Читать книгу Falling For The Sheik - Carol Grace, Carol Grace - Страница 12

“Well, what did you think?” Rosie asked the minute Amanda walked into her friend’s kitchen where the fondue was bubbling on the stove and the air was filled with the rich aroma of cheese and kirsch.

“He’s in bad shape,” Amanda said, hanging her jacket on a hook near the door.

Rosie nodded and handed her friend a glass of white wine.

“More than you can manage? Worse than you thought?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” What could she say? How to explain that after all these years of professional nursing, a patient had touched her somewhere that was off limits. And that she was still reeling from the shock.

At that moment, Rosie’s husband Jake burst in the back door. “Welcome to California, Amanda. I hope you’re here to stay.” His face was ruddy, his voice was booming. Amanda had only met him once, at their wedding back in Chicago, Rosie’s hometown, but he greeted her with a welcoming hug as if he was as glad to see her as his wife was. Then he kissed Rosie as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of hours and Amanda felt a pang of most unbecoming envy. Their affection for each other was out in the open for all to see. The way it should be. No sneaking around. Hiding from sight. Fearing being caught. It was clear they’d forged solid, unbreakable ties that nothing could separate.

Overriding the envy was happiness for her friend. When Rosie alluded to her secrets, Amanda knew they weren’t all happy ones. Rosie had put in her time, had had her share of heartbreak and disappointment. What was it Rahman had said he believed? “You get what you deserve.” Was that true? Did Amanda deserve what she’d gotten? To have her heart broken? She hoped not. If she had, she had turned over a new leaf in a new place. Never again would a man take advantage of her. Never again would she be fooled into trusting a man.

If Amanda was envious at meeting Rosie’s husband, she was more so when she saw the three-year-old twin girls, Sara and Nora. She got down on her knees and put an arm around each one of them. This was certainly her day for twins, she thought. Unlike Rahman and his brother Rafik, these two were identical in energy, charm and looks. Over their mother’s protests, the girls dragged Amanda to their room to show her their beds, their dolls, their toy house, their pet hamster and their books. They asked her a million questions.

They climbed into her lap, they combed her hair with their Barbie doll’s tiny comb and brush. Amanda felt a cold lump in her chest she didn’t know was there start to melt away. Felt the tension of the day fade as fast as the sun set behind the mountains. She could have gladly stayed there all evening, playing pretend games. Pretending that these were her children, this was her life. Pretending she didn’t have a tough job ahead of her.

Amanda didn’t know what had happened to her. She’d never longed for children the way Rosie had. But now that she’d seen these two, now that they were so close she could smell their baby shampoo, feel their soft skin and hear their little voices chatter away, she’d had a vision, an epiphany. This is what it could be like, should be like. Only it wasn’t.

She came back to earth with a thud. She was pretending just like the children. She’d had quite a day. First, she was still in shock, coming to a small mountain community from a big city only a few days ago. Second, she was in culture shock from meeting the twin sheiks. One intense, demanding, difficult, and maddeningly attractive despite everything. The other kind and persuasive. Just as good-looking, but there was no tension between them. No electric current flowed between them the way it had between Rahman and herself. Of course, if it wasn’t the altitude that caused her reaction to Rahman, it could be a reaction to what she’d left behind, to the man who’d deceived her. Amanda knew she was vulnerable. She knew her heart had been ripped out of her chest and broken in two. She needed time to heal, just like Rahman did. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell her that.

When the au pair came to retrieve the little girls for their baths, they kissed Amanda good-night and she reluctantly went back to the kitchen to help Rosie toss the salad.

“The girls are crazy about you,” Rosie said as the three of them sat down at the candlelit dining room table.

“It’s mutual,” Amanda said. “I’m gaga over them. They’re the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” Rosie said with a proud smile. “Now have some fondue and then tell us what happened with the sheik.”

“I met him and I decided I couldn’t do it,” she said.

“Why, what did he say? How did he act?” Rosie asked.

“Just the way I’d expected. Impatient, arrogant, demanding. I told myself life is too short to spend it on somebody like that.”

