“Okay, Gramps, let me have a listen here. Make sure we don’t have any rattling going on in there.”
“Ah boy, don’t you have a pretty young nurse to be chasing on a Friday night rather than coming here and pestering an old man like me? Although I suppose with a mug like yours they’re not running very far or fast, hmm? Except for our Callie here.”
Michael laughed warmly. “You could say that.”
Callie wished now that she’d stayed in the other room.
Michael reached into his bag and pulled out his stethoscope. “Now, be quiet, while I take a listen.” When he seemed satisfied, he slipped his scope back in his bag then took his grandfather’s pulse.
“Well, boy, am I going to make it through the night or is the grim reaper on his way?”
“No such luck, old man.” Michael reached for the thermometer on the side table, pressed it to his grandfather’s ear and waited for a beep, then frowned when he looked at it. “But we do need to keep an eye on this fever.”
“Well, I’m not worried,” Will replied, humor in his voice.
“Oh, yeah, how’s that?”
“Unless your grandmother’s got one foot in the grave, I won’t be going anywhere. She’d take on God and the devil himself before she’ll let them take me without her.”
Amy snorted at that comment. “Truth be told, God’s in no hurry to welcome such an ornery old fool into his pearly-white gates.”
Michael chuckled. “You may be right about that, but to be on the safe side, we may need to start you on a course of antibiotics if this fever is still hanging around tomorrow.”
Will grunted.
Michael packed up his bag, patted his grandfather’s arm, and gave Amy a hug. “Since it’s getting late, let me get out of the way so Callie can get you ready for bed. I’ll check on you in the morning.” He turned, inclined his head toward Callie, then left the room.
Thirty minutes later, Callie was stunned to find a freshly-showered Michael wearing only a white T-shirt and green scrub bottoms, sitting at the kitchen counter drinking a glass of wine—a second glass set across from him. His hair was damp and slightly mussed, and for the first time he appeared to be an ordinary human being. “Is that glass for me?”
“Please grab a chair and join me. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had one hell of a day.”
She moved forward and picked up the glass, taking a sip. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to give up your hot date and drive out here tonight. Tomorrow would have been early enough. I would have called you again if we ran into trouble.”
Michael shook his head and said wryly, “If you call emergency surgery on an eight-year-old trauma victim, twice in the span of five hours to save his life a hot date, then your idea of a good time and mine are two vastly different things.”
Shit, open mouth insert foot. When are you going to learn, Callie, to shut up. She pursed her lips. “It’s Friday night, I heard a woman’s voice in the background when you called me. I assumed . . .” She shrugged then took a gulp of her wine, thoroughly humiliated now.
“Mother of the eight-year-old. I’d just come out of surgery to speak with her when you called me. I rang you back as soon as I could.”
“Oh.” She took another sip of wine, and for the first time noticed the slight lines around Michael’s eyes and recognized them for what they were—exhaustion. She’d seen it on many of her colleagues in Afghanistan, but somehow never associated it with Amy and Will’s grandson. For the first time, she began to wonder if perhaps she’d misjudged him a little or maybe a lot. “Have you eaten?”
He laughed. “Breakfast. I was going to finish this wine then rummage around to see what I could find.”
“Soup and a sandwich do?” She turned to the fridge and reached for the container of soup she’d made earlier.
“Sounds great.”
After she fixed Michael two grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed up the soup, she picked up her glass and instead of sitting back down at the counter, leaned against the sink, drinking her wine while the now all too human Michael scarfed down his meal. The kitchen suddenly felt small and a tad bit warm.
Taking a break from his food inhalation, Michael glanced up at her as if puzzled by her sudden reticence. “My grandparents shared with me that you were wounded in Afghanistan. Are you fully recovered now?”
What could she say to that? No. That’s not something you recover from. You couldn’t possibly understand from your safe little world. “I’m fine,” she said perhaps a little too sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of nursing your grandparents if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Michael tilted his head toward his shoulder and gazed at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “Never thought you weren’t.” His palm came up in a halting motion. “Wasn’t trying to pry.”
She acknowledged his statement then finished the last of her wine and set the glass in the sink. “I’m going to check on Will and then turn in. You driving back to the city tonight?”
“God, no, I’m beat. Going to crash in the guestroom, that way I can look in on Gramps first thing in the morning before I head back to the hospital. I need to check on that young patient I told you about earlier.”
She bid him good-night and went upstairs to her room. The thought of Michael sleeping next door set her on edge, and she had trouble falling asleep. Michael Henderson, M.D., suddenly had become real to her on a deeply personal level. Eventually, she dozed off into a restless sleep until the horrific images of a bomb exploding and its aftermath startled her upright. Sobbing David’s name, she cried hysterically until strong male arms enveloped her and pressed her against a warm naked chest before rocking her slowly back and forth.
