Darling Enemy (11 page)

Chapter Nine

The next few hours went by in a haze of terrible pain, urgent voices, movement and sirens, followed by visions of white clothing and silvery metal and, finally, complete numbness.

When she regained full consciousness, she was aware of pain in her face and her right leg and a bruised feeling over most of her body. Added to it all, she had a splitting headache.

Her eyes opened slowly, staring up at a small, dark-eyed nurse who was taking her blood pressure. There was a thermometer in her mouth, and she watched the nurse take it out and read it.

“Hi,” the nurse said gently. “Feel up to a few questions now?”

“I think...so.” Teddi’s hands went to her face, and she felt a thick padding of bandages from her temple to her chin.

“It’s all right,” the nurse said quickly. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

Teddi swallowed. “What else?” she asked, turning to notice for the first time the bandages on her right leg where the covers were disheveled.

“Dr. Forbes will tell you all about it,” she was assured, “when he makes his rounds in about—” the nurse checked her watch “—thirty minutes. But for now, I’m going to send down someone from admissions and let them get their information, if you’re sure you’re up to it?”

“Yes, I’m...I’m fine,” she said without any conviction. Her face and leg were obviously damaged in some way, and she could only guess at the rest of her injuries. She felt bruised all over.

“Just...one thing,” she said before the nurse left. “I was on my way to an interview...I never made it, but could someone call the Amanda Roman Talent Agency and tell them where I am? I’m a model.”

“Sure,” the nurse assured her with a gentle smile. “I’ll do it myself. What is your name, by the way? Did you know, you weren’t even carrying any identification on you?”

“Left my wallet at home again,” Teddi groaned. “Well, no harm done. I’m Teddi Whitehall.”

“I’ll make the call right now,” the nurse said, and she was gone.

Time dragged horribly until Dr. Forbes, a kind, white-haired gentleman, walked in to tell her what was wrong.

“Your leg was badly lacerated,” he began quietly, seating himself on the edge of the bed. “We had to do some cosmetic surgery as we repaired the damage. That’s why your thigh may feel a bit uncomfortable. That’s where we took a patch of skin for the graft. Not to worry, it’ll grow back quickly enough. The same can be done for your face when the stitches come out, if you think you want that. The scar will heal completely, in time, without it,” he added, watching her face grow white.

“My...my leg?” she whispered.

He drew in a slow breath. “My dear, there’s just no simple way to put it. We can repair flesh and bone, to a degree, and cosmetic surgery will put it nearly right again. But we can’t make it as good as new, you understand. Those ligaments are going to take a long time to heal. You may be left with a slight limp. Of course, further surgery can be performed, if necessary.”

“Of course,” she murmured, barely hearing him.

“And you have a concussion,” he added with a faint smile, “as you’ve probably suspected if your head is throbbing as much as I expect.”

“It is uncomfortable,” she agreed, touching it.

“I’ll have the nurse give you something for it.” He patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it today. Give yourself time to adjust to the shock. I realize it must seem like the end of the world to a beautiful woman such as yourself, and a model as well. But you know, in the long run, most changes are beneficial, regardless of the disasters they might seem at first. The difficulty is not in situations, my dear, but in our attitude toward them. Your scars will fade before you realize it. A few weeks from now, you’ll be moving around quite well.”

She nodded, her mind whirling with shock. What was she going to do? The hospital bill would be formidable, and it was clear that she’d be out of work for several weeks if not longer with these disfiguring marks. How could she cope?

“Bear in mind what I said,” he told her, rising. “We’ll keep you here another day or so, and then you’ll have to be careful about getting around, not putting too much pressure on that leg. Once you’re home, you’ll do very well, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Thank you.”

When he was gone, she huddled under the bedcovers, staring at the blank television set and the empty bed in the semiprivate room. Teddi couldn’t ever remember feeling so alone. She was hurt, deserted, with no one to care about her. They’d asked if she wanted them to notify anyone besides Mandy. But she’d said no. There was no one to tell. Dilly would only be irritated at the interruption. King didn’t care, and he’d forbidden her to call Jenna. She burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. She’d always been strong, because she’d had to be. But for a moment, she gave in to grief. Everything seemed so hopeless.