“Of course he’s sick,” Rosie interjected. “Being sick brings out the worst in anyone.”

“I know. I know. I tried to make allowances for that. He has every right to be cranky. He’s obviously in pain. He’s frustrated. He’s used to being in charge. Suddenly he’s immobilized. Has to ring a bell when he wants something. It’s difficult. It’s humiliating.” As she said the words she pictured the man in the bed, his gaze haunting her even now, hours later. She remembered the way he held her hand and she held his.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to say ‘but…?”’ Rosie asked with a smile.

“But he’s a sheik,” Amanda reiterated. “I don’t know for sure, but I have the feeling the traits I saw today will be there when he gets well. I suspect that he’s spoiled and that he’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted.” If so, then why the sad look when he thought no one was looking? Maybe he hadn’t really gotten everything he’d ever wanted. “I’ve dealt with a lot of difficult patients, but this man…”

“He got to you, didn’t he?” Rosie asked, her forehead puckered in a frown. “That’s not like you. Not like the old cool and calm Amanda. You were such a natural in the trauma center. Nothing rattled you. But this guy rattled you, I can tell. How come?”

“Maybe I felt sorry for him and I didn’t want to.” Maybe I was attracted to him and I didn’t want to be. “I don’t know.”

Amanda played over their conversation as she ate her salad. Why had Rahman gotten to her? Why had she reacted so strongly? She’d had good-looking male patients before. Patients who flirted with her and who tried to make passes at her from their hospital beds. She’d been able to rebuff them pleasantly and firmly and that was the end of it. Rahman hadn’t even really flirted with her.

“Sorry,” Amanda said jolted out of her reverie. “Did you ask me something?”

“I gather you’ve decided not to take his case then,” Rosie said.

“No, despite what I said, I’m going to do it.”

“What?” Rosie’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“A funny thing happened on my way out of Rahman’s room. I ran into Rafik. That’s the sheik’s twin brother. He’s everything Rahman isn’t. He’s very nice and low-key and thoughtful. He asked if he could talk to me and we went to the lounge where I told him I couldn’t take the case.

“He said he understood but asked me to think it over. Maybe if I saw the place…So we drove to the ski ‘cabin’ as you call it. And you’re right, it’s a beautiful house, all done in natural wood and stone with a spectacular view of the lake. They’ve ordered every kind of equipment you can think of for his recovery. A veritable rehab unit right there on the lake with a year-round housekeeper who is a great cook, if the smells coming from the kitchen are any indication.

“I met the whole family, his brother’s wife, his cousin, his wife and a few others I’m not sure who they were. They convinced me to take on Rahman. They said he hasn’t been himself lately. It’s not just his accident. It’s other things, too. Apparently he’s not only hurting physically, he’s also hurting emotionally. They didn’t say what the other things were. I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“So they talked you into it,” Rosie said. “I hope it works out.”

“So do I because the die is cast. The family is all leaving town to go back to San Francisco now that they’ve found me.”

“I hope they know how lucky they are,” Rosie said emphatically.

“They’re definitely making it worth my while,” Amanda admitted. “I’m not just doing it out of the goodness of my heart. They’ve offered me a lot of money and I get to live in that gorgeous house.” That didn’t change the fact that she was risking her newfound serenity. That she wasn’t at all sure it was the right thing to do.

“When will the hospital discharge him?” Rosie asked.

“I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow. The house isn’t quite ready yet. Needless to say Rahman is impatient.”

“You can ask Doc Flanders about his discharge,” Rosie said. “I’m so glad this has worked out. I hope…well I hope I haven’t led you astray.”

“It’s too soon to say it’s worked out, but whatever happens, it was my decision. You never pressured me.” Amanda tried to sound calm and confident, but in fact her stomach did flip-flops at the thought of staying under the same roof as the sheik. Being with him night and day. Hearing him moan in his sleep. Administering his medicine round the clock. Sitting by the side of his bed monitoring his lung capacity, testing him for complications or distress.

