Arranging Love (8 page)

Chapter 10

Meghan filled her lungs with the clean air as she marched to her mother’s house. Though she’d gone into her house through the front door, retrieved the spare keys and unlocked both the breezeway and Volvo doors and shut off the engine, she couldn’t bring herself to climb all the way into the car. She needed the comforting sound of her mother’s voice before she drove herself to the shop. A cup of her chamomile tea and a homemade donut and Meghan was sure she could face the rest of her day. The stroke of bad luck she’d been having just couldn’t possibly continue.

Turning into her parents’ driveway, Meghan recognized the additional car immediately. It had recently become a constant fixture next to her mother’s old Buick. Her stomach lurched as she ran up the back steps and threw open the kitchen door. Maybe this was more than a social visit.

“Mum?” She barely skipped a step as she kicked off her snowy boots and shrugged out of her coat. “Mum?” Yelling louder, Meghan bolted through the dining room and into the living room. What she saw stopped her just over the threshold.

“Meghan, how did you get here?” Doc McCarty’s words came out harshly before his mouth curved in a predatory smile, and his voice softened. “I mean, I didn’t hear your car.” He sat very close to her mother on the family couch. His hands, wrapped around
Alice’s, were snuggled in her mother’s lap.

It wasn’t their close proximity that worried Meghan as much as the red rim of sadness around her mother’s eyes. Unable to shoulder the burden of concern, Meghan fell heavily in the recliner across from them.

“Is Daddy okay?” Meghan could barely speak the words.

“Yes…”
Alice’s mouth lifted in a tremulous smile. She paused and looked at the silver-haired man next to her. “Gordon stopped over to make sure I was all right and to see if I needed a ride to the hospital. He also…” Her voice broke, and she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, unable to hold back a small sob.

Doc McCarty’s arm came around her mother, as if he could help her bear some great burden.

Alice found strength in his touch and inhaled, pulling her body up straight. “Meghan, I might as well tell you first.” She looked to the good doctor for support.

He nodded encouragement, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

“Mum,” Julie’s voice sounded over the slamming of the kitchen door.

“In here, sweetie.” Panic swept over
Alice’s face. But the doctor pulled her tighter to his side, and once again,
Alice appeared to calm from his touch.

“Have you seen…” Julie charged into the room, looking first at their mother, then down at Meghan, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Oh, there you are. Meghan, you haven’t answered your phones. Peter’s worried about you.”

“I’ll call him in a minute, Jules.” She waved her hand at her sister. Something was more than a little off-kilter here, and Meghan wanted to know what it was. Her fiancé could wait. “What were you going to say, Mum?”

Julie sensed the gravity of the situation and sat down hard on the piano bench. “Is it Daddy? Did something happen while I was driving here? Why didn’t someone call me? I have my cell phone.” Panic floated on her words.

“Julie. Meghan.” Again
Alice turned to Gordon, who smiled and offered silent encouragement.

Meghan frowned at her mother’s familiarity with the good doctor. If memory served, her mother had dated Doc for a short time, but it had been her father’s charm that her mother had fallen in love with. Their forty-year marriage was a testament to their commitment to each other. This man shouldn’t be here in the middle of their family crisis.

“Gordon thinks it’s time to
think
about…”
Alice swallowed hard. “…to think about … putting your father in a … a facility.”

“No!”

“He doesn’t need that!”

Both daughters spoke at the same time.

“Now, girls. Your mother is having a difficult time with this decision.” Even though the doctor didn’t move, there seemed to be an air of protectiveness where their mother was concerned. “We’ve been talking about it this morning, and I think you should listen to the voice of reason.”

“And who’s voice would that be, Doc McCarty?” Meghan couldn’t keep the anger at bay. How dare this man disrupt their family and upset their mother? Her father would be fine. This man might be a doctor, but he knew nothing of how the Tillings worked as a unit.

Alice patted his hand. “Gordon’s only worried about me and my health.”

“And the best care for your father,” the doctor added.

“Mum, but we’re here to help,” Julie said. “We can come more often if you need.”

“And if that’s not enough, we’ll just hire nurses to be here with you.” Meghan sat forward in the chair, feeling like the suggestion had come out of nowhere. Taking care of their father had been stressful on their mother, but this seemed too drastic a measure.

“Well,
Alice, I think you need family time to talk this over.” Doc McCarty stood as if dismissing all their arguments. He smoothed his palms over his dress pants and picked at a piece of lint on his suit jacket. “This isn’t a decision you can make right away.”

