An awful premonition shook her. ‘Monday, of course.’ Though she suddenly realised there was no ‘of course’ about it. If she couldn’t recall a visit from the doctor, then...
‘You’ve been quite sick, Josie.’
‘What kind of sick?’
He folded his arms and glared in the direction of the sink. As long as he didn’t glare at her she didn’t mind.
‘You have a chest infection.’
Uh-huh. ‘What day is it?’
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck then glanced at her through the lock of hair that fell forward on his forehead. ‘Thursday.’
‘Thursday!’ She surged upright, found it hard to breathe again and subsided back against the pillows. How could she have lost three days just like that? Another thought spiked through her. She didn’t jump up and wring her hands, although she wanted to. Her mouth went dry. ‘Have you been looking after me all that time?’
He nodded and she wanted to cover her face with her hands and curl up into a ball. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No big deal.’
No big deal. He was joking, right? It was a huge deal.
Had he seen her naked? The thought spiked through her and she wanted to die. ‘Serves you right for that crack you made last week about not being my nursemaid,’ she suddenly snapped. ‘You shouldn’t tempt fate like that.’
He blinked then grinned. ‘You’re going to be one of those grumbling, sniping, griping patients, huh?’
She covered her mouth with her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Nah, it serves me right.’
It did?
She shook her head. ‘I know how much you hate being... I mean, I’m sorry I’ve been such a nuisance. I wouldn’t have put you to so much trouble for the world.’
He reached out and clasped her hand, his eyes gentle. ‘I’m quite sure you’d have much preferred to stay healthy.’
He leaned back with that grin and her mouth watered. She suddenly found it hard to breathe leaning back against the pillows too.
‘So, as penance, I have to spend the next three days playing chess with the worst chess player in the history of man.’
Josie stared then laughed. It ended in a fit of coughing. Kent’s arms came around her and held her steady until it finished. Finally she drew back, just far enough to stare up into his face, to take in the lean, tempting line of his lips. He needed a shave and she wondered how it’d feel to run her palm along the length of his jaw.
Kent released her and shot to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Time for you to rest.’
Then she remembered the way he’d raced away from her that day by the river, and how he’d avoided her ever since.
How he didn’t want her on his mountain.
‘Is that how long I have to stay in bed?’ Is that what the doctor had ordered? ‘Three days?’
‘At the very least.’
She couldn’t continue being such a drain on him for another three days, but she found it hard to focus that thought as her eyes fought against the sleep that suddenly wanted to claim her. ‘I can’t possibly stay here.’
‘Sure you can.’
No, she couldn’t. But her eyes closed and she found she didn’t have the strength to push the words past her throat.
* * *
Fabulous. Wonderful.
Kent dragged a hand down his face. It’d been hard enough dealing with a Josie who was out of it. Having to touch her, hold her, whilst he administered antibiotics and made her sip water. Having to steel himself against the desire that coursed through him when he sponged her down, when he changed the sheets. Whenever he darn well looked at her. Having to fight the urge to kiss her when, in her delirium, she told him she dreamed of making love with him.
He despised himself for his weakness, for not being able to view her as just another patient. His lips twisted. So much for maintaining a professional distance.
He dragged a hand down his face. A sleeping Josie had strained all his reserves of self-control and discipline, but a waking one was that much more potent again. He didn’t know how he’d get through the next few days.
* * *
‘What about your cows?’ Josie asked the next time he moved to sit on the edge of her bed.
‘Steers,’ he corrected. He hadn’t realised she was awake. He hadn’t wanted to wake her either, but it was time she ate something. She eased herself up into a sitting position. He propped the pillows behind her.
‘Who’s looking after them?’
He suppressed a grin. He should’ve known it wouldn’t take her long to get around to that. ‘Smiley McDonald. A neighbour. We have an arrangement.’
She eyed him doubtfully. ‘You do?’
‘Yep.’ He slid a tray holding a bowl of soup and a couple of slices of toast onto her lap.
‘Which is?’
When she didn’t pick up her spoon and start eating, he put the spoon into her hand. ‘Smiley hangs his head over our boundary fence and checks on my cattle. If there’s a problem he takes care of it, or calls the vet, or lets me know. I’m returning the favour next month when he attends his sister’s wedding in Adelaide.’
