Читать книгу At His Command - Brenda Coulter - Страница 9

Texas attorney Jake Hopkins was severely allergic to two things: peanuts and a sweet young army nurse named Madeline Bright. Travis Wylie, Jake’s law partner, took the peanut problem seriously because he’d once had to call 9-1-1 when Jake suffered a life-threatening anaphylactic reaction during dinner at an Austin restaurant. But while Travis readily acknowledged that certain women possessed a knack for turning a man every which way but loose, he steadfastly maintained that Jake couldn’t be allergic to a member of his own species.

Jake knew better. There was nothing imaginary about the symptoms he suffered whenever he was in close proximity to Maddie. All he had to do was clap eyes on the chestnut-haired, blue-eyed beauty and his pulse raced, his throat closed up and his brain stalled out. Since that was pretty much what happened whenever Jake got too close to a peanut, he figured the evidence spoke for itself.

It had been four years since the sudden onset of his peanut allergy, and in that time he’d learned to give a wide berth to foods containing even a trace of the offending legumes. In the past month, he’d trained himself to be just as assiduous about avoiding Maddie.

“Madeline,” he said aloud, correcting himself as he swung his black BMW convertible into the grocery-store parking lot. Using her nickname was flirting with emotional intimacy, and Jake wasn’t that kind of man anymore.

Maybe he never really had been that kind of man. His wife had hinted at that more than a few times when she was alive. Or maybe he and Rita just hadn’t been a good match to begin with. Jake had known she was dissatisfied, and sometimes he wondered if she would have gone so far as to divorce him if a freak boating accident on Lake Travis hadn’t ended her life.

Poor Rita. For three years she’d clung to the stubborn belief that being married ought to temper Jake’s passion for flying helicopters. She’d wanted him out of the army and out of the sky, but Jake was a second-generation West Point graduate, and a life without flying wasn’t any kind of life at all.

He’d had to adjust his thinking on that after he’d awoken at a combat support hospital in the Middle East and learned he’d never walk again, let alone fly. He’d been transferred to the Army Medical Center in Landstuhl, Germany for more surgery, and a week later they’d drugged him up and loaded him on a hospital plane headed for Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C.

Noah Bright, his copilot-gunner and his best friend for fifteen years, had already been shipped home to Texas in a flag-draped casket.

Jake spent several weeks at Walter Reed. During that time, Rita visited twice. After she’d gone back to Texas, she drowned when a ski boat she was riding in capsized.

Jake had missed her funeral, too.

After numerous surgeries and skin grafts, Jake was finally sent home to Texas, where despite the gloomy predictions of his doctors, he learned to walk again. He wasn’t terribly graceful about it, but with the help of a cane he could get around okay. Once he was, quite literally, back on his feet, his father had suggested law school.

It was a cruel irony that if Rita had lived and stuck it out with Jake, she would now have everything she’d wanted. She’d be living deep in the heart of Texas with a newly minted civilian attorney who had ruthlessly trained himself not to think about helicopters. Jake didn’t even look up when one flew overhead, which was no small achievement, considering where he lived. Ensconced in the beautiful Texas Hill Country, the town of Prairie Springs hugged the east side of Fort Bonnell, the largest military installation in the United States—and home to the cavalry brigade that had trained Jake and Noah to do air combat in Apache attack helicopters.

Impatient with himself for dwelling on the past, Jake shook his head and successfully flung those depressing memories out of it. But Maddie—Madeline—remained.

He hated that he was having so little success fighting his insane attraction to her. He was no good for Madeline Bright, and it wasn’t only because of what he’d done to Rita.

“And at five minutes before six o’clock, it’s still a sweltering 102 degrees in downtown Austin,” a radio announcer boomed over the end of an old Trisha Yearwood song. “I don’t have to point out that that’s a little warm for the third day of September.”