She knew she could help him recover. But what would happen to her in the process? For Rahman to get well, she would need his help. He had to make the effort. Did he have the drive, the will to help her help him? She kept seeing his face, his hollow eyes. She kept hearing his deep voice tell her that things happened for a reason. If Rahman didn’t believe he deserved to recover, he might not.

The next day, Amanda was back at the hospital. After talking to the doctor and Rahman’s family, it was decided to release him after the house was renovated and at least partly ready for him. In addition to what had already been done, workmen had been dispatched to install ramps for Rahman’s wheelchair and a hospital bed was to be installed in a bedroom on the first floor.

Amanda should have been flattered the doctor had so much faith in her that he’d consider discharging Rahman so soon. Of course, Dr. Flanders may have had other motives for getting rid of the patient who was consistently asking the nurses for something. She also should have been flattered that Rahman’s family had placed their confidence in her. But they had been desperate and had little choice. Even if Amanda should have been flattered, she wasn’t.

All she felt was cold on the outside and hollow on the inside. She was worried. Worried about this kind of heavy-duty nursing. Worried about their nurse-patient relationship. One-on-one contact with a man who’d had such a strange effect on her. She told herself she was being overly sensitive. He was just another patient. To be treated like all her other patients. Amanda repeated it to herself until it had sunk in.

She looked at herself in the mirror in the hospital restroom. She didn’t look nervous. She’d had years of practice of not showing emotion in front of her patients. Sometimes she had kept this mask on in her private life as well. Today, she needed it more than ever. Nobody wanted a nurse who had doubts about her job. She practiced a bright smile. Not bad for someone who wanted to run out the front door and take the first plane back to Chicago. From the frying pan into the fire was the phrase that kept running through her mind.

Amanda kept the smile pasted on her face when she headed to Rahman’s room. She thought he’d be delighted to be getting out so soon. He was far from it. She stood outside the room and listened to him rant and rave at his family.

“You’re leaving? Everyone is leaving and going about their lives while I waste away here by myself? Transfer me to a hospital in San Francisco,” he shouted. Only his shout came out like a wheeze. “I’m not staying here.”

A woman spoke in a soft lightly accented voice. “Rahman,” she said. “Calm down. You’re in no condition to travel. You know that. As soon as you are, you can come home. Everything is arranged. The house is being set up and we have hired you a wonderful nurse. We met her yesterday and we were very impressed. She’s been highly recommended.”

“Highly recommended by who? The doctors at this hospital? They’ll do anything to get rid of me. That’s fine with me. I want to leave. I don’t need some special nurse. How do they know what I need? Get me out of this place. I’m going home. And I don’t mean the ski cabin.”

A gruff-voiced older man spoke next. “You can’t go back to the city. Not yet. You’re much too sick. You’ve had a serious accident. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Lucky? You think I’m lucky? Have you ever been confined to a bed all hours of the day except to hobble to the bathroom? Had to take a stack of pills just to keep the pain from taking over? To feel like hell all the time anyway? To think you’re losing your mind as well as the use of your legs. Not to be able to get enough air to breathe? You call that lucky?”

“Rahman!” the woman said in a voice full of indignation.

“Sorry, Father,” Rahman said, in a subdued tone.

Amanda stood outside the door wishing she hadn’t heard all that. She had thought everything was in order. She had thought he was reconciled to staying at the ski cabin. She had thought he’d be grateful to his family. What had caused this outburst? He sounded like a spoiled brat. Should she sneak away and pretend she’d never heard anything at all? As she was pondering her choices, Rahman’s twin brother came out and greeted her.

“I assume you heard all that,” he said with a grim look.

“I’m afraid so.”

“He doesn’t mean it. He’s upset because we’re leaving.”

She gave him her best hospital smile, totally insincere and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “It’s understandable,” she said. But it certainly wasn’t a good way to start this job. As if she hadn’t been worried enough. Now she knew how desperately Rahman didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be left behind, and didn’t want to have her for his nurse. It hurt more than it should, even though she knew enough not to take it personally. She was being ridiculous and far too sensitive. She knew perfectly well how he was feeling—helpless, insecure, and in real pain.

