Wife by Design

And moved away immediately.

“After what you said about his depression, I expected him to be at least minimally resistant. In my experience, patients with a brain injury like his, one that allows moments of complete lucidity, tend to battle with frustration, resentment and even bitterness as they experience awareness of their loss again and again.”

She didn’t seem bothered by his accidental touch. Grant filed the knowledge away. Yet she’d shied away earlier, when he leaned in too close. He’d never dealt firsthand with a battered woman before, and while he’d assured the gorgeous nurse that he and Darin would behave with impeccable decorum, while his brother’s future depended on them doing so, he’d just realized that he had no idea what that decorum required.

“Darin has his moments, but overall he handles his situation with the dignity and class that I’ve always associated with him,” he said, keeping his voice level down, his tone easy.

One hall led to another and they entered a large, upscale lobby complete with a shiny black baby grand piano set on a dais that dominated about a quarter of the room.

“It’s great when situations like these bring out the best in people. It could just as easily have brought out the worst.” Lynn sounded like a doctor on rounds with med students. Or at least what Grant imagined one would sound like.

“I can’t honestly tell you what Darin’s worst is. Except maybe taking too much on himself. Which, I’m told, brings on the depression. He can’t stand being a burden to me. Or anyone.”

The look she gave him was a bit unsettling, as though she was reading more into his words than he’d put there.

“So you take him to work with you so he feels like he’s contributing,” she said. “That can’t be easy, trying to run a business and watching out for Darin at the same time.”

He didn’t like the way her statement made him feel. As if he had a problem. “Darin’s a big help.” He set her straight on that one. “Even in his childlike moments he can perform the simple tasks accurately.”

As he spoke, his voice rose a bit, and Grant noticed the women milling in the areas around them. Some stared. A couple bowed their heads. One faded away down a hall, giving real meaning to the phrase “fading into the woodwork.”

“I’m sorry,” he said more softly. “Was I too loud?”

“You’re fine.” Her smile made him uncomfortable again. In an entirely different fashion. Grant didn’t have a lot of opportunity for sex in his life, or women in general. But he liked them.

And he liked this particular woman a lot.

“You’re with me,” she said, as though that explained everything.

Maybe it did. These women trusted her.

“That’s why we’re walking all these hallways, isn’t it?” he asked, eyeing her with new respect. “You’re showing them that I’m trustworthy.”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean they won’t be afraid.”

He nodded. And frowned, too, feeling as if he should be able to do something to help.

He was there to do landscaping. Nothing more.

“I’ll keep my distance,” he assured his companion as they entered yet another hallway, this one a bit narrower but still oversized, with closed doors lining both sides.

Lynn stopped before one and knocked. “It’s okay to talk to anyone here,” she told him. “As long as they speak with you first. Our residents need to feel safe, but they also need to be able to interact with men. The world they’ll be going back to is full of them.”

She smiled and, when her knock wasn’t answered, opened the door.

“You know we did background checks on you and your brother this week,” she was saying, reminding him of the permission he’d granted several days before when he’d stopped in to finalize details and paperwork for the day’s appointments. “And Dr. Zimmer vouched for you, as well. You wouldn’t be here if the staff had concerns about our residents being exposed to either one of you. We have four full-time security guards, all women, and three part-timers, two of whom are men. So there’s someone here twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The bungalows all have panic buttons in them and everyone has Security on their speed dial.”

Made sense.

They were in an office—of sorts. There was a desk in one section, but it didn’t dominate the room.

“This is Lila’s office,” Lynn said, brushing a strand of hair back over her shoulder in a movement that was completely feminine—and drew his attention to her...womanliness.

The rest of the place looked like a formal living room in a wonderfully kept, warm and inviting home, with off-white couches, maroon pillows, a vase of roses on the glass coffee table and mirrors with gilded accents on the walls.

Grant was wearing leather work boots and the jeans he’d had on when he’d dug holes at six that morning to mark where a brick fence would be going.

