Love - From His Point Of View!: Meeting at Midnight

“Look at this. There, see?” He pointed at my shoulder, not quite touching it. I couldn’t see a thing. His hands were in the way. “That’s newly formed flesh. And this section is scabbed over. That’s not right. It’s…” He looked at me accusingly. “Mr. McClain. This is an old injury, isn’t it? Several days old, at least.”

Idiot. I stared at him stonily over the top of the oxygen mask.

He sighed and pulled the mask down. “Did you injure your shoulder a few days ago?”

“No. I think a tree limb punched through the window and pierced it when my truck rolled. I—”

“Impossible.”

Obviously not, since it had happened. But arguing with idiots is a waste of breath, and I didn’t have breath to spare. “I need to call my brother—Officer Duncan McClain.”

“You did not lose any substantial amount of blood from this wound tonight.”

I gave up and turned my head. “Pete, I need to call Duncan.”

Pete looked at me helplessly. “I imagine someone has already called him. He’ll be here soon.”

“No!” I’d had enough of lying flat while everyone ignored me. I struggled up onto one elbow. Things spun for a second and my forehead turned clammy, but I made it.

“Lie down, Mr. McClain.”

“Why? You decided maybe I am hurt, after all? Pete, I need to call Duncan myself. Don’t want him worried. I—”

“This man creating a disturbance?” said a voice from the doorway.

“I tried to stop him, Doctor,” said a harried female. “He wouldn’t listen.”

Relief hit like a slap in the face, puncturing my anger. My strength drained right out with it, so I let the nurse ease me back down. “I’m okay, Duncan.”

“Yeah?” The man who cut through the medical crowd to stand by my bed was shorter and lighter than I am. Better looking, too, with smoother features and eyes as pale as mine are dark. We have the same hair, though. Dark brown and board straight.

Duncan had on his blank face, the one that makes him a good cop and annoys the hell out of me. Never have been able to read the boy when he doesn’t want to be read. He put a hand on my good shoulder and squeezed lightly. “I can see that you are.”

“I am,” I insisted. But I was sure tired, and the pain wasn’t coming in waves anymore. It was this huge, steady presence, almost solid. I felt as if I’d bounced myself off that solid mass of pain a few times too many and rattled my brains. “Truck’s a mess, though.”

One side of Duncan’s mouth quirked up. “You’ve looked better yourself.”

“Yeah, well…I tried to call you, but this stupid—”

“Now, now,” he said.

“Belligerence is not uncommon with those in shock,” the doctor said, all pompous and tolerant. “I’m afraid your brother’s attitude is impeding his treatment, however. Normally I would not allow a family member to be present at this point, but if you can persuade him to cooperate, Officer, you may remain.”

As if he could stop Duncan. I snorted.

“Belligerent, is he?” For some reason that made Duncan smile. He squeezed my good shoulder again. Anxiety nestled in the corners of his eyes, keeping the smile out, but I could read him now.

I relaxed. If Duncan didn’t need his blank face, he wasn’t too upset.

“You heard the man, Ben. Play nice.”

“Man’s an idiot,” I muttered, but someone had tied weights on my eyelids. They were closing in spite of me. It was all right, though. Duncan would keep an eye on the idiot. He’d take care of things. “You’ll tell Zach…make it so he doesn’t worry.”

“I will.”

Good. That was good. The darkness beckoned, no longer threatening. “And the angel,” I murmured as I let myself go. “You’ll find her for me.”

Doctors and nurses are not reasonable people.

No question about who was in charge, and it wasn’t me. Admittedly, I wasn’t in any shape to go home right away. After they’d finished poking and stitching and X-raying me, pumping me full of antibiotics and O-negative, they finally strapped me into a fancy sling and put me in a room where I could get some sleep. Then, of course, they kept waking me up.

In spite of this, I felt a lot better by late afternoon. But no one was interested in my opinion of my condition. Mostly they seemed irritated that it wasn’t worse. At least that prissy E.R. doctor was out of the picture now.

I’d finally remembered where I knew him from. Twentysome years ago, Harold Meckle, M.D., had been a couple of grades behind me in school. Harry had been a certified brain back then, so he was probably a competent doctor now. But it would take a personality transplant to turn him into a competent human being.