“Then don’t point it out,” Jake muttered, irritably punching the radio’s Off button and wondering what the current temperature was here in Prairie Springs, thirty miles northwest of Austin. He loved his convertible, but when he’d left home a few minutes ago he’d been compelled to close the Beemer’s roof and throttle up the air conditioner.

He zipped past the handicapped parking spaces and found a spot near the end of a row. His bum leg was giving him trouble today, but the more it hurt, the more determined Jake was to walk like it didn’t. The leg would never be any stronger, but Jake was convinced that pushing himself through the pain would eventually teach his nerves to quit squawking about it.

He cut the ignition, opened his door and was assailed by a blast of dry heat that reminded him of his last tour of duty in the Middle East.

As if his left leg didn’t remind him of that every single day.

His right leg had caught two bullets but healed nicely; his left was a different story. Bones had been shattered and a big chunk of muscle had been blown off his thigh—and what the army surgeons had salvaged was barely enough to walk on.

Jake reached behind his seat and grabbed a cane made from the root of a sumac tree. If you have to go, go in style, his father had always said, so Jake collected beautifully polished natural-wood walking sticks, which he changed to suit his mood.

Maybe he should be using the black one today.

He put his left foot on the ground and swung his right leg out before pushing himself to a standing position. Sucking in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, he accepted the first lightning bolt of pain and started walking.

He’d gone just a few yards when a canary-yellow Ford Escape peeled around the corner and slid into an empty parking space just ahead of him. The door was immediately flung open and a pair of trim, tanned female legs emerged.

Pretty. They reminded him of—

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the rest of the woman. Sure enough, it was Madeline Bright. Jake froze, hoping she hadn’t noticed him.

She hadn’t. She closed her door and made for the store entrance with her usual energetic stride.

Lost in admiration, Jake followed her with his eyes. She was all army—capable and confident and strong as iron—but she was still every inch a lady. She was fine-boned and tenderhearted and vulnerable in the most appealing ways. From the subtly swinging curves of her dark, shoulder-length hair, which she wore pulled back and above her collar when in uniform, to her slim pink toes, which Jake had glimpsed when she wore sandals, she was lovely.

She was probably the only woman in the world who could make a bulky Army Combat Uniform look good, but Jake much preferred the way she was dressed today. She wore sand-colored cargo shorts, a white tank top that set off her tan, a yellow-patterned scarf in her hair and large sunglasses that made her look like someone the paparazzi ought to be chasing.

Forgetting for a moment that she was his number-two allergen, Jake imagined pulling her onto his good knee and kissing her breathless. Then reason returned and advised him to beat a retreat to his car before Maddie happened to glance over her shoulder.

It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be delighted to see him. Whenever they met, her blue eyes widened with pleasure and her bow-shaped mouth curved into a welcoming smile. As a kid, she’d had an obvious crush on Jake, her much older brother’s best friend. It had been cute back then, but now she was an eminently desirable woman whom Jake had no business desiring, and that made her interest in him a very dangerous thing.

In the month since her arrival in Prairie Springs, Jake hadn’t been able to go anywhere without running into her or hearing people talk about her, and he was beginning to resent it. The whole world was Madeline Bright’s oyster; couldn’t she leave this one little Texas town to him?

Behind him, a car horn blared, reminding him that he was standing in the middle of the traffic lane. Afraid that the noise would prompt Maddie to turn around, he impulsively made for a rusted-out pickup truck. His half-formed thought was to lurk behind the truck’s cab until Maddie was safely inside the store. But his bum leg chose that instant to give out and he pitched forward. Letting go of his cane, he broke his fall with his hands.

Pain shot up his left leg as though a mad pianist was playing glissandos on his raw nerves. As the pavement seared his belly through his shirt, Jake closed his eyes and forced himself to draw slow, deep breaths. It was another second or two before he realized the deafening noise assaulting his ears was no pain-induced hallucination; he’d triggered the car alarm of the red Camry next to the truck.

Oh, this just kept getting better and better. But at least he was safe from Maddie.

“Jake?”

