To Be a Family (Harlequin Superromance) (10 page)

It brought back the days when John sat beside her hospital
bed.

Until the day when he didn’t.

A three-quarter moon rose above the trees, shedding silvery
light across the path. Up in the barn, cows lowed during milking. John hadn’t
yet said,
I told you so.
His reticence made her
tense. She waited for the scolding she was sure he was just dying to issue. His
breath next to her ear, the swish of his boots through the grass, sounded
overloud.

“Accidents happen all the time,” she said defensively. “I could
have tripped over a tree root in the backyard. I could have fallen off my bike
riding into the village.”

“True. You could have been hit by a bus crossing the street. Or
killed by a meteor chunk falling from outer space.” John adjusted his grip
again. His fingers splayed across her ribs; his other hand held her thigh.

She was being childish about not touching him. Giving up, she
reached her arms around his neck. Her fingertips missed his collar and landed on
warm, bare skin with the beat of his pulse. She moved her fingers back to the
cloth. “Exactly my point.”

“No, you’ve missed the point completely. Those things are out
of your control. This wasn’t.”

“The universe is random.”

“You
chose
to go it alone. You
didn’t need to do that. I should have been with you,” he said. “I should have
insisted.”

Now she understood. He was angry at himself, not her. If
anything, that was worse. “You’re not responsible for my well-being. It was my
choice to make. I’m an independent person.”

“When others care about you, when others rely on you to be
there, it’s not fair to make unilateral decisions.”

She was silent, not wanting to go there. He wasn’t talking
about her ankle. They’d had this conversation before, when she had cancer. There
was no resolution to it. Should the situation arise again, she would make the
same choices.

Finally they came to the gate. It was only a few more steps to
John’s vehicle. He deposited her gently on the ground, keeping his arm around
her. “Don’t put any weight on that foot. Lean on me.”

Katie held his arm lightly, but only to keep her balance. She’d
learned long ago not to lean on John. She wasn’t going to start now.

* * *

“H
OW
ARE
YOU
doing back there?” John glanced at Katie in the rearview mirror.

Vineyards were silhouetted against the red glow of the setting
sun as he drove down the winding road out of Red Hill to the flat coastal
plain.

“I’m fine.” Katie was slumped in a corner, her injured leg
stretched out along the backseat, a chemical ice pack from his first-aid kit on
her ankle.

In the glare of oncoming headlights he glimpsed Katie’s face in
flashes, her mouth tight, eyes closed. She wasn’t fine.

Frustrated by the slow-moving traffic of day-trippers returning
to Melbourne, John slapped a flashing blue light on the roof and put his foot on
the accelerator. With the siren wailing he bullied his way through traffic. What
good was being in charge if you couldn’t take care of your friends?

Ten minutes later he pulled into the circular driveway at
Emergency. He jogged for a wheelchair parked outside the big sliding doors. When
he got back Katie had the car door open. He helped her into the chair and tucked
his jacket around her.

“Just drop me off,” Katie said. “I could be here for hours and
you probably have to get back to Tuti.”

“My mother’s looking after her. I called and told her not to
expect me for a while.” John grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and pushed
toward the entrance. “I’m not going to leave you alone in the hospital.”

“Why not?” she muttered. “You did once before.”

His fists tightened on the rubber grips but he pretended not to
hear. That was her pain talking. “I know the head nurse in Triage. You’ll be
given five-star treatment.”

“Is she one of your ex-girlfriends?”

“Yeah, that’s right. One of my many ex-girlfriends who still
adores me and would do anything for me. Even give priority to a brat like
you.”

In actual fact, the head Triage nurse was a friend of his
mother’s who’d known him since he was a small boy. He just hoped she was on duty
tonight.

In Emergency a young man of about twenty clutched a bloody
bandage around his forearm. Stab wound, most likely. On a gurney next to the
wall an inebriated teenage girl waited to have her stomach pumped. John had
spent many a Friday and Saturday night here as a beat cop, years ago. He’d seen
it all.

But his worst memories involved Katie receiving chemotherapy to
shrink the tumor. She must hate this place even worse than he did.

