Falling For Her Army Doc / Healed By Their Unexpected Family

“Then what?” he asked.

“Then guilt them into free shrimp burgers. They’re so good. But no beer. And no dancing on the table.”

“In my defense, it was only a couple feet off the ground.”

“You have no defense, Mateo. Absolutely none. And if I catch you up on a table, and I don’t care how high it is…” She pointed to the chaise on the lanai. “That’s as far as you’ll go. I might toss you a pillow and a plate of food every now and then, but if you dance on a table I’m done.”

Mateo laughed. “You know, from the first moment I saw you walk by my hospital room I knew you were a real softie. Your threats don’t scare me, Lizzie. You haven’t got it in you to make me sleep out there.”

Unfortunately, that was true. Something about Mateo caused her usual resolve to simply melt away.

It wasn’t like him to think only in the moment. At least, he didn’t think it was like him. He’d looked at his calendar and seen that he’d made notes about plans well into the future. Some things still months away. That was certainly a personality trait he didn’t remember—especially now, when he was basically on the edge of living rough and not particularly worried about it.

Was that because he knew he could count on Lizzie as his backup?

Mateo looked at his half-eaten shrimp burger and wondered if he even liked shrimp. Had he been allergic his throat would have swollen shut by now. He might even be dead. But he wasn’t, and his throat was fine.

Subconsciously, he raised his hand to his throat and rubbed it.

“You OK?” Lizzie asked him.

She was sitting across from him at a high-top for two, looking like an Irish lassie who simply fitted in here. Red hair wild. Brown eyes sparkling with gold flecks that were highlighted by the glow of the citronella candle on their table. The brightest, widest smile he’d ever seen.

“Just wondering if I have allergies.”

“According to your military records, you don’t.”

“You really know more about me than I know about myself, don’t you?” he asked. Realizing she had access to his life while he didn’t felt strange.

“You do understand why I don’t just tell you everything I know, don’t you?”

“So you won’t fill my impressionable mind with fake notions of who I am. I know it would be easy…false memories and all that. But sitting here with a stranger who knows me inside and out, while only a couple of hours ago I was homeless without a plan is…disconcerting.”

Lizzie reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’ll bet it is. But if you ever settle down you’ll work through some of it. Maybe even more than you expect.”

He studied her hand for a moment—porcelain-smooth skin, a little on the pale side compared to most of the people at The Shack. Nice hand. Gentle.

“Now that you’re not restricted by any kind of medical ethics with me, tell me how much I can expect to return. Or how much will never return. Can you do that much for me?”

She pulled her hand back. “There’s no formula for that, Mateo. No way to predict. I’d like to be able to give you a definitive answer, but the brain can’t be predicted. You may be where you’re always going to be now, or you may improve. Losing pieces of yourself—or, as I call it, living in a fog—has got to be difficult. I see it, and I understand it, but I can’t relate to it.”

He smiled. “Wish I couldn’t relate to it either. Look, I appreciate you taking me in for a couple of days. I really do need some time to figure out what comes next. But you’re not responsible for me, Lizzie. Just be patient for a little while, and on my end of it I promise no more dancing on the table or anything else. I’ll be cooperative. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

He meant it, too. It was time to figure out his life, and it was nice having a friend on his side to help him. A friend who was patient and caring the way Lizzie was.

“Why didn’t you do that at the hospital?”

“Four walls, a bed, and a window to the world. That’s all it was, and it scared me, Lizzie. Still does when I think that’s all my life might be about.”

“So you refuse traditional help, do everything you can to distance yourself from it, in order to—what? I want to know, Mateo. If I hadn’t lived within walking distance of the hospital, or if a couple of the people who work here hadn’t known where I live, what would you have done? Because so far all you’ve done is walk away. From Germany, from the veterans’ facility in Boston, then in California, and from the hospital here. From—”

She shut up and took a bite of her burger.

“From everything, Mateo,” she said, once she’d swallowed. “And it all adds up to you walking away from yourself.”

