by Aubrey Cara
Jake looked around them to see the patient. The little woman was looking dazed and confused lying back on the hospital pillows. Her squinting eyes searched the room. He thought she looked like a newborn fawn opening its weak eye lids for the first time. He took another step into the room and announced himself with a cough.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” he said. “I think you could step outside a minute and let this nice lady do her job.” His gentle command was quickly heeded as the two younger officers coughed and grumbled their “Yes sir”, “Of course, sir.”
*** ***
Delia’s head was pounding. The overhead light made her eyes feel as if they were going to throb out of their sockets. Her mouth felt like cotton and paste. Getting her bearings she scanned the hospital room, noticing the three men standing by the door and a nurse next to the bed checking the IV.
The doctor, a round little man with too much aftershave and beady eyes behind his glasses, poked and prodded with sweaty hands. Shining his pin light in her sensitive eyes he ordered precautionary scans done, but assured her that he didn’t suspect internal damage and she should be fine.
Not dead, I’m not dead. The mantra played over and over again in her head.
“You’re awake.”
This came from a tall, overly good looking man, that now stood alone in the room. She searched his face trying to place him. He looked like he could be an underwear model. Did this man know her? How long had she been out? These and about a million other questioned popped into her head. However, before she could even open her mouth the man was talking again in gentle tones.
He inched closer to the bed as he spoke as if not to scare her away. Not that she could go anywhere as weak and disoriented as she felt.
“How ya feel’n? You’ve got a pretty good gash on your head. I’m sure your head is throbbing. I’m surprised you’re even awake. I’m Captain Jake Forrester. I pulled you from your truck. Do you remember anything? Do you know where you are?”
Feeling even more disoriented than she did before she said the only thing that she could think of. “I’m not dead.”
“No, no you're not.”
“I’m in Virginia still?”
“Yes, you’re at Virginia Baptist the nearest hospital to Hope Springs. That’s where the accident happened. If you’re up to it, I would like to ask you some questions.”
“Go ahead.”
The police officer, Captain Forrester, turned around and found a chair that he grabbed and pulled close the bed.
“What’s your name?”he asked.
“Delia.” Taking a steadying breath she added, “Delia Myers, just Delia Myers.”
If he thought that answer odd he didn’t show it. He just continued with his questioning. “Did you not see the truck coming at you? Why didn’t you swerve?” He looked momentarily surprised, like he hadn't meant to ask that. Still his gaze bore into her as if they could determine all the answers he sought.
Her face contorted as she turned her head away from his view. All the turmoil of the past day rolled over her in that one moment. A heavy weight crushing down on her chest. She breathed heavily trying to get her emotions under control.
“Do you recall where you were headed?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Maine I guess,” she responded, trying to hold back tears. “I was going away, starting over. Only the more I drove the more I felt like Maine wasn’t far enough, and starting over wasn’t good enough. I just wanted to go away. Cease to exist. I don’t even know how I got on that road. I wasn’t even registered into the fact that I was still driving. I was just angry and hurt, and I just...I just wanted it to be over.”
By the end of her speech her voice was flat. She continued as if no longer a part of herself. “There I was flying down the road and I couldn’t stop. I had to get as far away as I could go. I didn’t want to stop.” Looking up at his face she whispered, “I didn’t want to stop.” Coming back into herself she finally noticed the strong warm hand holding hers. She wasn’t sure when this man had taken her hand in his, but it was oddly comforting.
*** ***
Jake felt huge and imposing looking down on such a fragile thing. She looked so deflated and lost. His heart constricted a little. He had dealt with a lot of perps and victims over the years. He always had a cool head and knew when to leave emotions out of it. Rational and controlled were the traits that had gotten him captain. Never had he felt less rational than he did looking at this woman with tears tracking down her cheeks. Not even realizing that he covered her hand with his, he gave it a squeeze.
“I don’t need you to comfort me,” she said.
“Odd, you seem to look like a person who needs comforting.” She chose to ignore this instead asking about the driver of the oncoming truck.
“Drunken fool will be fine,” he answered. “Even though you were speeding you’re not at fault for the accident. He will be going to jail for drunk and reckless driving. You have a pretty bad concussion, but you should be checked out of here in the morning. There anyone I can call, friends, family?”
“I have a drunken mother I haven’t talked to in seven years. If she’s not dead, and you find her, you could call her.”
“Doesn’t anyone know you were leaving, where you were going?”
With a derisive laugh she shook her head. “My travel plans were spur of the moment. You know carpe diem and all that. Look you seem to be a nice guy, but your job is done. I’d like to be alone now.” So saying she pulled her hand back turning onto her side, into herself. Just like that Jake had been dismissed.
“That’s a pretty big chip on your shoulder,” he said. She didn’t even flinch at this statement and Jake had decided that she had been through enough for one day. There was no reason to push her. He came to see for himself if she was all right and she was just fine…physically. Seemed she had been emotionally broken long before she was hit by a truck.
“All right,” he said. “You win, for now. I’ll be back in the morning.”
The decision was made in an instant. He wasn’t sure why he felt pulled to this Delia Myers, but one thing was certain, this little broken woman was a puzzle that he needed all the pieces in order to be put back together. Whether she wanted to be put back together or not.
