Light This Candle (Harlequin More Than Words) (5 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Mitch watched thoughtfully as Cassidy fled the scene.
What was it about her that was so darned appealing to him? Without question,
part of the allure was her fierce loyalty to her son. His own mother had never
shown any such mama-bear tendencies. Who’d have guessed a tiny thing like
Cassidy had such strength within her?

He got into her car and was not surprised to see a host of
warning lights on her dashboard. He drove the vehicle to his mechanic and gave
the guy instructions to give the car a bumper-to-bumper checkup and put all the
work on his credit card.

Since he had Cassidy’s entire key chain, he drove the loaner
car the service station had given him to her place to see what work was needed.
He let himself into the dim apartment, feeling like a burglar. But how else was
he going to help her? She was so independent and so set on not letting anyone or
anything associated with the military offer her assistance. The place was small
and clean, but its neatness couldn’t disguise the overall shabbiness.

It took him most of the afternoon to check out the plumbing,
wiring, kitchen appliances and air conditioner. Nothing was in terrible shape,
but lots of things needed a little tweaking. Maybe the complex’s maintenance man
could do the work, but Mitch would rather look after it himself. That way he’d
be sure it was done right. He’d start with a trip to the hardware store that
night.

* * *

Cassidy was shocked when he showed up the next evening
to change light bulbs and fix a leaky faucet, but he caught the smile hovering
around the corners of her mouth, and that was all the encouragement he needed.
He took home the broken chair that was part of her antique dining set so he
could work on it in the shop in his garage.

He returned the chair the following evening, glued, sanded and
lightly refinished. He stuck around to get the toilet flushing properly and
recruited Cassidy to help him measure her windows for new blinds. The current
ones were broken and depressingly institutional looking.

“Mitch, I can’t ever repay you for all you’re doing,” she
announced from her end of the tape measure. “You’ve got to stop this,”

“Do you like living with broken stuff?” he asked absently.

“Well, no.”

He stared at her down the length of the yellow tape. “Well,
there you have it, then. Move the tape to the top of the frame. Lots of windows
aren’t actually square. We have to measure the top and bottom of the
opening.”

“Mitch, I’m serious. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I’m
starting to wonder why you’ve got so much guilt to work out.”

He released the lock on the tape measure and it slammed back
loudly into its case. Cassidy jumped. “What are you talking about?” he
demanded.

“You’re feeling guilty about Jimmy’s death, right? That’s why
you’re doing all this stuff for me and Cody, isn’t it?”

Shock slammed into him. Was she right? He turned over the
notion in his head and finally replied slowly, “I do feel guilt over Jimmy’s
death. But I also know there was nothing I could do to keep that artillery
battery from misfiring. But that’s not why I’m trying to help out around
here.”

“Then why?” she demanded.

He stared hard at her, frustration pounding through him. If
there was a reason, it was hiding just out of sight, taunting him. “I don’t know
why,” he finally answered. “It feels right.”

Silent, the fun gone from the moment, he followed her into her
bedroom to measure the window there for blinds. He couldn’t help but notice the
framed picture of her and Jimmy together on a beach somewhere. She looked so
much younger in that photo. But then, she’d had to do a lot of growing up in the
past fifteen months.

What
was
he doing? Moving in on a
woman who already had a family of her own and a lifetime of memories? Cassidy’s
plate was full to overflowing already. The last thing she needed was him
complicating her life even further.

Whoa
. He wanted to complicate her
life? Had changing a few light bulbs and getting some food down her turned into
him wanting more? He swore under his breath. When did
that
happen? No matter how many questions he asked, though, no
answers were forthcoming. He packed up his tools and noticed on his way out that
the pile of bills had decreased significantly. But the basket that held them
still wasn’t empty.

The next morning he stopped by Rose Parker’s office. “Got a
minute?” he asked the social worker.

“For a hunk-a-burning-love like you, any time.” She waved him
to a chair.

“How is Cassidy doing?” he asked.

“You tell me. You’re the one who’s been spending so much time
with her.”