“You were going to say fiancée, weren’t you?”

“You remember her?”

“Vaguely. Must have been a short relationship, because she didn’t leave much behind in my head. Except, maybe… She didn’t want to live with someone in my condition, did she?”

“Actually, I don’t know the whole story. It was in your chart, but since you weren’t my patient I didn’t read it. The only things I know about you are what I heard at the weekly patient review meetings.”

“That’s right. By the book, Lizzie.”

“You think that’s a problem?”

“I think in today’s medical world it’s an asset. There are too many people getting involved in aspects of a patient’s care who shouldn’t.”

Suddenly he could feel the tiredness coming on. And the headache. Dull to blinding in sixty seconds. So, rather than pursuing this conversation, he stood abruptly, tossed a few dollars on the table—enough to cover both meals and a tip—then walked away. He wanted to get out of there before the full force of the headache made him queasy, caused him to stagger.

Once away from The Shack, Mateo headed toward the beach, then sat down on the sand, shut his eyes, and tried to clear his head.

Right now, he didn’t care about what Lizzie was holding back. All he cared about was the pain level rising in him and how to control it.

And that didn’t come easy these days. Not easy at all.

She wasn’t going to interrupt him, sitting alone out there on the sand. Mateo was entitled to his moods and his mood swings and it wasn’t her place to hover over him. If he needed her help, he’d ask. Or not.

It was almost an hour later when he returned to the house. When she looked in Mateo’s eyes she saw how lost he was, but she also saw the depth of the man. He was in there—just locked away.

“Look, I’m going out for a night swim, then I’m going to sit on the lanai for a while to relax. You’re welcome to come, or you’re welcome to stay here and read a book, watch a movie—whatever you want to do.”

“You don’t have to feel responsible for me, Lizzie. I can take care of myself.”

“I was just being polite. You look tired, and I thought a swim might make you feel better.”

He looked more than tired. He looked weary. Beaten down. He looked like a man who was fighting with everything he had to get back on the right path. It worried her, even though she had no right to be worried. Still, she couldn’t help herself. There was something about Mateo that simply pulled at her.

“And I was just being honest. I don’t want you disrupting your life for me.”

She smiled. “To be honest, I hadn’t intended on doing that. I just thought it would be a nice way to end the evening.”

With that she went upstairs, changed into her swimsuit—a modest one-piece, black, no frills, nothing revealing—and went straight to the beach alone, leaving Mateo watching some blathering documentary on her TV.

Too bad, she thought as she dipped her toe in the surf. He might have enjoyed this. And she might have enjoyed doing this with him.

She was stunning, even though she was trying to hide it in that swimsuit. But her kind of beauty couldn’t be hidden. Not the outside beauty, and not the inside beauty.

This was a huge imposition, him living in her home. He knew that. But so much of him wanted to get to know her and, while ending up here really hadn’t been his intention, when good fortune had smiled on him he hadn’t had it in him to turn his back on it.

He moved along the beach from where Lizzie had entered the water. He wanted to join her, but he didn’t want to impose. Yet he’d wandered down here, not sure what he was hoping for. Another invitation? Perhaps nothing?

In all honesty he had no right to think anything or want anything, in his condition. But watching Lizzie… It gave him hope he hadn’t felt before. Maybe something in him would change. Or something would reset and at least allow him to look forward.

Unfortunately, Lizzie coming into his life now was too soon. He could see himself with her, but not yet.

Sighing, Mateo shut his eyes. All he could see was Lizzie. Her face. The way she looked at him. Sadness. Compassion. She had the power to change a man. The power to change him. And maybe that was good. He didn’t know, but it felt right. Felt like he was ready.

She’d been on his mind constantly, and he’d thought of little else other than Lizzie from that first moment in the hospital, when she’d walked into his room, sat down in the chair opposite him and hadn’t said a word. Not one single word. She had smiled as she’d watched him, but she hadn’t talked, and it had got to the point that it had been so distracting, even annoying, that he’d been the one to break the silence.

