Читать книгу Nyc Angels & Gold Coast Angels Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 31

LEANING BACK IN her chair and staring at the computer screen, Eleanor brushed a loose hair away from her face. Her entire body ached with fatigue and she’d been fighting nausea all morning.

She’d been at the hospital since about 4:00 a.m. Not that she’d been sleeping much since the night she’d spent with Ty. Sleep evaded her and when she did finally drift into sleep, memories haunted her dreams.

She rubbed tight muscles in her neck and left shoulder, forcing herself to quit thinking about Ty yet again. She’d survived five weeks without him and she’d survive the rest of her life, too. She just needed to focus on one day at a time, focus on work.

Rochelle wasn’t doing well. The tiny little girl had taken a turn for the worse and nothing Eleanor did seemed to be making a difference.

She studied the baby’s chart, looking for anything she might have missed, anything she could try that she hadn’t tried already.

There wasn’t a logical reason why Rochelle had taken a turn for the worse. The baby had been getting a little stronger each day and then she’d just stopped.

The baby’s father hadn’t been to see his tiny daughter, was still grieving the loss of his wife and couldn’t bear becoming attached to a baby he felt certain wasn’t going to live. Eleanor had called him, told him that she was concerned about Rochelle’s sudden failure to thrive and that she wasn’t sure if they were going to be able to turn the baby’s prognosis around. She’d asked him to come to the hospital, but he hadn’t made any false promises.

“I heard you were still here.”

Eleanor’s heart jerked, slamming hard against her rib cage. She hadn’t heard Ty walk up to where she worked in the small, private dictation room.

“You not talking to me?”

Taking a deep breath, she glanced up from the computer screen she’d pretended to study to keep from looking at him. She wanted to look so badly it scared her. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. Perhaps never having been the center of all that sexy Texan charm would have been better.

“Sorry,” she said slowly, thinking about each syllable in the hope of preventing a stutter. “Just thinking.”

“About Rochelle?”

About anything and everything to keep from thinking about him. But she wasn’t about to admit how much she’d missed him when he’d obviously not missed her, had obviously moved on with his life, with her not having made a speed bump’s worth of difference.

So she told him about the tiny baby girl who she feared had taken a turn for the worse she wouldn’t pull back from. “She’s dropped weight over the past week.”

Ty sank down in the chair next to hers, stretched out his long legs. “I thought she’d pull through. That she was going to be a success story.”

He was so close. Close enough she could smell the spicy clean scent of him. Close enough that his body heat radiated toward her. Close enough that all she had to do was reach out to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.

She swallowed. Hard. “Me, too.”

In silence, he studied the baby’s record. “You’ve done everything possible.”

She knew that the very nature of what they did meant they wouldn’t always be successful. “I just keep thinking I’ve missed something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“Maybe it’s more who you’ve missed rather than what.”

Her breath catching in her throat, her gaze jerked toward him. “I haven’t missed you.”

Much.

She’d missed him like crazy.

She’d relived every touch shared between Ty and herself, and had cried more tears than she cared to recall.

“Darlin’, for the record, I was referring to Rochelle’s father.” The corner of Ty’s mouth twitched, but she wasn’t sure if it was with annoyance or an almost smile.

She felt his gaze on her, but she refused to meet his eyes. She just couldn’t. “Oh.”

“But since you’ve brought up the subject of missing me—”

“Perhaps you misunderstood,” she interrupted, feeling sweat pop out on the back of her neck. “I said I hadn’t missed you.”

“Perhaps we should discuss just how much you haven’t missed me.”

“What?” She squinted at him from behind her glasses. “That makes no sense.”

“About as much sense as you avoiding me the past few weeks.”

Maybe she should take pity on him. After all, he had attempted to talk to her a few times in the NICU when their paths had crossed, but his expression had seemed so forced, his conversation so stilted and underlying with anger that she’d wanted cry. So she’d held fast, avoided him, refusing to become just another woman Ty loved and left by beating him to the punch and keeping distance between them.

“I didn’t see you seeking out my company,” she pointed out, knowing she probably sounded accusatory.

“Did you want me to seek out your company?”

Had she?

“No.”

“Would you have granted me your company if I’d sought you out? Because I got the distinct impression that you wouldn’t.” He sighed, took her hand in his and studied their locked fingers. “I’m here to find out if you’re still going to Texas with me next week.”

She’d wondered if he’d want her to, but then had written off the possibility as crazy. Of course he wouldn’t want her there. Not after what they’d done. Not after five weeks of awkwardness between them. When she couldn’t do more than stutter and blush around him.

