Thad’s whole body quaked.
“God help me,” he whispered.
With the visions of Grace and Amelia in his mind and the memory of his own excruciating burns, Thad did the only thing his conscience would allow.
He rushed back into the mill.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Love seeketh not itself to please
Nor for itself hath any care
But for another gives its ease
And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.
—William Blake
Present
“MR. BRIGGS. MR. BRIGGS.” A voice intruded on Hayden’s dream.
Who was Mr. Briggs?
He was.
Hayden’s eyes flew open. He straightened, his neck aching and tense. His heart pounded, and his brain was flooded with images of fire.
A scrubs-clad nurse stood next to his chair.
He wasn’t at the burning mill with Thaddeus. He was in Kentucky, where he’d fallen asleep in the stiff vinyl waiting room chair. He sat up and glanced at his watch.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I thought you’d be relieved to know your mother’s level of consciousness is improving.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face, reorienting himself. “She’s waking up?”
“Slowly.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse offered a professional smile and hurried away. Lights over patients’ rooms flared and beeped. Gurneys, both empty and loaded, rumbled down the tile hallway. A television on the wall entertained no one.
Hayden cataloged the overload of sensory input, along with the smell of antiseptic struggling to overshadow the odor of sick humanity. It was useless, like dressing a pillbilly’s son in Armani. It changed nothing. It only hid the truth.
He rarely let those things bother him, but lately his upbringing haunted him like the dreams did. Josie’s hatred of all things Yankee kept her from appreciating the good in Thaddeus, and only she could change it.
Hayden rubbed a hand over his face, felt the scratchy beard. He’d tried to change who he was. The only person he hadn’t fooled was himself.
His cell phone buzzed. A glance at caller ID brightened his outlook.
“Hi.”
“Hayden?” Carrie’s soft-as-rainwater voice took the edge off his fatigue. “How is she?”
He pushed out of the chair and started walking. “I’m heading down to the room now. The nurse says she’s better.”
A sigh. She was relieved for him. “I’m so glad.” He felt her hesitate. “Hayden?”
He slowed his steps, frowning. “Is something wrong?”
“I hope not. I was worried about you. I thought you might need someone.” In a rush, she said, “I caught a plane. I’m here.”
Breath froze in his lungs. “You’re here? In Kentucky?”
“Yes.” She sounded nervous and uncertain. He didn’t want that any more than he wanted her in this hospital.
His heart rattled against his rib cage. “Stay there. I’ll come to you.”
“I’m already in a cab on my way to the hospital.”
Though he’d written plenty of hospital scenes in his books, none played out quite as dramatically as this one.
She’d find out. His brain whirled, grabbing at excuses and solutions.
“What room?”
He tuned back in. “Excuse me?”
“The room number, Hayden.”
“Fourth floor. ICU. You can’t go in.” He didn’t know if that was true, but he was grabbing for lifelines.
“That’s all right. I came to see you, Hayden. To be with you.”
“Right.” He started walking again, faster this time until his steps brought him to Dora Lee’s unit. A nurse exited, cast a friendly nod in his direction.
“I’m hanging up now, Hayden. The cab just pulled up in front.”
He tapped the end icon and pressed the phone against his thudding chest.
His breath came in short bursts. She was here.
* * *
HE LOOKED HAGGARD.
That was Carrie’s first thought when Hayden stepped off the elevator and strode toward her across the hospital lobby.
The uncertainty she’d battled in the cab disappeared. She went to him, confident now that she’d done the right thing by coming. He shouldn’t go through this alone, not without someone who cared. She walked into his open arms.
“I was so worried about you.”
His embrace tightened. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. You’re trembling with exhaustion.”
He didn’t deny her claim. “You hate airplanes.”
She smiled against his shoulder. “You’d be proud. I didn’t even throw up.”
She didn’t mention the white-knuckle grip or the sweaty imprints she’d left on the seat arms.
“Proud indeed.” He kissed her ear. Now she was the one trembling. “You shouldn’t have come.”
Her heart stuttered. “You don’t want me?”
He sighed. “Oh, I want you, all right. More than I can say.”
She sighed, too, relieved and happy. He needed her. This man who kept himself aloof and shielded his heart needed her.
No man, not even Hayden Winters, was an island unto himself.
“I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” She rubbed a hand up and down his back. “You’re very tense.”