“Why are you doing that?” he’d asked her.

“Sometimes you learn more from observing than talking,” she’d told him.

“And what did you learn from observing me?” he’d asked.

“That you’re not going to be easy for your doctors.”

Mateo chuckled. Prophetic words. He hadn’t been. Still wasn’t. And she’d known that simply by observing him.

“There’s a shorter way back to the house,” Lizzie said, sitting down beside him on the rock where he’d been sitting for the past half hour.

“I didn’t hear you coming.” He scooted over to give her room.

“But I saw you sitting here. I used to sit here back when my dad was getting bad. I was looking for answers, and even though there were none I always went away with a sense of calm. Back then, calm was good.”

“This whole area is nice. Not sure I found any calm here, but the view is amazing.” He slid his hand across the rock until it was just skimming hers. “The only places I’ve ever lived were congested…loud.”

“Sounds like a tough way to live life,” Lizzie commented.

“There are a lot of tough ways to live life, Lizzie. Some we choose, some we don’t.” He stood. “Anyway, it’s been a long, unexpected day, and I’m ready to see if I can get some more sleep. So…” He looked at her, then shrugged. “Care to have me walk you home?”

Lizzie smiled, then stood and took his arm. “I always did love a gallant man. Just never knew they existed outside of fairy-tale books.”

“Well, consider me a poor and humble prince who’s at your beck and call.” He gave her a low-sweeping bow then extended his arm to her.

“Poor?” she asked, as they made their way along the path. “I saw your financials when you were admitted. You’re not wealthy, but you’re certainly not poor.”

“Then maybe poor of spirit?”

Lizzie laughed. “Somehow I doubt that. I think you’re a man with an abundance of spirit. It’s just that your spirit is in hiding right now.”

Mateo was testing her like he’d done in the hospital with everyone else he’d encountered. It was the same, but different, because now he was living in the real world, which called for real coping skills instead of avoidance.

He’d get the hang of it. She was sure of that. But what he wouldn’t get the hang of was using her as his enabler. Once she’d enabled her dad too much for too long. In doing that she’d denied the obvious—that the next corner he turned would be worse than the one before. And the one after that worse again.

Well, not with Mateo. He was testing new legs, so to speak. Taking new steps. Learning new things to fill in the gaps. As much as she wanted to make it her battle, it wasn’t. For Mateo to get better, find his new direction, he had to take those steps by himself, fight his way through to something that fit.

She could be on the sidelines, watching, maybe holding out a supporting hand. But it was his destiny to control. She had to keep telling herself that. His destiny, not hers.

But it wasn’t easy walking into her house by herself, going up the steps to bed alone. No, none of it was easy. In the morning, though, depending on what Mateo did or didn’t do tonight, she’d decide what she would do. Or would not do.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE SMELL WAS HEAVENLY. Coffee and… Was something baking? Lizzie wanted to bask in bed a while longer, simply to enjoy the rich variety of aromas drifting up to her, and she could do that. Nothing was stopping her. She was on holiday, after all. She could bask, lounge, sleep, do anything she wanted.

But the clock on her phone showed it was just a few minutes until eleven, which meant she’d spent most of the morning doing that already. It was amazing how good it felt—especially with her bad sleeping habits. Never more than an hour or two at a time. Sometimes missing sleep altogether for a day or more.

Also, she wanted to see Mateo. No particular reason. She simply wanted to see him and ask what he planned for the day.

So a quick shower and Lizzie was on her way downstairs, where he was waiting for her at the bottom, holding out a coffee mug.

“There was no cream, and you don’t strike me as the type who’d go in for gratuitous sugar, so it’s black. But I did find a papaya tree outside and I picked a ripe one, juiced it, and added a bit to your coffee.”

“You remember what a papaya is?” She was not only pleased, she was surprised.

“My mother used to make them into a salsa to use on fish tacos. And papaya cake. That was the best.”

“I’ll bet it was,” she said, taking a sip and letting it glide down her throat. “What else can you cook?”