At the sound of her voice, Jake groaned and squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. Better and better and better.

“Jake! Please tell me you’re all right!”

He was aware that she crouched beside him, but he still flinched when she touched his shoulder. “Give me a minute,” he growled.

“Everything’s going to be all right,” she promised, pitching her voice to be heard over the Camry’s alarm. She stroked the back of Jake’s head, multiplying his misery with her gentle touch. “Just tell me where it hurts.”

His eyes popped open. If he didn’t quickly convince her that he was perfectly fine, she’d be running her hands all over his body, checking for broken bones.

“Madeline.” He rolled over and sat up smartly. He considered smiling, but with his teeth clenched against the pain, he figured he’d look maniacal, rather than reassuring. “What a surprise.”

She was clearly in no mood for chitchat. “Where are you hurt?”

“Just jarred the leg, that’s all.” They were still shouting at each other. “Could you hand me my stick?”

She hesitated, sweeping him with a doubtful look, but then she went to retrieve his cane. While she was gone, Jake flattened one palm against the scalding door of the pickup and one against the blistering fender of the Camry and hauled himself up.

When Maddie returned, the grim set of her mouth communicated her displeasure that he’d risen without assistance. “Jake, you should have let me—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted, reaching for the cane. “Thanks.”

She looked him up and down, skepticism written all over her pretty face. “Where did you get hit? All I saw was the car speeding away, and then I noticed a pair of legs sticking out from behind this truck.”

“The car didn’t hit me,” Jake said.

“Well, praise God for that.” Maddie’s relief was obvious as she removed her sunglasses and hooked them on the neck band of her shirt. “But what happened?”

Dilemma. Should he admit the truth, that he’d dived behind the truck to avoid being seen by the woman who’d been starring in his dreams for the past month? Or should he attempt to salvage his pride with a little white lie?

Easy call. “I tripped. Over…something,” he mumbled.

She leaned toward him and cupped a hand to her ear. “Pardon?”

“I tripped over something,” Jake repeated loudly, just as the car alarm ceased its obnoxious honking. The lie hadn’t been a good one to begin with, and yelling it into the sudden silence didn’t improve it any.

Confusion wrinkled Maddie’s forehead as her gaze roamed over the smooth asphalt of the perfectly level parking lot. There wasn’t a crack, a bump or even a pebble to be seen. She looked back at Jake and frowned. “Your face is flushed.”

Great. Now he was blushing like a teenager. He jerked his gaze away from her dangerously beautiful eyes, which were as deep and blue as the sea of bluebonnets that covered the central Texas hills in springtime. “The heat’s getting to me, that’s all.”

She stepped closer and laid her palm against the side of his face, no doubt checking his temperature. “Are you staying hydrated?”

“Yeah.” Jake shied away from her touch, hoping she hadn’t noticed his racing pulse.

He’d never felt more ridiculous in his life. He was a thirty-nine-year-old combat veteran, a former U.S. Army aviator who’d flown Apache attack helicopters and twice been decorated for valor. So why was it that whenever this sweet young woman appeared on his radar screen, his heart sped up and he trembled like a nervous Chihuahua?

Maddie brushed some fine gravel off the front of his damp shirt. “I worry about you, Jake.”

Well, that was just great. All he’d needed was one more thing to feel guilty about where she was concerned.

“Is he okay?” A plump, elderly woman holding a paper bag of groceries in one arm approached the driver’s door of the Camry. She looked anxiously from Maddie to Jake, who was now leaning heavily on his cane and wishing he’d just called for a pizza instead of coming to the store in search of dinner.

“Yes, ma’am,” Maddie said sweetly. “He’ll be fine.”

“Oh, good. I saw him fall, but my old legs don’t move very fast.” The woman shook her head. “Wasn’t it just the oddest thing, the way he took that flying leap and—”

“I’m fine,” Jake interrupted. The less said about his flying leap, the better. “I appreciate your concern, ma’am, and I’m sorry I triggered your alarm.”

