idly, more interested in the way the soft rose color climbed in her cheeks.
She shook her head. “Not on ice. Only on rollers.”
Making plans for their future, Drew said, “I’ll teach you to ice-skate. The pond should freeze up soon.”
With the reminder of winter, he shook off a sense of unease, choosing, instead, to take each day as it came.
However, a chill warning encased his heart.
Fred called Drew’s attention back to the game. The evening wore on. Drew concentrated on his strategy, playing and discarding cards as he moved his peg around the holes to victory.
They were tied, ten games each, when Fred said, “One more game to break the tie?”
A competitive edge kicked in as Drew accepted the challenge. He stared at his cards—three fives, a jack of diamonds and two scrub cards. He needed a five of diamonds for a total of twenty-nine—a magic hand. The Super Bowl of hands.
Apparently Olivia felt his tension. She set her frame aside, then came to stand behind his chair. He felt her hand light on his shoulder.
Fred cut the deck. Aware that his chances of getting a perfect hand were slim, if not impossible, Drew turned over the cut card. He stared at the five of diamonds.
Fred shook his head in amazement. “I’ve been playing the game all my life. I’ve never seen a perfect score!” Forgetting Drew’s injury, he slapped Drew on the back.
Still grinning, Drew stifled a pain-filled groan. Adding to his discomfort, Olivia kissed him on the mouth. He wanted her so badly! Would he get to keep her? Like fate, twenty-nine was a fickle number.
Lucky at cards, unlucky at love?
The following morning, Olivia didn’t argue when Drew insisted on going to work. He fixed her with a determined look.
The Wedding Bargain Page 16