Cedar Bluff's Most Eligible Bachelor (Cedar Bluff Hospital) (6 page)

Not now.

Not ever.

As he slid behind the wheel and started the car, Simon did his best to think of Hailey as a patient. She’d latched her seat belt, he saw with approval, but had leaned back against the headrest, her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, as he backed out of the parking space. He knew she had the prescription bottle of non-narcotic pain pills tucked in the pocket of her windbreaker.

“Fine,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed.

He could appreciate how exhausted she must be, but he needed to know where to go. “Hailey? What street do you live on?”

She turned her head and cracked one eye open to look at him. “The Rose Glen apartment building, off Howard.”

“Got it,” he said, turning right to head in that direction.

Hailey didn’t move, but her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, so he knew she wasn’t sleeping.

No, not sleeping. More likely, she was fighting the pain. It would take a while for the full effect of the pain medication to work.

He pulled into the parking lot behind the apartment complex, somewhat relieved to notice it was only a two-story building. He was willing to wager, however, that Hailey lived on the second floor.

“I can do it,” she said testily, but in the end she needed his arm to help her get out of the car. He reached for the crutches, offering them to her once she was standing.

“Which apartment?” he asked, pulling her backpack out of the backseat, where Mike, the helpful paramedic, had left it.

“Two-eleven,” she answered, confirming his suspicions she was on the second floor. She swung her crutches forward and took a slow step forward. He stood right beside her, hating how her face went pale as she made her way slowly toward the apartment door.

He was sweating more than she was, just from watching her struggle. Ten times over he had to stop himself from just scooping her into his arms and carrying her in.

“Keys in the front pocket of my backpack,” she said in a strained voice as she came to a halt in front of the main apartment door.

He found the keys, opened the lock and then held the door open for her. Thank God there was an elevator, so he wouldn’t have to helplessly watch her attempt to maneuver the stairs.

When they reached her apartment door, he unlocked and opened it, holding it for her. She went inside, pausing in the tiny foyer.

“Thanks for the ride. I can take it from here,” she said calmly, drumming up the most pathetic excuse for a smile.

Like hell she could. He ignored her, coming inside and closing the door firmly behind them. As he looked around at the inexpensive but neat furniture in the apartment, he asked, “How much food do you have?” Walking further into the room, he looped the strap of the backpack over the edge of a chair. How she managed to go grocery shopping on a bicycle was beyond him. “I’ll run out and get you whatever you need.”

Hailey eased herself onto the sofa with a low groan. He crossed over, helping her to lift her leg onto a pillow, elevating it. “I’m not sure,” she said tiredly. “There’s probably not much in the cupboards. I was planning to go shopping tomorrow.

She was clearly losing steam, not that he could blame her. He reached into her coat pocket and took out the pain pills. “You might need to take another one,” he suggested, settling beside her on the sofa. “You can take two of them every four hours, as needed, and you only took one.”

“Because it was a big horse pill,” she muttered. But when he opened the bottle she held out her hand and took the tablet. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water and brought it back to her. She downed the second pain pill without hesitation.

He figured she’d be out like a light as soon as the second pill was absorbed into her system. And while she was sleeping, he’d take inventory to find out what she needed food-wise so he could shop for her.

But before that there was one question that had been burning in the back of his mind ever since the moment he’d tended to her at the side of the road. Maybe it wasn’t completely fair to ask her now, when she was so clearly not herself, but he needed to know.

“Hailey?” When he sat beside her on the sofa, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he asked, “Who’s Andrew?”

I
N A
heartbeat Hailey’s exhaustion vanished. Every muscle in her body went tense, as she stared at Simon in stunned surprise.

How on earth had he known about Andrew?

Her flashback, she realized slowly. She must have said something to him during the moments at the side of the road when she’d been gripped in the horror of the past. She’d seen Andrew’s face so clearly.

His pale, lifeless face. Streaked with blood.

Quickly she blocked the memory. No, don’t go there. She needed to stay focused on the present.

But how to respond? Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Simon. Not after everything he’d done for her. Without his steadying presence, at the scene of the accident and in the emergency department, she knew the nightmares would have sucked her down into the whirling vortex of blackness that had characterized the last fourteen months.

She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice from betraying her by trembling. “My fiancé.”

Simon’s eyes widened and she noticed he glanced at her ringless finger. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked in a rush. “I didn’t know you were engaged. We need to call Andrew to let him know you’re all right.”

She fought the urge to close her eyes and bury her face in the pillow, avoiding the painful subject. But she’d learned the hard way that hiding your head in the sand didn’t make things go away. Simon wouldn’t let her off the hook that easily. “No. I meant he was my fiancé. Andrew—he died a little over a year ago.”

Fourteen months, to be exact. And she’d spent three of them recovering from the injuries she’d sustained in the accident in which he’d died.

But nothing would ever heal her heart. Or ease her conscience.

The usual sympathy darkened his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Her stomach tightened painfully. She wanted to shout at him not to apologize. Why did everyone keep saying that? She was the reason Andrew was dead. She’d insisted on driving that night.