‘Oh.’
She started to eat and he moved to the hard chair by the table. When she finished he cleared the tray and returned with a glass of water and a pill. ‘Antibiotics,’ he said when she hesitated.
‘Thank you.’ She took it without a murmur. ‘Thank you for lunch and thank you for taking such good care of me.’
She smiled and in that instant he swore it was all worthwhile. ‘Not a problem.’ He retreated to the sink, out of temptation’s way. Or at least out of its reach for the moment.
‘Yes, it is. You said it’s three days before I can get back up.’
He swung around sharply, not liking the tone of her voice. ‘You won’t be able to do too much all at once.’ He didn’t want her overdoing it. ‘You’ll need to take it pretty easy for a couple of weeks.’
‘But—’
‘There are no buts. Not if you don’t want a relapse.’
She huddled back against the pillows and bit her lip. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it’d all be OK. She just needed to take it easy, that was all. He bet she wasn’t used to taking it easy. He had a feeling that over the last few months she’d taken care of her father at the expense of her own health. He didn’t like that thought. Why hadn’t her brothers looked out for her? He straddled the chair and tried not to scowl. He’d make sure she took it easy.
‘I can’t trespass on your kindness for that long.’
‘Sure you can.’
‘It’s not fair on you. You have your work and other responsibilities.’
No, he didn’t. Not real responsibilities like making a sick person well again. He’d forgotten what that felt like...and he missed it. He shrugged the thought aside. He’d chosen his path. ‘Lots of things aren’t fair.’ It wasn’t fair she was stuck halfway up a mountain on a holiday she didn’t even want.
‘I’ll have to go home.’
Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and the words jarred through him. He leapt out of his chair, but then didn’t know what he meant to do. Concern spiked through him when the colour drained from her face.
He closed the distance in an instant and felt her forehead—cool and dry. Her fever hadn’t returned. Relief flooded him. ‘Josie, you’re not strong enough to drive home just yet.’
She met his gaze then glanced down to where her fingers pleated the blanket. ‘I know, but if you rang Marty and Frank then they could come collect me.’
Marty and Frank wouldn’t look after her as well as he could. If they were such good brothers, why had they sent her out to this God-forsaken spot in the first place, huh? He didn’t want to let Josie out of his sight until he was one hundred per cent sure she was well again.
‘Will they be able to look after you?’ he fired at her.
‘Of course.’
‘Properly?’
‘Yes.’ She laughed but he caught the strain behind it. ‘I think it’d be for the best, don’t you?’
Her soft words speared through him and he wanted to say no. But damn it. What could he offer her other than a rustic cabin, huh?
And a hard bed.
And tinned soup.
She hadn’t wanted to stay when she was well, why would she want to stay now she was sick? She deserved all the comforts of home and she wouldn’t get those even if he moved her up into the house. She should be taken care of and made a fuss of by her family and friends, the people who loved her. A circle that didn’t include him.
His hands clenched. If that was what she wanted he’d make sure it happened. ‘I’ll do whatever you need me to,’ he promised. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay?’
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘You’re not my nursemaid, remember?’
She didn’t say it in a mean way to make him eat his words or anything, and that only made it worse. ‘But—’
‘We both know I’m someone you just got lumped with.’
‘Not true.’ He wished he’d been friendlier in the first week of her stay. He shifted awkwardly. ‘You’ll be missed.’
She raised an eyebrow and he found himself shrugging. ‘Liz enjoys her morning cuppa with you. And I haven’t seen Clancy looking so dapper in a long time.’
‘Oh.’ She gave a wan smile.
‘And I was looking forward to thrashing you some more at chess.’
She sent him an even thinner, sadder excuse for a smile. ‘I don’t believe you.’
If he kissed her she’d believe him.
For Pete’s sake! She’s sick, you jerk.
On second thoughts, it was probably a good idea if she went home. A scowl scuffed through him, but he kept his face bland and pleasant. No, not pleasant. He couldn’t do pleasant if his life depended on it. He could just about manage polite if he concentrated really hard.