He smiled. “Well, those fish tacos I just mentioned. Although I try to eat on the healthy side. Tacos, enchiladas, tamales, burritos…they might be food for the gods, but when you work out every day the way I used to do they’re also food for the waistline, and it’s never been my desire to see mine grow.” He patted his belly. “So far, so good. Oh, and I baked muffins, if you’re interested. Healthy ones. No sugar, no butter.”

“Then you really are a cook.”

“Let’s just say that I’m pretty sure I know my way around a kitchen. Not sure about anything gourmet, but the muffins were easy enough and the coffee was self-defense. One of the nurses in Afghanistan made coffee and it was horrible. I’d been there three days when I decided to take it over myself. Either that or no coffee, because it was eating away my stomach lining.”

Lizzie laughed. “Was she that bad or were you just that gullible?”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I may have known the answer to that at one time. But, since I don’t now, I’d like to say she was bad and leave it at that.”

Did he know how much he’d just revealed to her? It had come so easily now, after she’d spent so much time asking him questions he wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. Then suddenly…this. She wasn’t going to get too excited, but she did hope it was a step forward. Hoped in a non-medical way, of course.

“So, what’s on your agenda for today?’ she asked, fully expecting him to draw a blank on that.

But the bright look coming over his face told her otherwise.

“Clothes. What I have on…that’s it. Hand-me-downs left behind at the hospital. And shoes.”

“Then we go shopping,” she said, smiling.

He chuckled. “I think I’m one of those men who hates shopping.”

“Amnesia doesn’t cut it with me, Mateo. You need clothes—we get you clothes. And I love to shop, so prepare yourself. I could turn this into an all-day outing.”

Mateo moaned. “My mother loves shopping and when I was young, I was forced to walk behind her, carrying her handbag. It was humiliating, especially to a little boy who was bullied and called a mama’s boy, but it worked out because I worked out and got strong, which scared away the bullies.” He smiled. “I wasn’t really a fighter, but nobody ever knew that.”

“Well, I won’t ask you to carry my handbag unless you really want to.”

Mateo moaned again. “Can’t we just do it online?”

“What? And miss the fun of it?” Lizzie took another sip of the coffee and arched her eyebrows in surprise. “This is really good. I’m glad you remembered, because you can make it every morning you’re here.”

“Actually, I didn’t remember the coffee. I remembered my mom and her love of everything papaya. This was just a lucky guess.”

“So, Dr. Mateo Sanchez, skilled general surgeon…”

“Former general surgeon.”

“I’ll get on to that later. Maybe ask Janis to sit down hard on Dr. Jenkins and come up with a better treatment plan for you. Anyway, surgeon, chef, devoted son…what else?

“Not much technology sense.”

“With the technology sense of a nene.”

“What’s a nene?” he asked.

“A goose.”

She didn’t know if a few memories really were slipping back or if these were things he’d simply kept to himself. Maybe to maintain some control? But she wasn’t a shrink and, whatever the case was, she wouldn’t ask.

“The official Hawaiian bird, actually.”

“Seriously, with all the pretty little colorful birds everywhere, Hawaii chose a goose?”

She turned and strolled out to the lanai, where one of those “colorful birds”—a beautiful yellow-green amakihi—was sipping nectar from one of the nectar stations her dad had built. He’d had such a way with the birds, and with flowers. It was all still there—the colors, the care he’d taken… It was the first thing she went to look at every single morning of her life.

“The goose is a worthy bird,” she said, stepping away from where the amakihi was feeding, so as not to disturb it. “They’ve been here half a million years, and they don’t damage their habitat, so they’ve earned their place.” She studied the muffin he was holding out for her. “I’m assuming papaya?”

“I was taught to take advantage of what you’re given and be grateful for it.”

