Chapter Four #2
“This was a lot more than that.” She swallowed. The threat of tears had faded. “But you’re right about one thing. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” A grim smile twisted her lips. “You, I guess I mean. There wasn’t anyone else involved.”
“Then if I’m willing to forget it ever happened, why aren’t you?”
Because her life had never been that simple or easy. Situations were always complicated for her. But maybe this time it was different, she thought and wished it could be true.
“I suppose I think I should be punished or something,” she said.
“You’re stuck in bed after knee surgery and you nearly died in a fire. How’s that for punishment?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Consider the idea and then let it all go. We’ll start fresh. Hi, Cathy, my name is Stone Ward. Tell me about yourself.”
She plucked at the comforter cover. “There’s nothing to tell. That’s why I made up the stories. The real Cathy Eldridge is pretty boring.”
“I think she’s bright and funny. Tell me about your family. The hospital said they couldn’t get in touch with any-one.”
He was trying to make her feel better. Cathy believed that with all her heart.
But he was heading in the wrong direction.
This line of conversation was even more distressing than the memories of her lies.
Then she reminded herself it had been a long time.
The past was behind her and had therefore lost its power to hurt her.
“I don’t have any family,” she said. “My father is gone. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. He took off when I was a baby. My mother never said anything about him. I don’t even know where he’s from. Mom was an orphan. There was always just the two of us. She—”
Cathy paused. How was she supposed to sum up her life in a couple of witty sentences?
“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Stone told her.
“No, it’s fine. She drank a lot. I took care of her.
When she was sober, she was great and that’s how I try to remember her.
But I never knew what she was going to be like, so when I was growing up, I didn’t get close to a lot of people.
Kids would want to come visit me at home, and I couldn’t take the chance. ”
“That sounds lonely.”
“It was.” She shrugged. “I adjusted. I guess I’ve always been a loner.”
“Then we have that in common.”
Cathy stared at him, at the shape of him, and wondered why Stone chose to live like this—so cut off from the rest of the world. He could fit in anywhere. Even if the scars were bad, people would understand. Friends would.
“I used to have a lot of dreams,” she confessed. “About what would happen when I was finally on my own. I had this vision of a wonderful life. Sort of like the one I made up for you.”
“You could still make that happen.”
Cathy thought about her job at the answering service.
It didn’t pay very much, and she didn’t have any skills to get another job.
She’d once thought about college, but instead of heading off to higher education with the rest of her highschool graduating class, she’d stayed home to take care of her mother.
The alcohol had taken its time to ravage the older woman’s body—she’d spent nearly two years trying to die.
“In theory those dreams could come true,” Cathy said. “But it’s been so long now. I’ve forgotten most of them, and it doesn’t really matter anymore.”
“I disagree.”
She knew from past experience there was no point in arguing with him. “What about your dreams?” she asked. “What do you want?”
“I have everything I need,” he told her.
She wanted to point out that want and need were not the same thing at all, but she didn’t think that was her place.
Silence stretched out between them, but it was comfortable.
She liked hearing his voice like this. He sounded a little different than he did over the phone.
Plus she could see him—sort of. At least the outline of him, the way his body moved when he talked.
With him in the room, she didn’t feel so alone.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked. “Tell me the truth this time.”
“I told you the truth before. I brought you here because I care about you. Over the past couple of years, we’ve become friends.
I don’t have many of those in my life and I treasure the ones I’ve made.
I want you to get better and selfishly I brought you here to make sure that happened. Does that answer your question?”
It did, but it also raised a hundred more.
Stone said he thought of her as a friend.
Cathy didn’t know what other explanation there was.
She’d tried to think of another motive. He could have easily hung up during the fire and not given her another thought.
Or he could have visited in the hospital, done his duty as a client of the service, then let her be.
But he hadn’t. Maybe she should just stop asking and believe him.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome. Now close your eyes.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He chuckled. “Come on. You can trust me.”
“I—” Cathy stared at him, but it was a futile effort. She couldn’t see much of anything. “All right.”
Was he going to turn on the light? Did he want to look at her without her being able to see him?
She sensed movement in the room, then his presence by the bed.
“Keep them closed,” he instructed.
His hand gently squeezed hers, then something soft and warm brushed against her cheek. “Sleep well, Cathy. I’ll come see you again tomorrow.”
And then he was gone. Cathy slowly opened her eyes. Without meaning to, she pressed her fingertips to the place he’d kissed her. She told herself it had been a brief peck, a meaningless gesture between friends. It couldn’t be anything more.
Even so, she was smiling as she sank down into the pillows and as she closed her eyes again, she relived the moment over and over until she dropped off to sleep.
* * *
Stone walked over to the window in his office and stared at the darkness. The house felt more welcoming tonight, and he knew the reason slept up one floor, at the end of the opposite wing.
Cathy. Her presence here was nearly enough to banish the ghosts, even as she, in some ways, echoed them.
She was nothing like Evelyn. Not in appearance or temperament or even circumstances, save the fact that they’d both grown up in families that barely made ends meet. And yet they were so alike.
He drew in a deep breath and promised himself that this time would be different This time he wouldn’t make the same mistakes.
This time he would be aware of what was going on.
He could help Cathy in ways he’d never been able to help Evelyn.
He could fix her life. In some small way, that might atone for the sins of the past. Maybe if he got it right this time, some of the pain would fade away.
Without wanting to, barely aware of the action, he rubbed his fingertips against the scars on the left side of his face.