He concentrated really hard then seized a notepad and pen and thrust them at her. ‘If you write down their phone numbers I’ll get on to it.’
He swung away to lean in the doorway and stare out at the view. He wanted to get out of the close confines of the cabin. Now. He needed to stride out beneath a big sky and breathe in fresh air.
When he swung back, he found Josie pale and trembling. He was at her side in the space of a heartbeat, but she refused to relinquish the notepad when he tried to take it. ‘Rest,’ he ordered, cursing himself for not keeping a closer eye on her. ‘We’ll deal with this later.’
She scribbled down the numbers, tore off the top page and handed it to him. ‘I’ll rest while you get on to this.’
She hunkered back down under the covers and turned her back to him. He didn’t even try to keep the scowl from his face as he strode from the cabin.
He glanced down at the scrap of paper. She’d scrawled four phone numbers—home and business for Marty, home and business for Frank. He wanted to scrunch it up into a ball and throw it away. When she woke he could tell her she’d dreamt the whole incident, and that she was staying put until she was well again.
But he knew it wouldn’t work. Josie wasn’t delirious any more. She knew fact from fiction. She knew what she wanted.
She wanted to go home.
He slammed into the house. It seemed strangely grey after the touches of colour Josie had added to her cabin. His scowl deepened. Without giving himself time to think, he pulled the phone towards him and punched in the first number—Marty, business.
Ten minutes later he slammed the phone down. The sound echoed in the sudden silence.
Of all the miserable low-lifes! Once he’d discovered she wasn’t sick enough for hospital, Marty Peterson had claimed he couldn’t possibly collect Josie before Tuesday next week at the earliest.
Tuesday. That was five days away.
And he was dreadfully sorry for the inconvenience, but he’d make sure Mr Black was amply reimbursed for all the bother.
Bother! Kent snorted. Josie didn’t need some jerk throwing money around. She needed family and friends and some wildly overdue pampering. What she didn’t need was a miserable excuse for a brother who couldn’t come and collect her because he had very important work to do.
Kent would give him very important work. If he ever clapped eyes on Marty Peterson he’d knock him flat on his back.
He punched in the business number for the second brother, Frank. They couldn’t both be low-life scum. Josie was a sweetheart. At least one of her brothers had to share some of the same personality traits, surely?
A busy signal greeted him. He gripped the receiver so hard by rights it should’ve cracked. He slammed it down and swore once, loudly. What was the bet crappy brother number one was on the phone warning crappy brother number two?
He paced. These were the guys whose feelings Josie had wanted to protect by staying here and not complaining?
It took him forty-seven minutes to get through, but he had no intention of giving up. Finally a secretary answered and informed him regretfully that Mr Peterson was away on a business trip, and would he like to leave a message?
The kind of message he wanted to leave would’ve blistered her ears and peeled the paint clean off the kitchen wall. He reminded himself not to shoot the messenger. With a curt, ‘No,’ he hung up.
What the heck was he going to tell Josie?
He had vivid, satisfying visions of beating both men to a pulp. Immature, he admitted, but still satisfying. He rubbed the back of his neck, his mind working overtime. He could drive Josie home himself. A round trip would take the best part of a day. No drama. He could drive her car then hire another for the return journey. At least he’d know she’d arrived safely. Three hours there, a couple of hours to see her settled, then three hours back again.
But what would she be going home to? He couldn’t count on her brothers with their very important work to look after her. And she had that sick neighbour. He couldn’t count on Josie looking after herself properly if she thought somebody needed her.
Nope, he wasn’t taking her home. He might only be able to offer her a rustic cabin, but he could make sure she got the care she needed. That at least was something he could do. He reached for the phone and made another two calls, both far more satisfying than the earlier two. He actually found himself smiling at the end of them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
J
OSIE
MUST
’
VE
DOZED
because when she next opened her eyes the sun had moved across the sky and the shadows outside her cabin were lengthening. She reached for her watch.
‘Nearly four o’clock,’ Kent said.
She couldn’t believe how much she’d slept. A thought that slid right out of her head when she sat up and gazed at him. He sat sprawled at the table with one of her crossword books and he looked so good her mouth started to water. It was pointless all this wistful sighing and mouth-watering, but she couldn’t seem to stop it.