If she was planning to ask him to have a seat, he’d have to come up with a tactful way to decline.

She turned to face the wall, holding the door they’d come through. “This map shows you The Lemonade Stand premises in its entirety,” she said, walking up to a framed three-dimensional aerial photograph that was taller than he was and almost the width of the office.

Grant studied the scaled-to-size model of a complex that was twice as massive as he’d imagined.

And exquisitely laid out.

At one time, he’d had dreams of designing properties just like this one, and he was kind of jazzed at the thought of working on one again. Getting his hands dirty.

And maybe updating and making improvements, too, if...

He was getting ahead of himself. He mentioned flower beds, underground irrigation, fruit trees, all things that he imagined he was looking at but couldn’t be sure.

“I’m sorry, I―”

“It’s not a problem,” Grant assured her, realizing that while Lynn understood the aesthetics of the grounds, she knew absolutely nothing about the technicalities of the job he had in store for him. “All I need is a walk around the place and I’ll find my answers.” He felt like grinning when the frown cleared from her brow.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup.

He couldn’t remember if she’d had makeup on the day he’d spent with her in the hospital four years before. But he thought so.

Her hair had been curled then, too, now that he thought about it. Gathered loosely in the back by some kind of clip. Darin had pulled on a curl, laughing when it sprang back, and Grant had stepped up, preparing to take accountability for his brother if the nurse had been offended. Instead, she’d let Darin pull the curl again and laughed with him this time.

Today her hair was as it had been when he’d seen her the week before. Pulled back tight into a ponytail, with the exception of that one small piece that had escaped and kept falling over her shoulder.

The change, between four years ago and now, made him curious, but no less attracted to her.

CHAPTER SIX

“DADDY GIVED ME this and I named him Sammy and then Daddy taked me to see el’phants but he spit and I got scared and Daddy picked me up and then he sucked water up his nooosse....” Kara’s sweet little voice erupted in giggles. It was the following Saturday afternoon, almost a week since Darin and Grant Bishop had descended on The Lemonade Stand with their charm and kindness. A long week.

Brandon’s gaze met Lynn’s as she took the teddy bear her daughter handed her and stood back to let the two inside the bungalow Kara and Lynn shared. She looked away first. Quickly.

She’d just gotten off the phone with her folks, who lived in Denver to be close to Katie and her kids. Her mom didn’t blame Brandon for his sexual preferences but didn’t understand why he’d chosen to leave his family rather than ignore his gay tendencies. She’d been after Lynn to start dating again.

It was a continuous go-nowhere conversation.

“I took her to the zoo,” Brandon said.

“You said you were going to the beach. She was dressed for the beach and had flip-flops instead of tennis shoes.”

“Can I take Sammy to show him our room?” The lispy voice piped up between them.

“Of course you can.” Lynn smiled at her daughter and, bending down, added, “as soon as you give Mama a hug. I missed you, squirt.”

“I miss you, too, Mama,” Kara said, her pudgy little mouth pouty for a second as she leaned forward to give Lynn a wet kiss. Then, grabbing Sammy from Lynn’s fingers, she tripped over her feet as she ran through the little living area toward her bedroom, stopping before she left them. “Bye, Daddy, see you soon I love you,” she said, the words slurring together in a rush of baby talk that was their rote goodbye phrase, and was gone.

Lynn stood and took the day bag she’d packed that morning from Brandon’s outstretched hand, avoiding eye contact. “You said you were taking her to the beach.”

She sounded petulant. And hated that.

“Lynnie.” Brandon took hold of her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I’m sorry,” he said when, by rights, he could have been telling her to mind her own damned business. While she had full custody and he paid child support, Brandon also had full visiting privileges and didn’t have to tell her anything about his time with Kara. Just like she didn’t have to report to him every time she did something with her daughter.

He also didn’t have to travel to Santa Raquel for every visit. He would be well within his rights to take the child to San Francisco where he’d moved after the divorce.

“I should have called.”

She nodded. “Where’s Douglas?”

