Читать книгу Surgeon Boss, Surprise Dad - Janice Lynn, Janice Lynn - Страница 7

CHAPTER ONE

ASHES to ashes. Dust to dust.

The preacher’s words blurred in Liz’s mind like a hazy cloud.

She couldn’t believe Gramps was really gone, that she’d never again look into those twinkling sky-blue eyes, never hear him call for his “Liza girl” or hear his laughter. Not ever. A tear slid down her cheek.

Not that there had been much laughter over the past two years. There hadn’t. Gramps’s congestive heart failure had seen to that. His condition had been worsened by dementia near the end and she’d never known if she’d see recognition in his eyes or not. But those occasional glimmers, those few lucid moments had kept her going.

As much as her heart ached that he was gone, as much as she’d miss him, relief also washed over her. Never had she begrudged caring for her grandfather. Goodness knew, he’d cared for her when no one else had. But working full time as a registered nurse and coming home to relieve the hired nurse each night wore on a person’s resolve, their sleep, their mental and emotional state. Still, she’d have done it endlessly if it had meant Gramps getting better.

Only he hadn’t, and she’d known that no matter how much she did, she’d only been delaying the inevitable. Each day she’d seen him slip further away from the vital man he’d once been. She’d watched him long for death and eventually let go to the disease that had claimed his life.

Thank goodness for Adam. Without him she’d never have stayed sane these past few months.

Dr Adam Cline had been by her side, understanding when she’d cut their dates short if Sara, Gramps’s hired nurse, had called, understanding why she hadn’t been able to stay the night at his place, understanding why their relationship could never progress. She’d promised Gramps she wouldn’t put him in a nursing home as long as she could care for him, and she hadn’t. Somehow between she and Adam they’d managed to keep him at home.

She’d never expected Adam to take on the care of her seriously ill grandfather, but in many ways Adam had. He’d been wonderful.

Was wonderful.

She glanced at the tall, dark-haired man sitting next to her on the hard wooden pew. His strong fingers held her trembling ones while the preacher continued his moving eulogy. Her heart pinched at the tenderness with which Adam’s thumb caressed her palm in gentle, comforting circles.

She squeezed his hand, hoping to convey how much it meant that he was at her grandfather’s funeral. He’d confessed long ago to an aversion to funerals. She’d assured him she’d be OK and understood. Yet here he was for her to lean on, albeit tight-faced, making sure she managed through what she considered to be the hardest thing she’d ever gone through.

Much harder than when her mother had left for whatever had appealed more than her young daughter. Much harder than several years back when she’d been notified the father she’d never known had died in a motor vehicle accident.

Losing Gramps was like losing a part of herself because he’d loved her, raised her, encouraged and nurtured her to be the woman she’d become. She’d loved him with her whole heart.

Now he was gone.

Time crawled as the funeral services concluded and the guests relocated to the graveside for a final farewell.

Weariness swept over Liz, tugging at her already exhausted body, but she kept her chin high and her shoulders straight as she paid her last respects to the grandfather she’d loved.

More tears pricked her eyes when she tossed the first handful of dirt onto the lowered casket. She turned, grateful to find Adam’s broad shoulders waiting for her. She buried her face. His arms went around her, holding her close.

“Shh, sweetheart, he’s in a better place.”

She remained in his arms long enough to pull herself together, then wiped at her eyes. “I know.”

Gramps was in a better place. Had to be. Those last few weeks he hadn’t known who she was, had only registered that he couldn’t breathe. He’d literally been drowning in his own body fluids, and no amount of diuretics had eased his suffering.

She sniffled, then received the line-up of graveside mourners. Gramps hadn’t been social for years and had outlived most of his friends from younger days so most in attendance were her coworkers and friends. Adam’s hand pressed into her lower back, providing the comfort she needed to accept each well-meant condolence, each heartfelt hug.

Her friend Kelly hovered close, keeping a watchful eye and offering her support repeatedly. A girl couldn’t ask for a better friend, but at the moment Liz just wanted to curl into a lonely ball and cry at the loss of her grandfather.

By the time Adam assisted her into his luxurious two-seater, she practically dropped onto the plush seat. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so drained mentally, emotionally, or physically, not even after pulling a double shift.

