Читать книгу The Cop - Jan Hudson, Jan Hudson - Страница 8

Shortly after lunch Kelly tapped on Cole’s bedroom door. The biggest and burliest of the hospital’s physical therapists stood behind her with a wheelchair.

When the door opened, Cole scowled at her. “What are you doing here?”

He still hadn’t shaved, and he had on well-worn gray sweats that looked even worse than the ones he’d worn the day before. On his feet were a pair of fleece-lined moccasins that looked like something his mother might have bought him—or that Wes had received for Christmas sometime.

“We’ve come to move you to your new digs,” Kelly said, smiling brightly. “Are you packed?”

He glanced to a black duffel bag on the bed. “Not much to pack, but I’ve been ready since daylight. My brothers are supposed to come by when Frank gets out of court.”

He frowned at the therapist. “Who are you?”

“Dan Robert Thurston, sir.” The therapist offered his hand, and Cole shook it. “Thought I’d give you a ride down.” He motioned to the wheelchair. “Hop in and buckle up.”

“Down the stairs? In that?”

“Dan Robert’s a pro. It’s a piece of cake for him,” Kelly said. “Not only is he a physical therapist, he’s a weight lifter.”

Cole didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and sat in the lightweight chair. Dan Robert strapped him in while Kelly collected the duffel and the walker from Cole’s room. In a couple of minutes, they were downstairs.

“You make this seem easy,” Cole said.

“It is easy,” Dan Robert said, “with a little experience. It’s more a matter of leverage than muscle. Shoot, they even got machines now that you can attach to wheelchairs and climb stairs by yourself.”

“Why haven’t I heard about them?” Cole asked.

Kelly grinned. “It’s the sort of information you get if you’re in physical therapy.” She ignored his rude snort.

Miss Nonie bustled over as they passed through the shop. “Are you sure you’ll be all right alone, son?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

“Your dad and I will be over tonight with your supper. Is there anything else you need?”

“Not a thing,” Cole said. “And don’t worry about my supper. I’ll order a pizza or something.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Nonie,” Kelly said. “Mary Beth plans to leave a plate from lunch in the fridge. He won’t starve.” She waved as they went outside and loaded into her car, Cole in the passenger seat and Dan Robert in the back.

When she pulled away and turned left, Cole said, “Aren’t we going the wrong way to the Twilight Inn?”

“Nope. I have to drop Dan Robert by the hospital, and we thought while we were there that you could go in with him and have your physical therapy session.”

Cole cocked an eyebrow at her. “Who is we?”

“Think of it as the imperial ‘we,”’ she said with a flutter of her hand. After a few moments of silence, she said, “What? No argument?”

He shrugged. “Would it do any good?”

“Not a bit.”

Dan Robert made a slight choking sound from the back seat.

When they stopped at the hospital entrance, Kelly said to Cole, “I’ll pick you up here in an hour.”

“Don’t you have patients to see?”

“It’s my afternoon off. I’ll…be…back.”

Cole started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. She could see his molars getting a workout.

COLE HAD BEEN RIGHT, Kelly thought. He hadn’t had much to pack. In the duffel she found the sweats from the day before, four pairs of pajamas, a robe, some ratty underwear and three pairs of white and two pairs of gray socks. Besides his shaving kit, two paperback novels—and her forgotten jacket of all things—that was it. Why did he have her jacket in his bag?

She shrugged and checked the sizes of his few belongings. Obviously the man needed some clothes. At least some more sweats to knock around in. Easy on and easy off, they would be simple to manage.

By the time she drove to the hospital door an hour later, she’d been able to do a fair amount of shopping. Dan Robert was just wheeling Cole out the door as she pulled up. Cole looked exhausted.

“Tired?” she asked when he was settled in the front seat.

He merely nodded.

By the time they reached the Twilight Inn, he was sound asleep. He looked so peaceful that she hated to wake him, so she sat in front of the manager’s apartment and let him sleep.

B.D., one of the four old fellows who worked at the motel and played dominoes in the office, came outside to check. Kelly held her fingers to her lips and shook her head, and he ducked back inside.

While Cole slept, she studied him. In the way that sleep softens features, his had modified to more a boyish cast, but he still looked far from innocent. He was a handsome man, but he reminded her more of a battle-scarred gladiator than a romantic Lancelot. The creases bisecting his forehead, though relaxed, were permanently etched there, and his jaw was clenched—probably a permanent state, as well.

An old scar carved a crescent on his left cheekbone, and another furrowed through his beard at his chin. His nose looked as if it had been rearranged a couple of times, and a lone pockmark faintly pitted his cheek an inch below the thick, dark sweep of lashes. The scar was probably the result of childhood chicken pox or adolescent acne, and it made him somehow seem more…vulnerable. Well, maybe not vulnerable.