Alice stood and walked around the coffee table strewn with tea cups and partially eaten donuts. “I have the list of numbers and the brochures you brought,” she said, pulling Doc’s coat from the front closet next to the piano.
Alice handed it to him, her voice catching in her throat. “The girls and I will certainly think about everything.”

“Rest isn’t going to be enough after this last attack,
Alice. John simply needs more care than you can provide.” The disapproving smile he flashed Meghan and Julie was unmistakable.

Alice cleared her throat. “Yes, well, the girls are my saving grace, Gordon.” She laid a reassuring hand on Julie’s arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without them all these months. They’ve been the solid rock supporting me.”

“You’re blessed,
Alice.” Doc McCarty’s voice cracked as he wrapped a woolen scarf around the emotion clogging his throat. Obviously, he was still wounded from his son’s murder. Meghan couldn’t imagine going through life without any family as Doc McCarty had to do now.

“Just tell me you’ll think about it. It would be best for all concerned.” He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on
Alice’s cheek. “He’s my friend too. I only want what’s best for all involved.” And with that he left.

Alice bent and began gathering dishes. Both women stood and helped.

“You can’t honestly be thinking this is the right thing for Daddy, can you, Mum?” Meghan’s voice shook. She didn’t want to think that her father wouldn’t pull through this time.

Her mother stood, tears filling her eyes. “Meghan, it was only a suggestion.” A soft sob escaped. “I don’t know why we can’t help him. He’s just getting so sick.” Meghan set down the cups and wrapped her mother protectively in her arms. “I can’t loose him. I just can’t.”

The kitchen phone rang, and Julie slipped out to answer it.

“Daddy’s a strong man. It’s just not his time. I feel it.”

“Oh, I want to believe you’re right. But he just isn’t getting any better.”

Julie came back in the room, her face ashen. “That was the doctor from
Bangor
Hospital
. She needs to see us right away.”

* * * *

The ride to the hospital had been excruciatingly long. Though Julie had broken every speed limit between Delmont and
Bangor, the miles ticked slowly by. None of them had spoken, each imagining what grave news the doctors would deliver upon their arrival.

Now, Meghan stood against the wall, huddled next to Peter, grateful to have his arm holding her up. The pain behind her eyes had quieted to a dull ache, but her stomach still churned unpleasantly. Whether it was from the exhaust of the car or nervous concern, she couldn’t be sure.

Deirdre leaned on the window by the door, her heavy work boot poised behind her on the wall. Nervously picking her nails, she stared at Julie. Being the oldest, she stood next to their mother, her arm around the woman’s waist, both comfort and support. Alice Tilling looked small and frail hunched over the hospital bed talking quietly to her husband.

No one had any idea why they had been summoned—least of all her father.

“Oh, good, you’re all here.” The doctor’s white lab coat fluttered behind her as she swooped into the room, pausing at the foot of the bed to retrieve the chart before taking up position on the far side of the bed. “Good morning, John. I’m Dr. Dixon, Chief of Staff here at
Bangor
Hospital
.” She opened the chart and flipped casually through the pages, the steady beat of the machinery counting the mounting seconds of tension. On a heavy sigh, she closed it and smiled at the family, the expression full of compassion. “The good news is we’ve found the major root of John’s illness.” She pushed her glasses up onto her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as if gathering her thoughts.

She cleared her throat, the sound tightening the knot of dread weighing in Meghan’s stomach. Her gaze swept over the family. “There’s no easy way to say this except straight out. We believe John is being poisoned.”

The sharp inhale of disbelief echoed in the small room.

“You can’t be serious.” Deirdre pushed off the wall, stalking to the bed and staring over at the doctor.

The doctor shook her hand to halt further confusion. “We don’t believe it’s purposefully.” She laid a hand on John’s arm and looked into the man’s eyes, concern etched in the deep furrow of her brow. “Do you have a gun collection?”

John nodded.

“Do you clean and polish them?”

Her father’s head moved slowly up and down again.

Dr. Dixon straightened and squeezed John’s shoulder. “It appears you’ve been poisoning yourself slowly with selenium, John. It’s a compound in the gun bluing solution. It’s similar to arsenic and just compounds over time. We’ve tested your hair and urine, and it’s there. The exhaustion and nausea are due to the poison. We think the stress of it on your system has affected your heart.”