“He had to work and couldn’t make it down with me, which is why we didn’t go to the beach. I couldn’t prepare the picnic and keep an eagle eye on her by the water at the same time.”

“I take her to the beach by myself.”

“And you live with her, too. You know every move she’s going to make practically before she makes it. I don’t. I have to rely on my eyes and ears and I’m not going to risk her life on the chance that they’d fail me.”

She was making a big deal out of nothing. And...

“It’s just...her life is so unusual,” she said. “It’s not a bad thing, but because she doesn’t have a traditional home I think it’s important that she is at least able to rely on us to do what we say we’re going to do.”

“I know.” His hand was on her arm again. Rubbing gently. Like he’d done countless times in the past. The touch used to remind her of the physical bond they shared.

Now it just offered support.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “Thank you,” she said, glancing up at him. “I know I’m being an idiot. You couldn’t help your change of plans, and obviously you told Kara about them.”

“You’re not an idiot, my dear. Anything but. And as soon as I knew that plans had changed I should have called you and let you know. If anything had happened to us, you wouldn’t have known where to tell people to start looking.”

Their gazes met and she relaxed. Again. With a smile she asked, “So you had a good time?”

She invited Brandon to stay for dinner, but he had to get to the airport to catch his flight back to San Francisco. He and Douglas had tickets to a jazz festival the next afternoon.

And Lynn had a couple of women to see. One who’d checked in the day before with a concussion, and a twenty-seven weeks pregnant woman, Missy, who’d been spotting earlier in the week.

Knowing that Maddie was due over to feed Kara as soon as Maddie finished her afternoon therapy session, Lynn said goodbye to her ex-husband―but still best friend―and went in to spend a few minutes of quality time with her little girl.

* * *

BY FIVE-THIRTY MONDAY EVENING, Darin’s therapy was done for the day. Grant’s job wasn’t. Finishing up a weeklong venture of trimming, shaping and adjusting irrigation spray heads, he still had piles to load into the trailer hitched to the back of his truck.

“I can’t do my job,” Darin’s little-boy voice came from just behind him. “Not until four more weeks.”

“That’s right.” Grunting, Grant lifted a rake full of thorn-filled branches and, with thick-gloved hands, carried it over to the already heaping trailer.

“No lifting and bending,” Darin said, following at his heels. “I told Angelica, but she already knew.”

“She’s in touch with Dr. Zimmer,” Grant reminded him. “That’s how she knows how to help you.”

“Yeah...” Darin’s voice trailed off. And then he said, “I’d like to go for a little walk, Grant. Not far, just over to the park area. I won’t disturb any of the women, I promise.”

“I’ll bet one or two of them’ll notice your good looks, though, bro,” Grant said, standing to grin at his big brother. “You could’ve shared a little of that charisma with me, you know.”

“Right.” Hands in his pockets, Darin gave him a teasing smirk. “I almost missed my physics final my senior year in college because I was busy rescuing you from a bunch of beauties.”

Darin was teasing. And there was truth in his words, too. Grant, an orphan at seventeen, had given his brother some rough nights.

“Anyway, can I go for a walk?”

Grant studied the other man, thrilled, and a bit cautious, too. Darin almost never left his sight—by choice. If being in therapy, being at the Stand, was going to have this kind of effect on him, the grueling hours were worth every single minute.

Reaching for another pile of brush, he scooped it up between his hands and stood. “Show me which direction you want to go.”

“Over there.” Darin pointed. With his right hand.

“I’m not looking at your right hand, bro.”

Frowning, the older man turned his left side toward the direction he’d been pointing. His tongue rolled inward while the rest of his body remained still. Grant stood, holding the brush. One minute. Two. Sweat beaded on Darin’s upper lip. The injured man’s brow was creased and his gaze trained on his left arm. He took a couple of deep breaths.

And the arm moved. Just like that. Not much. An inch at most. But...

Throwing the brush up in the air, Grant said, “You did it!” and rushed over to grab Darin’s arms. “You did it, bro!”