Harry had a real bee in his bonnet about my shoulder. At one point he’d actually wanted to do surgery in order to find out why I didn’t need surgery. He was convinced I had to have some internal injury that was bleeding like a mother to account for all the blood I’d lost.

Fortunately, my own doctor had arrived by then. Dr. Miller didn’t see any point in cutting me open to satisfy Harry’s curiosity. Or, as he put it, he preferred a conservative approach, which meant keeping me under observation. Which meant keeping me in the hospital.

I’m a reasonable man. I could see that they needed to hold on to me awhile. I had a concussion, among other things. That’s why they’d woken me up every blasted hour on the hour, until I finally stayed awake in self-defense.

I knew all that. I just didn’t like it.

Shortly before supper a skinny little blonde showed up carrying a plastic sack from a department store. Her pink sweater was big enough for two of her, hiding what I knew to be a curvy bottom. She’d cut her hair again, I noticed. For some reason she liked it short. Long or short, I enjoyed looking at her hair. It was a pale, shiny blond, like sunshine on freshly cut pine.

Her name was Gwen. She was my son’s mother and—as of three months ago—my brother’s wife.

“I’ve got a book on Samuel Adams I hope you haven’t read,” she said, bustling up to my bed, where she deposited a peck on my cheek and the sack on my bed. “Also two magazines, a crossword puzzle book and some pajamas so you don’t have to wear that hospital gown. You’re looking better, I must say, though your bruises are coming out nicely. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry. Where’s Duncan? With Zach?” I used my good arm to dig through the sack. The pajamas were new, of course, since I didn’t own any. I wondered how much of a fuss she’d make when I paid her back for them.

“Duncan is getting something else I understand you asked for. Zach is with Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“How’s he taking all this? He’s not too upset?”

She smiled. “We may have overdone the reassuring. He wanted to know if you’d still take him camping this weekend.”

“We” meant her and Duncan. I was getting used to that. I grimaced. “We’re likely to have had our first snow by the time all the dings in my carcass have healed enough for me to take him.”

“Probably. He’ll survive waiting until next spring. Oh, I talked to Edie. She wants you to let her know if there’s anything she can do.”

She might try leaving me alone. One date is not a lifetime commitment. Couldn’t say that, though. The woman was a friend of Gwen’s. “What about Annie? Did Duncan ever get hold of her?” I knew Duncan had called Charlie, my youngest brother, but Annie was harder to get hold of.

My little sister was currently in a tiny village in Guatemala with her husband, Jack, a construction engineer who works for a nonprofit organization. ICA builds schools and hospitals and such in developing countries. Right now, Jack was putting up a clinic while Annie taught the kids in a one-room, dirt-floor hut.

I still hadn’t gotten used to her being so far away most of the time.

“Oh, yes. Sorry—I forgot to mention that. I talked to her after lunch. She’s worried, naturally, but I persuaded her to hold off on buying a plane ticket.”

I would have liked to see her…but that was selfish. She was needed where she was. I pulled out the book Gwen had brought. “I’ve been wanting to read this one. Thanks. But you forgot something.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“My clothes.”

“If I bring you clothes, you’ll put them on. Duncan spoke to your doctor, Ben, so don’t think you can put one over on us. You are staying here at least two more days.”

I was patient with her. “I’m not planning to leave the hospital without Dr. Miller’s okay. He’s a sensible man, unlike the idiot in the E.R. I just want to have the option of leaving.”

“You get the clothes when Dr. Miller releases you, and not a minute before.”

“Dammit, Gwen, I’m not a two-year-old!”

“You’re as stubborn as one! You’ve got a concussion, a banged-up knee, a big hole in your shoulder and a broken clavicle. You’re not going anywhere right away, and when they do discharge you, you’ll be coming home with me and Duncan.”

No way in hell was that going to happen. “You live on the second floor. I’m not up to handling stairs yet.”

“You’re not discharged yet, either.” She fussed with the flowers and stuff on the table by my bed, making room for the things she’d brought. “And once you are, you can lie around on the couch like a sultan and order everyone around. That should suit you.”

Gwen had adapted well to being my sister-in-law. She sounded more like my sister all the time. Snippy. “I thought I was too banged up for Zach to see. That’s why you didn’t want to sneak him in here.” That, and the fact that, being an attorney, Gwen has a thing about rules, and the hospital didn’t allow kids under ten to visit.

