“Hi, I’m Melissa VanFleet. I’m a nurse and I may be taking care of your dad for a few weeks.”
Wendi smiled. The impish grin was pure Logan. “Great. I was afraid I’d have to look after him and it would be totally like gross. I mean, what if there was blood? Yuk.”
Melissa laughed. “No blood, I promise. You won’t mind then?”
“Nah.” She glanced at Melissa’s tailored pants and plain cotton blouse. “You won’t wear a uniform, will you?”
“Never.”
“Good.” Wendi glanced down the hall to see if they were alone, then leaned forward and whispered, “I mean they’re totally uncool. And the shoes.”
“I know, they’re like combat boots.” She remembered Logan’s boot-camp remark.
“So when’s my dad coming home?”
Despite her trendy clothes and air of sophistication, Wendi suddenly looked like a scared little girl. The fear in her eyes convinced Melissa to take the job. She knew kids, and this one needed reassurance that her father would be fine. “He’ll be home later today. I’m going to find the doctor and make the arrangements, then I’ll need to go to the house and check on food and that sort of thing. Can you show me where you live?”
“No problem. I’ll just say hi, then we can get going.”
Wendi went down the hall, and Melissa turned back to the nurses’ station.
After speaking with Logan’s physician, she headed toward his room to pick up Wendi. As she walked through the doorway, Logan was speaking.
“So this Melissa person is okay?” he asked.
Wendi looked up and saw her, then smiled. “Yeah. She seems nice.”
Melissa bit back a chuckle. Not a bad endorsement from a twelve-year-old.
“What does she look like?”
Logan’s question seemed casual enough, but Melissa felt her humor fade. Here it comes, she thought.
Wendi studied her thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Dad. Nothing like Mom. She’s at least thirty.”
Melissa put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows.
“Or younger,” Wendi hastily amended.
“And?” he prompted.
“Blondish. Not very tall.” Wendi shrugged and looked away. “Jeez, Dad, this is embarrassing.”
Logan laughed. “I should know better than to ask a girl whose idea of high fashion is anything from MTV.”
Melissa forced a smile. She knew why Wendi was uncomfortable. What was the girl supposed to say? It wasn’t as though she didn’t know she was…plain. She saw the proof every day in the mirror. Wasn’t her mother always telling her that beauty came from within? Just once, though, she’d like to be pretty enough that no one had to look deeply to notice.
She listened a few more minutes, but the conversation had moved on to another topic. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to the bed.
“Hi.”
Logan wasn’t sure if he recognized the voice first or the scent. “Melissa?”
“Very good. I’ll tell the staff that you won’t be needing that guide dog after all.”
“Thanks. I just want to go home. What’s the verdict? Did I pass inspection?”
“Was that a note of pleading I heard in your voice?”
He laughed. “At this point, I’ll do anything to get out of here.”
There was a rustling noise and the sound of her heels on the floor. When she next spoke, he could feel her soft breath tickling his ear. “How was the sponge bath?”
“I got by.” With her help, he thought. Knowing the nurse was old and unattractive combined with him mentally reciting all the states and their capitals had kept him relaxed.
“Here’s the deal. I’ll work for you for three weeks. While your eyes are bandaged, I’ll help with day-to-day living. After the dressings come off, I’ll be around to make sure you follow the doctor’s orders. Can you live with that?”
He nodded. “I’m yours to command.”
“Yeah, right. And pigs fly. You’re the type of patient that gives nurses nightmares, Logan.”
He tapped his chest in an expression of innocence. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I’ve cleared your discharge with the doctor. He’ll be by in an hour to check your eyes one last time, then you can leave. Wendi’s going to take me to the house, now. I’ll make sure there aren’t any hazards waiting to trip you, and stock up on groceries.”
She sounded cool and competent. Wendi’s description was clear in his mind, but he still didn’t have a clue as to what Melissa looked like. Blondish and not very tall from a twelve-year-old could mean anything. He hadn’t realized how much he depended on his eyes to tell him about a person. For now, he had no choice but to trust his instincts. And his gut said Melissa was okay. He had to like someone who could match him quip for quip and even come out on top.
“I’ll be waiting for you to rescue me,” he said. “Wendi, come give your old man a kiss.”
He heard Melissa step back and Wendi move forward. “Bye, Dad. I’m going to spend the afternoon at Kelly’s house and have dinner there. The number’s on the counter in the kitchen.”
“Fine. But be home by eight, kitten.”
“Yes, Dad.” She sighed with bored resignation and planted a kiss on his cheek. He was still smiling when Nurse Attila walked in, her rubber soles squeaking on the linoleum. “Do we need to use the bedpan, Mr. Phillips?”
Melissa pulled the red Volvo station wagon up to the curb by the hospital entrance. She’d wanted to bring her own small car, but Wendi had told her that Logan’s long legs would never have fit. Watching him being wheeled out the door, she had to concede that his daughter might have been right.
Even in the wheelchair, with the white bandages covering his eyes, Logan exuded an air of power. He was a man on the move. The fact that he was wearing jeans and a cotton long-sleeved blue shirt didn’t lessen the impact of his presence. If anything, the casual attire clinging to his masculine body emphasized the strength. After six years of dealing with children, a virile, adult male was going to take some getting used to. But she’d better keep her misgivings to herself. Once he sensed her fear, he’d pounce and show no mercy.
Melissa shook her head and grinned. Get a life, girl, she told herself. He’s just a guy, like a million others. The fact that her heart was racing and her palms felt sweaty was a problem she’d deal with another time—like the year 2000.
She stepped out and moved to the sidewalk. “Ready to go home, Logan?”
He smiled gratefully. There were lines of tension and pain bracketing his mouth. “Yeah. The doctor gave me a very thorough exam before I left. If you were looking for a way to keep me in line, it worked.” The red marks on his face had been treated with a clear ointment that made them seem more raw.
Melissa patted his arm sympathetically. Logan’s corneal abrasion was quite severe. He’d ignored his physician’s orders and now had an infection to deal with, as well. Just the thought of someone probing his already painful eyes and lids was enough to make her shudder.
“Let’s get you home and in bed.”
“Not tonight, dear, I have a headache,” he joked as she helped