The sooner she left the better. For both their sakes. She gulped and tried to make herself believe it. ‘Did you—?’
‘What’s a five-letter word for food seasoning? The fourth letter is M.’
She tried to visualise the word. ‘A food seasoning? No other letters yet?’
‘I think four down is “astonish”, so that would give us H as the second letter.’
‘Something—H—something—M—something? I don’t like it.’ She held her hand out for the book. ‘I bet you’ve made a mistake.’
He handed it to her then stretched out along the foot of her bed and looked so darn sexy her eyes crossed, making it impossible to decipher the puzzle in front of her.
‘Well?’ He yawned.
‘I can’t make it out.’ Wasn’t that the truth?
He yawned again and guilt speared through her. She wondered how much sleep he’d managed in the last few days. Not much in those hard chairs, she’d bet.
She wanted to curl into a ball again and hide. The hairs on her arms lifted and her skin prickled whenever she thought about it. She opened her mouth to ask when Marty and Frank would be here, and something a whole lot greyer than guilt shuffled through her at the thought of leaving.
‘Thyme,’ she suddenly blurted out. ‘T-H-Y-M-E. A food seasoning.’
Kent beamed at her and some of the greyness lifted. She’d ask about Marty and Frank right after she and Kent finished the crossword. But once they’d finished it, Kent stood and stretched, glanced around the cabin and she knew he was surveying the changes she’d made.
‘Do you like it?’
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. ‘What’s not to like? You’ve totally transformed the place.’
She snorted. ‘Nonsense.’
‘You have,’ he insisted. ‘The atmosphere in here is completely different.’ He glanced around again, his brow furrowed. ‘ I can’t even figure out what it is you’ve done exactly.’
‘I’ve done nothing more than thrown a rug on the floor, a tablecloth on the table, and hung something cheerful at the windows.’
‘What about that?’ He pointed.
She shrugged. ‘I hung a picture. Hardly an earth-shattering change.’
‘And those?’
‘They’re just some candles I bought. They’re supposed to smell like chocolate when you burn them.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘You know, you might be right. Maybe I should do something...more with these cabins.’
Her jaw dropped. She wanted to throw her arms around him.
Bad, bad idea. What she should really be doing was asking him if he’d spoken to Marty.
But she couldn’t seem to push the words out and in the end it was Kent who raised the subject first. ‘Are you close to your brothers, Josie?’
‘Why?’ Her chin shot up, her back stiffened and she slammed the crossword book closed. ‘What makes you ask?’
He raised his hands and backed up. ‘No reason.’
She ordered herself to act less defensive, less...touchy.
‘But they sent you out here to the back of beyond, didn’t they?’
His voice was light, teasing, as if trying to put her at ease, and it roused all of her suspicions. ‘Why, what did they say? You have spoken to them, haven’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘Only Marty so far.’
‘And what—?’
‘Knock, knock.’
Clancy stood in the doorway, an enormous bunch of flowers in one hand, an assortment of odds and ends in the other.
‘How are you feeling, lass?’ He placed the flowers in her arms.
‘Oh, Clancy, they’re beautiful.’
‘Knew you’d like them. They’re a bribe.’
‘A bribe?’
‘If you can’t come to me for lunch then I’ll just have to come to you.’ His dark eyes twinkled. ‘If you can fit me into your schedule, that is.’
She didn’t even know if she’d be here for lunch tomorrow. She could be on her way home. ‘Oh, Clancy, I...’
Kent shook his head wildly behind Clancy’s back and Josie swallowed the rest of her words and pasted on a smile. ‘Why, that sounds lovely.’
Clancy beamed his delight and guilt trickled through her. And regret. She’d miss him when she left.
She made a silent promise to have lunch with him tomorrow, although Marty and Frank wouldn’t like the delay if they were here by then. Her insides shrank. In fact, they’d hate it. She steeled herself against tomorrow’s inevitable argument and forced her attention back to Clancy. ‘Though you’re a little late for lunch today.’
‘Oh, aye,’ he agreed, setting up a folding table by her bed then taking her flowers and handing them to Kent. ‘Make yourself useful, lad. Put those in water.’ He disappeared back outside. Kent looked so charmingly nonplussed Josie had to laugh. The flowers did nothing to take the edge off his masculinity, though.