She didn’t want Simon’s sympathy.

Or anyone else’s.

“I feel sick,” she murmured, changing the subject as she put a hand over her abdomen. She wasn’t lying, she really did feel sick. Throwing up would only make a bad day even worse, so she fought the urge and drew an uneven breath. “Would you mind bringing me a few saltine crackers?”

Instantly, he rose to his feet. “Of course not. Stay put, I’ll find them.”

“Third cabinet on the right,” she murmured as Simon headed for the small kitchen. She took several shaky breaths. He rummaged around for a few minutes, and then returned with water and the promised crackers.

“You don’t have any white soda,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’ll run to the store and pick up a few things.”

“There’s no need,” she began, but he cut her off.

“Don’t argue. I’m going. It’s not like you can live on jail fare,” he said, gesturing to her water and crackers, “for the next few weeks.”

“Rach can pick up some things for me,” she pointed out stubbornly.

He didn’t even look at her or acknowledge her statement. He simply stuck her door keys in his pocket and walked back to the kitchen. From her position on the sofa, she could hear him opening and closing the cupboard doors and her fridge, muttering to himself. Good thing she couldn’t hear what he was saying, because it was no doubt something scathing, considering the bare state of her cabinets.

Old Mother Hubbard, went to the cupboard…

She wasn’t destitute, but she did tend to buy sparingly because she had to lug everything on her bike. Or walk, which was actually much harder. At least on the bike she could cover the distance more quickly.

But she wasn’t about to explain that to Simon.

After a good five minutes he returned, holding a list in his hand. A long list. “I’ll be back in a little while. Take a nap,” he suggested. “The best thing you can do right now is to rest.”

Before she could think of a response, he left her apartment, softly shutting the door behind him.

She scowled at the closed door.

Sure. Take a nap. She grimaced as she tried to move into a more comfortable position. Except she couldn’t find a more comfortable position.

Wearily she closed her eyes and did her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her leg. Why hadn’t she called Rachel for a ride to work that morning? What idiot rode a bike to work in a thunderstorm? Her ridiculous need to remain independent had cost her dearly.

Now she’d be dependent on others for help over the next who-knew-how-long. Two weeks for sure. Hopefully not longer. And as a new employee she didn’t have any sick time to cover the time she’d need off work.

Maybe once she had a walking cast on, she could manage to ride her bike. At least well enough to get to work and home. If the hospital would let her work with her walking cast on.

With a sigh she decided not to worry about that now. First she needed to get through the next two weeks.

Surprisingly, she must have dozed because she awoke to a more intense throbbing in her leg. And the mouth-watering scent of chicken noodle soup.

Dusk had fallen. Her living room faced west, so it was easy to see through the window that the sun had set. She estimated the time must be somewhere close to seven o’clock.

She stretched, working the kinks out of her neck. Had Simon left some soup for her? She propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over to reach for her crutches standing upright against the edge of the end table nearby.

“Hailey, you’re awake?” he asked, coming into the living room and startling her so badly she jerked like an epileptic and knocked the crutches to the floor with a crash.

“Cripes, don’t do that!” she admonished, clutching a hand to her hammering heart. “You scared me to death.”

“Sorry,” Simon said with a grimace. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t think you were sleeping very soundly because you kept muttering in your sleep.”

“I did?” She could feel her face flush. Talk about embarrassing. Although it could be worse. He could have told her she snored.

“Are you ready for more pain medication?” he asked. “It might be helpful to eat some soup first, so that your stomach doesn’t get upset.”

She wasn’t sure which need took higher priority—her mouth watering and stomach growling for the soup or the throbbing in her leg.

“Soup,” she finally decided, leaning over to pick up the fallen crutches from the floor. She narrowed her gaze when he swooped down to snatch the crutches before she could grab them. She sighed. “Look, Simon, I appreciate your help, but you don’t need to stick around any longer. I’ll be fine.”

He stood holding the crutches, and lifted a sardonic brow. “Don’t worry, I haven’t exactly moved in yet,” he said dryly, making her flush all over again. “Relax, all I did was pick up a few groceries and heat up some soup. Why don’t you let me bring it in on a tray, so you don’t have to get up?”

“Because soup would be easier to eat at the kitchen table. I’d prefer not to wear it.” Somehow, she knew that once she got up and moving, she’d prove to Simon once and for all she was fine. And then he would leave.

At least, in theory.

Because surely that crack about moving in was a joke.

Wasn’t it?

Yes, it was. She was losing her mind to think anything else. She gritted her teeth and swallowed a groan as she swung her leg over the edge of the sofa. Simon set the crutches aside and bent over to put his hands around her waist. Before she could squeak out a protest, he lifted her up on her good foot, supporting most of her weight.

She gripped his upper arms, momentarily distracted by the bulging muscles beneath her fingertips. His musky scent filled her head, making her dizzy.

Good heavens, she could stay here with him like this for the rest of the night without needing a single dose of pain medication.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” he murmured, his mouth dangerously close to her ear.

Ready? For what? To fall into his arms? To be swept down the hall to her bedroom?