“I’m sure you’ll look better by the time you’re released.” She quit messing with the flowers and faced me. “You are not going home to an empty house in your condition, Ben. Forget that idea.”

That hit too close to home. When I heard the snick of the door opening I turned to face it, relieved. Someone probably wanted more of my blood, or to see how “we” were doing, but that was okay. Better than looking at the concern in Gwen’s eyes.

“You up for some visitors?” Duncan asked.

Even better. I smiled. “You’re not a visitor, you’re a…” My voice trailed off. I forgot what I was going to say.

He’d found her. Duncan had found my angel.

Only she wasn’t, of course. Not mine, and certainly not an angel. A Valkyrie, maybe. Or an amazon. The top of her head was level with my brother’s, and Duncan hits a fraction over six feet.

Her sweatshirt was blue and sloppy beneath a worn yellow parka, but couldn’t disguise beautiful, half-moon breasts. Faded denim stretched tight over a couple miles of legs—firm, rounded, muscular legs. Her hair was a messy riot of brown curls tumbling well below her shoulders. She was built long and lush, strong and stacked, every inch of her pure woman.

It was a body that made quite an impact on a man. I blinked a few times before I got my gaze back to her face. That looked the same as I remembered…except, of course, she wasn’t glowing.

“I don’t think you two were ever introduced,” Duncan said. “Ben, this is Seely Jones. Seely, this is my brother Ben—Benjamin McClain—and my wife, Gwen.”

I had no idea what to say. I hadn’t thought beyond finding her, seeing her again. I cleared my throat. “Unusual name.”

“My mother is an unusual woman.” She turned her smile on Gwen. “You have a very persistent husband. Nice, but persistent.”

Gwen and Duncan exchanged one of those private smiles. “Yes, I do. I hope his persistence hasn’t inconvenienced you too much. I’m very glad to meet you.”

“You’re okay, aren’t you?” I said. “I heard you were treated and released, but no one would tell me what you’d been treated for.”

“Oh, that. I’m afraid I scared the police officer who was taking my statement by fainting, so they felt obliged to bring me in.”

I’d never seen a woman who looked less likely to faint in my life.

My expression must have given my thoughts away, for she laughed. “Absurd, isn’t it? I’ve done it all my life, though. Not often, thank goodness, and no, it is not a symptom of some dreadful underlying health problem—though I did have some trouble persuading the E.R. doctor of that. You seem to be doing well.”

“Thanks to you. I, uh…that’s what I wanted. To thank you.”

She smiled that slow, sweet smile I remembered. “Daisy says everything happens for a reason, but I never thought I’d be grateful to Vic.”

“Vic?” I frowned. “You don’t mean Victor Sorenson.”

“Don’t I?” Her eyebrows went up in elaborate surprise. “I thought I did.” She ambled up to my bed, click-click-click.

I glanced down. She was wearing high heels. My own eyebrows went up. Got to respect the moxie of a tall woman who chooses to wear three-inch heels. “Sorenson’s a worm,” I mentioned, in case she hadn’t noticed.

“I’ll agree with you there.” She spoke the way she moved—slow and easy, as if she’d never hurried in her life and didn’t intend to start. “He fired me last night. That’s why I left the resort so late and ended up finding you. Which is a roundabout sort of gratitude, but there you go. Roundabout is probably the only kind of appreciation Vic’s likely to get.”

“I didn’t know Vic kept a paramedic on staff.”

“I was working as a waitress, not a paramedic.” Her voice didn’t change but her eyes did—as if she’d closed a door, gently but firmly, on that subject. “Vic and I disagreed about the fringe benefits of the job. He thought he was one of them. I didn’t.”

The thought of Vic putting his hands on this woman made me furious. “I’ll talk to him,” I promised grimly.

Duncan gave me a level look. “Don’t do anything I’d have to arrest you for.”

“You should consider filing suit against him,” Gwen said seriously. “Sexual harassment is wrong, and firing you for failing to agree to his demands—well, it sounds like you’d have a good case.”

“Oh, he didn’t fire me because I wouldn’t go to bed with him. I think it was the cannelloni,” Seely said thoughtfully. “It didn’t go with his suit. Or maybe it was the chicken-fried steak. There was all that cream gravy, you see. He was not happy about the gravy.”

A laugh took me by surprise. It hurt, so I stopped. “Dumped a tray on him, did you?”

