“Yea!” she exclaimed in a small, comical voice. “Or put another way...” She inclined her head regally, feeling just a twinge of pain. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I really must be going now.”
Shaking his head, he left the room again, opening the door for the nurse to leave ahead of him. Eva’s relief evaporated instantly. Sighing, she plopped down on the foot of the bed, with all that currently stood between her and starvation clutched to her chest. She looked at the cold wrapped sandwich in one hand and the bag of chips in the other then tossed them onto the pillow. What did it matter? What did any of it matter?
For a moment she entertained the notion of staying where she was and letting that too-handsome doctor tend her. But, no, she couldn’t do that. Eventually he’d figure out who she was and, if she couldn’t prevent it, how to contact those she’d left behind, which meant that Ricky would be put through the same horrific ordeal that she’d had to endure. That she could not allow.
Nope, better just to carry on to the bitter end. She’d heard there were some lovely spots in south Texas where she could winter. She’d get some money together, find a remote place where she could hide. With luck they wouldn’t find her until spring or even summer. By then Ricky would be well adjusted to her absence. Poor kid. He’d had some tough breaks, but this was the best of a bad lot of options that she could see. She hoped he could forgive her, but if not, so be it.
Shoving aside such maudlin thoughts, she got dressed. After pulling her black long-sleeved knit top over her head, she tied three shawls about her waist to make a skirt then draped a triangular scarf diagonally over one shoulder and knotted that at her waist. A second scarf went over the opposite shoulder, crisscrossing the other. She tied a third about her neck and tucked the point into the waistband of her leggings, letting the top drape loosely. Stacking up the final three colorful, silky shawls, she tossed them about her shoulders. They were amazingly warm, as generations of women throughout history well knew.
Her leather clogs were in the bottom of the bag with her cell phone. She dropped them to the floor and slipped her feet into them, adding over two inches to her height.
Taking the plastic bag, she dropped the sandwich and the chips into it. Then she helped herself to a pair of latex gloves and a small box of tissues on the counter before sitting down on the edge of the bed to wait. Barely had she parked herself before a knock sounded lightly, and the door cracked open.
“Are you decent?”
“Well, I’m dressed,” she drawled. “Beyond that I make no promises.”
Dr. Leland backed into the room, wearing a suit beneath a long overcoat and rolling a wheelchair behind him. “What are you, a stand-up comedienne?”
“If the shoe fits,” she retorted cheerfully, holding up one foot.
“Ha-ha.”
She eyed the wheelchair reluctantly. “Do I really need that?”
“Depends. Do you want to walk back to that grocery store parking lot or ride?”
Sighing melodramatically, she got up and plopped down in the wheelchair. “And you say I’m stubborn.”
“If the other shoe fits...”
“Well, we know you are no stand-up comedian,” she quipped.
He rolled her out of the room. As they moved through the area, Eva couldn’t help noticing that nurses rushed to open doors, move carts and just generally smooth the way, always flashing smiles and coy looks at the doctor. Eva could stand it just so long before waving her arms and singing at the top of her lungs, “Hel-lo! Patient coming through. Doctor Luscious is just half the parade.”
“Will you behave?” he growled. “Or can you not help yourself?”
“Why should I?”
Then again, why shouldn’t she? After all, what did she care if all the nurses in the hospital cast lures at the man? He was someone else’s problem. Poor woman. She probably didn’t have a moment’s peace. Of course there would be someone, probably several someones. A man as good-looking as he, and a doctor no less, could have his pick. He could even be married, though she had noticed no wedding ring—and hated that she had noticed. Apparently impending doom did not produce wisdom any more than did hard experience.
He wheeled her through a waiting room and then a pair of automatic glass doors onto a covered sidewalk. A luxury sedan sat waiting at the curb. A uniformed security guard, female, slid out from behind the steering wheel and walked around to take the chair after Eva vacated it. Leland opened the passenger door for Eva, kissed the security guard on the cheek, reducing the hefty woman to giggles, and rushed around the front of the car to the driver’s side, his overcoat flapping with the force of his strides.
Eva was buckling up when he dropped down behind the steering wheel. He followed suit, tossed a wave at the still-tittering security guard and put the car in gear. Eva shook her head.
“You have no shame, do you?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You kissed the security guard! It’s not enough the nurses are all in love with you? You must have the security guard, too?”
He rolled his eyes. “For your information, she’s family.”
Eva blinked at that. “Oh. Well, in my defense, everyone’s wrong sometimes.”
Starting the engine, he shook his head. “She’s my late wife’s cousin, actually, and she’s married. And she has two grown children. And her husband is disabled.”
Those two words, late wife, rang inside Eva’s skull like a bell, reverberating repeatedly. Late wife, late wife, late wife...
“All right already,” Eva cried melodramatically. “I was wrong. So shoot me.”
“I’m just saying.” He hunched his shoulders.
Eva trained her gaze on the scenery passing by her window. Okay, she conceded silently, so he really was rather likable, when he wasn’t being all handsome and knowing and authoritative.
Several minutes passed before he spoke again. “And the nurses are not all in love with me. Actually, none of them are in love with me.”
She chanced a glance at him and found him scowling. “How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“O-kay.” A smile almost surprised her. She had to work at keeping it away. She got very interested in the scenery again.
A few minutes later he said, “You’ll need to have those stitches removed in about a week.”
“Will do.”
He pulled an envelope from inside his coat and tossed it into her lap. “Give that to the doctor who does it.”
She looked at the envelope but not at him. “All righty.”
Shifting in his seat, he added, “I suggest you get a good night’s sleep before you drive.”
Turning back to the window, she gave him a noncommittal answer. “Very well.”
After a few more blocks, he said, “Don’t throw that envelope away.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it.”
She finally looked at him again. “I said I wouldn’t. What’s with you?”
“I tucked a few bucks in there, if that’s all right with you,” he snapped. Then, more mildly, he added, “You said you were broke.”
“Oh.” Surprised and truly chastened, she looked down at the envelope. “That’s very