“Good. I’m glad you understand,” his brother said.

“I’ll come back later,” Amanda said. “When things have calmed down.”

His room was empty. His family had finally left to go to dinner at some lakeside restaurant. Rahman wanted them to stay, but he was also glad to see them leave. He loved them but he couldn’t stand to be around them. They were driving him crazy with their lectures and their orders. But without them he was unbearably lonely. He sometimes felt he was losing his mind just when he needed it the most. It must be the medicine that made him so ambivalent. In the past, he had been able to pretty much do whatever he wanted. Now he had to rely on others for everything and it was not a good feeling. He’d always had an strong independent streak. He’d never minded being alone because he knew Rafik was around and Lisa and the rest of his family.

But now…he had no one. Even his twin brother, his closest friend in the world, didn’t seem to understand what he was going through. Ever since Rafik’s marriage there had been a gap between them. Now more than ever. He saw the way Rafik looked at him, the one person who ought to sympathize was baffled and annoyed by his behavior.

Rahman watched the sun set behind the mountains with heavy-lidded eyes. It was hard to believe he’d been on top of those mountains only days ago. How many days? He didn’t know. The days and nights blended together. Whenever he fell asleep, someone came in and woke him up to take his temperature or give him some medicine. The lights in the hall were on all day and all night. He didn’t know which was which. Nurses came and went. He couldn’t keep them straight.

Except for the one called Amanda. The one who was going to go home with him, no matter how much he objected. She was different. He could never mistake her for the others. She radiated calm and serenity and excited him at the same time.

Why didn’t she wear white like the other nurses? She wore those stretch pants over a pair of incredible legs. What would she wear when she was taking care of him? His mind conjured up all kinds of pictures. Amanda in a starchy white dress, Amanda in a blue turtleneck sweater that matched her eyes and showed off her curves. He felt his pulse speed up. What would happen to his vital signs when she was around 24/7?

He didn’t want her.

He hated the idea of a young attractive nurse taking care of him as if he were a baby. It was going to be humiliating to have her giving him his food and his medicine and telling him what to do and him being in no condition to resist. If he had to have a woman take care of him, she should at least be old and ugly. How hard could it be to find an old and ugly nurse? How hard could it be to hire a helicopter to airlift him out of here and back to the city? His family obviously hadn’t tried very hard. They didn’t know it, and he wasn’t going to tell them, but if he spent much time with Amanda he was going to want things he couldn’t have.

He was going to avoid all future entanglements with women. No more thrill-seekers like Lisa and especially no women like Amanda, a woman whose life was devoted to taking care of people. He didn’t want to be taken care of. Not by anyone. He was through with women of any kind. He’d had his chance, then fate had intervened and taken away the most vibrant, exciting woman he’d ever met. There wouldn’t be another like her. Destiny had decreed a life of loneliness for him and he’d damned well better get used to it.

He closed his eyes and his mind drifted. What was wrong with him? He kept seeing Amanda even though she wasn’t there. Hallucinations, that’s what it was. He remembered how she looked standing there in his doorway the first time he saw her. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven for one brief moment. He remembered falling asleep with her at his bedside and waking up without that groggy, drugged feeling. That was a good thing. But it would never happen again. He couldn’t ask her to hold his hand every night at bedtime. Yes, he was sick, but that’s not what nurses did. He kicked the metal bed frame with his good foot and winced. Damn this accident. Damn this little town and its hospital.

When he looked up she was standing in the doorway again. But was she really there? Or was it just another illusion? If she was real, he wished he’d had time to sit up and try to look alert, at least run his fingers through his hair. He hated it when he saw pity in the nurses’ eyes. That was one good thing about her, there was no pity in her eyes. There was something else, but he didn’t know what to call it.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he growled.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said.

“I wasn’t asleep,” he said.

“How are you feeling?”

“You’re the nurse. You know everything. You tell me.”