‘I wanted to get in early and make it a date for the rest of the week before someone else snapped you up,’ Clancy said, trundling back into the cabin with her camp chair and setting it by the folding table. ‘Those others,’ he nodded to the wooden chairs by her table, ‘are too hard for old bones like mine.’
He set about brewing a large pot of tea, as at home in her cabin as if born there. Kent managed to distribute the flowers between a single vase and a couple of jugs. Their fresh, clean scent filled the cabin. ‘Clancy, you don’t need to bribe me to have lunch with you.’
‘They’re not for lunch, lass, but for this.’ He held up a pack of dominoes. ‘Been feeling kind of dull over the last couple of days. Need a game or two to liven me up.’
Nonsense. He wanted to liven her up, keep her from being bored. His kindness touched her. But even she couldn’t deny the enjoyment that coloured his cheeks and enlivened his eyes as he poured cups of tea, sliced a Boston bun and set out the dominoes.
He lifted his eyebrow at Kent, who hovered near by. ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after the patient. Don’t you have work or something to do?’ He held out the plate of Boston bun. ‘Take a slice and be off with you.’
Josie choked back a laugh. Kent grinned. ‘I can take a hint.’
Clancy’s white hair danced. ‘Smart man.’
A part of Josie followed Kent right out the door, wanting to dog his footsteps as he left. A bigger part of her wanted to throw her arms around Clancy and thank him. Kent probably needed a break. The less of a strain she proved to be the better.
Clancy stayed for just over an hour and left with promises to return for lunch tomorrow. He even left his folding table and dominoes. She stared at them and gulped. She had to find out what arrangements Kent had made with her brothers.
As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Kent stuck his head around the door. ‘Worn out?’
‘I’m fine.’ She pulled in a deep breath. ‘Kent, what—?’
‘That was kindly done.’
She blinked. ‘Oh, you mean it was kind of Clancy to come and visit?’ Her face cleared. ‘Of course it was and—’
‘I meant exactly what I said.’
He folded his arms and the material of his T-shirt strained across his shoulders and the muscles of his upper arms. A great sigh rose up through her.
‘He has one living relative. A nephew in Scotland. He’s lonely. Visiting you made him feel needed.’
Josie didn’t know what to say. ‘I...I enjoy his company,’ she finally managed.
‘Exactly.’
‘That’s not kind, it’s human.’
Kent took a step back and frustration pulsed through her, though she couldn’t have said why. ‘Look, Kent, what—?’
‘Hello?’ Footsteps sounded outside on the veranda and Liz appeared in the doorway, basket in hand.
‘Come in,’ Josie urged when she hovered there, staring from one to the other.
‘Are you sure? Am I interrupting anything?’
Josie snorted though she wasn’t sure why she did that either. She was aware of Kent’s narrow-eyed gaze, though. ‘You’re not interrupting and visitors are always welcome.’ She refused to look at him.
Liz bustled in. ‘To be honest with you, I needed to get away from Bridget for a bit. You know what I mean?’
Josie wasn’t sure if she should nod or not, but it didn’t matter. Liz, with a roll of her eyes, took Josie’s agreement for granted. Josie blinked when Liz pulled out a casserole from her basket and popped it in the oven.
‘I told Bridge I was eating out tonight. I hope you don’t mind.’
Josie shook her head. ‘Not at all.’
Liz settled herself in Clancy’s camp chair. ‘No offence, Kent, but my Hungarian beef stew is a whole lot tastier than your tinned soup.’
Kent straddled one of the hard chairs. ‘None taken.’
As the rich aroma of the casserole filled the air, Josie’s mouth started to water. From the furtive glances Kent sent towards the oven, she guessed his did too.
‘It’ll be ready in thirty to forty minutes.’ Liz edged her chair closer to the bed. ‘Just long enough for us to have a cosy, girly chat.’
Kent shot to his feet. ‘I’ll, umm, go do some stuff.’
Josie couldn’t mistake the wistful glance he directed towards them, though. She remembered Clancy’s comment the day of the fête, about how Kent wasn’t cut out for all this solitude. She wanted to ask him what stuff he had to do.