“I could see why you might want to reconsider our agreement, but I did keep my end of the deal, which means you owe me.”

He really expected her to go with him? Why did that secretly thrill her as much as it scared her? Because she’d missed him and felt desperate for his attention? Lord, she hoped that wasn’t it, but feared it just might be.

“Well,” she began, glancing toward the computer screen and focusing on a random word, “technically, it was a deal between you and my father, but a deal is a deal, so I really have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice. If you don’t want to go with me, I won’t hold you to it.”

That got her attention. “Is that your way of telling me you don’t really want me to go?”

His expression darkening, he shook his head. “If I didn’t want you to go, would I be here talking to you? I want you to go.”

What was one weekend with Ty in the grand scheme of life? She could do this. She’d prove to herself and to him that she could do this and then they’d go back to being just colleagues. Plus, maybe the awkwardness would disappear. “I’ll go.”

“Hey, Dr. Aston?” With a quick rap on the open door Linda poked her head into the dictation room. “I think you’ll want to see this.” Noticing Ty sitting next to Eleanor, she added, “That you will both want to see.”

Silently, they followed the nurse, pausing just outside the nursery.

“Look who stopped by for a visit,” Linda whispered excitedly. “Apparently whatever you said to him when you called made all the difference.”

Eleanor’s heart quickened at the site of Rochelle’s father standing next to his tiny daughter’s incubator. It was the first time he’d seen her.

Ty grinned. “I always did think you were one smart woman, Ellie.”

Her breath caught at the use of the nickname and she found herself wishing she really did take his breath away each and every time he called her that name. Ellie. How crazy that rather than flinching at the nickname, she wanted to grab the moment and hold it close to her heart?

She cleared her throat. “Babies are smarter than we give them credit for. Rochelle needs her father.”

They watched as he gowned, gloved, masked and eyed his baby girl in the incubator. He spoke in a low voice to the little girl. The glistening emotion in his eyes told Eleanor everything he was saying without her being able to hear his actual words.

This was what Rochelle needed. What no tube or medicine or surgical correction could give. She needed her father, the interaction between parent and child.

As if sensing that he was being watched, the man turned, his gaze meeting Eleanor’s. “Can I hold her?”

Yes! was all Eleanor could think. Oh, yes! Rochelle needed her father to bond with her, to hold and love her.

Eleanor joined him at the incubator, aware that Ty stayed just a couple of feet back. She gently went over the proper way for Rochelle’s father to hold her, then she prepared the baby to be removed from the isolette.

“If you want to sit in one of the rocking chairs, I’ll bring her to you.”

Looking uncertain, the man nodded, then did as she’d asked.

“Oh, Rochelle, honey,” she told the sweet baby girl. “Today is the day you’ve been waiting for since you were born. Today you met your daddy and now he’s going to hold you and fall hopelessly in love with you.”

“You want me to get a bottle to let him try to feed her?” Ty asked from beside her, helping to straighten a wire as Eleanor repositioned the baby.

She glanced at him, smiled. “That would be perfect. She’s not been taking much by mouth for the past few days, only by her feeding tube, but maybe, just maybe, today is a day for miracles.”

She unhooked what could be unhooked, bundled the babe up and with Ty’s assistance they brought the baby to the waiting father.

“You won’t go far, will you?” he asked, his eyes full of fear when Eleanor lowered the baby into his arms.

“No, Dr. Donaldson and I will be close. No worries,” she assured him, understanding his anxiety as many parents of preemies experienced those same fears. Rochelle’s dad probably more so than most as he’d waited weeks to see his daughter. No doubt the man was terrified that his coming here might somehow jinx his baby girl’s chances. “If anything changes, we will be right here.”

Ty watched the pleased smile spread across Eleanor’s face and wondered at the pleasure spreading through him. Of course he was happy that Rochelle’s father had finally come to visit his baby girl. But the wonder spreading through him had more to do with the woman he watched.

“Look,” Ellie whispered, grabbing his shoulder, her voice breaking with emotion.

Ty’s attention returned to Rochelle and her father. The man held the little girl awkwardly, but his eyes were filled with awe, with love.

With unshed tears.

“He’s talking to her. I wish I could hear what he’s saying,” Ellie continued, her voice low, full of just as much emotion as Rochelle’s father’s.

Ty could almost feel the excitement bubbling through her.

“They’re bonding.”

Ellie glanced at him, smiled beatifically. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Her smile was wonderful.

Her touch on his shoulder.

The light in her eyes.

He’d missed her.

Something in Ty’s chest shifted, blossomed, and he realized that if she’d said no to going to Texas, he’d have talked her into it.

