Chapter Five #2
Even though the darkened glass prevented anyone from seeing into the room, after a few minutes he stepped back.
He’d wanted to check on Cathy’s progress, nothing else.
The physical therapist had been as competent as he’d been promised.
So now he could forget about his houseguest and go about his business.
Everything was on schedule. He was helping Cathy get better.
He would fix her—both physically and in any other way she required.
That was his goal. To improve her lot in life, to atone.
Yet as he focused on the computer screen in front of him, he found himself thinking about Cathy instead of balance sheets.
He found himself eager for the darkness so that he could again spend time with her.
As he had a thousand times since the car accident three years before, he cursed the day and the light it brought.
* * *
Cathy stared longingly at the tray next to her bed.
She’d demolished her dinner in less than ten minutes.
The fish had been perfectly cooked in a delectable sauce.
Sautéed mushrooms had been added to the rice; even the vegetables had been delicious.
The small plate of cut-up fruit with a single scoop of frozen yogurt had been a very nice surprise for dessert.
The only problem was, she was starving. She would have sold her soul for fast food, or even real, fat-filled chocolate.
If there had been a way to hobble to a local store for a quick fix, she would have done it.
However, she was well and truly trapped.
She might as well have been at a spa in the middle of the desert.
Maybe that’s how they were so successful.
It wasn’t anything more than physically keeping clients away from the food they loved.
Cathy sighed softly and leaned back against the pillows.
She wasn’t really hungry, she told herself.
She’d just had dinner. Maybe she should have eaten more slowly so that her brain would have had time to register the food sitting in her stomach.
At least that’s what all the magazine articles said.
Or if that wasn’t it, then it was just psychological.
While she was physically full, she wanted the rich, fattening foods to provide emotional comfort.
She needed something with which to distract herself.
In time she would get used to eating less. The results would be worth it.
Cathy stared down at herself, wondering if she’d lost any weight yet.
It had been a whole day, and she hadn’t cheated once.
In her mind, weight loss should be a function of sincerity rather than calories.
In this case, she was very, very sincere.
Surely that would count for at least a five-pound weight loss.
The phone on her nightstand rang. She jumped slightly and stared at the instrument. She hadn’t heard it ring before. Yet Stone must get calls. No doubt he had several lines for business. Maybe this was the house line.
The phone rang four more times. She ignored it and picked up the television guide Ula had brought her. Maybe there was a good movie on tonight. Or something scary. If she was worried about being attacked by aliens or vampires, maybe she wouldn’t think about food.
She flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything that looked interesting. She’d just tossed the magazine aside when someone knocked at her door. She glanced up as the housekeeper entered the room.
“How was dinner?” the older woman asked.
“Great. I didn’t think I liked fish, but whatever you made was terrific.”
Ula took the empty tray and smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed your food. I had a good time finding the recipes. We’ll try something with chicken tomorrow.”
It was nearly seven in the evening, yet the housekeeper looked as fresh and alert as she had first thing in the morning.
Every hair was in place, and there wasn’t a wrinkle in her pale gray dress.
Who was this woman? Did she live here? Cathy opened her mouth to ask, then closed it.
Ula’s living arrangements weren’t her business.
The older woman was just starting to warm up to her.
Cathy didn’t want to risk shutting her down by asking personal questions.
“Your phone rang a few minutes ago,” Ula said. “Were you in the rest room?”
Cathy blinked. “This extension rang, but I didn’t think it was for me.”
“It was. Mr. Ward wanted to check on you. I told him you probably didn’t realize the guest room had a dedicated line. If this phone rings, feel free to answer it.”
“Stone called?” she repeated. “Did he leave the house?”
Ula headed for the door. “Not at all. He rarely leaves. He’s in his office. I’ll let him know that it’s all right for him to call back.”
“Please,” Cathy told her, then took a breath. “Ula, is Stone all right?”
The housekeeper paused and looked at her. “What do you mean?” The smile had faded, no doubt because in her opinion, Cathy had overstepped her bounds.
“He told me about the scars on his face. I mean, they’re why he doesn’t go out much and…” Her voice trailed off. What was the old saying? In for a penny? She might as well finish. “Is there anything else? Any other lasting effects? Physical ones, I mean, from the accident.”
“Oh.” Ula shook her head. “He’s fine. There are just the scars.”
Cathy wanted to ask how bad they were, but she couldn’t think of a way to politely phrase it and she wasn’t comfortable enough to just blurt out the question.
“He was injured in the same car accident that killed his wife, wasn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Okay, so Ula wasn’t going to offer information. At least she was answering questions.
Cathy cleared her throat. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “He’s kept to himself all this time. He must have loved her very much.”
“Miss Evelyn meant the world to him,” Ula confirmed. Her expression softened, as if she were lost in pleasant memories. “They’d known each other since they were children. She was his best friend. I don’t think he’ll ever recover from losing her.” She paused. “Will you be needing anything else?”
Cathy’s throat had closed, and she could barely speak. “Thank you, no,” she managed to answer through the pain and disappointment.
Ula gave her another smile. This one nearly reached her dark eyes. Obviously they’d bonded over the sharing of Stone’s tragic past. “Then good night.”
“Night, Ula.”
The door closed, and Cathy was alone with her whirling thoughts.
It was her own fault for asking, she told herself.
If she hadn’t wanted to know about Stone’s relationship with his late wife, then she should have kept quiet.
What had she hoped to hear? That Stone had hated his wife?
That it had been a marriage of convenience and he was glad she was dead?
Not likely. And if that were true, he wouldn’t be someone she would want to know.
Stone was more honorable than that. But still, to learn that he’d loved Evelyn so much he hadn’t recovered from her death was not how she wanted to start her evening.
Cathy stared at the ceiling. She wondered what it would be like to care about someone that much.
To love and be loved in return. She had no frame of reference, no experience with that.
She’d wanted to love someone, but men were not a part of her world.
She didn’t know where one went to meet them.
Even if she did, she wouldn’t go there. Aside from the fact that she couldn’t start a conversation with a strange man even if her life depended on it, she wasn’t the kind of woman who attracted men.
She wasn’t pretty or especially fun. She didn’t have a sparkling personality.
She was just average. Her meager life wouldn’t impress anyone.
She forced her mind away from that train of thought.
Why had she asked? She’d known better, but she’d done it anyway.
Just to round off the evening, she’d missed Stone’s call.
She hated that she hadn’t known to pick up, although it was a little strange to think that he’d phoned when he’d only been at the other end of the house.
She flopped back against her pillows and shifted her gaze to the blank television screen.
Now what? The evening stretched out in front of her.
She refused to spend it thinking about what Ula had told her.
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to be happy and feel good about herself.
While there hadn’t been anything that looked interesting on TV, maybe she could flip channels until something caught her eye.
A sitcom or a funny movie. Or she could—
The phone rang again. Cathy snatched at the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
The familiar voice sent a ribbon of pleasure all the way to her toes.
She forgot about being hungry, or how much her knee hurt, or even the stiffness in her body from the armchair exercises she’d done that afternoon.
She forgot about the things Ula had told her and how much she wondered about Stone’s late wife. She even forgot she was alone.
“Better,” she breathed, knowing he would think she was talking about her injuries, while what she meant was how she felt now that she’d heard his voice.
“I’m glad. Your physical therapy went well?”
“Uh-huh. Pepper is nice and she knows what she’s doing. She told me my crutches weren’t adjusted correctly and she fixed them. It’s made a big difference in my being able to move around the house.”
“She came highly recommended. I’m glad she helped. How was the rest of your day?”