“As long as you didn’t climb the tree to get it, I’m good. But if you did…”

Mateo chuckled. “It was on the ground. Trust me. I may not remember a lot of things, but I do remember that head injuries and climbing up papaya trees don’t mix. So, about my clothes…”

The headache wasn’t bad, but it was too early to feel this tired. All he wanted to do was sit out on the lanai and doze, even though he’d been the one to suggest clothes-shopping. Too much, too soon. Making the coffee hadn’t been bad, but baking the muffins had done him in.

He had to show her he was better, because if he didn’t she’d pack him off to a hospital somewhere. There was nothing in him that wanted to go. In fact, even though he’d worked in a hospital, being turned into a hospital patient filled him with a fear that, when he thought about it, nearly paralyzed him.

He wanted to know why, but the answer didn’t come to him when he tried to find that piece of himself. In fact, the more he visualized himself as a patient, the more he sweated and came close to an anxiety attack.

There were so many mysteries to his life still locked away that when he let it happen the frustration of it all led to a bad temper. But bad temper didn’t solve his problems. So why go there? Why not detour around that roadblock? Because perhaps, at the end of the road, something better might be waiting for him.

It made sense. Now all he had to do was convince his logical mind to follow through. And that was the tough part. Because the other part of his mind still wanted to kick and rebel.

But not so much since Lizzie.

“It’s not too far. If you’re up for a walk, it’s about a mile.”

She was dressed in a Hawaiian wrap-skirt, midi-length, yellow with a white floral print. Her shirt was a strappy white tank top that left a bit of her belly exposed. No bra. Hair tucked into a floppy straw hat with a few wild tendrils escaping, oversize sunglasses, and sandals.

Normally when she wasn’t on duty she slouched around in terry shorts and an oversize T-shirt—with a bra. Going out with Mateo, for some uncharted reason, she wanted to look better. Funny how looking better made her feel better. Today she was feeling great. Something that hadn’t happened very much recently.

“In fact, there are several shops, so you’ll have a choice of clothing.”

He stood, gave her an appreciative stare, and slipped into his sandals. “So what kind of clothing are we talking about?” he asked, as his gaze stopped on her exposed belly.

“Whatever you like. Do you remember the way you used to dress?”

She did like the three-day stubble on him, and hoped it wouldn’t go once he’d fixed himself up.

“I remember scrubs. A couple of suits… Don’t know if I used to hate them then, but the thought of wearing a suit now…” He faked a gigantic cringe. “Pretty sure I slept in the buff.”

“Too much information,” Lizzie said, fighting back a grin—and a vision of Mateo in the buff.

As a doctor, she’d seen a lot of him, but not all. As a woman, her fantasies went well beyond—and that was dangerous.

Mateo and her on the beach. On a blanket. Him rubbing sunscreen on her back, her shoulders, her thighs…

Definitely dangerous territory, since she hadn’t sorted out what kind of man, if any, she wanted in her future. “You’ve been in the Army for a while. You weren’t sleeping in the buff there.”

He laughed. “Well, maybe if I didn’t in the past, it’s something I might start doing in the future.”

“Beach shorts. Tropical print, lightweight, somewhat baggy, stopping just at the tops of your knees. And a sleeveless T-shirt. Maybe some cargo shorts and a few cotton floral print button-up shirts. Also a pair of long khaki pants, with a white, breezy cotton shirt.”

“And here I was, picturing myself more as a surf bum.”

“Do you surf?” she asked, her mind still stuck on beach shorts and sleeveless T-shirts.

“Don’t have a clue. Do you want to teach me?”

“Your last doctor advised you to stay away from activities like that for at least four months. It hasn’t been four months.”

“Then it’s a good thing my last doctor no longer has a say, and my new friend just might be willing to show me some basic, non-threatening surfing moves. If she surfs.”

“She does—and she’s very good at it.” She hadn’t done nearly as much of it as she would have liked, owing to her dad’s condition, alongside her hyper zest for work. But the thought of surfing with Mateo—well, at least bodyboarding—caused a little flush of excitement. “And if she decides to take you out, she’s in complete control.”

“I never thought she wouldn’t be.” He smiled. “Anyway, my look is your decision. Except red. I won’t wear red.”