She dismissed that with an airy wave of her hand. “Isn’t it annoying, the way those dumb things go off every time somebody breathes wrong?” As Jake shifted out of her way, she opened the Camry’s door. “If I wanted to steal a car, I’d set off the alarm first to make sure nobody paid any attention to me.” Cackling at her own joke, she got in and closed the door.

Maddie slid a protective arm around Jake’s waist and silently urged him to back up a little more. Nurse or not, she was a natural-born caregiver. But Jake didn’t want to be fussed over by anyone, least of all by Noah’s kid sister.

Noah.

The memory of their last hour together was never far from Jake’s mind. How could it be, after what he had done? For more than five years the guilt had gnawed at his insides, ensuring he never forgot how his mistake had cost Noah his life.

“Where’s your car?” Maddie asked with brisk purpose, almost as though she meant to hoist Jake over her shoulder and carry him there.

He shook his head. “I’m going to the store.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Whatever you need, I’ll get it. You took a bad spill, and you’re going home to rest that leg. Now where’s your car?”

Giving in, he pointed with his stick and then hobbled in that direction, each step on his left leg pure agony. Since he used the cane on his right side, Maddie grasped his left arm and stuck to him as though she’d been glued there. She wasn’t supporting any of his weight, but it was clear she was ready to do so if called upon.

“You need water,” she announced as Jake collapsed onto the driver’s seat of the Beemer and stashed his cane behind it. “Wait here. I have some in my car.”

“No need.” Jake reached for the quart-size bottle of spring water on his passenger seat. After removing the cap, he offered the first drink to Maddie.

She grinned down at him and shook her head. “Still quite the gentleman, aren’t you, Captain Hopkins?”

“Don’t call me that.” In the past five years, he’d done his best to forget his old life. He wished the rest of the world would forget it, too.

He saluted Maddie with the bottle and took a long pull of sun-warmed water.

“Good.” She gave his shoulder an approving pat. “Now get some air going.”

Jake started his engine and switched the air conditioner to its highest setting. “Happy now?”

Maddie shook her head. “I can see the pain in your eyes, Jake.” She reached out to touch his face, then apparently thought better of it, which was a very good thing. “Do you have your meds with you?”

“No.” He had a prescription, naturally, but he refused to eat painkillers like candy, so most of the time he just gritted his teeth and bore it. At the moment, however, drugs sounded pretty good.

“Anna Terenkov told me you live in an apartment over your law offices,” Maddie said.

Jake nodded, wondering what else their mutual friend had said about him. Maddie—Madeline—knew him far too well already.

“I think you’re okay to drive that short a distance,” she said. “It can’t be more than a mile from here. Just promise you’ll go straight home.”

“I will.” Anything to get rid of her.

“Thank you.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. It happened so fast, Jake didn’t have time to avoid it. Fortunately he didn’t have time to enjoy it, either.

“It’s unbelievably hot out here,” Maddie said cheerfully as she tucked an escaped lock of hair under the yellow scarf she wore as a headband.

She had always been crazy about yellow and still wore at least a touch of it whenever she could. It was the color of the sun, she’d told Jake years ago. The color of happiness.

“What am I getting you from the store?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He didn’t want her doing him any favors. “You don’t have time to—”

“Actually, I do, because this is my day off. And guess what?” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “I’ve been house hunting.”

House hunting? Jake almost groaned aloud. Why couldn’t she just stay on post, where she belonged? If she moved into town, Jake would bump into her even more often than he did already.

Just yesterday, he’d seen her at the offices of Children of the Day, an international Christian charity founded five years ago by Prairie Springs resident Anna Terenkov to assist innocent victims of war. For the past year, Jake had been doing pro bono legal work for the organization, so he’d become friendly with Anna and with Olga, her delightfully outlandish mother.