Eileen West was on duty behind the glass cage in Admitting. Her
frizzy black hair was threaded with gray but her smile lit when she saw John.
“Hey, handsome. Long time, no see.” She looked over her half-glasses at Katie.
“What have we got here?”

“Suspected broken ankle. Definite pain in the ass.”

“Hey!” Katie twisted in the chair to glare up at him.

“How long is the wait?” John asked Eileen. “And can we get a
fresh ice pack in the meantime?”

Eileen consulted her book. “Triage will see her in about ten
minutes. She should be able to go straight into X-ray. I’ll get you an ice pack.
Have a seat.”

John pushed Katie’s wheelchair to the end of a row of chairs
and adjusted the leg rest so her foot was elevated. He took a seat next to her.
Across the aisle a mother cradled a feverish toddler in her arms.

“You take me to the nicest places,” Katie murmured.

“I know you hate hospitals. Which is why I’m putting up with
your bad behavior. Tuti didn’t whine this much when she fell and skinned her
knee.”

Eileen arrived with an ice pack. John took it from her, removed
the old one and carefully wrapped the new one over Katie’s swollen ankle.

She watched him with a scowl. “Come on, say it. Say, I told you
so.”

He figured she was angry with herself so she was taking it out
on him. She would push and prod until he said it, just so she could be right.
Too bad. He felt like being perverse. “I don’t need to say it. You’re not
stupid. You know the score.”

“You’re thinking it, though, admit it.”

With her ice pack securely in place he took the chair opposite.
Smiling blandly, he slowly shook his head.

“Now you’re teasing me.” She stabbed a finger at him. “You
promised not to do that.”

“You’re in a contrary mood,” he said mildly. “No matter what I
do, I can’t win so I’m not even going to try. But now that you mention it—”

“I knew it.” Triumph flashed across her face. “Knew you
couldn’t resist.”

“Next time you do something risky, take a friend along.”

“I was fine on my own. I just need to get better at mountain
biking.”

“I would have come with you if you’d waited a day. Why are you
so determined not to need anyone?”

“I’ve learned through experience to rely on myself.”

His smile faded. Even though they’d become friends again she
still didn’t trust him. That hurt. “You know I care about you. Even when you
piss me off.”

“If you cared so much—” She glanced away.

He wouldn’t have left her when she was critically ill.

Nope, he wasn’t going to go there. Not now. Not when she was
tired, injured and in pain. That was no basis for a rational discussion. They’d
never seen eye to eye on the issue of her health. And right now, she just wanted
a reason to be mad at him. She wanted to push him away. Well, it was
working.

“I’m going to get a coffee. Do you want one?”

“No, thank you.”

John went over to the vending machines and pushed coins into
the slot for a hot drink he didn’t want. Yes, he’d left her behind. But not
because he didn’t care, or because he was a coward, as she seemed to think. He
wished they’d had it out back then even if it meant saying things they
regretted. Better than regretting words left unsaid.

He’d never told her, or anyone, his reason for leaving. In
hindsight it seemed dumb, even egotistical. He’d thought if he took himself out
of the equation, if she wasn’t trying to keep herself whole for him, then she
would have the mastectomy. He’d loved her so much he was willing to risk their
relationship to save her life. He’d gambled and lost.

He hadn’t even told Riley his rationale, because Riley couldn’t
have kept it a secret from his sister. And he definitely couldn’t have told
Katie. His ill-fated scheme wouldn’t have had a chance of working if she’d known
why he was leaving. But she hadn’t reacted the way he’d hoped. Even after he’d
left she’d stubbornly refused to have the operation. Later, when he’d come home,
she’d banished him from her life. He’d tried to explain then but she refused to
even talk to him, much less listen.

He sipped his coffee by the machine, keeping his eye on her.
Seated in the wheelchair with her leg up, fighting fatigue and pain, she looked
vulnerable but defiant. He’d always admired her spirit. She saw herself as a
scaredy-cat but she was stronger than she knew. She’d proved that by staring
cancer down without flinching. That was the annoying and endearing thing about
her—she did the wrong thing for the right reasons. Or was it the right thing for
the wrong reasons? Whatever. Deep inside she was at odds with herself. But she
couldn’t see it.