“Shh . . . you’re safe. You’re safe now.”
Lost in the security of the moment, Callie hung on with dear life and let the deep soothing voice calm her. As the panic subsided, she became aware of just whose arms were holding her and found it didn’t matter. It could have been the devil himself, and she would have welcomed him. She didn’t realize how badly she needed or missed being held, but in that moment, it felt desperately right, and she was loathe to let go.
Michael’s hands slowly rubbed up and down her spine in a calming motion, lulling her. “You all right now?” he whispered against her hair.
She sniffed and nodded against his chest. “Yeah, I’m better.” She reluctantly pulled back from the warmth that enveloped her, unable to make out his facial features in the dark. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
“Not a problem. I’m used to being woken up in the odd hours of the night. You want to talk about it?”
“No.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Do you have any pills to help you sleep?”
“Yes, but since I’ve been taking care of your grandparents, I don’t like to use them.”
“Well, you are not alone with them tonight. How about I get you a glass of water so you can take one, hm?”
“I don’t . . .”
“Shh. Humor me, then we’ll all get some sleep.” He got up and left her room.
Callie reached into the bedside table drawer and removed the bottle of sleeping pills she kept tucked there. Uncapping it, she took one out, then put the bottle back just as Michael returned with the water.
“Here you go, down the hatch.”
She bit back a laugh as she put the pill in her mouth and swallowed the cool liquid from the edge of the glass Michael pressed to her lips. She felt a bit like one of his pediatric patients.
“If you’re all right, I’m headed back to catch my much needed beauty rest. I’ll see you in the morning. If you have another nightmare, feel free to come in and wake me. I’ll be happy to share my bed.”
Callie couldn’t make out the expression on his face but cou
ld hear the humor lurking in his voice.
“Not likely.” She threw a small pillow at him as he moved toward the door.
“In all seriousness, don’t hesitate to wake me if you need me.”
She nodded, unable to speak as he turned and left her room. “Thank you,” she whispered to the now empty space. Callie slept-in the next morning and felt significantly better than she had in sometime. She found herself unreasonably disappointed to learn that Michael had gone back to the city. Amy informed her that Will’s fever had broken, and he seemed to be on the upswing, so Michael returned to the hospital to check on his patient. She felt strangely let down.
Will feeling better was good news and by Saturday night he wanted to resume telling his side of the couple’s story. Callie made them all hot cocoa, and they settled down in the den.
Will glanced over his glasses at Amy and then to her. “As you recall, Amy had agreed to dance with that foolish Wright boy, and I didn’t like it one bit, not one bit, and my buddy Travis knew it . . .”
Chapter 19
April 1948
From his seat at the bar, Will had a clear line of sight to the band, barring the annoying woman who was trying her damnedest to flirt with him. He’d been doing his level best to ignore her without being downright rude. He figured sooner or later she’d get the hint and move on to a more gullible victim. He’d already been engaged to a flashy woman like the one standing in front of him, and he no longer found himself attracted to the glitz.
Finally, he excused himself and limped to the men’s room in hopes she’d be gone when he returned. Thankfully when he did, both ladies had moved on to a couple of suckers further down the bar.
Travis grinned at him. “Took you long enough.”
“Thought they’d never leave.”
“Damn, either your eyesight is failing you, or you’ve injured a lot more than that leg of yours if you couldn’t appreciate what was being handed to you on a silver platter.”
“Not my type, but don’t let me hold you back.”
“Not even tempted, but unless I miss my guess your tastes runs to petite brunettes these days.”
“Not going there.”
Trav laughed. “Then you won’t mind that your little partner is now dancing with a tall good-looking blond who can’t keep his hands off her.”
He immediately glanced at the table where the girls had been sitting and noting their absence, scanned the dance floor. He didn’t like what he saw one bit. Some big galoot had his arms wrapped around Amy, and she seemed content to be there, which pissed him off royally.
Trav laughed and slapped him on the back. “My friend, you’re a goner.”
He shook his head at his buddy. “You’re nuts.”
“Nah, don’t think so. If you could have seen the expression on your face when I told you Amy was dancing with another man.” He chuckled. “It was priceless. I think I’d call it green with jealousy.”
He had a sinking feeling his pal was right, but he didn’t want to admit it even to himself. “Nah, I have no right to be.”
Trav paused then became serious. “You’ve every right to be once you get passed your pigheadedness and realize that not every woman is like Cindy. I think you do the little lady there a disservice in lumping her in the same category. I believe she’s made of sturdier stuff.”
“You’re right about one thing. There’s no comparison between the two.”
“Then, my friend, why are you still sitting here next to me and not cutting in on the bloke groping your little lady’s ass?”
“He’s what?” Will scanned the crowd on the floor and spied Amy attempting to fend off the roving hands of the pissant she was dancing with.
