by Cindy Kirk
“But that’s what I’d be doing,” Finley protested. “Dad and I, we take care of each other. When I had chicken pox, he missed a big test at school. How can I leave him now?”
“Well...” Addie didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Think of it this way. It won’t be long until you’re away at college. What if he marries Michelle and you find out she won’t take care of him when he’s sick? What are you going to do then?”
“She’s a doctor,” Finley reminded her friend. “Of course she’d take care of him.”
“She takes care of ladies who are having babies,” Addie pointed out. “That doesn’t mean she’ll take care of your dad.”
“You’re right,” Finley reluctantly conceded.
“It’s up to you,” Addie said, her voice softening. “But doing this is necessary.”
Finley knew Addie believed what she was saying made sense. But to leave her dad here alone... What if Michelle didn’t come through? Her heart clenched. “I don’t think she even knows that he’s sick.”
“Then make sure and mention that fact to her before you leave,” Addie said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Finley told herself she had to do this, that she really didn’t have a choice. “Okay, but you have to promise you’ll bring me home when I ask. I don’t want to leave him alone too long.”
“We’ll be there in a half hour to pick you up.”
Finley clicked off the phone, shaking off her unease. This wouldn’t be the last time her father got sick. She had to be certain that before she left for college he had someone who cared enough to be there for him through the good times...and the bad.
* * *
Michelle found it odd when Finley stopped over to inform her that not only was her dad ill, but that she was going to Addie Delacourt’s house for a party.
Yesterday, when Kate Dennes had come in for a follow-up check, she’d told Michelle there’d been some kind of respiratory flu going around the job site and was worried about Joel bringing it home. She’d also mentioned Gabe had called in sick that morning.
But if he was sick enough to stay home yesterday, what was Finley doing leaving him? Unless...having Finley mention she was leaving was Gabe’s way of telling her the coast was clear and Michelle should come over.
Her lips curved up in a smile. Yes, that had to be it. After putting on some lip gloss and running a brush through her hair, she headed next door. She knocked several times, but when Gabe didn’t come to the door, she tried the knob. Unlocked.
Pushing the door open, she called out, “It’s Michelle. Is it okay if I come in?”
“Yes.” The single word was followed by a coughing fit.
Michelle stepped into the living room. She didn’t see Gabe at first. Finally she spotted a tuft of dark hair over the top of the sofa.
When she got to his side, she gasped. Like a train wreck, Michelle couldn’t look away.
Dark circles underpinned Gabe’s eyes and the skin under his cheek stubble had a ghostly sheen. His hair stuck up at odd angles. A tissue box and a glass of water sat on the coffee table in front of him.
His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. “I don’t feel much like doing anything.”
“Well, of course you don’t.” She made a sympathetic sound. “I’m sure sitting on the sofa is about as much as you can manage.”
“No,” he choked out. “I mean like at the cabin...”
Whatever else he’d been about to say was cut off by a fit of coughing. She finally realized what he was trying to tell her. Despite her worry, the thought pulled a smile from her.
“I’m not here for sex, mister.” Michelle dropped down in the chair next to the sofa, the original reason for her visit forgotten. “I came to see how you’re feeling.”
“I’ve been better.” Gabe reached for a glass of water, nearly knocking it over.
“Let me help you with that.” Taking the glass Michelle crouched down by the sofa and lifted the crystal tumbler to his lips. “Small sips,” she said when he drank greedily. She resisted the urge to push the straggling hair back from his face. “When did you last have some Tylenol?”
“I don’t know.” He lifted a hand to rub his forehead. “Finley has been keeping track.”
Finley. The daughter who’d deserted him to go to a party with her friends. Michelle kept her mouth shut and mentally counted to ten. When she finally spoke, her tone was calm and matter-of-fact, not condemning. “Did she write it down?”
“I think so. I’m not sure.” He shook his head as if hoping to clear it.
Michelle pulled her brows together. “Where do you keep the Tylenol?”
“In the kitchen. The cabinet by the sink.”
“Let me see if there’s any kind of record in there.” Michelle patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
She found a list by the sink, along with bottles of both Tylenol and ibuprofen and a thermometer. It wasn’t time yet for another dose of ibuprofen, but he could certainly handle some more Tylenol after she checked his temperature. She picked up the old-fashioned thermometer and carried it with her into the living room.
“Did you find it?” He didn’t bother lifting his head from the pillow.
“Right where you said it would be.” She hid her concern behind a reassuring smile. “First, let’s take your temperature.”
Obligingly, he opened his mouth.
One hundred one. After giving him the Tylenol, Michelle gave in to impulse and gently pushed that stubborn strand of hair back from his forehead. “How long has it been since you showered?”
Gabe lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug.
“I bet you’d feel better if you did.”
“Okay.” But when he pushed to his feet he swayed.
“Whoa there, pardner.” Michelle wrapped an arm around his waist and steadied him. “Don’t go falling on me.”
His lips tipped up in the slightest of smiles. “I got up too fast. I’m fine now.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just walk with you for a little bit. Just to make sure.”