“I meant financially. Does she have her most pressing bills
taken care of, or does she need more money? She told me there’s an experimental
heart medicine the doc wants to try on Cody but it’ll cost a couple thousand
dollars.”

Rose winced. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of my
clients’ situations, but I can tell you she doesn’t have that kind of money
lying around.”

“I do,” Mitch replied bluntly. “But I need your help to get it
into her hands. Cassidy’s prickly about accepting help.”

“Child’s had to do without it for so long she’s forgotten how
to let other folks lend a hand. Although she mentioned you’ve been fixing her
car and sprucing up her place for her.”

He shrugged. “I’ve fixed a few things here and there. Her
apartment really could use a facelift, but I don’t know the first thing about
that kind of decorating stuff.” He looked at the social worker speculatively.
“You’re a woman, right?”

Rose laughed heartily. “Last time I checked.”

“Would you swing by Cassidy’s place with me? Help me figure out
a few things to make it look nicer? Her birthday’s in a few days, and I’d like
to surprise her.”

“My, my, Major. We are full of plans, aren’t we?” He frowned,
not sure what the innuendo in her voice meant, but then she added, “I’ll be
happy to help you.”

“I’ve got a key to her place, and Cody’s got an appointment
this afternoon. We can go then.”

“It’s a date, handsome.”

* * *

It took Rose a couple of hours to inspect the apartment,
a day to think and another day to shop. In the meantime, his mandatory vacation
blessedly ended and he was able to return to work. But to his surprise, he found
his thoughts constantly straying from the job at hand to a cute kid fighting for
his life in a hospital and his mother fighting right there beside him.

* * *

During his lunch break the next day, Rose met him at
Cassidy’s apartment to stage his birthday surprise. He helped Rose put a new
slipcover on the sofa, hang the new curtains, spread a fuzzy flokati area rug in
the living room and add a few throw pillows. He stood back to examine her
efforts.

With the new Roman shade open and sunlight flooding the space,
the living room didn’t look or feel like a depressing dungeon anymore. The place
looked light and fresh and welcoming now. Cassidy deserved to come home to
something like this.

“Much better,” he declared.

“Amazing what a little TLC can do for a soul,” Rose said
significantly.

Was she talking about Cassidy’s soul or his? He couldn’t
tell.

He passed by the bill basket on his way out and was pleased to
see it almost empty. He didn’t know what story Rose had used to explain the new
round of financial aid, and he didn’t want to know. Whatever worked to get
Cassidy to accept his help. He recruited Rose to help him tape a big Happy
Birthday sign on the front door. After a quick call to make sure there were no
crises at the office, he headed back to the hospital with Rose.

“How’s Cassidy’s bill situation after that last check I wrote?”
he asked.

“Better than it’s been in a long time, I gather. Oh, and I
talked to Dr. Mistler. He’s willing to tell Cassidy that a grant covered the
cost of the new medicine so she won’t find out you paid for it.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t tell her about how you’re paying
her bills and financing her son’s medication? If she finds out on her own, she’s
going to be spitting mad at you.”

“Then I guess she can’t find out, can she?” he replied
lightly.

He might not be able to bring her husband back, but he could
darned well make her life a little less stressful. She was too independent to
let him help openly. He had no choice but to go behind her back. But Rose’s
warning stuck in his craw anyway. Was he making a mistake?

Mitch escorted Rose inside impatiently. Huh. Who’d have guessed
he’d be chomping at the bit to see a five-year-old like this? But the kid was a
ton of fun to hang out with, and Mitch had gotten used to his daily visits with
the little squirt.

He stepped into an unnatural hush and his heart lurched. A
cluster of scrubs surrounded Cody’s bed, although the medical staff didn’t
appear to be working frantically over the boy as they had the night he’d had his
heart attack.

“What’s up?” he asked the lone nurse at the station.

“Cody’s having a bad day.”

“What does that mean?”

“Breathing distress. Bad oxygen saturation numbers. Heart
arrhythmia.”

His chest clenched in worry. “Can’t anything be done to move
him up on the transplant waiting list?”