Her mouth stayed solemn, but her eyes laughed along with me. Extraordinary eyes. Not the color—they were blue, pretty enough, but nothing unusual. Maybe it was their shape, sort of elongated, with a flirty tilt at the corners. Or the way they seemed to offer confidences, as if she and I were old friends who didn’t need to put everything into words.

“I found Miss Jones at the bus station,” Duncan said. “She was buying a ticket to Denver.”

A frown snapped down. “You’re leaving town?”

“Why not? I lost my job.”

“But you have a car. What were you doing at the bus station?”

She pulled a face. “The stupid thing decided to die on me. The mechanic says it’s either some gasket or the whole motor, and he can’t say which without taking everything apart, which will cost a fortune. You’d think he could tell the difference, wouldn’t you?”

“Head gasket, sounds like,” I said, my brain clicking away on an idea. “Or the heads themselves. You must have lost compression.”

“You do speak the lingo,” she said admiringly.

Duncan asked her who she’d taken the car to, then assured her that Ron was a good mechanic. Gwen was looking fidgety.

“But your things!” she burst out. “I can understand leaving your car if it wasn’t worth repairing, but surely you couldn’t take everything with you on the bus. Even if you didn’t have furniture, there’s clothes, dishes, bedding…oh.” An embarrassed flush sped over her cheeks. “It isn’t any of my business, is it?”

Seely turned that lazy smile Gwen’s way. “Probably not, but we can’t help being curious about people, can we? I don’t have much stuff, being more of a wanderer than a nester. No dishes or bedding. A few keepsakes and some clothes, yes, but not that many. Susan seemed happy to accept what I didn’t want to take with me.”

“Susan?” I said, only half my brain on what she was saying.

“Another waitress at the resort. I’d been rooming with her, but I don’t think she minded my sudden departure. She’s had her eye on Vic for a while. Well.” She shrugged, a graceful movement that did lovely things to her breasts. “No accounting for tastes, is there?”

Things were falling into place. “You decided to leave more or less on impulse, then?”

“I do a lot of things on impulse.”

“Then there’s nothing waiting for you in Denver? No reason you need to be there right away?”

She used her eyebrows to ask where I was going with all this.

“My brother and sister-in-law think I’m going to need some help after I leave the hospital tomorrow.”

Gwen interrupted. “Not tomorrow, Ben.”

“They can’t do anything more for me here. Besides, hospitals are unhealthy. People get staph infections in hospitals. Now, Gwen and Duncan might be right about me needing a little help—”

Duncan snorted.

“So I was thinking maybe you’d be interested. You need a job, right? And a place to stay while your car gets fixed.”

“I…” For the first time, her composure was shaken. “Weren’t you listening? I wasn’t planning to fix my car.”

I brushed that aside. “Look, if you’re worried about staying with a man you don’t know, I’m not in any shape to give you a hard time.” Gwen muttered something about my being able to give people a hard time on my deathbed. I ignored that. “Not that I would hassle you, anyway, but you couldn’t know that.”

She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

“What’s the problem, then?” I used my left elbow to prop myself up.

Everything went gray. The next thing I knew, Seely was depositing me efficiently back on my pillows. I’m not sure how she got there before Duncan, who isn’t exactly slow off the mark, but she did.

“There’s a line between stubborn and stupid,” she said, looking down at me. “Something tells me you cross it now and then.”

Duncan grinned. Gwen giggled. I scowled. “I moved too fast, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Seely said. “I can see you’ll undo everyone’s work, given half a chance. All right. I’ll take the job.”

Hot damn. “Good. That’s good.”

“On two conditions. First, you stay in the hospital until the doctor releases you. Second, you’ll do as I tell you while you’re under my care.”

“Now, wait a minute—”

“He agrees,” Duncan said firmly. “Don’t you, Ben?”

Seely’s lips twitched, but she looked at me steadily, waiting. With a sigh, I nodded. “Within reason.”

Gwen spoke. “I hate to put a stick in the spokes, but you really should tell her about Doofus.”

Seely did that question-thing with her eyebrows. “Zach’s dog,” I explained. “My son. He lives with me. Doofus, I mean.” Relief had hit, followed by a wave of exhaustion. It was hard to get words lined up right. “Zach’s in kindergarten. He comes over after school some days.”

“My point is that Doofus is a puppy, not a dog,” Gwen said. “You should be aware you’re not just taking on one large, slightly snarly man. The man is at least housetrained. Doofus isn’t.”