Alice stood tall. Her strength amazed Meghan. “So now what do we do?” her mother asked.

One corner of the doctor’s mouth lifted, but there was only sadness in the smile. “That’s the difficult thing. There is no antidote. I’m sorry.” She paused for a moment and swallowed hard. “But we’re very hopeful we’ve caught it in plenty of time. We’ll increase his fluids and calcium intake. We need to flush the poison from his system as quickly as possible.” She met the glazed stare of worry on each person in the room before turning back to their father. “We’ll need to do some additional gastrointestinal tests to check for permanent damage, but we have every reason to believe you’ll make a full recovery, John.”

Meghan fell against Peter, relief stinging her eyes. All the months of worry and fear had culminated to this moment. There would be no long-term facility, no more late-night vigils in the hospital. Finally, it was over.

“I’ll call Dr. McCarty and let him know,” Dr. Dixon said. “If everything goes as hoped, we’ll be able to transfer you back to the Delmont hospital in a week or two where you can complete your recovery, John.” She smiled, and this time hope sparkled in her eyes. “You’ll be in good hands with Dr. McCarty.”

Chapter 11

“I don’t understand.” Peter poured two more cups of coffee and sat down next to Meghan at the kitchenette. She’d just finished recounting her trouble with the garage door opener. “None of this makes any sense, Meggie.” Concern slithered up his back, and he shivered. “First the cooler, now this.” He leaned over and gathered her in his arms, inhaling the citrus scent of her perfume. “I think your head’s been with your father in the hospital rather than focused on what you’re doing. I still can’t figure out how you locked yourself out of the house and your car.”

“Let’s face it, I’m a klutz.” She smiled at him, and his heart skipped in his chest.

Desire flared immediately. Between John’s illness and the thought of her in danger, Peter just wanted to hold Meghan close and feel the heat of her passion writhing beneath him. He needed the confirmation that they were both alive and well, and all was right with the world. He dipped his head, sucking her full bottom lip into his mouth, reveling in the familiar taste of her.

“How long did you say
Chelsea would be at the shop?” Passion clogged his throat, making his voice husky.

Love sparked in the emerald depths of her eyes, and Peter thought he’d like to fall into them and simply drown. “Long enough to try out some of those new toys you ordered,” she said shyly.

He lifted a brow. They’d sat at the office computer late Monday, Meghan snuggled in his lap as they surfed the Internet for sex toys. The nipple clamps and cock rings had titillated, but when she’d begun looking at floggers and bondage equipment, he’d taken her right there on the couch, hard and fast, satisfying both of them before settling back at the computer and placing an order. “They came already?”

“Well, not the things we ordered Monday.” Meghan’s cheeks flushed. “But I did find the gift you left for me.” She jumped from the chair and scooted down the hall.

He hadn’t gotten her a gift.

He heard the snap of leather coming from the den. The desire of a moment ago turned to lead in his belly.

“I just love it. I found it yesterday in my car.” She skipped back down the hall toward him, snapping the leather flogger against her hand.

Peter thought he would throw up as the fuchsia straps flashed like blood in his vision. He willed his smile to stay in place. “You like it?” He reached out to take it from her, wondering if it would burn his flesh. First the blond doctor in the hospital, now this. His life was about to fall apart.

“And you had it engraved for me.”

She flipped the handle, and he saw the letters
MC
etched into the wood.

“Meghan Claire.” She leaned over and grazed his chin with her teeth. “I think you should brand me with it. I’ve been awfully naughty.”

Peter had all he could do to hold himself together. This was not happening. He’d brought a stranger into their lives, and now he was beginning to wonder if all of Meghan’s accidents weren’t entirely her fault.

“You know…” He kissed her gently and pushed from the table, carrying the flogger with him. Guilt burned a path up his throat, carrying bile with it. “…as much as I’d like to use this on you…” Which he didn’t. “…I forgot about a meeting at work.”

Undeterred, she rubbed up against him, her hand seductively running down the front of his Dockers. “Oh, now, I think you have a few minutes to put me in my place.”

“I don’t.” Fear snapped the words out of his mouth.

Meghan stepped back as if she’d been slapped. “Fine. You don’t have to get angry about it, Peter. I just thought you wanted to.”

He pulled her to him, trying to soothe the hurt he saw in her eyes. “I do. You know I do. I can’t resist you. Just not now. Things are crazy at work.” He bent and kissed her. “Can I take a rain check for tonight?”