“I’m—uh—ready,” she said breathlessly, forcing herself to concentrate. She needed to move away. And fast. “You can—uh—hand me the crutches now.”

For what seemed like endless moments neither one of them moved. She held her breath, waiting for what she had no idea, but every nerve in her body was tingling in awareness. The throbbing pain in her leg was nothing compared to the blood rushing through her system.

But then Simon moved one of the hands at her waist to bring over the crutches. He tucked one beneath her arm, and she reluctantly let go of his biceps to grasp the crutch. Then he handed her the second crutch.

When he was sure she was steady on her feet, he backed away. She kept her gaze on trained on the floor as she cautiously swung the crutches forward, moving slowly toward the kitchen.

There was an empty bowl on the table sitting beside the small bottle of pain medication and a fresh package of crackers. As she lowered herself into the chair, Simon filled her bowl from the steaming pot on the stove and set it back down in front of her.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, when she took a sip of the soup.

She nearly scalded her tongue. “No, Simon, this is perfect. Just what I needed. Thanks. For driving me home, shopping and cooking for me.”

A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips. “You’re welcome.”

As much as she wanted him to leave, for her peace of mind more than anything, she gestured to the empty seat at the table beside her. “Please, join me. I’m sure you’re hungry, too.”

He moved as if to do just that, but then stopped abruptly. “Ah, no, thanks. I should probably get going. Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone? I could wait until you’ve finished eating if you think you need help getting settled for the night.”

This time she did scald her tongue and she took a sip of white soda to cool the burning. The thought of Simon anywhere near her bedroom made her break out into a cold sweat.

Not because she didn’t want him there.

Just the opposite.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, tearing her thoughts from that traitorous path. She was not going to wonder what it would be like to kiss Simon.

Not. Going. There.

“I’m not helpless, you know,” she said tartly. “I’m not the first person with a broken leg and I won’t be the last.”

She caught a glimpse of his grim expression before it vanished. “Okay, then. Here’s my cell phone number.” He slid a slip of paper across the table toward her with his number scrawled on it in his bold script. “I want you to promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

“All right,” she agreed, knowing she wouldn’t. If she’d call anyone it would be Rachel. Not Simon.

No matter how tempting.

“Thanks again, Simon.” She took another sip of her soup, hoping he’d take the hint.

He did. “Goodnight, Hailey.” He stared at her for several long seconds before turning on his heel and walking toward the door.

She held her breath until he shut the apartment door quietly behind him.

Letting out a ragged sigh, she dropped her spoon and buried her face in her hands.

And fought the overwhelming urge to call him back.

Simon left Hailey’s apartment, calling himself every kind of fool.

Hailey would be fine. He was being a total idiot for overreacting like this. She would be absolutely fine.

A broken leg wasn’t the end of the world. Logically, he knew that.

But he couldn’t help feeling responsible. It was his fault she was laid up for the next two weeks at least.

He didn’t need to keep checking on her. Unless she called. Which he knew she wouldn’t.

Hailey was perfectly able to take care of herself.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ducked his head against the drizzle and walked out to his car. As he headed home, the thought of sitting around in his empty house made him restless. Normally he yearned for some quiet time. He’d just bought a new book but tonight the idea of losing himself in a great story did not hold any appeal. In fact, he didn’t want to go home.

He’d wanted to stay with Hailey.

Not an option, he reminded himself harshly. Then what? Call Jadon? Or Quinn? Nah, both men had families of their own.

Executing a safe and legal U-turn, he turned the car around to head back toward Cedar Bluff hospital.

“What are you doing here?” Seth asked, seemingly exasperated when he strolled in. “Hell, Simon, I’m here covering you so you can have the night off.”

“I know, but things have changed.” Simon forced a smile. “I’m here to finish my shift, so you can go back home to your pretty pregnant wife and son.”

“I don’t think so,” Seth argued lightly. “For one thing, you don’t look as if you’ve really recovered from hitting Hailey. Not that I blame you, that had to be horrible. But honestly? I could really use the money as I missed that shift the other day. Kylie really wants to move into a newer and bigger house before the baby is born. We’re scraping up some money for a decent down payment.”

Damn. The one argument he couldn’t fight. He’d never take a needed shift away from a colleague, much less a friend.

Seth could finish off the shift if he wanted to.

But Simon still didn’t want to go home to his empty house. He glanced around, almost desperate for something to keep his mind occupied. With a frown, he noticed the census board wasn’t overly filled with patients. “I could still help out—if things are crazy. Free of charge,” he added hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.

“Nope,” Seth said cheerfully. “No worries, we have everything under control. Seriously, man, it’s just not that busy.”

It figured. Monday nights were generally one of the quietest days of the week.

“How’s Hailey?” Seth asked with a keen glance.

Simon wasn’t fooled by his friend’s deceptively casual tone. The last thing he or Hailey needed was for rumors to start flying. And considering how he’d held her hand during her examination in the trauma bay, he figured the rumors were already brewing. “Fine, considering I slammed into her with my car and nearly killed her.”