Darin smiled, but looked off to the distance. “Can I go for my walk now?” he asked, seemingly more harried than happy.

“Of course. No farther than the park, though, okay?”

“Just the park,” Darin said, his voice lifting a bit as he strode off.

And Grant wondered if this was what it felt like when a man sent his kid off for his first campout without him.

* * *

HER CONCUSSION PATIENT was progressing nicely. Not even a headache to speak of. Lynn had a call just before she’d left the office on Monday saying that the woman had attended her first group counseling session and, it was discovered, was an incredible seamstress. She was already at work stitching up some tank-style summer dresses from patterns and fabric that had been donated to the Stand.

Missy, the twenty-seven weeks pregnant resident whose husband had thought a wedding ring gave him the right to take his panic and frustration out on his wife’s body, was doing better, as well. No more signs of spotting. And an examination showed that everything was as it should be. She’d released Missy to normal activity and was eager to get home to Kara. It had been a long day.

She heard the squeal and recognized her daughter’s voice before she saw them. Maddie was sliding down the slide at the park with Kara settled securely between her knees. The playground had been designed for the underage residents at the Stand, most of whom were there with their mothers, many of whom had suffered physical abuse as well as the trauma of living in a fear-based home. “Again!” The curly-haired charmer clapped when they reached the bottom.

Just as Lynn was about to approach, to put an end to the day’s fun and get her little one home for her bath and a quick story before bed, she noticed the man who appeared from the other side of the slide.

“I’ll take her over to you again,” the voice said, a strange combination of masculine capability and little-boy tone. Darin Bishop. The man held Maddie’s hand with his good one, and walked her to the back of the slide. He waited while Maddie climbed the steps and sat. Then he stood with his hands an inch from Kara as she climbed up to where Maddie could reach her.

Ducking behind a tree, Lynn watched for another couple of seconds. She could go back to her house, meet Maddie there as planned.

“You should count.” Darin’s voice carried easily. “One...two...three...go!”

“One...two...three...go!” Maddie repeated, and Kara squealed.

The same sound that had attracted Lynn’s attention in the first place. She wasn’t needed here. Which left her with a rare few moments to herself.

Heading toward her bungalow about a block away across perfectly manicured grounds, Lynn walked the sidewalk that trailed through the grounds, saying hello as she passed a couple of residents, waving to a mother and her two children who’d checked in the week before and thanking the fates that had allowed her to meet a man like Brandon—one who was still kind and protective, even after they were no longer a couple.

Her sister, Katie, her aunt Evelyn, who’d been killed by an abusive husband before Lynn had been born...they hadn’t been so lucky.

And they were the reason Lynn had originally begun volunteering at the Stand. Dr. Zimmer had told her about the place after she’d taken personal leave to fly to Denver and help her mom and dad move Katie’s things out of the five-bedroom home her sister had owned with her ex-husband.

Brandon had been the exact opposite of her brother-in-law. Instead of looking to Lynn for what she could do for him, he’d given her everything that he could give. He’d given her Kara. And the chance to go to grad school and get her certified midwife certificate so she could spend her life exactly as she wanted to spend it—giving to others.

It wasn’t his fault that she’d lost her sexual allure where he was concerned....

“Hey! I was beginning to wonder if you’d left the planet!”

Spinning around, her heart beating a rapid tattoo, Lynn faced the man she’d been trying not to think about. She’d been succeeding, too.

Sort of.

“Grant!” she said, waiting for him to catch up to her. “I just saw Darin over at the park. I wondered where you were.” Or rather, had avoided letting herself wonder by focusing on what mattered. Kara. Their good luck. Their lives.

“Just finished my first round of the grounds,” he said, facing her on the sidewalk as he motioned toward the trailer in the grass, barely visible through the island of trees just behind him. “I’ve got to haul that stuff to the dump still tonight, but was waiting for Darin to show up. He went for a walk.”

“He’s over at the park,” she said. “With Maddie and Kara. I can take you there....”