The next morning, things looked no brighter, but Teddi was beginning to think she might cope better a little further down the road. Toward that end, she asked about being released from the hospital. In the first place, she explained to Dr. Forbes, she just didn’t have the funds to cover a long hospital stay and she had no insurance. In the second place, she’d feel much more comfortable in familiar surroundings.

“Well,” he frowned thoughtfully, staring at her with his thin lips pursed, “is there someone there to look after you? You won’t be able to do much walking, you know, and those dressings will need to be changed.”

“Oh, my aunt will be there,” she assured him, cringing mentally at the deliberate lie.

He considered the matter for a minute. “All right,” he agreed finally. “But you’ll need to come to my office in a week and have those stitches removed.”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” she promised.

“Just call my office and make an appointment,” he advised. “Now, look me straight in the eye and promise me you’ll stay in bed for at least three more days before you try to get up and run road races.”

She looked him in the eye and promised. It was a shame that she burst into a giggle on the last word.

It was hard-going alone in the apartment. She could barely hobble to the kitchen, even with the aid of a walking stick, and every step hurt like the devil. If it hadn’t been for a friendly neighborhood grocery that delivered, she probably would have starved to death. Dilly hadn’t left any food in the place, and the meager supplies Teddi had gotten in when she arrived had dwindled to a carton of spoiled milk and some stale bread.

Despite her diminished finances, Teddi gave the delivery boy a large tip after he was kind enough to not only put the groceries away for her, but fix her some soup and coffee as well.

“After all,” she coaxed when he tried to give it back, “without you I’d have starved.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” he replied with a grin.

She finished her coffee after he’d left and leaned back against the sofa. As she thought of the assignments she was probably missing, tears misted her eyes. Her fingers went to the bandage on her cheek. She’d mustered enough courage that morning to change it, and had cried bitterly at the sight of the red antiseptic-smeared gashes with their ugly black stitches. She looked like an advertisement for a horror movie.

She was so wrapped up in her morose reflections that it was several moments before she realized the phone was ringing. She stretched over to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Teddi!” Jenna cried, relieved. “My gosh, I thought I’d never find you! I’ve been calling the apartment every morning for days looking for you. Where were you, what’s going on?”

“I’ve been...working,” Teddi murmured. “How are you?” she asked, fighting down tears at the sound of her friend’s voice.

“I’d be fine if I were an only child,” came the grumbling reply. “King’s been just awful. Oh, Teddi, what did he say to you? Do you know he got stone-drunk the night you left and couldn’t lift his head the next morning? He left suddenly for Australia that afternoon...but never mind that, your agency said something about an accident. I called there in desperation, you see...”

“I flung myself under a Cadillac,” Teddi murmured, drying her tears on the hem of her blouse.

“You what?”

“I stumbled off the curb in my mad dash for a cab,” Teddi said sheepishly. “I was rushing to an interview when I slipped and did a balletic routine—totally impromptu, you understand—under the wheels of a bright yellow Caddie. Didn’t I have good taste?”

“Are you all right?” Jenna persisted. “Why were you in the hospital?”

“I mangled my leg and got a few cuts and bruises. Other than that, I’m my usual self.”

“Are you there alone? Is Dilly home?”

“Heavens no, thank goodness,” she replied with a sigh. “Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice. I was getting maudlin, sitting here by myself.”

“Are you sure it’s only some cuts and bruises?” Jenna asked shrewdly, knowing from long acquaintance how her friend tended to minimize things.

“Only!” Teddi laughed. “It’s my right leg, you know, the one I kick people with!”

“You know what I mean. And where are the cuts? And what did you mean about your leg being mangled?”

“Nothing much,” Teddi lied. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Come up here and stay with me. I’ll look after you.”

“No!” Teddi said quickly, visions of King appearing before her eyes.

“He’s just come back from Australia,” Jenna said, reading the other girl’s mind. “Subdued, quiet, hardly the same man who left here the day after you did. The men are shaking in their boots, waiting for the explosion. Whatever he did or said, Teddi, it’s hurt him, too.”