He wanted her with him, wanted to show her his family home, introduce her to his family and, more than anything, he wanted her at his side during the weekend. He’d have begged her to go if that was what it would have taken.

That thought worried him almost as much as the thought of seeing his father again did.

On a plane.

With Tyler Donaldson.

On the way to his family’s ranch in Swallow Creek, Texas.

Not feeling a hundred percent as she was fighting a nervous stomach.

How were they going to get through the next few days?

Those were the thoughts running through Eleanor’s mind while she pretended to be asleep in the first-class airline seat next to Tyler’s.

Pretending to be asleep was easier than trying to make polite conversation as they’d done when their paths had crossed since the day Rochelle’s father had come to the NICU. They’d shared a moment of truce when Rochelle’s father had been present, but otherwise the awkwardness lingered and made her stomach churn even now.

Then again, everything seemed to make her feel nauseated these days. As a child she’d often had stomach issues when she’d got really nervous or upset, but she’d thought she’d outgrown that during her late teens. Recently, that old habit had returned. As if having to deal with her memories wasn’t enough torture.

She snuck a quick peek at the man she couldn’t keep from her mind.

And caught him staring at her.

“Good nap?”

“Um, yes. Thanks for asking.” Heat infused her face at the way he watched her. As if he knew exactly what she’d been doing.

He couldn’t possibly know she’d been faking sleep, could he?

Probably. Somehow Ty seemed to know everything.

The plane hit a bit of turbulence and her stomach lurched. Her face must have paled, because Ty’s expression instantly grew concerned. His hand covered hers where she clutched at the armrest.

“You okay?”

For answer, she unbuckled her seat restraint and hurried to the lavatory, grateful that no one was there or she’d have had to make do with the little bag provided on the back of the seat in front of hers.

Once inside the small lavatory, she prayed the other passengers couldn’t hear her spilling the meager breakfast she’d forced down.

She prayed Ty couldn’t hear.

She delayed in the restroom as long as she dared occupy the only lavatory in first class, but the empathetic gazes that met hers when she left the sanctity of the private space told her everyone had heard.

That Ty had heard.

Great.

Without looking directly at him, she sank into her seat, closed her eyes and said a little prayer that her nerves calmed down. Spending the weekend with Ty was stressful enough. Spending the weekend with him with an upset stomach just went off the charts of bad luck.

“I thought it was me,” he mused, “but now I’m wondering if perhaps you just don’t enjoy flying.”

Her gaze shot toward his. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, his eyes studying her. “I can see that by the ashen color of your skin and the way you’re holding your stomach.”

Why couldn’t she be suave and sophisticated around this man? Why did she continually embarrass herself?

She dug through her purse, searching for a breath mint and popping one into her mouth prior to answering him.

“My stomach acts up sometimes when I get nervous.”

“You don’t like flying?”

“Th-that’s not it.”

He considered her answer, then asked, “You’re nervous about this weekend? Isn’t that my job? You never have to see these folks again. They’re my family. I’m stuck with them.”

That got her attention, made her stomach lurch. For Ty their relationship was truly temporary. When they returned from Texas, whatever this was between them would well and truly be done. They’d deal with each other at the hospital and nothing more. Which should be just fine by her since she hadn’t really expected more of the weekend than fulfilling her end of a deal, had she? She hadn’t fantasized that Ty was going to take her into his big Texan arms and tell her he’d missed her as much as she had missed him and that they’d go back to New York as a couple. Nope, no way had she been that gullible and naive.

Willing her stomach to settle because, really, there couldn’t be anything left in there, she watched him. “I know you said you and your dad had an argument, but surely you’re excited to see your family?”

He didn’t look sure.

“How long has it been since you’ve been home, Ty?” Her question was soft, but had the impact of someone shaking the plane.

“Years.” Had Ty made a run for the lavatory and retched, Eleanor wouldn’t have been surprised.

She placed her hand over his, meaning to comfort him but only managing to send her pulse into orbit at the flesh-to-flesh contact. Would touching him always affect her so? Always pull her back to memories best forgotten?

They both stared at where her hand covered his, at how her thumb had begun to trace a pattern over his. No, she definitely hadn’t had any false hopes where the weekend was concerned.

“You’ve told me a little about your family, but I’d like to know more before we arrive.”

He didn’t speak at first and she thought he was going to ignore her or tell her to mind her own business, but finally that sexy Texan drawl of his began to tell her about his life.

