Chapter Six #2
His gaze narrowed, his eyes avoiding hers. “As far as I’m concerned this whole thing happened because of Jill, but we’ll talk
about it later. Right now let’s concentrate on getting you well.”
“But, Quinn,” she pleaded.
Long fingers covered her lips. “No buts. Do you feel strong enough to take a bath?”
Meggie nodded eagerly.
“I’ll run the water. You can bathe alone but I insist you leave the door unlocked in case you need me.” The alarm must have
shown in her eyes. “I’m not going to come rushing in unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’ll have to trust me, Meggie.”
She glanced longingly toward the bathroom and shrugged, lifting her palms in a gesture of defeat. What else was there to do
but trust him?
Crow’s-feet crinkled the laugh lines about his eyes. “You want me to add bath salts or any of that other stuff you women like?”
Meggie flushed and Quinn laughed. Gently he guided her into the bathroom and set her on the seat while he prepared the water,
adding the scented salts.
There was never a bath Meggie had enjoyed more. True, she felt weak and shaky, but she lay back luxuriating in the feel of
water against her aching muscles. She felt like she’d just completed running a marathon and was sore in spots she barely knew
existed.
After combing her hair and brushing her teeth she felt like a new woman. Quinn was changing the sheets on her bed when she
entered the bedroom. Meggie paused, leaning against the door frame, watching him as he worked.
“You’d make a wonderful maid,” she teased, her voice low and slightly husky.
Quinn swiveled around, his head tilted mockingly. “I should have known you wouldn’t let this pass without comment.” He lifted
back the covers for her. “Now come to bed like a good girl.” He fluffed up the pillows. As soon as she was tucked in, Quinn
sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got to get ready for work. Will you be all right by yourself?”
She reassured him with a warm smile and a slight shake of her head.
A masculine hand slid beneath the long hair at the back of her neck, pressing her forward into the wall of his chest. He held
her to him as if she was the most precious, the most delicate being in all the world. The fingers of one hand gently massaged
her back while the other entwined with her hair.
Meggie closed her eyes to the heady delight of being in his embrace. Her heart seemed to beat in a gentle drumroll and she
wondered fleetingly if he could hear and feel what his touch did to her.
His breath stirred the hair at the side of her face. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” The gentle concern in his voice nearly
stopped her heart.
“Don’t worry about me.”
Again he ran his hand down the length of her hair, letting it rest on the gentle curve of her shoulder. “I can’t help but
be concerned. At least I had sense enough to check on you when I didn’t see you two mornings in a row.” He paused as if lost
in some private hell.
“Quinn?” Her hand reached for his.
He gave a short shake of his head. “I’ll be back at lunchtime. Rest until then. Understood?”
“Yes, doctor,” she murmured teasingly. “Can we talk about Jill then?”
He regarded her seriously, then nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
She wasn’t tired and the morning passed slowly. Now that she was taking the antibiotics, her throat had quit hurting, the
fever had broken and she felt almost human again. Several times she thought about getting dressed, but didn’t want to push
things; she was still incredibly weak.
As promised, Quinn returned about noon, carrying a sack with a restaurant’s name printed on the front.
“Hi.” The greeting was made in a small voice as Meggie sat up in bed. She’d washed and styled her hair and felt reasonably
attractive for him. “I hope something’s in there for me. I’m starved.”
Playfully, he placed the bag behind his back. “Not on your life, sister. This is my lunch.”
Meggie widened her eyes dramatically. “I can read the headlines now: ‘Defenseless Woman Starves under Inspector’s Care.’”
Lowering his frame onto the chair beside the bed, Quinn sighed. “In that case, I’d best share.” Meggie had expected hamburgers,
but Quinn brought out two large styrofoam cups and plastic spoons and handed one of each to her. “A cook friend of mine made
the soup. I told him you were sick and he insisted this will cure anything.” He took off the protective plastic cover and
dipped the spoon inside.
The aroma of noodles and chicken swamped her senses and Meggie breathed in appreciatively. Quinn waited until she’d taken
her mouthful before commenting.
“Good?”
Meggie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Nectar from the gods.”
“I thought you Christians professed belief in only one God,” he remarked drily.
Meggie stopped, the spoon lifted halfway to her mouth. “I do . . . that’s only an expression.”
His hand gave her leg a gentle squeeze. “I was only teasing.”