The whole package that was Cole Outlaw made her toes curl and her fingers itch to run themselves through the waves of his thick hair and over the planes of his face and—

She squirmed in the seat and turned her attention to a mockingbird sitting on a power line. What was with her? Good Lord, she felt as giddy as a high school girl.

After about twenty minutes, Kelly gently shook Cole awake.

He sat up with a start, instantly alert and scowling.

“We’re home,” she announced in her perkiest voice.

“Home?”

“The Twilight Inn.”

“The old place looks a lot different from the last time I saw it.”

“Which was?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe five, ten years ago. It was a dump.”

“It was boarded up and falling down when Mary Beth started renovations last spring. A lot of folks pitched in and helped. Now it’s a charming little motel,” she said, motioning to the row of neatly painted units with yellow chrysanthemums still blooming in the window boxes. “And the restaurant has been refurbished as well. Mary Beth serves the best lunch in town.”

“No breakfast or dinner?”

“Nope,” she said, “but I bought some breakfast items at the grocery store, and one of the guys will bring you an extra meal at lunch to stash in the fridge for dinner.”

She hopped out and got the wheelchair from the trunk. By the time she got to the passenger door, Cole was struggling to get out.

When he saw her with the chair, he waved her away. “If you’ll hand me my walker, I can make it in.”

“Humor me this time and let me push.”

He started to argue, then clamped his mouth shut and sat down in the wheelchair. They hadn’t gone three steps when the office door opened and the four old guys spilled out.

“Land sakes,” one of them said, sticking out his hand to Cole. “I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age. Bet you don’t remember me.”

“I sure do, Howard, but it looks like you’ve lost a little more on top.”

Howard cackled and ran his hand over a head covered only by a few liver spots and a pink patch or two. “That’s for sure. Then you probably remember B.D. and Curtis and Will here.”

After Cole shook hands with all the men, Will said, “Need some help getting in?”

“I have some things in the back seat and in the trunk,” Kelly said.

“You supervise the unloading,” B.D. told Kelly, “and I’ll roll Cole inside.” B.D. was wisp thin and looked as if a powder puff could knock him over. When Cole appeared concerned about the prospect of an eightysomething guy pushing him, the old fellow must have caught the wary expression. He patted Cole’s shoulder and said, “Don’t you worry none, son. I’ve handled one of these contraptions more times than you can shake a stick at.”

He proceeded to expertly wheel Cole into the office unit while the other domino players brought the rest of the items from Kelly’s car.

The apartment behind the office was more like a small suite: two rooms, one with a kitchenette in the corner, and a bathroom. The main room, which had been Mary Beth’s, held only a few pieces of furniture including a sofa and a large leather recliner. Cole settled in the recliner, and Kelly stood his walker next to it.

“There you go,” Howard said, setting the last of the grocery bags on a small table in the kitchen corner. “We’ll get on about our game. You need anything, Cole, just give a holler.”

“I’ll do it, Howard. Thank you.”

“You might have to holler twice,” Will said with a wink. “Couple of us are a mite hard of hearing.”

“He don’t have to holler,” Curtis said. “All he has to do is push that little button right there.” Curtis pointed out the intercom on the phone base beside Cole.

After the old fellows said their goodbyes and left, Kelly took off her sweater and draped it over the back of a chair in the kitchen nook. She stowed the perishables in the small fridge and the other groceries in a cabinet under the microwave, listing the items to Cole as she worked.

“You should have plenty for a simple breakfast and for snacks.” She picked up another large shopping bag. “And I bought you some new sweats and things—without holes.” She grinned.

He glanced down at his shirt where the “HPD PIGS” across the chest was faded almost to oblivion. “You don’t like my football outfit?”

“It’s charming, but I think it’s nearing retirement.” She stashed the new clothes in the chest by the bathroom door. “Your pajamas are in the top drawer here.”

“I don’t wear pajamas.”

Her heart tripped. She didn’t dare look at him. “You have several pair.”

“My mom bought them.”

“Oh.” She closed the drawer and turned. Playing perky again, she said, “Let’s see. The bedroom is through there. The bathroom is here. I put your shaving kit on the counter. The fridge and the microwave and the coffeepot are over there. The remote for the TV is on the table beside you with the phone. I guess that about covers it.” Why was she babbling? She took a deep breath. “Want something to drink?”

“Yeah. A beer would be nice.”

“Sorry. No beer with the medication you’re on. You may have Coke, cream soda, milk, orange juice, apple juice, tomato juice or water. Or coffee. And Mary Beth left a big plate of brownies.”

