by Arlene James
Once more he stayed at Chatam House, though he took Ricky with him to his house for fresh clothing first. Brooks refused to believe that one day soon Eva wouldn’t join the two of them there. He had to believe it. He couldn’t bear to believe anything else.
On Thursday he dropped Ricky off at school and drove back into Dallas. When he walked into the ICU cubicle and found it empty, he panicked. His doctor’s brain knew that she was most likely awake and in a regular room somewhere, but the man who loved Eva Belle Russell only knew that she was not where he’d left her, and he went on a tear, demanding to know where she was and what was happening.
She had been assigned a room, but she was not there, as it happened. She was in the neurology lab undergoing tests, and this time nothing Brooks said or did got him entry. Furious, he called everyone from Murdock to the surgeon and anesthesiologist, but the newest doctor on the case, the neurologist, called the shots, and he had locked out Brooks. The reasons for it were no doubt solid and numerous. The average family member never got access, after all. Nevertheless, Brooks did something he never did: he lost his temper—which finally got him a meeting with the neurologist.
“You’ve interrupted my work just to get a partial report!” the pale, insipid fellow sniffed.
“Is she fully conscious?” Brooks demanded.
“Yes.”
“Motor skills?”
“Normal.”
“Speech impairment?”
“None.”
“Cognitive abilities?”
“So far so good,” the fellow informed him. “The main problem seems to be memory.”
Brooks’s blood ran cold. “What has she forgotten?”
“That has not been fully determined yet, but I should have a very good idea within the next hour or so.”
Brooks checked his watch. “I have to go so I can pick up my...her son from school.”
“I’ll leave the report in her room for you.”
“Fair enough.”
He wound up confessing his sin of anger as he drove toward Buffalo Creek to pick up Ricky from school, not even having glimpsed Eva. What would he do if she had forgotten him? He would start over, woo her, win her heart, do whatever he had to do. He would fight for her, and he would keep on praying.
After picking up Ricky from school, Brooks called Chatam House to tell everyone there what he’d found out about Eva’s condition while he and Ricky drove into Dallas. Again. For the first time, Brooks realized what families with patients in hospitals really went through, and he resolved to be more compassionate than he had before with the arrangements he made in the future. Having a loved one in the hospital, especially any distance from home, proved to be a traumatic experience for everyone involved.
He was shocked when he pushed through the door of Eva’s room and found Morgan and Lyla there. Eva sat up in bed, a bright, welcoming smile on her face, despite the apparatus caging her head and keeping it still.
“Hi, there!” she sang out.
Relief shot through Brooks. “You know me?”
“Of course, I know you. You’re the hunky doctor I love. I don’t have a clue as to your name, but I know everything else about you.”
He hadn’t really heard anything since the word love, and his expression must have shown it because Morgan punched him in the arm and said, “Tell her your name, stupid.”
“Uh. Brooks L-Leland,” he stuttered, dropping Ricky’s hand and moving mechanically toward the bed. “Brooks Harris Leland.”
“Get down here and kiss me, Doc. Now that I am on the mend you are going to have to learn to toe the line, buster.”
Smiling, he bent and placed both hands on the bed, one on either side of her. She’d filled out some over these past weeks, enough to add some lushness to her curves and make his heart race. Very carefully but quite thoroughly, he kissed her.
Afterward, he asked, “Do you recall me telling you that I love you?”
She frowned. “I seem to remember something about making it this far.”
He kissed her again and said, “I love you.”
She grinned and quipped, “I have witnesses, you know, and one of them is my handsome son.” She crooked a finger at Ricky and said, “Come here, sugar, and tell me your name.”
He looked confused for a moment, so Brooks explained that in some cases, stroke victims forgot the names of people they knew, even people they knew very well. They might remember everything else about a person but forget their names. They might also forget other things, but they would be things they could relearn.
“It is,” he said, “no big deal in this case.”
“Sweetie,” she said to Ricky, “I didn’t know my own name until they told me this morning.”
Ricky’s eyebrows jumped at that. “My name is Ri—” He broke off and started again, glancing at Brooks. “My name is Richard Russell Allenson. The guys at school call me Rich.”
She nodded. “I like it.”
“It’s because of the limo and Chatam House and everything,” he confessed. “It used to be Ricky, but I like Rich best, and when you guys are married can I change my last name to Leland?”
Brooks imagined that Eva looked as stunned as he felt.
“Did you, um, ask me to marry you and I forget?” she quipped, rolling her eyes up at him.
“Nooo, but now that the matter’s been raised...” He could hear Morgan snickering behind him and elbowed Ricky—er—Rich in the shoulder, muttering, “You could’ve waited until I bought a ring at least.”
Ricky/Rich shrugged. Brooks sighed and picked up her hand in his.
“Eva Belle Russell,” he began.
