Harlequin Heartwarming April 2018 Box Set

by Amy Vastine

  Lillie hoped he hadn’t noticed that even that minuscule action made her wince.

  “The twins said to tell you hello,” she said as he buckled up.

  “Yeah? Cool. How are they doing?”

  “They’re terrific. So smart. And sweet. And inquisitive…”

  “Oh?”

  “They came right out and asked if I was an addict.”

  Jase inhaled. “Way to put you on the spot, huh?”

  “I didn’t see much point in dodging the question. So now they know. And the conversation gave me the perfect opportunity to make them swear they’d never do drugs.”

  “Still, had to be tough.”

  “Funny thing is, the more times I tell the story, the easier it gets.”

  He nodded at the package on her lap. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, just a little something the girls and Molly and I made yesterday. I thought you might like it for your back porch.”

  Jase laughed. “What back porch? It’s stairs leading to a five-by-five platform. Barely enough room to turn around, especially when the screen door is open.”

  “It was plenty big enough for a few things.”

  He licked his lips, and she could tell he was remembering how, at the conclusion of one of their first rehearsals in his living room, he’d kissed her good-night on that very porch. She wondered if the elderly woman across the way still lived there. She’d banged a ladle on a soup pot, yelling, “Take that craziness back inside, fools! Nobody wants to see the pair of you lockin’ lips!”

  “Yeah, every now and then when I toss a bag of trash into the garbage can, I can still hear Mrs. Aikens, calling us fools.”

  It was a good memory. Bittersweet, too, since it reminded her yet again of all they’d had—and lost—because of her habit.

  During the remainder of the short drive to his row house, Jase talked about the party. He complimented the tasteful decorations, the food, the catering crew, even the music, provided by a DJ.

  “Your mom surprised me,” Lillie admitted.

  “Not nearly as much as you surprised her.”

  “I should have apologized a long time ago.”

  “Still, it couldn’t have been easy. You earned some serious brownie points.”

  “Good. I’ve always hated the way we left things.”

  “I have soda, iced tea and bottled water,” he said, leading her into the tiny galley kitchen.

  “Water sounds great.” Lillie unwrapped the wind chimes and held them up for him to see. “The girls started saving keys before I signed myself into Rising Sun. Yesterday, we finally put them to good use.”

  He thumped the closest key, and like a tiny pendulum, it careened into the one beside it, setting off a cacophony of tinny notes.

  “Not exactly melodic,” Lillie said.

  “I’ll focus on who made it for me, and it’ll sound like a symphony.”

  She smiled and told her water bottle, “The man’s a poet.”

  Jase pulled out a stool and gave its seat a pat. “Take a load off,” he said. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about that required total privacy.”

  “I could have put that better. It’s true, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but the reality of it is, I’ve made my decision.”

  “Jeez, Lill. I don’t know if I want to hear this…”

  The last time she’d seen that expression on his face had been the night she gave back his ring. She spoke quickly to relieve his anxiety.

  “I’m having surgery next week.”

  He exhaled audibly. “Good. Great. I’m glad. It’s about time.”

  “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “I dunno, could have been any one of a dozen things.”

  “Well, that’s it. They’ll scrape away any scar tissue, maybe insert a pin into the bone and stitch me up. They’ll try to convince me that I need pain meds afterward. I just want you to know, I’m not going to do it. No matter how bad it gets. Just a word of warning, in case you decide to visit while I’m recovering.”

  “In case? Of course I’ll visit. But Lill…that’s not smart, is it? From what I hear, pain can cause all sorts of damage. It makes you tense up and clench your muscles. Won’t that put stress on the bone? Plus, it keeps you awake when you need sleep the most. Messes with your mind. Affects your ability to do physical therapy.”

  “I know, I know. The doctor already gave me that lecture. So it’ll take a little longer to recover. I’m resigned to that fact. It beats the alternative.”

  He inspected the water bottle’s label, turning it right and left before meeting her eyes. “You’re that worried you’ll get hooked again?”

  “No. But why take chances?”

  “Now I see what you meant when you said you’d been thinking.”

  Lillie played with the bottle cap.

  He hadn’t recited any of the usual things: If you need me, I’ll be here. Let me know how I can help. I’m pullin’ for you. It hurt a little, knowing he didn’t trust her to make it through the surgery and rehab without drugs. Still, Lillie felt certain that this was the right decision. If she could make it through this without pills, she could make it through anything.

  She hopped down from the stool, picked up the wind chimes and flung open his back door.

  “Going to hang that up?”

  “Yep, scoping out the perfect spot.”

  “Ah,” he said, following her.

  “Think Mrs. Aikens will get out her ladle when she hears it?”

  Jase’s forefinger traced the contours of her cheek. “I have a drawer full of old keys. If she does, you and I will make another one, just for her. What’s that old saying?” He struck a pose, like a stage actor. “‘Musick has charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.’”

  “Wow. I’m impressed.”

  “What, that I can quote William Congreve’s The Mourning Bride?”

  “You’re full of surprises, Jase Yeager. Now let’s figure out how to get this symphony hung.”