“I’d say she’s in dire need of being rescued, and that my friend, is your specialty.”
He rose from his stool then hesitated, not sure he wanted to make a fool of himself. He hadn’t danced since he lost his foot.
Trav eyed him with understanding. “I’ve never known you to be a coward. Any idiot can shuffle their feet back and forth to a slow song, even one with a gimp leg.”
Will would rather charge a machine gun nest than walk out onto the dance floor right now, but as he watched Amy once again struggle to fend off the hand shifting from her waist to her rear-end he quickly made up his mind. “Come on,” he said with grim determination. “I can rescue Amy, but I think her friend could do with a little help herself.”
“Excuse me.” Will tapped the blond dancing with Amy on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Can’t you wait?” The asshole had the gall to ask, before he glanced over his shoulder at Will’s glowering expression. “Be my guest.” He stopped dancing and turned Amy over to him. “I do believe I need another beer.”
And a good swift kick in the pants, Will thought but didn’t say.
Amy gazed up at him with surprise on her face.
Feeling a little clumsy, he prevaricated. “Would you prefer to sit down? This could be somewhat awkward.”
She shook her head, her eyes softly smiling up at him. “Thanks for the rescue, again. You’re a regular knight in shining armor.”
Even with the three-inch heels and standing on her tiptoes, Will had to bend a stretch for Amy to reach his shoulders. Neither spoke while they slowly shifted their feet. Will for one, was too caught up in the smell of Amy’s perfume and the feel of a soft woman in his arms to give thought to speech. He wanted to revel in holding and being held by a woman again.
She pressed close to him as if to absorb his warmth, and he wondered if she too craved the touch of another human being.
Although he thought he acquitted himself well, he felt relieved when the set ended and the band took a break. Holding Amy left him craving more than a mere dance, and he realized he best put some distance between them. Fall was a long time away, and he didn’t want to jeopardize his situation by doing anything stupid.
“Why don’t you guys join us at the table?” Fran asked.
Before Will could say no, Travis responded, “Don’t mind if we do. It might keep the wolves away from you pretty ladies or at least the Wright brothers.”
Will let Travis and the girls do most of the talking while he sipped his beer, never one for small talk, he was content to mostly listen. Fran dragged Travis back to the dance floor when the band returned to playing swing songs. They weren’t bad together. Amy’s friend had a natural rhythm that he could tell his buddy struggled to keep up with.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” Amy said. “You should see her with the right partner. Four years ago, before my brother Red was killed, he brought Jack, a Navy pilot, home with him. When he and Amy danced the jitterbug, the whole floor cleared to make room for them.” Amy paused as if the memory struck a painful chord. Then her eyes dimmed. “He died in the war too.”
Ah, that was the ball and chain she toted around with her, not just the divorce. Obviously, she missed her brother. He wondered if she mourned the pilot too. He hoped not. The damn war had a lot to account for.
When Fran and Travis returned to the table, Amy suggested they call it a night. Since she was the only one who had to get up in the morning, they all agreed it was her call. Working out who was riding with whom became the more taxing issue.
“You ladies okay to drive?” Travis courteously asked.
“Yeah,” Amy responded. “Only had two drinks, I’m fine.”
“Better not chance it,” Will spoke up. “I’ll drive you back to the farm.”
“No bother. I’m staying at my mom’s tonight and Fran lives down the street.”
“Still, I’d feel better if you let me take you,” he persisted.
“No, problem,” Trav chimed in. He glanced at Fran and then toward Will and Amy. “Why don’t I give Fran a lift back to her house, and I’l
l drive over and pick Will up afterwards. No need for everyone to squeeze into the cab of the truck.” He stood and pulled out Fran’s chair, and before Amy or Will could voice an opinion, they were headed for the door.
“What’s that all about?” Amy questioned once they were settled in the truck and had backed out of the parking lot. “You think Travis has a thing for Fran?”
He didn’t think that the case. He was pretty sure it was a ploy to give him time alone with Amy, not that he’d tell her so.
Within ten minutes, he pulled into her mother’s driveway and opened the passenger-side door. She thanked him and stood silently waiting, giving him no choice but to escort her to the dimly lit side door.
“I had a nice time tonight, Will.” Her appealing chocolate eyes searched his.
He knew what she wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to go down that road, not yet, maybe not ever. He had too much baggage that needed to be resolved.
“Good night,” he said gruffly and turned to leave.
“Will.” She placed a hand on his arm, tugged him forward, and on tiptoe sweetly kissed his cheek. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at the farm tomorrow.”
He limped to the end of the driveway and stood with his hands in his pockets, refusing to glance back until he heard the side door close. Then he let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding.
When his buddy’s green Chevy pulled up at the end of the driveway, he climbed into the truck, a scowl on his face.
When The Geese Fly North Page 9