“You promise to use that on me?” She nodded at the leather on the counter.

No. He wanted to scream, but he forced a smile instead. “If it’s what you want.”

“What I’d really like if I can’t have you…” Meghan paused and batted her lashes flirtatiously, but Peter shook his head at her offer. “…is a ride to the shop. I just don’t want to deal with cars and garage door openers.” She shivered in his arms.

That suited him. “Since it’s on the way, I’d love to.” They slid into the coats they’d thrown over the back of the chairs when they’d come home from the hospital. Peter slipped the flogger beneath the beige wool when Meghan’s back was turned. It was going into some random dumpster in the city.

He didn’t think
Crystal would harm Meghan, but what did he truly know of the woman he’d been pursuing on the Internet? Had she crept into their lives without him knowing?

“Busy at the shop these days?” he asked, not really knowing how to get information from her without arousing suspicion.

Meghan shot him a curious look over her shoulder as she stepped into the chilled morning. “You know December’s crazy-busy.”

He shrugged as he pulled the front door closed and checked the lock. “No, I know. But are you getting any new customers or anything?”

“No, just the same old same old.” Meghan paused on the brick walk and turned back to him, bumping her head with the heel of her hand. “That’s not true. An old classmate of yours came by last week looking to book a wedding. All this stuff going on with Daddy. I completely forgot to tell you.”

Guilt clawed at his throat, and he swallowed hard, but it didn’t help ease the tension working to bring up his lunch. “Oh, yeah?” The words came out as casually as he’d hoped. “Someone from the university?”

Meghan slid through the passenger door Peter held open. “No, high school or something. She said her name was…” Meghan paused in thought. “Her name was Sarah.”

Peter inhaled deeply, relief sweeping the tension from his taut muscles. He was getting paranoid over nothing.

“Pretty lady,” Meghan continued. “She had the most incredible long, blond hair.”

Peter turned and threw up in the bushes.

* * * *

Crystal had spent the afternoon making the final arrangements. Everything was set, and finally things were falling into place. It couldn’t be working out any better. One more day in
Maine
, then back to
Boston for her usual weekend routine at the hotel.

The hospital was quiet in the late afternoon. Most patients napped, and families stepped out to get early dinners or run errands.
Crystal hoped that was the case with John Tilling’s family. As she moved through the ACU, she reprimanded herself for coming up here. What she needed to do didn’t include John, but after he’d whispered so hopefully in her ear this morning, she’d grown quite fond of the father-figure.

Chancing one more look around, she slipped into his room and grabbed the chart.

The beep of the monitor reassured the staff that his heart was working normally, but put
Crystal on edge. Each breath was measured with the whoosh of the oxygen. Two IV bags hung next to his bed, and she stepped up and checked the labels. Saline solution. Just as she expected.

“What are you doing here?”

Crystal jumped as an older doctor waddled into the room. Other than trespassing, she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong, but guilt at being caught in a stranger’s room brought heat to her face.

“I, umm … was leaving for the day, but wanted to check on one of my patients.” That was a lie, but hopefully this doctor wouldn’t question the credentials hanging from the pocket of her white coat.

John Tilling stirred at their voices, but didn’t wake.

“I don’t recognize you; are you a new resident?” The white-haired gentleman with the piercing blue eyes offered her an out.

“I am.”

“Have you been assigned this case?”

“I haven’t, but I understand…” She flipped open the chart, scanning the latest notes, praying she’d find what she was looking for. “—that Mr. Tilling is suffering from selenium poisoning.”

“Hmmff.” He pushed past her and studied the paper flowing from the EKG. “More likely a bad ticker and old age. But no one seems to agree with my diagnosis.”

She wanted to disagree, but arguing with a doctor on staff didn’t seem prudent.

“Oh, Dr. McCarty. Stopping in to see your patient?” The doctor entering the room smiled at them both.
Crystal immediately handed the dark-haired woman John’s chart.

“Dr. Dixon.” The older gentleman acknowledged the Chief of Staff with a curt nod of his head and a plastic smile. “John seems to be holding his own with your new therapy.”

At the sound of his name, John’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked several times, bringing them into focus. “Ah, my two favorite physicians and my guardian angel.” He reached out a gnarled hand, and
Crystal took it in hers. “I hear I have you to thank for my diagnosis.”