“You have a healthy attitude,” she said.

“Is that what you call it?”

“I have a theory that the most obnoxious patients, the ones who fight back are the ones who get well the fastest.”

“You think I’m obnoxious?”

“I think your behavior is.”

His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “You could be right.” Rahman looked her over for a long moment. Amanda was wearing a blue turtleneck sweater and dark wool pants, almost exactly what he’d pictured her in. He felt a surge of sexual awareness rocket through his body. It caught him by surprise. He thought his responses were all numb. He didn’t expect to feel anything ever again. But there it was.

Even though he couldn’t do anything about it, it was a good sign. At least that part of him was still functional. For all the good it did him. In any case it was something to be celebrated. Or was it? Would it just lead to more frustration? One more thing he couldn’t do? “Come in and sit down,” he said. “Is this a social call or professional?”

“Both.” She sat on the little stool next to his bed. Just where she was the last time she was here. “I know how you feel about staying here in town and having me as your nurse.”

“What are you, psychic?” He told himself she was bluffing. She couldn’t possibly know that she turned him on and that was the real reason he didn’t want her around, didn’t trust himself with her around, didn’t want to be tempted when he couldn’t perform and was through with women for good, could she?

“I was standing outside the door when you were talking to your family. When you insisted they take you back with them and you said you didn’t need me.”

“I don’t remember that. I must have been delirious. Of course I need you. My family thinks you’re the greatest. Who am I to disagree?” What else could he say? He’d been trained all his life in etiquette and hospitality. Though he and his brother had been sent to boarding school in the U.S., his upbringing had been traditional. His parents had instilled in him the values of their family and their country such as loyalty and responsibility. He hadn’t always lived up to those values as his father often had occasion to remind him.

What possible reason could he give for objecting to her? That she was too attractive, too sexy in a subdued kind of way that got to him? That he didn’t trust himself around her? That he didn’t want to be humiliated around her? That he preferred to get well on his own without her watching and monitoring him every step of the way? No, he was resigned to staying here and having her around night and day. There was nothing he could do about it.

“Well, if you’re sure…” she said.

“What about you? Why in hell would you want to take me on with my obnoxious attitude? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I was looking for a challenge.”

“Hah. Well, sweetheart, you’ve got one.”

She pressed her lips together and her cheeks flushed. He’d said something to annoy her.

“You can call me Amanda or Nurse Reston but you can’t call me sweetheart. I’m a professional.”

So that was it. How could she know that being told he couldn’t do something was all the incentive he needed to do it anyway? “Of course you are, sweetheart,” he said.

Her eyes flashed. Damn, she was cute when she was mad. It only encouraged him to see what else he could say to bring color to her cheeks and sparkle to her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said. But he wasn’t and she knew it.

“I hear you don’t like hospital food. Can I bring you something from town? I’m on my way to dinner.”

“Alone?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“It was just a question. You’re not required to answer. But since we’re going to be living together, I don’t think we should have any secrets from each other.” As soon as he said those words, he regretted them. While he was intensely curious about her, he had no intention of sharing any of his secrets with her.

“I don’t agree. I think we need to establish a professional relationship. I believe I already told you that I’m new in town and therefore I will be eating alone tonight at the Japanese restaurant.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I was out of line. It’s none of my business who you eat with. If you really don’t mind, you could bring me something. Anything would be better than the slop they serve here.”

“All right.”

Even though it was none of his business who she ate with or whether she was married or engaged or whatever, he thought it was a good sign she was eating alone. What husband or fiancé in his right mind would let her go by herself to a new town and be forced to eat alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not that it mattered whether she was available or not. He wasn’t. He had sworn off women after Lisa’s accident. He would never take on the responsibility of a woman again. He would never set himself up to suffer like that again.

She nodded and stood up. “I’ll tell the nurses you don’t want a dinner tray and I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“This is embarrassing. I don’t have any money. They’ve taken away my ring and my watch and my wallet. But I’m good for it.”