  If things worked out between them, life would be a lot of things…

  …but boring wouldn’t be one of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LILLIE DIDN’T LOOK anywhere as banged up as she had after the accident. Then, she’d been bandaged head to toe, with multiple splints and slings, monitors and tubes. Now, although it was worrisome that she hadn’t regained consciousness yet, she looked peaceful.

  He’d sent her parents to the cafeteria, promising to text them if she woke up. Grabbing one of the magazines her mom had placed on the rolling tray table, Jase settled into the gray chair beside her bed and did what he could to get comfortable. Might be easier, he thought, if Amelia had brought a newspaper or a crossword puzzle book. Anything but a stack of how-to-crochet books.

  He held out a forefinger, trying to duplicate the article’s instructions. “‘Make a slip knot on the shaft of one needle,’” he said, reading aloud. “‘Place this needle in your left hand and move left fingers over to brace right needle. With right index finger, pick up the yarn and—’”

  “Are you trying to keep me asleep indefinitely?”

  The magazine hit the tray with a splat.

  “Lill… Lill. You’re awake!”

  “No thanks to you.”

  Her voice, groggy and gruff, was music to his ears.

  “What’s that you were reading?”

  “Your mom’s crochet book. Darned if I know how she can figure out how to make sweaters, reading instructions like that.”

  Laughing, Lillie pointed to the water cup on her nightstand, and as he held the straw to her lips, Jase said, “Don’t mind saying, you had us all worried there for a while.”

  “Worried? Why?”

  “You didn’t come around as quickly as t
he doc thought you should.”

  “He would’ve stayed asleep, too,” she said, nodding at the magazine, “exposed to a recitation from that.”

  “Well, it’s good to know you’re all right.” He patted her hand. “Are you in much pain?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  It was likely the anesthesia hadn’t completely worn off yet. Would she answer the same way when it did?

  “I promised to text your folks when you came to.”

  “Where are they, anyway?”

  “Cafeteria. They’ve been here from the get-go, and by the time I got here, they looked a little rough around the edges. I sent them, along with the Sams, the twins and Molly and Matt, down to grab a sandwich.”

  He pulled out his phone, scrolled through the numbers in his contacts list.

  “Don’t. Not yet. Please?”

  “They’re worried about you, Lill.”

  “I know. I just need another minute or two to get my head straight. So that when they get back, they’ll see there really isn’t anything to worry about.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I must look terrible.”

  “I can’t remember when I’ve seen a more beautiful sight…” The words were out before he had a chance to think about what they’d mean to her. Jase blamed it on relief, because it had been pure hell, repeating the doctor’s words in his head: “It doesn’t happen often, but once in a while, a more sensitive patient never comes to. And it’s possible that instead of repairing the bone, we’ll make it worse.”

  Her family had drawn together, but Jase was alone. Uninvited. And while they’d all been cordial enough during the surgery, the awkward silences and quick glances were evidence of their uncertainty: How did he fit into the picture now?

  He dug around in the duffle bag perched on the wide windowsill and came up with a hairbrush; then he hit the up arrow on the bed’s controls and slowly brought her to a more upright position. One knee beside her, he did his best to tidy her hair. When he finished, it didn’t look much different than before.

  “There,” he said, “you’re a cover model.”

  She laughed and squeezed his hand. “All right. Shoot them a text. And when you’re finished, maybe you can poke your head into the hall, see if there’s a nurse out there who can help me get to the bathroom.”

  The black-on-white name tag read Tina St. Claire. “You’ll have to wait outside for a few minutes,” she said, pulling the curtain around the bed.

  “Oh, no,” he heard Lillie groan. “Not a bedpan!”

  “Just this once,” Tina said. “The doctor will want you on your feet ASAP. Next time, we’ll let you use the en suite.”

  Jase stopped pacing when the elevator doors opened. “Give her a minute. She’s with the nurse,” he said, barring the door.

  Amelia hugged him. “Thanks for staying with her, Jase.” Holding him at arm’s length, she said, “How did she react, seeing you first thing when she opened her eyes?”

  He didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t noticed at first because he’d been trying to figure out the crochet stitch, but when he told them, everyone, the twins included, laughed.

  “Oh, to have been a bug on the wall,” Lillie’s brother-in-law said.

  “No kiddin’,” her brother agreed.

  “Wonder what your TV ladies would think if they heard that.”

  “Are you kidding?” Liam said. “They’d swoon, picturing this big handsome hunk, doing dainty things with those big ham hocks of his!”

  A second round of laughter preceded Tina’s exit from the room. “Try to keep it down a little, folks,” she said, winking. “She’s awake but still groggy from the anesthesia.”

  Amelia and Liam flanked Lillie, and the rest of the family surrounded the bed. Jase could have shouldered his way in, but he thought it best to let her family stand close. Later, after visiting hours, he’d sneak back and have her all to himself.

  “Let me get out of your hair,” he said from the doorway. “I’ll catch y’all later.”

  “No… Jase, wait…”

  Lillie reached for his hand, and Liam stepped aside to make room for him.

  “Thanks for being here. Will you come back tomorrow?”