“Thanks a lot, Gwen.”

Seely’s lips tipped up. “I think I can handle a puppy, as long as Ben can handle being bossed around.”

“Within reason,” I repeated. When she nodded, I breathed a sigh of relief. “All right, then. We’ve got a deal.”

Duncan was amused, Gwen was relieved, and Seely…I couldn’t tell. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth smiling, but her eyes seemed distracted, like she was taking a serious look inward.

And me? I was satisfied…for now. “Don’t you want to know how much the job will pay?”

“Money’s not a big issue for me.”

“Uh—you aren’t rich or something, are you?”

Gwen made a choked sound that she turned into clearing her throat. Seely laughed and tucked her hair back from her face. “I’ve been accused of a number of oddities, but rich isn’t one of them.”

The movement drew my attention to the long dangles of multicolored glass hanging from her ears. They reminded me…I glanced at her wrist.

Yes. That was the bracelet I remembered. “Pretty bracelet.”

Her eyebrows lifted gently. “Thanks. The stones represent the chakras. I’m guessing by the look on your face that you know what chakras are?”

“I read.” Bunch of New Age nonsense, but I wouldn’t say that to the woman who’d saved my life.

Everyone wanted me to rest then. I was willing to let them have their way as soon as I’d passed on some instructions for Manny, who was going to have to run things at McClain Construction for awhile. They were right—I was tired.

And I’d gotten what I wanted.

I’d stay here one more night, then I was going home. Not to an empty house, either. Seely would be there. I didn’t think Dr. Miller would give me grief over leaving the hospital once he knew I’d have trained medical help around. And I wouldn’t have to come up with any more reasons not to stay with Duncan while I was recovering.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my brother. Unfortunately, I also love his wife.

Three

Outside, the birds were making a fuss about morning. It was a familiar sound, even this late in the year. There were always a few who wintered over. But usually I didn’t listen to their chatter from a hospital bed in the den.

I sat on the edge of that bed and glared at my knee.

I had no idea how it had gotten hurt, no memory of it bothering me during my crawl up the mountain, but it was swollen to twice its size. Soft-tissue damage, according to the doctor. The swelling should go down in a few days. I was to stay off it as much as possible.

The downstairs bathroom was two rooms and half a hallway away.

All the bedrooms in the house were on the second floor, which is why they’d parked me in the den when I came home yesterday. The den was an addition, tacked on at the very back of the house. The bathroom was opposite the laundry room.

I’d put up with using a plastic basin to brush my teeth, but I was damned if I was going to pee in the stupid urinal they’d sent me home with.

Besides, I wanted more coffee. And something to do. There was a TV in here, but I wasn’t much for television. I like to read, but not all day. The table by my bed held sickroom paraphernalia—water, a glass, pain pills, the stuff Gwen had brought me in the hospital. My laptop, though I’d practically had to sign an oath in blood that I wouldn’t use it to work yet. A little bell I was supposed to ring if I needed anything.

I grimaced at that bell. Last night I’d barely managed one game of solitaire on my laptop. Seely had come in to refill my water and see how I was doing. I’d fallen asleep so fast I wasn’t sure I’d answered her.

I’d done nothing but sleep yesterday. I was sick of it.

On the floor next to the bed, Doofus was growling. He’d sunk his sharp little baby teeth into a dangling corner of my blanket and was killing it. In the kitchen, the radio was playing softly. I could hear quiet, moving-around noises, too…water running at the sink. The refrigerator door opening and closing.

That would be Seely, clearing up after breakfast. She’d brought me eggs and toast in bed.

Damned if I know why people consider breakfast in bed a treat. Even with a bed you can crank to a sitting position, it’s a pain. Besides, I’d had enough of beds. I wanted to shave. I wanted a shower and real clothes, not wrinkled pajamas. I needed to talk to Manny, and my loving family had persuaded Seely not to leave the phone by my bed.

First things first. I stood slowly, having learned that I got dizzy if I tried to move too fast. It was nice, I decided, to hear a woman puttering around in the kitchen. I wondered how much of a squawk Seely would make when I joined her there. A grin tugged at my mouth.

Funny. I was in a pretty good mood, considering I’d smashed my truck and put some major dents in several body parts. But it was good to be home…good to have survived to come home.