“That’s me,” she quipped, winking at everyone else in the room.
“Will you—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she interrupted. “I refuse to be proposed to in a hospital bed. Besides, I can’t remember the names of everyone I want to invite to the wedding right now.”
Brooks bit his lip and bowed his head. “Noted.”
She grinned and said, “And after this fiasco that rock better be worth the travail.”
Brooks laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Morgan started pounding him on the back then, and Lyla was telling Eva all about their hurried wedding, and Rich wanted to know how soon they could open the pool at their house. Brooks thought the kid would faint dead away from sheer delight when he told him the thing was heated. Then somehow they were all on their knees around that bed, thanking God.
* * *
No day could be more perfect for a proposal than Valentine’s Day. Rich escorted his mom into the breakfast room where Brooks waited. The days since Eva’s surgery had been busy ones. She was none too steady on her feet still, but she’d strapped on her red high heels, anyway, and made herself as presentable as possible, despite the bandage underneath her hair.
Chester had laid a fire, and the table was covered with crisp white linens. Music played via a system moved in from the family room. Eva had heard whispers about the selections to be played tonight, as well as the menu: Cornish hens, braised potatoes, asparagus. The whole Chatam family seemed to have had a hand in planning the event. They were lovely, although Eva still could not recall half their names. Brooks had assured her that remembering who was who was no small feat, even for those who hadn’t suffered a stroke.
Brooks wore his good black suit, a white shirt and a red tie, in keeping with the holiday theme; a big, heart-shaped box of chocolates was clutched in the crook of one arm and a bouquet of red roses in the other hand. He thrust the flowers at her, but she barely had time to sniff them before her son snatched them away and plunked them, wrapping and all, into a waiting vase of water. The chocolates came next. She admired the cellophane-wrapped box until Rich took it and placed it on the table. Then he gave her
a quick hug, all but pushed her into a chair, winked at Brooks and hurried from the room.
Their secluded little table wasn’t really secluded at all, as their friends, their family, waited in the dining room to celebrate what could only be a foregone conclusion. The silly man had to know that she loved him insanely, just as she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he loved her. Still, she treasured these romantic gestures more than she could say.
When he went down on one knee, she started to cry. She couldn’t help it. She always cried when she was deliriously happy. Then he showed her the ring, and she had to joke because she always joked when she was appalled.
“Darling, why didn’t you just mount the van in a platinum setting? I’ll need armed guards if I try to wear that in public.”
“You’ll wear it and happily,” he told her, sliding the freakishly large diamond onto her finger. It was fabulous.
“Now, say you’ll marry me.”
“I’ll marry you.”
He got up, pulled her to her feet and kissed her, long and so well that they eventually drew applause, for the others had grown tired of waiting for the announcement and had come to peek. They turned together, arm in arm, to beam at their audience. The aunties stood there in the front, smiling benignly.
“There will be one more wedding to celebrate,” said Hypatia, back on her feet and beaming.
“Thanks to Chatam House,” Brooks confirmed, smiling down at Eva.
“And the faith that fills it,” she added, tilting her head onto his shoulder.
“One more happy ending,” Odelia trilled, clapping her hands together so that her heart-shaped earrings bounced above the pink-and-red ruffles on her shoulders.
“But let the ending be a long time coming,” offered Magnolia sagely.
“A very long time,” Brooks promised.
“From your lips,” Eva whispered, touching her fingertip softly to those beloved features before lifting her hand high, “to God’s ears.”
She no longer doubted that He heard or answered in the way that was best for all concerned. She understood so much now, and she finally knew where and to whom she belonged. She knew right from wrong and good from bad and best from merely better—and where to find out what she didn’t know. She looked at her son and saw his smile, and thanked God for what He had wrought from her foolishness.
On that thought, she bit her lip and waved her hand in front of her eyes, but it did no good. When the first sob broke through, the Chatams all gasped in dismay, but Brooks just gathered her gently against him, saying, “It’s all right. She does this when she’s happy.”
Eva pointed a finger at Kent, wailing, “You, Money Bags, better invest in tissues, quick. I have the feeling I’m going to be d-doing this for the n-next thirty or forty y-years!”
They all laughed while she wept against Brooks’s chest.
It could not have been more wonderful.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from FALLING FOR HER BOSS by Bonnie K. Winn.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever been afraid to hope? The fear of failure, of not getting what we desperately want or need, can blunt our hope. Sometimes we give up rather than face the prospect of disappointment. Think of disappointing to the point of injury someone you love, the one person to whom you owe protection and consideration. That was the situation in which Eva Russell found herself: powerless, hopeless, desperate to protect the person who mattered most to her—only to find that others could matter, and hope has its own power when grounded in faith.
Aren’t you glad that God is never powerless, that He is never without hope and never without purpose? Even when things don’t work out just as we think they should, we can always trust that He is in control and has our best interests at heart. Now that gives me hope!