She wanted to ask him to stay.
Then she remembered she was a millstone around his neck. It wasn’t company he pined for. At least, not hers. It’d be the food. And it smelt so good she didn’t blame him.
‘I’ll be serving up in forty minutes, so if you don’t want to miss out...’
Kent grinned and it did the strangest things to Josie’s insides. A grin like that should come with warning bells and flashing lights so a person had the chance to look away before it bammed them right between the eyes. So they had a chance to maintain at least a scrap of balance.
‘I’ll be back.’ He settled his hat on his head, touched the brim in a farewell salute and swaggered out.
Josie couldn’t help but admire the view as he left.
Liz leaned forward and touched Josie’s arm. Josie could see the strain on her face. ‘This is going to sound awful, but your getting sick is a godsend to me. Don’t take it the wrong way, love.’ She patted Josie’s hand. ‘I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly.’
Josie didn’t doubt it.
‘But it does give me an excuse to get out of the house.’
Josie sat up a little straighter. ‘Is it really that bad?’
Liz nodded. ‘Your having breakfast with us helped me cope with her. Deflected her attention from me for a bit. She makes me feel like an invalid.’ She paused. ‘I loved Ted and I miss him terribly, but just because he’s no longer here doesn’t mean I can’t look after myself.’
‘Of course not.’
‘But you try telling Bridge that.’
Bridget was pretty overbearing. ‘She means well.’
‘Oh, I know that, love. If she didn’t I’d have turfed her out on her ear by now. But coming to see you not only gives me a break from her, but also makes me feel useful again.’ She hitched herself up. ‘I’m not ready to be put out to pasture just yet.’
Josie’s throat started to thicken.
‘I finally have a reason to cook dinner again if you know what I mean.’
Josie knew exactly what she meant. For the first week after her father had died, she hadn’t seen much point in cooking for one. She hadn’t felt much like eating either.
‘So if you don’t mind, I’d like to stretch your illness out for at least a week. Then I’ll have to think of something else because I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do once you leave.’
Josie gulped. A lie of omission was still a lie, and she couldn’t do it. ‘Liz, I might be going home as soon as tomorrow. I asked Kent,’ insisted more like, ‘to call my brothers to come and collect me.’
Liz stiffened. ‘Get him to call them back and say you’ve changed your mind. You don’t really want to cut your holiday short, do you?’
‘I... But...I can’t keep being such a burden on Kent.’
‘Nonsense. You’re good for him.’
She was? How?
Before she could ask, Liz had rushed on. ‘How are you a burden? The worst is past. Kent doesn’t need to sit up with you all night now, and you’ll be right as rain after a bit of bed rest. What does he have to do? I’ll cook you dinner in the evening and,’ she folded her arms, ‘I know how much Clancy is looking forward to taking care of your lunch. He dropped by the store as pleased as punch about it.’
Josie bit her lip.
‘All Kent has to do is make you a piece of toast in the mornings and pop his head around the door a couple of times a day to check if you need anything.’
When it was put like that...
‘In fact, he’ll be gaining from the arrangement because he can have his dinner with us instead of cooking it for himself.’
That was true.
‘And I need you to help me figure out what I’m going to do about Bridge.’ Liz leaned across and clasped Josie’s hand. ‘Please?’
A great yearning opened up inside her. ‘Well...if it’s OK with Kent.’
Liz sat back and beamed. ‘It’ll be OK with Kent.’
‘What’ll be OK with me?’ Kent said, sauntering into the cabin and pulling off his hat.
‘If Josie changes her mind and stays on here after all.’
He swung around. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
She nodded, unable for the moment to speak. But she kept her gaze on his face. She couldn’t have watched him any closer if she’d put him under a microscope, but no scowls, not even a fraction of a frown, appeared. His eyes didn’t narrow, his shoulders didn’t freeze into place and his mouth didn’t tighten. In fact, he literally beamed at her.
‘It’s more than OK. It’s great.’
It was?
‘That is smelling seriously good.’ He nodded towards the oven. ‘How long—?’
‘Long enough for you to go ring Josie’s brothers and tell them she’s staying on after all.’