They made their way haltingly across the hardwood floor to the doorway to the bathroom. Michelle didn’t leave his side until she’d made sure everything he needed was in easy reach. “Leave the door cracked. I want to be able to hear if you need anything.”
The first real smile she’d seen since she walked through the door lifted his lips. “You’re bossy.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek. “I like it.”
Michelle gazed into those beautiful amber eyes now dulled with illness. Even at his worst, the guy had a killer smile.
“I’ll get some food ready for you.”
“Would it matter if I told you I’m not hungry?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Not at all.”
Their gazes met. Suddenly it was as if they were the only two people in the world. He breathed. She breathed. Her heart slipped into an irregular rhythm.
The corner of his mouth twitched, breaking the spell. “Yep, definitely bossy.”
“That’s already been established. Now get in the shower.”
Michelle waited near the door until she heard the water turn on. What was Finley thinking, leaving him like this? She pressed her lips together and returned to the kitchen.
The cupboards were surprisingly well-stocked. Because it had been a while since Gabe had eaten, Michelle decided on chicken noodle soup. After thawing several chicken breasts in the microwave, she cut them up, then added them, along with carrots and celery, to chicken broth. When that was done she added the egg noodles to the stock. The soup wasn’t quite homemade but it would have to do.
“Smells good.” Gabe stood in the doorway, wearing sweatpants and a faded blue T-shirt. His feet were bare and his hair damp.
“Chicken noodle soup.” Michelle smiled. “And it’s ready to eat.”
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” He shi
fted from one foot to the other. “But thank you.”
The look of gratitude in his eyes brought a lump to her throat. “Take a seat and I’ll dish you up some.”
“You’ll eat with me.” It was a statement more than a question.
“If you’d like,” she said, feeling suddenly shy.
“I definitely like.”
He was feeling better. Michelle could tell by simply looking at him. His cheeks were no longer flushed, telling her the Tylenol had done its job. And there was a gleam in his eyes when he looked at a formfitting T that hadn’t been there before the shower.
Simply having him look at her that way made her heart skip a beat. How many days had it been since they’d made love? Too many, her body said.
Not that she was entertaining the thought right now, but soon he would be well and then...
“You look a bit flushed.” His eyes narrowed with concern. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”
She ladled some soup into a bowl and set it before him, then repeated the process for herself. “I feel great. It’s probably from slaving over a hot stove.”
Gabe settled back into his chair, his blue T-shirt a perfect foil for his dark hair. Hair which was still damp from the shower and artfully disheveled, as if he’d just raked his hand through it.
Something stirred low in her abdomen. He’s sick, she reminded herself sternly.
Even though she knew he had to be hungry, he didn’t pick up his spoon. “Something wrong?”
He smiled. “I’m waiting for you.”
Michelle picked up her spoon. “Oh, I get it. You’re worried I might have put something in it, so you want me to go first.”
“Just being a gentleman, sweetheart,” he drawled. “If you’d wanted to do me in all you’d have to have done is ignore me. I was feeling not so good when you arrived, in case you didn’t notice.”
A rush of warmth washed over Michelle. She liked it that he’d called her sweetheart. Liked it a bit too much in fact. She considered telling him that it wasn’t appropriate, but figured they were alone in the house. If he wanted to call her sweetheart, she’d let him. Just this time.
Michelle dipped her spoon into the soup and tasted it. Her lips curved upward.
Following her lead, Gabe did the same. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, an odd look on his face.
“How is it?” Michelle almost hated to ask.
“It’s...” Gabe opened his eyes. “Delicious. Heavenly.”
Michelle took a little more. It was pretty good.
They talked as they ate. She told him about the set of twins who’d weighed eight pounds each that she’d delivered yesterday. He told her about the new stable they’d started building for Tripp’s dad.
Gabe glossed over his illness. When Michelle mentioned being surprised that Finley would leave him when he didn’t feel well, he rose to his daughter’s defense.
In that moment he reminded her of Ed when she’d say something about Chrissy. Nothing was ever his daughter’s fault. There was always some excuse for her bad behavior.
A tightness gripped Michelle’s chest. Her appetite vanished. She began to rise, but Gabe reached out and pulled her back down.
“Tell me what’s going on with Tripp.”
Michelle paused and dropped back into her seat, surprised both by the abrupt change in subject and the question. “What do you mean?”
“At times I’m convinced he wants you,” Gabe said in a casual tone that Michelle guessed was anything but casual. “Other times I’m not so sure.”
“It’s not me, it’s Adrianna,” Michelle said honestly. “For some reason, he’s hesitant about pursuing her. As much as I know she likes him, there’s something holding her back, too.”
“That’s what I thought.” Gabe relaxed against the back of his chair.
“What made you think of him?”
“I wasn’t thinking of him.” Gabe lifted the glass of water from the coffee table. This time, his hand was steady. “I was thinking of you. If there was something between you and him, I needed to know.”
“If something was going on with me and another guy, I’d tell you.” Michelle paused. “Just like if you started up something with another woman, I trust that you’d tell me.”