Heat filled her cheeks. All
Crystal wanted to do was leave. This was not the low profile she had intended to keep here at the hospital. “Dr. Dixon’s the one you need to thank, Mr. Tilling. She ran all the tests.”

“Sarah’s being a bit modest, Mr. Tilling. All the credit goes to her,”
Dixon said as she flipped the pages in the chart. “Actually I’m surprised to see you here, Sarah. Didn’t you say you were headed back to
Boston tonight?”

Crystal had told the Chief of Staff that very fact just this afternoon at her acceptance interview. Her residency with
Bangor
Hospital
would begin after the first of the year. But she had no intention of leaving Delmont until she finished her business with Peter. “Actually, I was just leaving. I just wanted to see how Mr. Tilling was doing.” She hoped the lie wasn’t as obvious at it sounded.

“Well, you two seem to have some business to discuss, and three doctors appear to be a bit of a crowd.” Dr. McCarty scooted around
Crystal, stopping momentarily at the door. “John, I think they’ve got you on the mend. I’ll see you in another couple days. And then we’ll make arrangements to get you transferred back to Delmont.” With an absent wave over his shoulder, Dr. McCarty left.

“Too bad you have to leave, Sarah.” Dr. Dixon replaced the chart at the foot of the bed and smiled.
Crystal had instantly liked the Chief of Staff and was looking forward to beginning work with the friendly woman.

“I’m sure the rest of the Tilling clan would like to thank you,” Dr. Dixon said.

“Thanks aren’t necessary.”
Crystal smiled, knowing the Tillings would meet her soon enough.

* * * *

Meghan set the last of the Christmas bouquets in the cooler and used the safety handle to secure the new door. The workman had installed it on Tuesday. One day was all it had taken. She had no idea why she’d waited so long and let such a dangerous thing fester. There was no way anyone was getting locked in there again. Least of all—her.

Grabbing the broom, she swept up the pile of debris that had accumulated over the busy afternoon. It seemed everyone in Delmont was hunkering down for the storm that was expected tonight and had shown up at her business earlier in the afternoon.
Chelsea had even stayed late to help with the onslaught. Now, at a quarter after five, the quiet had settled with the sun. Peter would be here shortly to pick her up.

Peter
. He had acted very odd this morning after they’d come home from the hospital. She was sure she hadn’t misinterpreted the lust in his eyes, but he’d shut down so quickly after she’d thanked him for the flogger. Maybe it was too much too soon. They’d only begun to explore the interesting possibilities of bondage and submission. She rather liked the idea of being whipped. Finding the flogger this morning in the back seat of her car had eased the tension of the potentially disastrous event of being locked in the garage with a running car.

Meghan sighed and retrieved the dust pan, sweeping the bits of ribbon and flower stems up and depositing them in the trash. Still, Peter had been oddly insistent she ride with him to and from work. The car situation had shaken him more than she expected. Though she was grateful he’d be the one driving in the snowstorm, she would rather have seen him head back to bed. Obviously, he’d come down with the flu over the past day. Peter wasn’t prone to vomiting and most certainly not in the driveway.

The bells over the door jingled.

Setting the broom in its holder by the office door, she went out to greet her customer. Just as well someone had come in. She needed something to pass the last hour.

“Hello again, Meghan.” Sarah wound her way slowly through the decorated trees, her mouth curved in an artificial smile. “Do you remember me?”

The ominous question crawled across the back of Meghan’s neck, raising the tiny hairs as it went. “Sarah, is it?” She swallowed hard, trying to remember where her cell phone was. The way the woman moved through the shop as if scoping it out put Meghan immediately on edge.

“Not many customers tonight?” Sarah lilted her voice up to turn her statement into a question.

“People are always dropping in.” Meghan was pleased her voice was steady. She wanted to sound like she wasn’t as truly alone as she felt. “Peter’s coming to pick me up in a minute or two.” She paused, not sure how to make the lie convincing. “I mentioned you were here, and he wondered what school you went to.”

Sarah craned her neck around the counter, checking the back work area. “That doesn’t matter at the moment.” She shot a glance out the front window. Only her car was parked in the lot, the bright beams of the front headlights making eerie shadows on the arrangements displayed there. “We won’t be here when Peter shows up.”

Meghan had no idea why she referred to herself in the plural. “Oh, did you stop in to pick up some bridal bouquet books?”

“No, Meghan, I came for you.”