Now she’d go home to a house filled with reminders of Gramps, filled with a hospital bed in her living room because there hadn’t been room for his bed and equipment in either of the two tiny bedrooms. Plus, she’d liked him being able to look out the windows at the small flower garden she kept well tended even if it meant getting up at the crack of dawn to do so.

Gramps had loved roses, said they reminded him of her grandmother. Even after he’d forgotten most everything, he’d lie in his bed and stare at the blooms outside the window for hours. Liz was pretty sure better times had filled his thoughts, times when his body and mind had been strong, and he’d been happy.

“You OK?” Adam asked before sliding his key into the ignition.

She took a deep breath. Time to start letting go, to cherish her memories of her grandfather rather than aching over her loss. She could do this. “Just really tired.”

Adam paused from reversing the car out of the parking place to look at her. Tension marred the handsome lines of his face. What did those all too intense eyes of his see?

“It’s been a long couple of days,” he finally said, easing the car out of the lot. “You’ve not slept enough to count.”

True. She’d barely closed her eyes since the moment she’d tried to resuscitate Gramps and failed. Had it only been early Sunday morning?

“There’ll be plenty of time for sleep now that Gramps is gone.” She tried not to sniffle at the words. At the reality her life had become a whole lot less complicated three days ago. And very empty. Panic seized her chest, and she fought another wave of tears. “What am I going to do without him?”

“You’ll get by.” Adam shot her an empathetic look. “One day at a time. With each day that passes the pain will be a little more bearable. Life will go on, Liz. I promise.”

One day at a time. In her head, she knew he was right, but her heart didn’t want right. Her heart wanted her grandfather.

“I miss him already.”

He nodded in understanding. “The house won’t be the same without him.”

“I wish you’d met him before he got so sick,” she mused.

Adam was everything her grandfather admired in a man. Everything she admired in a man, for that matter. He’d been so good to her during Gramps’s illness.

“He was such a joy.” Her voice broke. “The best gramps who ever lived.”

“Not that you’re biased.” His gaze softened, full of compassion, before returning to the road.

“Of course not,” she agreed, smiling at him through her tears and counting her blessings that she had Adam to see her through this horrible time.

Adam hated seeing Liz so devastated, but they’d known for months this day would come. Actually, Gramps had held on much longer than he, Liz, or any of numerous doctors had ever thought possible.

Then again, Gramps had had a fabulous nurse who’d loved her grandfather very much and had refused to let him go. This last time she hadn’t been able to pull off another medical miracle.

Personally, Adam thought Gramps had longed for the release death had offered his broken body and mind. He’d occasionally caught a pleading glimmer in the old man’s eyes, a glimmer that begged Adam to convince Liz to let him go, to give her a reason to move on beyond trying to mend the unfixable.

Her red-rimmed eyes tore at his heart, making him long for the ability to ease her sorrows. As a doctor he dealt with death routinely. In many ways he’d hardened himself to bereavement, but seeing Liz so upset, so unlike her usual unflappable self, got to him. First hand, from losing his parents, he knew only time would chip away at the horrendous pain in her heart, but if possible he’d move heaven and earth to put the light back into her eyes.

Ignoring the zig-zag of pain at his right temple, he pulled onto the highway, heading toward town. The cemetery where Gramps had been buried next to Liz’s grandmother was located about twenty miles outside the city limits. He wanted to get Liz home, feed her, and put her to bed. She looked ready to drop and the pain in his head refused to ease.

“The house is going to seem so quiet,” she mused from where she sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window at cornfields filled with a bumper crop thanks to all the rain they’d had so far this Mississippi summer.

“I’ll stay with you,” he immediately offered. He’d stayed the previous two nights. The first, he’d sat with her on the tiny loveseat that served as the only sitting area in her crowded living room. He’d held her while she’d talked about Gramps, while she’d cried, while she’d napped for a few short hours just before dawn. Last night, he’d stayed on the sofa while forcing her to bed. He wasn’t sure she’d slept any more than she had the previous night, but at least she’d made it to bed. Of course, when he’d awakened early this morning, she’d been curled next to him, eyeing Gramps’s hospital bed.

She nodded. “I’d like that. I don’t want to be by myself.”

No way would he leave her to face tonight alone.

Then again, if she went back to her place, all Gramps’s things were just as she’d left them, just as they’d been on the day the old man had died. Liz wouldn’t sleep. She’d sit in the living room, staring at that empty hospital bed.