“A cup of coffee would taste good. And the whole plate of brownies. Join me?”

“Only if I can have two brownies,” she said as she poured water into the coffeemaker. “I’m a sucker for chocolate.”

“I’ll arm wrestle you for them.”

She laughed. “Don’t look so smug. I’m stronger than I look. I could probably take you two out of three.”

His playfulness vanished. “In the condition I’m in, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Fighting the urge to sigh, Kelly said, “Don’t use that as an excuse, buster. I could probably take you on your best day.”

There was a flicker at the corner of his mouth. “Okay. I’ll let you have a brownie.”

“Two.”

“Okay, two. I’m easy.”

She doubted that. Her instincts told her that nothing about Cole Outlaw was easy. While the coffee dripped, Kelly curled up on the couch. “How did the therapy go?”

Cole shrugged. He shrugged a lot. He didn’t seem to be much of a talker.

“Your dad said that either he or one of the domino guys will drive you to your appointments.”

“He told me. You’re not from around here are you, Red?”

She shook her head. “I’m originally from Dallas. And my name is Kelly.”

“How’d you get from Dallas to Naconiche?”

“I drove.”

Cole let out a short bark of laughter. “Let me rephrase that…Kelly. What happened between the time you were a kid in Dallas and your arriving in Naconiche as a doctor?”

“You want the long version or the short?”

“Let’s start with the short, and we’ll flesh it out later.”

“Well, I grew up in Dallas.”

“Big family?”

“I had a younger sister, but she died when I was in junior high. Leukemia.”

“Parents?”

“One of each,” she said. “My mom is president of a bank, and my dad is a biology professor at SMU.”

His eyebrows went up. “Interesting. Did you go to SMU?”

“Nope. I went to the University of Texas. Your brother Frank’s fiancée and I were sorority sisters there. How about you?”

“I never joined a sorority.”

Kelly smiled. “I meant where did you go to school?”

“Sam Houston in Huntsville. It has the best criminal justice department in the state. Why did you decide to become a doctor?”

“I’m not sure. Probably because I was always good at science, and I wanted to help people. Maybe losing my little sister had something to do with it.” She got up and poured coffee and brought the brownies over to where they were sitting. “Why did you become a cop?”

“It’s in the genes. All the Outlaws are cops of one sort or another.”

“I haven’t read anything in the research that suggests career choice is genetic.” She polished off her first brownie and reached for another. “These are good. Mary Beth is a great cook.”

“Yep. J.J.’s a lucky man. How did you get from sorority girl to doctor to here?”

“I went to medical school in Houston and did my internship and residency there and stayed on to work for a while. I learned that one of the doctors in Naconiche was retiring, and I applied to work with him and take his place. And here I am.”

“You never married?”

“Nope. I never had time. You?”

“Once. It didn’t take. I learned I’m not the marrying kind.”

For some reason Kelly’s heart sank, which was silly. She barely knew the man. And as soon as he was rehabilitated, he’d go back to Houston. Nothing about him indicated that he was a candidate for a relationship. Still, she had a mighty urge to swan dive into those marvelous, mysterious eyes.

She stood. “I’ve got to run. You need to rest, and I have to check on a couple of patients at the hospital. Need anything before I go?”

“Not a thing. Say, I want to pay you for the stuff you bought, but I don’t have any money or a checkbook. You take a credit card?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I charged the clothes to you at Olsen’s, and the groceries are on me.”

“Thanks, Red.”

“Kelly.”

“Kelly. Come back and visit sometime.”

“I will.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It’s a promise.”

As soon as she left Kelly realized that she’d left her sweater behind. Oh, blast it! Now both her jacket and her sweater were there. Freudian slip? An excuse to return? Maybe. Cole was an intriguing man, and she couldn’t deny that she was affected by him. She would drop by tomorrow night after aerobics class and pick up her forgotten items.

COLE DECIDED he wanted another cup of coffee, but he quickly learned that he couldn’t carry a full mug and navigate with it and the walker back to the recliner. He cursed and drank the coffee standing up. When he finished he noticed the brown sweater hanging on the back of the straight chair.

He picked the soft garment up and sniffed it. A faint scent of spices and field flowers. The material smelled of her—just like the jacket she’d left behind. He hung the sweater over his walker and moved back to his recliner to sit down. Wadding the sweater in both hands, he buried his face in it and breathed deeply. He was bone tired, but not too tired to imagine what it would feel like to have the woman under the fabric. He felt himself stir.

Oh, hell! he thought, disgusted with his behavior. Now that he was a cripple, he was turning into one of those perverts who got off on fetishes. He started to throw the sweater across the room, but he couldn’t quite make himself let go. He dropped it across his lap and reached for another brownie.