“I know where the park is,” Grant said, grinning at her. “I spent two days this week getting to know it intimately.”

Was that innuendo intentional? “Of course,” she said, choosing to avoid any possible flirtation. “I’m sorry, I... I’ve been busy,” she improvised. Busy avoiding him.

“It’s certainly busy around here,” he said, his gloves in one hand tapping against his leg. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t.” Lynn glanced around them, looking for escape.

“If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to tell you about an idea I had for the Garden of Renewal.”

Maddie and Kara were still playing, enjoying themselves, thinking she’d be with her patients a while longer. Even if they went back to the house, Maddie would stay with Kara until Lynn got home. And if it was past her bedtime, she’d call to make sure someone else was with them. Maddie didn’t spend the night unsupervised. Meanwhile, Grant was talking about removing the gazebo from the Garden of Renewal and replacing it with benches interspersed throughout the three-acre haven of beautiful growth.

“That way women can have alone time if they need to find renewal from within, or have more personal one-on-one conversations if they’re there with someone else.”

She stared at him. He’d only been there a week. And he understood.

“I never liked the gazebo,” she said. But it had been donated. And there before she’d arrived.

“I think it would be put to better use in the park area,” he said. “That’s a more public gathering place. Unless I’ve misunderstood. But the garden area, it seems to be more of a place to find peace, quiet. Not to gather socially.”

“That’s right.”

He started toward the area visible across the grassy commons. She walked with him—and noticed the perusal he gave her. Which she then told herself she’d imagined.

She spent the next five minutes listening as he talked about a large rock fountain in the center of the garden in place of the gazebo. About flowering shrubs and blooms that would appear at different times throughout the year, giving the garden a sense of new life year-round. Endings and new beginnings, no matter what time of year it was.

She was trying not to think about a new beginning for herself. With him in the picture somewhere.

“What?” He was smiling at her again, but it was a more personal smile.

“What, what?”

“I don’t know. You just looked like you had something to say.”

They weren’t talking about flowers. And she wasn’t imagining anything.

“I appreciate what you’re doing here,” she said, opting for what she knew to be true, not hoping for what couldn’t be. “You’ve captured the essence of what we’re trying to create and devised a plan that would bring it to life much better than anything we’ve accomplished so far.”

He paused, watched her for a moment and then said, “It’s my business.”

“Our agreement only requires you to keep up the premises, not enhance it.”

“Do you always only give what’s expected of you? What you’re required to give?”

They weren’t talking about landscaping. Or jobs.

“Of course not.”

“I didn’t think so.” His expression serious, he moved farther into the garden, with occasional glances back toward where they’d come.

“You can go get him,” Lynn said, understanding the burden of being solely responsible for the welfare of another human being—the senses that had to be tuned in every hour of every day, whether you were physically with that person or not.

Grant shook his head. “No, as much as I’d like to, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“For the first time in longer than I can remember, Darin reached out for freedom today. It makes me nervous, but from what I’m told, he has to form some kind of life for himself or risk falling into a depression that could eventually kill him.”

And she only had to watch over Kara while she grew up and could take responsibility for herself....

“He moved his arm a little bit ago.” Grant’s tone reminded her of Brandon when he’d called her in between her university classes to tell her he’d seen Kara take her first step. “He’s only had six days of therapy and already there’s improvement.”

“That’s great!” she said, meaning it. “I expected it to take a couple of weeks, at least, before there was any noticeable change.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t much. Just an inch or so. But I saw it with my own eyes. He moved his arm.”

“I’m not surprised, Grant,” she said when he started to sound defensive. “Darin’s determined. And the damage the surgery did was to a portion of the brain that is retrainable, as you know. I’m just surprised at the speed with which we’ve seen progress!”

“That’s my brother for you. Once he’s made his mind up about something, there’s no going back.”

The way he was looking at her seemed to be sending some kind of personal message—beyond the perfectly circumspect conversation they were having. Had Grant made up his mind about something, too?

Something to do with her?

And him?

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