“My mother is the greatest woman. Kind, loving, strong. There’s nothing the woman can’t do. Growing up, I was just as likely to see her out breaking a horse with my father as I was to see her inside, canning vegetables. She wins the bread-baking contest at the county fair every year and has for as long as I can recall. She worked from dawn to late into the night every day, but always found time for my brother and I.” He smiled as if a good memory was playing through his mind. “Rarely was there a night that went by that we weren’t read a bible story, made to say our prayers, tucked in and kissed good-night by her.”

Eleanor smiled at his idealistic-sounding childhood. How wonderful it must have been to grow up in such a loving family environment. “You said your brother is three years older than you? He’s your only sibling?”

He nodded. “Mom wanted more, but there was just us two boys. Probably just as well as we kept her running.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She is.” Which meant his mother wasn’t anything to do with why he dreaded going home. Then again, he’d already said who it was he didn’t get along with.

“Tell me about this father who scares you.”

Leaning his head back against the plush first-class seat, Ty snorted. “I was kidding when I said that.”

She couldn’t imagine him afraid of anything, but there was definitely something off in his relationship with his father.

“Your tone changes when you speak of him,” she pointed out in what she hoped was a gentle voice. The skin tightened on his face, too, but she didn’t point that out.

He sighed, shifted his hand to where their fingers laced. “I don’t talk about my father usually. Life is better that way. Actually, you’re the only person I’ve talked to about him other than my mother and brother.”

Why did his admission make her feel as if she was different from the other women he’d been with? That maybe she hadn’t imagined just how special their night had been?

“But,” he said with another sigh, “since I’m dragging you into the middle of my life, I should prepare you. Can’t have you walking in unawares and being blindsided.”

“Being blindsided?”

“I told you that the last time I was home my father and I had a disagreement.” His lips twisted and a flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes. “I left swearing I’d never set foot in Swallow Creek again.”

He still looked at her, but Eleanor wasn’t so sure Ty saw her. He looked lost in the past, a dark, unpleasant place that held a tight grip on his present.

She lifted a shoulder. “That’s a silly thing to swear about a place where the people you love live.”

He blinked, clearing whatever had momentarily come over him. He laughed at her comment, but the sound didn’t come out as natural. “You’re right, and here I am headed back, ready to eat my words.”

Still fighting nausea, she let his admission soak in, trying to understand the man sitting next to her, holding her hand as if she were his lifeline rather than the other way around, as it had been earlier. “Why now? Why go back after all this time? Because of the rodeo?”

He took a deep breath. “My mom’s been on me from the moment I left to come back, but she understands my love of medicine.” He smiled, thoughts of his mother obviously easing some of his tension. “But lately she’s been pushing more and more. With Dad hosting the rodeo this year, she wouldn’t let up until I promised I’d be there.”

His poor mother must have missed him like crazy and been frantic to repair the rift within her family. But at no point had Ty sounded as if he wanted this trip home.

“Why did you agree if you don’t really want to do this?”

He glanced at her, seeming surprised that she’d pushed further. She knew there was more than he was telling her.

“Lots of reasons. I do miss my family.” He frowned, then added, “Mostly. Plus, if I don’t come home, she and my whole family are going to come to New York for an extended visit.”

“Would that be so bad?”

That lopsided grin lifted one side of his handsome face. “Ask me that again after you’ve met my family.”

She smiled, glad to see his usual smile back in place and hating it that something he’d said nagged at her brain. Hated it because she suspected when she asked him about it his smile was going to slip, but she wanted to understand this man beside her. Which was crazy. After this weekend, they’d probably go back to barely talking to each other.

“You said your mother understood your love of medicine.”

There went the smile.

“Does that mean your father doesn’t?” she pushed, wondering if her suspicions were correct.

“Let’s just say I’m not the son who makes him proud.” His jaw working, Ty gave a nonchalant shrug, as if her question was of little consequence, as if his answer was of little consequence. But she saw the clench of his jaw, the quickening pulse at his throat, felt the slight unsteadiness in his hand. His answer revealed a vulnerability in him that made her feel protective, as if she wanted to shield him from anyone who dared to treat him with less than the utmost love and respect.

Which really was crazy.

Ty was a six-foot-four Texan hunk. Not some wallflower who needed her to run interference.

Despite him rescuing her at the ribbon-cutting, the time they’d spent together at the hospital, the fund-raiser and afterward, well, really, they barely knew each other.

Yet she did feel as if she knew him. That he knew her. Really deep down knew each other.

Which was even crazier.

She fought leaning over and taking him into her arms. It was what she wanted to do. She doubted he’d welcome her sympathy, her comfort.

She settled with giving his hand a gentle squeeze and saying quietly, “Then your brother must be an exceptionally amazing man.”