A nurse with a clipboard appeared at Katie’s side. “Katie
Henning? I’m here to take you to Radiology.”

John walked back.

“Thanks,” Katie said to him. “You can go. I’m sure you want to
get Tuti and go home.”

“No, I’ll stay.”

“Please don’t. I’ll phone my father to come pick me up after
I’ve had the X-ray.”

“Ready?” The nurse spun the chair toward a broad corridor and a
pair of swing double doors.

No doubt Katie expected him to leave. She didn’t believe she
could count on him for anything. Which only went to show how little
she
knew
him
. He settled
in a chair and sipped his coffee. When it came to Katie he’d had a lot of
practice waiting.

* * *

T
WO
HOURS
LATER
Katie returned
through the double doors to the waiting room, an orderly pushing her wheelchair.
Her foot was encased in a boot cast. The crutches she’d rented from the hospital
rested across her legs.

She was about to ask the orderly to take her outside so she
could phone her father. And then she saw John. He was slumped in the hard
plastic chair, eyes closed, hands clasped across his chest. His blond hair was
rumpled and his jaw bristled with golden stubble. He appeared to be dozing.

She’d been so sure he would leave after the bitchy way she’d
treated him. But he hadn’t. Her throat tightened. For a moment she thought she
would cry. She knew she was just emotional because she was tired and aching and
cranky. But deep inside something in her let go, as if a band around her chest
had eased slightly. He hadn’t deserved the way she’d treated him earlier.

It hit her then. Deep down she’d been hoping he would prove he
cared by waiting for her. Prove what he hadn’t proved seven years ago.

She blinked, trying to push away her emotion.

Was she an idiot to still hope that he loved her with the
unconditional love she longed for, the kind her parents had had? Him staying for
a couple of hours in Emergency didn’t prove anything. It was too damn little,
too damn late.

“Over there, please,” she told the orderly, directing him
toward John. He parked her at the end of the row and left.

In sleep, John’s closed eyelids looked vulnerable, his firm
mouth younger and softer, almost as if they’d gone back in time.... She couldn’t
resist lightly stroking his forearm, warm skin covered in blond hair. “Hey,” she
said softly, then removed her hand before he woke up.

John’s eyes blinked open, startlingly blue, instantly alert. He
glanced down at her foot. “Not broken then?”

“Just a bad sprain.” She grimaced. “I tore a ligament.”

“Come on. I’ll take you home.” He started to get up.

She touched his arm again and this time she left her hand
there. “Thanks for waiting. And for everything.”

He covered her hand with his own. “It’s no big deal.”

“Still. I appreciate it.” Her hand felt warm and secure
sandwiched between his arm and his palm. She didn’t even care that she might be
sending the wrong message. “I’m sorry I was so awful.”

“I’m used to it.”

Through the tossed-off humor Katie heard the grain of truth.
“Seriously, I really appreciate you coming. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything
important.”

“Nothing much.” His thumb stroked her wrist, the rough pad
grazing her pulse.

A tingle traveled up her arm and spread in a warm glow. The
pain relievers must be kicking in, making her giddy. “Tuti must be wondering
where you are.”

“I checked in with my mother. Tuti’s fine.” But he got the
hint. He stood and pushed her wheelchair toward the exit. “Still think your bike
ride was worth it?”

The rush of bouncing down the hill came back to her, overcoming
her fatigue. “I haven’t experienced anything so exciting since we rappelled down
that rock face in the Blue Mountains. It was wonderful. I felt like a kid
again.”

“Really?” There was amusement, and a slightly wistful note, in
his voice, as if he was too world-weary to know what excitement was anymore. But
he wished he did.

“Absolutely. I would do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, I
will do it again. As soon as my ankle heals.”

“Next time, I’m sure you’ll be more careful.”

“Where’s the fun in that? Danger is much more thrilling.”

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

For a moment she wished that were true, that she was his again,
that they would plot their next adventure together, not as a way to keep her
safe but just because that’s what they did.