God bless,
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.
You believe hearts can heal. Love Inspired stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.
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Falling for Her Boss
by Bonnie K. Winn
Chapter One
Tessa Pierce crossed then recrossed her legs. For the past ten years she had been on the other side of the desk during interviews, but that wasn’t the reason she was uncomfortable. Morgan Harper, owner and president of Harper Petroleum, didn’t so much make her nervous, just more on edge than she’d expected. She knew the workings of oil and gas companies, how to work for a single-minded boss. Mr. Harper affected her in a different way.
“My assistant, Miss Ellis, knew exactly how I wanted things done,” he was saying. “She worked for my father, then me, so she had years of experience. Retiring was—” he paused “—appropriate considering her age. But I don’t have time to train someone new in every aspect of my business.”
Tessa tilted her head in the direction of her résumé, laid neatly on his desk. “As you can see, I’ve had considerable experience in most areas of the oil and gas industry. Through its subsidiaries, Traxton has a hand in all stages of production.”
Morgan didn’t glance at her résumé. Tessa had the uncanny feeling that he had memorized the document. “Ten years with one employer is unusual for someone your age.”
“I joined Traxton Oil right out of college. And they promote from within.”
Morgan placed two fingers at one temple, indenting the skin as though trying to ward off a headache. “You’ve been with them this long, so why make a change?”
It was a question Tessa had prepped for and the truth had never failed her. “I want a new start because of my divorce.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Houston’s a pretty big place. Not enough room in it for you and your ex?”
“No,” she replied simply, evenly, definitively.
He stared at her, his dark eyes appearing to bore for truth or deceit. “Cindy Mallory told me you intend to relocate to Rosewood. That the cottage that comes with the job is a big incentive. You should take into consideration that Rosewood’s nothing like the city.”
Her voice remained even. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
“If your references check out, when can you start?”
“Immediately. I’ve already worked my two weeks’ notice.”
“And if I don’t hire you?”
“With my experience, someone in oil country will. But I would enjoy having a good friend here in town. Cindy and I have known each other since we were kids. And I like what I’ve seen of Rosewood. Houston’s invigorating, constantly busy. I’m not—” she cleared her throat “—in need of that right now.”
“Bad divorce?” he asked.
Her lips tightened.
“Sorry. Not in the accepted lineup of interview questions. Then again I’ve never met anyone who claimed to have a good divorce, so I think I have my answer.” Abruptly he stood.
Tessa stood as well, waiting for his decision.
“If we can work out an acceptable salary and employment contract, I assume you’ll need some time to get moved.”
“I brought the necessities. I can send for the rest of my things.”
He glanced down at the calendar. “Since it’s Thursday, plan to start on Monday.”
So it was a yes. She exhaled, fighting the urge to slump in relief. Perfect situations weren’t plentiful. And this one promised to be n
ear ideal. Although Cindy had offered her guest room, Tessa didn’t want to impose. Since the divorce, she had needed a lot of downtime. Alone time, she admitted, hating that it was true. Time when she didn’t have to talk about her ex, Karl, why everything had gone so wrong. Why she was now alone.
Morgan frowned. “Do you have transportation?”
“My car,” she replied.
He opened a drawer in his desk, then fished out a key. “Dorothy is my housekeeper. She’ll show you to the cottage.”
Holding her portfolio and purse with one hand, she extended the other.
He dropped the key into the palm of her hand. “I don’t know what Cindy told you, but the cottage isn’t anything elaborate. Miss Ellis was comfortable there, but I doubt it’s what you’re used to in Houston.”
Tessa lifted her gaze, meeting his. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Anything without Karl, without memories, would be welcome.
Morgan glanced at his watch. “You’ll find Dorothy in the rear hall. She’s expecting you.”
Tessa drew her dark eyebrows together. “You were that sure I’d be right for the job?”
He neither smiled nor scowled, but she saw a flicker of disapproval in his eyes. “Dorothy is just that good.”
Tessa slipped the key into her jacket pocket, then extended her hand. “I look forward to Monday.”
His handshake made her swallow. Silly. She was accustomed to shaking plenty of hands during business hours. Still... Tessa turned toward the doorway of the study, trying to focus on where the rear hall would be.
* * *
Morgan watched her walk away. Efficient. That had been apparent from her résumé and the first words of her interview. He had expected her to be. Cindy and Flynn Mallory were good friends and he knew they wouldn’t oversell Tessa’s abilities. But something else had also been apparent. Tessa was guarded. Very guarded. He had never been divorced, but he guessed it was an ugly process. For a woman who had been very rooted in her career and life, Tessa was acting like an outlaw on the run. Cindy had unconsciously reinforced that impression when she had told him that Tessa was solid and dependable. Ten years with Traxton. No moving around.