CHAPTER TWO
“Rise and shine hun. The doctor said you can go home today. Just need to take it easy. You bashed your head pretty good last night.”
Delia reluctantly woke as the perky plump nurse bustled around the room. Plunking down a tray of what looked to be congealed eggs, runny grits, dry toast and a cup of coffee — probably cold— she breezed out the door as quickly as she came in.
Whipping back around, with the top half of her body hanging in the doorway, the nurse gave Delia a knowing smile of delight. “You have a very handsome man waiting on you down stairs. Says his name is Captain Forrester, and he’ll be escorting you wherever you need to go today. You’re a lucky girl.” This was said with a bright smile and a wink in Delia’s direction before the nurse ducked back out of the room.
“Ugh.” Throwing the blankets back over her head she waited for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Every muscle in her body ached, and she was pretty sure hair was growing on her tongue. When she was finally convinced that she wasn’t going to get her wish of death or just blissful oblivion of blacking out, she threw off the covers and hopped from bed. Her legs, much weaker than she realized, collapsed under her, forcing her to catch herself on the hospital bed.
Lying with the upper half of her body on the bed face down, a painful throb started behind her eyes, and she again wondered why the Earth was not being kind and swallowing her whole.
Clutching the sterile smelling sheet with her face pressed to the mattress, Delia began berating God for everything that had gone wrong in her life. From her drunken mother, to her nonexistent father, to the dog that bit her in fifth grade. She let it all out to a face full of mattress, finally allowing herself to have the angry pity fest
that was twenty-nine years in the making.
That, unfortunately was how Captain Jake Forrester found her five minutes later.
*** ***
Jake stood waiting in the front lobby getting attention from every female receptionist, nurse, and attendee that passed by. Now he was coming to feel like a particularly juicy piece of meat these lionesses were circling, with sweet smiles and calculating eyes.
Even though he thought Delia Myers was probably in no better state of mind than last night, he headed toward the double doors of the elevator to meet her at her room. He realized on the way up she could have already heard he was here, and from her not so pleasant reception last night he instinctively knew he would have to expect the unexpected with this one.
Thus it was with a sense of urgency he stepped from the elevator, wanting to head her off, if she had not already snuck off under his radar. Moving at a quick clip he bypassed the nurses’ station, and any attention he may garner from the nurses there. Rounding the corner he came to a halt in the doorway of her room.
Ms. Myers lay face down on her hospital bed. Her legs hung over the side, her bottom in the air, her hospital gown gaping in the back. She would have presented one of the sexiest sights he had ever seen, had she not been wearing overly large Hanes Her Way faded floral print underwear. On top of that she seemed to be muttering nonsensical utterances into the mattress.
He had to quickly rein himself in when an image of her not wearing anything while in the same position, her hands fisted in the sheets for a completely different reason, rose to the forefront of his mind. Trying to dispel the image of her sweet shapely figure underneath him, his hand smacking down on that floral covered bottom, he thought the one word that never failed to help cool his ardor since he was a horny teen. Grandma.
Yet, it regrettably did not come out so much as a thought he was going for, but more like a very loud cannon blast into the room. Ms. Myers' head whipped up and around, her swollen eyes landed squarely on him before flaring in frustration and giving an angry mournful cry of “Why?!” toward the ceiling. This surprised him more than hearing himself yell “Grandma”. Stepping into the room, he quickly and quietly shut the door behind him.
“Ms. Myers?” he asked.
She was now flipped onto her back, paying no attention to him as he moved into the room. She stared up at the ceiling, but this time instead of the muttering he could not understand, she spoke loud and clear. Angry tears of frustration tracked down the sides of her face.
“Why? What did I do?” she said. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t fu— fu— deserve this shhhhhit.” Stuttering out the swear words seemed to sap all her strength. Completely deflated she curled on to her side, drew her knees up to her chest, and started sobbing in earnest.
Now Jake had never been what one would call “good” with women, that is, outside of a bar or bedroom. The longest relationship he ever had ended with the woman having another man's baby, and then leaving him and the baby as soon as her cheating self got a chance.
He had been young when it happened. Still the fact remained he had questioned his choice in women so much over the years he eventually gave up on dating all together. That would be why the sight of a sobbing woman triggered panic to seize his chest. He was frantically looking around the room for help he already knew wasn’t there when Ms. Myers snapped to. Sitting up straight and pointed an accusing finger in his direction, “You!”
Even though he knew there was no one else in the room he couldn’t stop himself from peeking behind himself before giving a lame, “Me?”
“Yes, you! You’re everything that’s wrong with the world. Bastard men like you. You think you're so good looking.”
He shrugged. He wasn't peacock but he knew he wasn't bad looking either.
Sneering in disgust she continued, “Struttin' and swaggering around. Flashing your perfect smile, oozing charm with your chiseled perfect face, and those deep blue eyes.”
He never thought to have a woman complain about his good looks but she looked like she wanted to throw up when she said it. “I’ll try not to take that personally,” he said. “Since I don’t think it’s me you’re really upset with.”