In testament to how troubled she was she didn’t notice when he drove past the turn-off leading to the small frame house her grandfather had lived in for more than fifty years. Her hands rested in her lap and she looked ghostly pale.

“I’ll stop and pick us up some take-out on the drive home. I’ve not seen you eat a bite.”

She grimaced, shaking her head. “I don’t think I can eat anything. I’m sure it’s nerves, but the thought of food makes me want to throw up.”

“You need to eat.”

“I will, but not right now. I just want to lie down and close my eyes to reality for a while.”

She’d barely nibbled at a few crackers yesterday. Less than that today. He didn’t like her lack of appetite, but perhaps she was too exhausted to eat. He’d get some of the soup his cleaning lady had left him on her last visit and convince Liz to eat at least a little.

“Where are we?” she asked, pushing a strand of her dark hair away from her face and becoming aware that they’d long passed her street.

“I’m taking you to my place. You’ll rest better.”

“But I…” She paused. “You’re right. I really don’t want to face that empty hospital bed.”

He’d known, just like he knew so much about the woman in the car with him. For the past year she’d been a constant part of his life.

That was a year longer than any other woman.

Since he’d had no intention of committing to anything beyond his career for many years to come, he hadn’t thought it fair to become involved. Sure, he’d dated, but always with a clear understanding.

Liz had been different. She hadn’t been looking for marriage and children either. She’d already been a hundred percent committed to caring for her grandfather and no relationship would change that.

She’d been safe.

Not that he’d meant to date her, to become part of a couple with her, but from the moment they’d met he and Liz had hit it off. She was funny, intelligent, and sexy as hell. Without him realizing what had been happening, she had become more and more entrenched in his life until he couldn’t imagine not having her smile brighten his day.

With Liz he’d found himself wanting marriage, children, all the things he’d once found superfluous to his medical career. Had she been free, he’d have begged her to walk down the aisle with him, to be his wife, the mother of his children.

But Liz’s priority had been to her grandfather and he’d understood that. Understood and loved her all the more for her loyalty and big heart.

All the reasons hindering their relationship from moving forward had dissipated the moment Gramps had taken his last breath.

Another sharp pain cut through Adam’s temple, momentarily blurring his vision and reminding him that perhaps not all the reasons were gone. A pain that had become more and more familiar over the past two weeks, as had the blurred vision.

So familiar that he’d seen a family physician friend of his to get a prescription for a headache medication on Friday.

Only his friend had been concerned his symptoms were more than just stress-induced. Particularly when upon being questioned Adam had admitted to feeling tired and having had muscle cramps recently. Larry had scheduled Adam for fasting bloodwork and a magnetic resonance imaging—MRI—scan of the brain on Monday. Only Adam had rescheduled the tests because of Gramps’s death.

Surely Larry was being overly cautious?

But Adam couldn’t suppress the niggle of fear that his friend was right. Something more was going on inside his body. Something bad.

Something that Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Had he not been driving, he would have closed his eyes.

“What are you thinking?” Liz interrupted his thoughts, causing him to glance her way. She’d quit staring out the car window and watched him with her soulful brown eyes.

“Just hoping I left the place clean,” he prevaricated. Now was not the time to tell Liz about the symptoms he’d been having. She already had enough to worry about.

“Mrs Evans keeps your condo immaculate and you’re a neat freak of the worst kind, Adam.” Her lips hinted at a smile. “I’d be highly shocked to find your underwear strewn around.”

“That’s because you visit after Mrs Evans has been there,” he warned, pleased at the smile on her pale but beautiful face. Neither the dark circles ringing her eyes nor their red puffiness could hide Liz’s beauty. She radiated from the inside with a natural exquisiteness he found irresistible.

Adam stared out at the road, squinted to clear his right eye of its haze. Unsuccessfully.

What if something bad was wrong with him?

He’d seen the concern on Larry’s face and he hadn’t even revealed his other symptoms to his friend.

Somehow saying out loud that his surgeon hands had gone numb for a few minutes last week, that at times pins and needles prickled his fingertips and that had been the real catalyst to his visit to Larry, seemed to make his symptoms all so much more real.

No, he hadn’t admitted to anyone that his internal circuits had seemed to be going haywire from time to time over the past two weeks. Not even to himself.