She smiled. And what a smile. It warmed him more than all those hot compresses the therapist put on his hip. “I’m sure you are,” she said.

“You ought to do that more often,” he said.

“What, go out for Japanese food?”

“Smile.”

She stopped at the door and stared at him for a long thoughtful moment. Her smile faded. He would have given everything in his wallet to know what she was thinking. Their eyes met and held for a long time. In the background doctors were being paged. Carts were clattering down the hall. All the sounds that usually irritated him. Now he scarcely heard them. What or who had taken away her smile? Who or what could bring it back? A long time ago, when he was a man-about-town, he’d have considered it his personal challenge. But now he didn’t know if he had what it took.

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally and then she was gone. The room was empty again.

She did think about it. While all around her at various tables, apple-cheeked skiers in casual après-ski clothes laughed and talked and traded stories of what happened on the slopes that day, Amanda thought about the reason she didn’t smile much anymore. She thought how odd it was that a stranger had to point it out. Someone who didn’t know her. If he knew what had happened he would have told her she’d been a fool. He wasn’t worth suffering over. But Rahman didn’t know and she was not going to tell. There were secrets she didn’t intend to share with anyone, least of all him.

When she came back to the hospital with a foam box in a white paper bag from the restaurant in her hand she was stopped by the night nurse who informed her stiffly that visiting hours were over.

Amanda explained who she was and where she was going and got a shrug and a disapproving look in return.

“That man,” the nurse said huffily, “has been pushing his buzzer for the last hour. He wanted a phone, a TV, a pain pill and his wallet. I’m a nurse, not a servant. I’m all alone here on this floor. He’s not the only patient in this hospital. Who does he think he is anyway?”

Amanda bit back an angry retort. She should have hurried back. It was her fault he was left alone without the care he needed. She usually sympathized with nurses. She knew some patients were demanding. The sheik fell into that category at times. But she was also well aware that not all nurses were warm, sympathetic and caring. She tried to make allowances for burnout and fatigue, but this woman’s attitude annoyed her. She almost blurted, “That’s my patient you’re talking about.” She caught herself before she started to feel possessive about the sheik. She reminded herself he was just another patient. Just another sheik.

“You know he’s probably hungry and he’s tired and he’s impatient,” Amanda said. “I brought him something to eat.”

“Dinner is at five,” she sniffed. “The trays have come and gone.”

“I know, that’s why I…” Why bother to explain? This pinched-faced RN was of the old school that said everything had to be done by the book. Amanda felt bad she’d taken so long at dinner. She could imagine that lying there in bed watching the clock and waiting for dinner or a nurse to come could be agony. Though she’d never been hospitalized, she could certainly empathize. But the nurse who looked at her with a steely gaze, obviously couldn’t.

“I’m hungry, too,” the nurse said. “And tired, and I have eight hours to go.”

“I’m sorry. I know how it feels. I’ve worked a lot of night shifts.” Amanda knew it was not easy working alone at night. Being responsible for all those patients. With a doctor a phone call away anything could happen and often did.

When the nurse pointedly picked up her pencil and went back to work filling out forms, Amanda hurried down the hall to find that Sheik Rahman Harun had fallen asleep. She stood next to his bed feeling deflated that she’d let him down. He’d been waiting for her and she hadn’t made it back in time. The restaurant had been crowded and the service was slow. But he didn’t know that. He just knew she hadn’t shown up with his dinner as she’d promised.

She thought about waking him up, but she didn’t. He needed his sleep. But he needed food, too. His cheekbones were too prominent. She touched his shoulder. Smoothed his sheet. He frowned but he didn’t wake up. She stood there for a long time trying to decide what to do. She hadn’t realized how much she was looking forward to bringing him something and seeing him eat. Though she wasn’t looking forward to hearing him make any more outrageous pronouncements like, “I don’t think we should keep any secrets from each other.” She was unaccountably disappointed. But was she disappointed for his sake or hers?