  He couldn’t very well admit his intentions of returning when the rest of them had gone, now could he? “Have to catch an early flight to Florida in the morning,” he admitted. “But I’ll call every chance I get.”

  “Promise?”

  “You bet.”

  Jase ducked out of the room, pretending he hadn’t noticed the warm smiles beaming from every family member’s face. It buoyed him, knowing that if he and Lillie managed to work things out, her family would be all for it.

  When he climbed out of the truck, quiet tinkling greeted him. Pink, blue and green keys. Red and yellow keys. He got the distinct impression someone was watching. Mrs. Aikens, if he had to guess. And Jase resisted the urge to peek over his shoulder. Why spoil his good mood by looking into the face of disapproval?

  “I like it,” the older woman yelled across the way. “I wouldn’t complain if you made one for me.”

  “It was a gift,” he called, turning after all, “but I’ll see if I can scrounge up some materials and reproduce it for you.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  She swatted at a fly, then disappeared into her kitchen.

  “Don’t make mine all them rainbow colors,” she hollered through the screen.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Lavender.”

  With that, she slammed the interior door, startling the robin that had perched on his porch rail.

  He’d already booked his flight and hotel room. If he skipped supper, he could pack and load the truck, which would save time in the morning rush, leaving a couple of hours to spend with Lillie before a nurse booted him out. She’d get a kick out of hearing that Mrs. Aikens had requested a lavender wind chime.

  Jase had just zipped up his duffle when his cell phone rang.

  “Got a huge favor to ask you,” Drew said. “We had a…an incident, and we’re stuck on I-95. Can you come pick us up?”

  “That’s one heckuva long stretch of road. Can you be a little more specific?”

  “Were just past the ramp to Caton Avenue.”

  “Exit 50. I know right where you are.” It shouldn’t take long to reach them. There would still be plenty of time to pay Lillie a quick visit before hitting the hay.

  “Looks like rain, so don’t piddle around, okay?”

  “Give me five to ten minutes,” Jase said, laughing. “And you’re very welcome.”

  It surprised him to find his brother and sister-in-law sitting on the tailgate of their SUV, covered in something that looked like tar. He pulled up behind them, and the instant he set foot on the pavement, realized the black stuff wasn’t tar. “Holy smokes, dude. What did you hit? A septic tank truck?”

  Drew snorted. “Close. We were behind some sort of garbage truck, and believe it or not…” He pointed at a gigantic metal barrel on the side of the road. “That thing rolled off the truck bed and bounced around a couple of times. I swerved to miss it but failed. Stupid thing scraped up the whole undercarriage. Tore holes right through to the floorboards.”

  “And splattered God-knows-what all over us in the process,” Dora whimpered.

  Jase held his nose. “Holy smokes,” he said again, “what a stench. So where’s the garbage truck?”

  “He never even slowed down!” Dora said, pointing north. “I snapped a picture of the license plate, for all the good it’ll do.”

  Jase met his brother’s eyes. “Have you called for a tow truck?”

  “Should be here any minute.”

  Jase walked around the car, then rejoined Drew and Dora, shaking hi
s head. “Chances are good your insurance company will stamp this baby totaled.”

  Dora made a feeble attempt at wiping sludge from Drew’s cheek, but only made a bigger mess. “It’ll be okay,” she said, pocketing the shredded tissue. “I’ll borrow my mom’s car until the insurance company comes through.”

  The tow truck pulled up in front of their car. Thumbing the baseball cap to the back of his head, the driver said, “Name’s Jim. Dispatch said you hit a barrel?”

  Drew pointed into the roadside ditch.

  “Oy-polloy! What’s in it? Rotten eggs? A skunk? A skunk that ate rotten eggs?”

  There wasn’t a trace of humor in Drew’s voice when he said, “Let me guess, you work at the Comedy Club on weekends.”

  “No disrespect intended, sir, but there’s nothin’ funny about that smell.” He looked at Jase. “You’re driving them home?”

  “’Fraid so,” he said, grinning.

  “Better you than me,” the man said, handing Drew a clipboard. “Fill that out and sign it while I hook ’er up.”

  Once finished, he took one look at the smudged clipboard and tugged on a pair of work gloves. “If you’re picking up your car anytime soon, tell the lady at the desk that your vehicle will be out back.” He hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. “Way out back.”

  Jase, Drew and Dora watched him drive away, then climbed into the pickup. Even before starting the motor, Jase realized that the stench clinging to their shoes and clothes and hair would permeate his upholstery.

  “If this ain’t love,” he joked, throwing the truck into gear, “I don’t know what is.”

  So much for visiting Lillie tonight. He dialed her number, and when she said a groggy hello, relief pulsed through him.

  “How’s it going?”

  “If you’re asking if the stuff they gave me in the OR has worn off, yes, it has.”

  “So you’re hurting pretty bad, huh?”

  “It’s no picnic, but it’s not anywhere near as bad as it was after the accident. Besides, they’ve got me on something called an ice therapy machine. It’s supposed to reduce swelling and prevent muscle spasms.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Seems to be. But I’m freezing!”