“He’s already at the very top of it. Problem is he needs a
child-sized heart. And little kids don’t die every day. Plus, lots of parents
haven’t gotten around to designating their young children as organ donors.
Hearts for kids just aren’t that common.”

A sense of helplessness coursed through Mitch, foreign and
toxic. He was used to fixing a problem. His life was all about taking action.
Controlling combat situations. Creating environments where victory was
inevitable. But Cody was different. Mitch was powerless to help the boy, and he
hated it.

No wonder Cassidy could be so prickly. She must be going crazy,
feeling so helpless. Particularly if she was anything like him—and his
impression was that they had a great deal in common.

“Can I go into Cody’s room? I’d like to say hi to Cassidy.”

The nurse smiled warmly at him. “I imagine she could use a
friend right about now. I’ll need you to put on a mask and gown.”

He suited up like a surgeon and headed into Cody’s room. He was
surprised to see the little boy awake and alert. For some reason he’d expected
Cody to be sleeping or unconscious.

“Mitch!” Cody gasped in a horrible wheeze.

Cassidy looked up at him, and he couldn’t see her expression
behind her surgical mask, but he thought that was gratitude in her eyes.

He moved to Cody’s side. “Hey, buddy. How do like my getup? Do
I look like a superhero?”

“Look like...Dr. Mistler,” Cody gasped.

“Don’t let me try surgery on you, okay? I’m a lot better at
checkers than cardiology.”

Cody smiled weakly at him and inhaled hard through the oxygen
tube under his nose. Mitch stepped back from the bed and joined Cassidy on the
far side of the room. “How are you holding up?” he murmured to her.

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine, but he also understood that she wasn’t going
to admit to any weakness when Cody might hear her. “Is there anything I can do
to help?”

“We need to distract Cody from his breathing problems. He gets
panicked and tenses up, and that only makes things worse.”

“I might be able to do something about that.” Mitch moved back
over to Cody’s side. “Hey, Cody. I was thinking about how good you are at
checkers, and I think you might be old enough to learn how to play backgammon.
Your dad was a killer backgammon player, too. He used to bet with the guys in
our unit, and he took all their money from them.”

“Really?” Cody wheezed.

“Yup. Lemme see if there’s a backgammon board in the hospital
and I’ll show you how it goes.”

Without him having to say a word, one of the nurses nodded at
him and left the room quickly. In less than five minutes a backgammon board was
placed in his hand.

“Okay, Cody. You lie back for now. I’m going to hold the board
up so you can see it.” Mitch showed Cody the board and the colored plastic game
pieces. He explained how the disks were placed and then moved around the board’s
painted arrows. As he did so, the beeps around the bed gradually steadied.

Cody announced in a stronger voice, “I want to play.”

Mitch glanced at the medical staff for permission, and they
carefully propped Cody up and positioned the board across his lap. Mitch said,
“Your mom’s getting left out. How about we have her roll the dice for you and
move the pieces you tell her to?”

“‘Kay.”

And the game was on. As Mitch expected, Cody caught on fast.
There were many nuances to the game that a five-year-old couldn’t grasp, but
Cody’s eyes lit with pleasure as Cassidy moved his pieces moved around the
board.

“Tell me a story about my daddy,” he said at last, pushing the
backgammon board aside.

Mitch complied, although he avoided any tales that might excite
Cody. He described everyday life in a military unit and included a few anecdotes
about Jimmy. In a little while, Cody’s eyelids grew heavy.

Mitch said, “I’m getting pretty tired, little buddy. Would you
mind if I went out in the waiting room and took a nap?”

Cody retorted sleepily, “You want
me
to take a nap.”

“Caught me.” Mitch chuckled. “Sweet dreams.”

“‘Kay.” Cody’s eyes closed, and the beeps slowed even more.

A nurse came to sit on the high stool beside Cody’s bed while
the others in the room filed out silently As the door clicked shut, another
nurse said, “Nicely done, sir.”

Cassidy dropped her mask and Mitch did the same. He was
startled to see tears in her eyes. He was even more surprised when she flung
herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.