“Ugh! Just shut up! I’ve spent less than five minutes with you and I already know your game. You’re all the same, and I hate you all. I hate friends that aren’t really your friends, I hate family that’s not really your family, but most of all, I hate husbands that aren’t really your husbands. Men that act all American Hero on the outside and are actually shallow, lying assholes on the inside!” This outburst was punctuated by her picking up the closest thing at hand, a Kleenex box, and throwing at his head. Ducking just in time to dodge the box, he straightened with his hands in the air, a clear sign of surrender.
Shocked by how quickly this scene was deteriorating, he opened his mouth to talk only to be cut off by a shamefaced Delia Myers. Her hand covered her mouth as if not to allow anything else slip through, a fact he could only be grateful for. Being told you were a lying bastard and hated by a beautiful, sobbing woman first thing in the morning was the epitome of everything he had been avoiding by not dating.
Oddly enough, he found he didn’t mind it so much from this particular beautiful woman, standing less than five feet across the small hospital room from him with overly bright red-rimmed eyes. With her hand still covering her mouth it was clear she was just as shocked by her outburst as he was.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve never…I shouldn’t have…I can’t believe I just said all that.” Taking a cleansing, shaky breath she lowered her hand and continued on, still clearly taken aback but brightening, “Wow, I feel so much better. That felt wonderful, you have no idea. I’ve never yelled at anyone before! A good woman, a good wife never has need to raise her voice. Not that it has done me any good. Maybe I should have yelled a long time ago. I never knew how good it would feel. I was always so scared about how Connar would react if I got upset with him. Ha! I’m so stupid. Lord knows being a good wife got me nowhere.”
He didn’t know what to say. She stood there, hair a mess and tear tracks drying on her face. She wore a goofy grin, looking as if the weight of the world was off her shoulders. From what was just revealed by her small outburst, he supposed a huge weight had been lifted. He couldn’t imagine going through life afraid to lose his temper. Needing to be complacent at all times had to be exhausting.
“Glad to be of service,”he said.
She automatically became contrite, and he regretted being the one to break through her revelry. “I’m so sorry, Captain Forrester, wasn’t it?
“Captain Jake Forrester, but women who accuse me of being a lying asshole can just call me Jake.”
She blushed, clearly embarrassed. “I can't believe I yelled at a perfect stranger.” He watched as some of the jubilation of standing up for herself diminished as what must have been guilt of what she did set in.
“That was wrong of me. My world may be topsy turvy just now, but that is no reason to take it out on a stranger. I’m sure you’re a very nice man…Well, actually I’m not sure. I just discovered I'm a really bad judge of character.” Straightening and gaining conviction she continued, “I am not going to reassure you that you’re a good person. I don’t know you. You may very well be a shallow lying bastard.”
“Asshole,” he said.
“Pardon?”
He tried not to allow his amusement to show, but he couldn’t help a silly lopsided grin from forming. He couldn’t remember ever being so smitten. “I believe your exact phrase was ‘shallow, lying asshole’, which I’m not, by the way. Not that I expect you to believe me. I understand. I retrieved these out of the cab of your truck.” He pulled out the once crumpled ball of divorce papers, still wrinkled despite his attempts to smooth them out. He went on, “They hauled your truck out of the gully. It's pretty beat up. The front's smashed in. I saw it in the impound lot and thought to get you a change of clothes, since your outfit from yesterday is probably
covered in blood. The thing is, I didn’t find any change of clothes or a purse. Just those papers and a dog collar. I left the collar in the truck. I assume someone’s watching your dog. Since we didn’t find anything on the ground out and around the scene of the crash, I take it you were in a hurry to get to Maine, wasn’t it? I also noticed the truck was registered to one Connar Schmidt. So Delia Myers,” he said purposely using her maiden name. “Would you like to tell me what happened yesterday?”
“I didn’t steal the truck.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You implied…”
He gave a heavy sigh, “Yes I know, I’m sorry, I saw his name was also on your divorce papers. I know it’s your husband’s truck.”
“Then why did you make it sound like I stole it?”
“I don’t know, I just…look, do you want to talk about what happened or not?” He couldn’t help the frustration that crept into his voice. He knew it made him sound a bit harsh. Her next statement made it obvious she wasn't about to ignore his rude tone.
“Thanks so much for asking,” she said sarcastically, “But no, I do not. Now, Captain Forrester, it was so nice of you to drop off these papers.” Giving a derisive laugh she flicked them onto the side table. “Now I think it’s time for you to go.”
“For a gal that just found her backbone you sure don’t hesitate to use it.” This statement earned him a glare he was sure was meant to filet him on the spot. Coming from Texas he had heard plenty of men comment on a woman needing a good firm spanking, but he had always thought that line of thinking was archaic. He must be losing his mind, because right then he thought cute and contradictory Delia Myers was the kind of woman you wanted to sass you just so you could paddle her bottom, then cuddle her close.
Arms crossed over her chest, she lifted her quivering chin a notch and shrugged a dainty shoulder with much bravado. “I have about thirty years to make up for, and for your information my dog’s collar was in my truck cause he got ran over by a semi last week and is dead.”