“You’re sweet to offer,” Teddi said, “but I can’t possibly leave right now. I’ve got to be here if my agency calls. I could still model hands, you know, or lips.”

“Oh,” murmured her blissfully ignorant friend. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Truly I am. Look, how are you and Blakely getting along?”

“Blakely has decided that I am worth fighting King for,” she informed Teddi smugly. “He has told King that he is marrying me in December, whether King likes it or not, and if he can’t work on Gray Stag, there are lots of other properties around the area that will hire him. How about that?”

“I’m so happy for you,” she said genuinely. “Can I come to the wedding?”

“Silly, you’re going to be maid of honor. So do hurry up and heal, won’t you?”

“With all possible speed,” Teddi promised.

* * *

Hours later, reflecting on that conversation while she curled up on the sofa in her fluffy blue bathrobe with her aching leg propped on the cushions, she wondered if Jenna had swallowed the explanation. Her friend tended to be suspicious even at the best of times.

Well, she thought miserably, at least Jenna’s call had brightened her day a little. She wondered why King had darted off to Australia—of course, he was a busy man, and the ranch was his life. Ranches, she corrected herself. Her eyes closed. How was she going to avoid him at Jenna’s wedding? That was thinking a long way ahead, of course, and she’d had years of practice at dodging him. She’d think of something. No matter how much it hurt, she was going to have to find some way of never seeing him again. It would make the long years ahead a little more bearable, without the sight of him to taunt her with things that might have been.

The doorbell clanged loudly and she put down the magazine she was leafing through and hobbled to the door with the help of the walking stick. She’d ordered some more groceries from the store. It was probably the nice delivery boy back again.

She opened the door and stared wide-eyed at the tall, gray-suited man scowling down at her.

“Hello, Teddi,” Kingston Devereaux said quietly.

She felt herself freezing, and all the hurtful things he’d said and done came back in a rush. She stared up at him with darkening eyes.

“I...I’m not dressed for visitors,” she said. “Thank you for stopping by, but...”

He eased past her, closed the door, and scooped her up in his hard arms. The walking stick fell from her fingers as he carried her back to the sofa, and she succumbed for an instant to the need to be held, touched by him.

“Only a scratch, is that how the song goes?” he growled, staring at the bandage on her cheek and the one on her leg, the scratches and bruises visible where the sleeves of her robe fell away from her forearms.

“Will you put me down?” she asked, struggling.

He eased her down onto the sofa and let her go with obvious reluctance, seating himself close beside her.

“How bad is it?” he asked, indicating the bandage on her leg.

She shrugged. “I’ll heal.”

“How bad is it?” he repeated curtly.

“Some torn ligaments and a nasty scar,” she grumbled. Her hand went to the bandage, and her lips trembled betrayingly as her eyes fell. “The stitches come out next week.”

“What else?” he persisted, his eyes dark and stormy.

“Concussion. Some bruises.”

He drew in a deep, slow breath. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

Her eyebrows arched, her eyes widened. “Wouldn’t that be a bit like having a scratched chicken call the fox for first aid?” she burst out.

“I suppose it must seem that way, after what I did to you,” he agreed gently. His eyes searched hers, as if he were inspecting a beloved painting he hadn’t seen in years. “But I would have come, all the same.”

“From Australia?” she asked.

“From hell,” he replied, “if I’d been there. And it felt as if I were, if you want to know. I haven’t slept a full night since you left, remembering the way you looked.... Teddi, for the love of heaven, why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

“How would I have gone about it?” she hedged, looking down at the tiny buttons on her satin gown. “We were worlds apart all those years, and you wouldn’t have cared anyway.” She laughed. “You’d probably have accused me of leading the man on in the first place—”

“Stop it,” he ground out, running an irritated hand through his thick hair. “Don’t you think I feel enough like a heel, as it is?”

He was the picture of a man tormented by regret eating him alive, and Teddi’s compassionate heart was touched. But she didn’t want his guilt. She only wanted his love, and that was out of her reach forever.