This time he wouldn’t get involved, he told himself. This time he wouldn’t care too much. He liked Cathy. Friendship was safe—nothing else was permissible. He would ensure that they maintained the relationship they’d already established and nothing more.
When she was healed, on the inside, as well as from her injuries, he would let her go. She would walk away stronger because of him, and maybe then he would be left in peace.
* * *
Cathy was awake early the next morning. She managed to get to the bathroom and back, although the short trip took about twenty minutes.
“I wish I’d studied dance or something,” she muttered as she sat down on the bed and tried to catch her breath. “Or even a beginning class in 101 ways to use crutches.”
She was many things, but she’d never been graceful or even athletic. The crutches hurt her arms and shoulders, and she still didn’t have the hang of them. If she tried anything complex, like stairs or even a long hallway, she was afraid she was going to fall flat on her face.
She managed to lean them against the wall between the nightstand and the headboard, then she pushed herself back onto the bed so she could swing her legs up onto the mattress.
Her nightgown hitched up, exposing pale thighs.
Cathy stared at the slightly lumpy skin.
All her life she’d been wrestling with the same twenty pounds.
Unfortunately she had a feeling that in the past couple of months those pounds had been breeding and now it was more like twenty-five.
With all this forced inactivity, the situation was only going to get worse.
Her stomach growled. Great. Now she was hungry.
She wished she were the swearing kind, although she’d never understood how saying certain words was supposed to relieve emotional tension.
There was nothing to be done but for her to get through the situation.
When she was back home, she was going on a diet for sure.
She would even start exercising. Nothing complicated—just walking.
The promise was as old as it was familiar.
Cathy pulled up the covers and fought against the accompanying sense of failure.
So many lost opportunities, she thought grimly.
How many times had she vowed she wasn’t going to eat another bite of chocolate until she’d lost a few pounds?
How many times had she sworn to herself that she was going to get into shape, only to spend her days reading?
A knock at the door interrupted her pity party, and she was grateful. For a split second, her heart jumped at the thought it might be Stone. Then she remembered that he didn’t want her seeing him, so it was unlikely he would show up in the morning, when light spilled into her room.
“Come in,” she called.
Ula, the housekeeper, opened the door and stepped inside her room. “Good morning,” the older woman said. She was petite, with graying hair pulled back into a sensible bun, and dark eyes.
“How did you sleep?” Ula asked.
“Great. My leg didn’t bother me much at all.”
The older woman nodded. Her pale gray dress wasn’t exactly a uniform, but it didn’t look like a fashion statement, either.
Cathy shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She wasn’t sure if the housekeeper was simply restrained in her manner, or if she resented Cathy’s presence.
Maybe she thought Cathy was a leech or a charity case.
Cathy grimaced. While she didn’t consider herself the former, she might definitely be thought of as the latter.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat,” Ula said. Her stern expression softened. “If you would tell me your preferences, I would be happy to prepare them. Mr. Ward isn’t one who pays attention to his food. I don’t think he notices anything I feed him.”
Cathy thought about the outline of Stone’s body. He’d looked lean in the darkness. Ula was slight, too. Great. Here she was waddling through the land of gazelles.
What did she want? Chocolate. About three pounds. That should see her through.
Stop it! she ordered herself. It was time to let go of the excuses and actually do something. This was a perfect opportunity. For the next few days, she wouldn’t be able to prepare her own food, let alone shop. Why not get a jump start on the program she wanted to begin when she got home?
She cleared her throat and felt a flush stain her cheeks. “Would it be too much trouble to have you make some low-fat foods?” Cathy asked in a rush. “Nothing complicated. Maybe some grilled chicken or fish. If it’s too much work, I’ll understand.”
“Not at all,” Ula said smoothly. “I have several interesting recipes.” Her gaze swept over Cathy. “You want to lose some weight?”
It was the obvious question. Cathy nodded.
“I can do that.” The older woman hesitated. “It’s not my business, but you might want to ask the physical therapist about an exercise program. Perhaps there’s something aerobic you can do while your leg is healing.”
Cathy hadn’t thought of that. “What a great idea. I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Ula offered her a slight smile.
Cathy gathered her courage. “I don’t know what Stone told you about me,” she began, then paused, hoping Ula would fill in the blank.
The housekeeper didn’t, so Cathy plunged on.
“Well, we’re just friends. I’ve known him for about two years.
Not in person, of course. I know he doesn’t go out much.
But over the phone. He used the answering service I worked for, and we talked most evenings.
” She cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure why she was explaining herself to the housekeeper; she just didn’t think she could bear to live here if Ula didn’t approve. Silly, but true.
“Anyway, I was on the phone with Stone when the fire broke out in the building where I work. He was concerned enough to come to the hospital and check on me. Then he brought me here. I don’t want you to think that I’m going to make trouble or anything.
I’m not. We’re just…that is, I’m not very important to him. I understand that.”
Ula’s expression didn’t change. “Thank you for explaining,” she said. “It was unnecessary, but very kind of you. Mr. Ward had said you were a friend of his, and as such, you are welcome in his home. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
She turned to leave, then paused in the doorway. “Perhaps later I’ll bring by a list of recipes I can try and we can discuss which ones interest you the most.”
As overtures went, it wasn’t a huge one, but Cathy didn’t think she was much in a position to complain. She smiled. “I would like that,” she said. “Thanks.”
This time the housekeeper did leave, but when she was gone, Cathy didn’t feel quite so alone.