“Absolutely.”
Michelle felt disturbed by his response. Not that she wanted him to say there was no other woman he wanted—that would have sent her running for the hills, er, the mountains—but couldn’t he have said something about how good it was between them?
The second the thought entered her mind, she realized how foolish she was being. She couldn’t have it both ways. She’d made it perfectly clear she only wanted his friendship and wasn’t looking for anything more.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway brought Michelle to her feet. Seconds later the front door swung open. “Dad, I’m home.”
“We’re in the kitchen, Finley,” Gabe called out.
Michelle barely had time to gather up the dishes when Finley appeared in the doorway. The teen rushed to her dad’s side, then crouched down beside him.
“How are you doing?” Finley’s anxious gaze scanned his face. Almost immediately the two lines between her brows relaxed. “You look...better.”
“I think I’m going to live,” he admitted. “Michelle made chicken noodle soup.”
“I left the party early specifically so I could make you dinner.” Finley appeared put out by the fact that her father had eaten.
Just like Chrissy, Michelle thought.
“There’s some soup left over.” Michelle forced a smile to her lips. “It’s still warm. I could get you—”
“I can get it myself.” Finley straightened. “This is my house. I think I know my way around it better than you.”
“Finley.” Gabe’s dark eyes flashed. “That was rude.”
The skin on the teen’s cheeks darkened to a rosy hue. “I’m sorry,” she said sounding surprisingly contrite. “That didn’t come out right.”
“No worries.” Michelle waved a dismissive hand. “No offense taken.”
But Michelle headed home almost immediately, ignoring Gabe’s protests, telling him she had paperwork waiting for her at home. There had been a promise in Gabe’s eyes when he’d said goodbye at the door, a promise that disturbed more than comforted her.
Finley’s behavior tonight had served as a timely reminder of the dangers of getting too close to Gabe. It was a warning she was determined to heed.
Chapter Fourteen
“She left him there, Adrianna.” Thought it had been almost a week and Gabe had fully recovered, Michelle’s blood began to boil simply thinking of that evening. “She went to a party rather than take care of him.”
Adrianna took a tiny bite of her salad. “That upsets you.”
“Darn right it does.” Michelle lowered her voice when the people at the next table turned to stare. Hill of Beans was crowded and, for all its sophistication, Jackson was still a small town. “Gabe needed Tylenol. He needed food. Finley waltzed out the door as if she didn’t care. Totally irresponsible.”
“I thought you said she came back specifically to make him dinner.”
Michelle cursed the need that had made her give Adrianna all of the details instead of just the relevant ones. “At seven o’clock.”
“Lots of people don’t eat until seven. Besides, she’s thirteen.” For some reason the midwife seemed determined to take the girl’s side. “It’s easy to make bad choices when you’re young.”
“Really?” Michelle couldn’t hide her irritation. “To me, this is an issue of character, not of age.”
Adrianna put down her fork. Her lips pressed together and she appeared to be forcibly restraining herself.
“I’d say you appear to be letting your past experience with Ed’s daughters color your views of Finley.” Adrianna’s green eyes flashed. “From what I’ve seen, she’s a nice, caring child. A child, Michelle, not an adult.”
“She left her sick dad all alone to go to a party. What kind of person does something like that?”
Adrianna leaned forward, her gaze pinning Michelle to her chair. “Sounds like you never made any mistakes when you were young. Bully for you. But you know as well as I do that it’s rare for a person to get through those growing-up years without regrets. Character is developed by how a person deals with adversity, especially adversity brought on by their own bad decisions.”
Michelle couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Adrianna so passionate about a topic. She hadn’t realized her friend was so fond of Finley. “I’ll grant—”
Without her usual fluid grace, Adrianna abruptly stood. “I’m sorry. I just remembered I have a couple of errands to run before my afternoon appointments.”
The salad in front of her friend had barely been touched. “Can’t it wait until you finish your lunch?”
“No.” Adrianna flashed a tight smile. “It can’t.”
As she watched her friend stride out the door, Michelle had the feeling she’d said something terribly wrong. Worse yet, she sensed what she’d said had hurt Adrianna. But what—
“Couldn’t decide what you wanted for lunch?”
Her head jerked up. Tripp stood beside the table, a tray in his hands and a grin on his lips.
“What are you talking about?” she managed to spit out.
“Sandwich.” Tripp pointed to the ham-and-Swiss in front of her, then gestured to the salad. “Salad.”
“Oh, that’s Adrianna’s.”
Something she couldn’t identify flickered in his eyes. He glanced around. “Where is she?”
“She left.” Michelle tried to summon a smile but failed. “She had some errands to run.”
“Was that before or after she saw me come in?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Tripp gestured with his head to the empty chairs at the table. “Do you mind if we join you?”
“We?”
“Gabe and me.” Tripp turned and that’s when Michelle saw him, holding his own tray of food, weaving his way through the tables.
Even dressed casually in jeans and the standard Stone Craft Builders polo, Gabe cut a fine figure. Several women turned for a second look as he walked past their table.