Amanda had no intention of spilling any of her secrets to him. If she did, she could just imagine what he’d think of her. She couldn’t believe he’d share any secrets with her, either. Maybe he didn’t have any. Although there was that issue of his suffering “emotionally.” The remark he’d made was only to get her goat. At first he’d succeeded, now she realized she could talk back and he liked it. She liked it, too. If all went well, they might become friends. Friends. Was it possible to be a friend to a man like that? Time would tell.

He’d probably guessed she wasn’t engaged or married. That was going to come out in the wash anyway. But that was the extent of the secrets she was sharing. Period.

Rahman mumbled something in his sleep. Amanda bent over his bed to listen but he didn’t say any more. Only inches from his face, she brushed his dark thick hair back. She laid her hand on his forehead and kept it there. She told herself she would make him get well. She could do it. She knew she could. She willed him to sleep well, to sleep peacefully. She didn’t know how long she stayed there. She only knew his breathing slowed and sounded normal.

Some time later she stood and found her leg muscles stiff and cramped. She walked slowly back to the nurse’s station.

The nurse looked up at Amanda, glanced at her watch and frowned. Amanda set the bag with Rahman’s dinner on the counter and told her it was for her. The woman looked startled, then suspicious, then she grudgingly accepted it. Amanda muttered, “you’re welcome,” to herself as she walked out the front door of the hospital feeling frustrated and sorry for the overworked nurse and even sorrier for Rahman.

She went back out into the cold mountain air and drove to her motel room, took a hot bath, lay on her queen-size bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow night she’d be under the same roof as Rahman. Would he soon turn her into a crabby, cranky nurse, annoyed and resentful every time he rang for her on the house intercom? Or would she get too emotionally involved in nursing him back to health? She couldn’t let that happen. It was better that she turn into a hag who barked orders. He wasn’t the only one who needed to be nursed back to health.

As Rahman noticed, she didn’t have a ready smile except for rare occasions. But she’d come here to make a fresh start. She’d do what she could within the bounds of her profession and then send him back to San Francisco. And then what? What would she do? She didn’t see herself working at that hospital. Was it too small after living and working in the fast lane? What about Rosie and her life? How could Amanda have what she had? A career, a husband and two adorable children.

She reminded herself that her goals were much more modest than that. To fall asleep at night without dreaming of the arrogant doctor she’d left behind. To face each day with some kind of enthusiasm instead of dread. To regain the joy of helping others get well, to remember why she’d become a nurse in the first place. If she could accomplish that much, the trip would have been worthwhile.

She repeated these goals like a mantra and finally she did fall asleep and she did not dream at all. That in itself was a blessing and worth the price of the airline ticket.

The next day, there was so much activity at the hospital that Amanda didn’t have time for second thoughts about this unusual assignment. Rahman’s family was there and greeted her warmly. They hovered over him in his room while Amanda conferred with doctors and nurses, the pharmacist and the therapist. She spoke to everyone in sight except for Rahman. She saw him only briefly and only from a distance. She felt his eyes on her. She saw him frown. She knew she owed him an explanation about dinner. She wanted to apologize, but she never got a chance. She went around and make appointments with the therapist and his doctor to come to the house. An orderly pushed Rahman in his wheelchair to the curb where an ambulance was waiting.

He wasn’t happy to see the ambulance. She could tell by the way he said, “Where’s the car…? What the hell…” in an angry voice that carried to where she was standing at the glass doors to the hospital.

There was continued chaos at the house they called their ski cabin. Workmen were building a ramp to the back door like the one in front. The therapist was installing a massage table in the ballroom along with some parallel bars. The housekeeper introduced herself and said that dinner was at seven. Family members wandered in and out, conferring with each other in hushed voices as if they were at a wake.

Amanda and the orderly maneuvered Rahman into his hospital bed in the room that used to be a study. Two whole walls were lined with books, the other two had windows with views of the lake and the mountains. There was a fireplace with a fire already laid. How could Rahman object to staying there? A view, a fireplace and a housekeeper, too. But Amanda knew what he wanted. What every patient wanted. To get back his old life, the one he’d had before the accident.