He genuinely liked both women, but lately Anna and Olga had been getting on his nerves because they couldn’t stop talking about their new friend Maddie. She was so sweet, they gushed. So eager to help everyone. And Olga, the inveterate matchmaker, had pointed out on more than one occasion that a man would have to be dead not to notice how pretty she was.

Jake definitely wasn’t dead.

Dreamy-eyed, Maddie stared over the Beemer’s roof. “I’m looking for a place where I can have a flower garden and a kitchen big enough to actually cook in.” Her gaze shifted back to Jake. “The kitchenettes in the bachelor officers quarters at Fort Bonnell must be some architect’s idea of a joke, and…” She stopped and gave herself a little shake. “Never mind. What am I getting you from the store?”

“Nothing, thanks. I wanted something for dinner, but I’ll just go home and make a sandwich.” With two stale pieces of bread—all that was left of the loaf were the heels—and the last thin sliver of ham, which he’d have to sniff carefully before he risked eating. He never went grocery shopping until he was completely out of food.

“Tell you what,” she said brightly. Maddie—Madeline—was always as cheerful as a songbird. “I’ll cook something for you.”

“No.” Panic roared through Jake. But he realized he’d spoken too sharply, so he added, “Thanks, but I have to finish some paperwork tonight.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix something quick and easy.”

Jake opened his mouth on another protest and felt it die in his throat. How could he decline such a generous offer without stomping all over her feelings? “All right,” he said unhappily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t look so delighted.” Gazing at him with amused affection, she ruffled his hair. “You can work until dinner’s ready, and as soon as we’ve eaten, you can go right back to your papers. It’s not like this will be a date or anything.”

No, it would certainly not be a date or anything. Not with her. Jake would give up women entirely before he’d make a mistake of that magnitude.

Her expression turned wistful. “It’s been a long time since we shared a meal.”

At those words, memories Jake had been fleeing for years caught up to him and swirled around him like the rising waters of a flash flood. During his and Noah’s second year at West Point, they’d spent the first few days of their Christmas leave at Noah’s home in Dallas. Jake had liked Noah’s mother and his happy, bouncy little sister, who must have been six or seven at the time. Maddie and her mama had more or less adopted Jake, and he’d seen them often in the years that followed. But in those dark days when Jake had lain in the hospital broken in body and spirit, his faith failing as guilt consumed him, he had refused their visits.

Since that time he’d had no contact with the Brights. Then last month Maddie had appeared, all grown up and exquisitely lovely, right here in Prairie Springs. She’d been openly delighted to see Jake, who was still resolved to stay out of her life. The problem was that whenever this grown-up Maddie smiled, every molecule in Jake’s body shifted toward her, as though she was the moon and he was an ocean tide.

Defeated, he opened his wallet and handed her some grocery money.

“What sounds good to you?” she asked.

She sounded good to him. Her melodious drawl made him think of warm honey dripping from a spoon. His gaze strayed to her mouth and he wondered what it would be like to—

“Jake?”

He hastily collected his wandering wits. “Maybe some kind of pasta. And I like salad. But you should know I’ve developed a severe allergy to peanuts.” And you, he added silently. Just look what she was doing to his brain at this very moment.

Her fine dark eyebrows drew together. “Peanuts?”

“Yeah. I had my first reaction about four years ago. I guess it happens that way sometimes.”

“Do you carry—”

“Epinephrine.” He patted the right front pocket of his jeans. Since that horrifying episode at the restaurant in Austin, he’d never been without his emergency lifesaving kit.

Maddie nodded. “I’ll be careful to read the labels on everything I buy.” She stepped back and started to close his car door, then hesitated. “What about dessert? Do you still like sweet things?”

Sweet things? “Oh, yeah,” he breathed, trying not to stare at her mouth. Her rosy pink lips looked natural, but she might have been wearing lipstick. “I’m a sugar fiend. Cookies, cakes, pies, ice cream…”

“Ice cream.” Her smile blossomed. “Jake Hopkins, you’re a man after my own heart.”

He managed a weak smile to hide his terror.