Meggie lowered her gaze, chagrined. She was being overly defensive. Christ and her faith in Him were the most important things
in her life. It was vital that Quinn share this faith if their relationship was to develop into something deep and permanent.
The soup was only half gone when Meggie set it aside, unable to eat any more.
“Done?” Quinn looked surprised.
Meggie shook her head and leaned against the pillow. “Would it be possible for me to talk to Jill soon?” she asked. “I’m not
going to feel right until I’ve apologized.”
Quinn’s eyes darkened. “What do you have to apologize for? Jill was up to her tricks again, lying through her teeth. You don’t owe her a thing.”
Staring back at him with sad, disbelieving eyes, Meggie reached for his hand. “It wasn’t all lies. I guess I owe you both
an apology,” she admitted humbly. “You’ve been so concerned about the caller that’s been pestering me and I’ve been handing
out my phone number every time I write a check without even thinking about it. Jill was telling you the truth when she said
I’d given my number to Ken, but certainly not for personal reasons. I’m not likely to date him when there’s someone else I
care about.” She hadn’t meant to admit quite that much and quickly averted her eyes.
“That guy from Los Angeles,” he growled, his mouth thinning with impatience while he made busy work of placing the leftovers
in the sack.
Meggie’s hand stopped his action, her eyes searching his. Could it possibly be he didn’t know? Never had anyone been able
to create such a response within her. Quinn had attracted her even before they met. Meggie had never been the flirting type;
she was incapable of being anything but open and honest about her feelings.
“It’s you, Quinn, you must know that,” she said softly.
The words held him motionless. “Me?” he drawled the question. Amazement flickered fleetingly across his face. “You care about
me?” he questioned as if it was a ridiculous conjecture. “Listen, kid, don’t waste your time on me, you’d be better off marrying
the boyfriend you left behind.” He stood, towering above her, his voice clipped and abrupt. “I was only being neighborly.
I didn’t mean for you to take any of this seriously.”
The harshness in his voice was like daggers piercing her heart. Why did she have to be so ingenuous and unsophisticated? Quinn
wasn’t interested in her devotion; it embarrassed him. He had only been kind to her out of a sense of duty because of Jill.
She had read so much more into it.
Meggie turned her face toward the wall, her lips trembling. “Thanks for lunch,” she said, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t
see Quinn but she sensed his hesitancy. His piercing gaze seemed to reach out and touch her. Although her face was averted,
she closed her eyes, refusing to allow him to see any of her pain.
“I’ll be back tonight,” he said after a while, his voice regretful, gentle.
Meggie wanted to tell him not to bother, she didn’t need him anymore, but was afraid if she spoke her voice might crack and
she’d make a bigger fool of herself.
For a long time after he’d gone, Meggie stared at the blank wall, her thoughts confused. Quinn was capable of very deep feelings.
She had hoped, almost desperately, that he could come to care for her. A tear slipped from thick lashes; Meggie wiped it away
with a sense of pride. She wouldn’t mention her feelings again. The next move would have to come from him.
A nap took up a portion of the afternoon. A noise woke her and Meggie opened her eyes to find Jill standing uncomfortably
in the bedroom doorway. The young forehead was creased in apprehension.
“Hi, Meggie,” she said tightly, her fists doubled at her sides. “Dad said you were real sick and wanted to talk to me.”
Meggie struggled to a sitting position and yawned. “I’m not on my deathbed, Jill, relax.”
“Are you still real sick? I mean I could come back later if you wanted me to.” The girl looked so ill at ease that Meggie
couldn’t avoid smiling.
“I’m fine,” she assured the girl. “Come over and sit by me,” she said, patting the edge of the bed.
Jill crossed the room with the eagerness of a condemned man and sat in the chair instead. Her folded hands rested on her lap
like a model student.
“I’m pleased you could come, Jill. I wanted to talk to you and apologize.”
“Apologize?” Jill repeated disbelievingly.
“I lost my temper. I’m sorry I pulled the curlers out of your hair; that must have hurt. If you give me another chance we
could do the perm again.”
“But I told Dad those things about you. You should have been angry with me and when I said I hated you . . . you said you’d
always like me.” Her eyes didn’t quite meet Meggie’s. She blinked, lowering her gaze.
“Perhaps I had a right to get angry, but there was certainly a better way of handling the situation.”
Eyes as round as saucers set in a pale face stared down at the bed covers. It was so unusual to see Jill subdued that Meggie
risked another statement.
“I had trouble with my temper like you have trouble telling lies.”