“You have no idea.” He huffed softly and eased back from her but didn’t let her go. His gaze searched her face. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in days.”
“But you said I shouldn’t have come.”
His beloved mouth ticked up at the corners, though there were shadows in his eyes. He rocked her side to side. “Did I say that?”
Her anxiety dissipated completely. Here with Hayden in his time of difficulty was where she belonged, and here she would stay as he long as he wanted her.
“Shouldn’t you be with your mother?”
The shadows deepened, his concern evident. He glanced toward the elevator and back to Carrie. His throat worked.
“I came out of her room right before you arrived. She’s mostly out of it, heavily medicated, and the doctor said to let her rest.”
“Did he say the same to you? You look as if you belong in a hospital bed yourself.”
“I could use some food and sleep.” He glanced at the roller bag at her side. “Have you checked into a hotel yet?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I wanted to see about you and your mother first.”
“The hotel has a good restaurant. I was about to head back there.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Join me? Make me feel better for a while?”
Her smile bloomed. That’s exactly why she’d come.
* * *
HAYDEN MANAGED TO get Carrie out of the hospital without learning about Dora Lee’s real diagnosis. For now.
He knew that wasn’t enough. She couldn’t return to the hospital with him. He had to get her out of Kentucky.
But he didn’t want to hurt her, either. Truth was he didn’t want Carrie to leave. He wanted her with him all the time. He was better, happier, cleaner and more worthwhile when she was with him. Sweet, pure Carrie was a refuge he sorely needed.
He was tiptoeing on broken glass, and any minute he’d slip and slice an artery.
A waitress clad in standard black and white slid a pair of menus onto the table. “I’m Annie. I’ll be your server.”
Then she dashed off to get their water.
“This isn’t exactly the celebration I’d had in mind when I asked you out to dinner,” he said. “A causal bar and grill inside a hotel.”
“That seems long
ago instead of only a couple of days.”
“I’ve been planning to take you somewhere special.” To wine and dine her properly and show her how important she’d become to him.
“This is special, Hayden.” She captured his eyes with her soft brown ones and melted him. A woman like her deserved better than lies and evasions. But the truth would break her heart.
He glanced at the colorful menu, hiding his culpability. “Anything look appealing?”
“Everything. I was too nervous to eat before I went to the airport, and I sure couldn’t eat on the plane.” She flipped the single-leaf menu to the back and studied the desserts and drinks.
Getting on an airplane was the last thing he’d expected Carrie to do. Yet she’d done it for him.
The knife of guilt plunged a little deeper.
“What are you ordering?”
He pushed the menu aside. “Grilled lemon chicken and portobellos, maybe?”
“Works for me.” She stacked her menu on his.
While awaiting their order, she caught him up on Julia’s wedding plans and told him that Brody’s dad had actually gone to the AA meeting. He still didn’t believe it would last, and he was still going to keep his eye on Clint Thomson. Somehow.
He urged her to talk, letting the pleasant lilt of her Tennessee voice soothe him.
When the food arrived, she turned the topic to Louisville, land of the Kentucky Derby.
“Have you ever been?” she asked.
“Once.” It was a good memory. Not too long after his second book was tapped for a major motion picture. He’d been living the dream, thinking he could. “The Derby is quite a spectacle. Have you been?”
She shook her head. “No. I always feel sorry for the horses.”
“You sound like Brody. But Thoroughbreds are born to run. They love it. It’s in their blood.”
“I suppose you’re right. It’s in their breeding. If the mother and father are runners, they have no choice but to be runners, too.”
The chicken lost its flavor.
DNA won every time.
* * *
AFTER DINNER, THEY stopped at the front desk, where Carrie secured a room down the hall from Hayden’s. He offered his credit card, but she batted his hand away. She didn’t want the desk clerk thinking...that, even if she’d had a funny flutter when he’d instructed the clerk to put her on his floor.
She was glad if a bit uncertain. Being alone in a hotel was creepy. Always before she’d had her sisters or a friend along.
Hayden carried her tiny bag up the elevator and used her key to open the room. After checking behind every door and glancing out the window, he gave his nod of approval. “Looks safe enough.”
She giggled. “You act as if you expected a bellman to be hiding under the bed with a hatchet.”
His grin was suitably sheepish. “It’s a curse.”
“And a wonderful gift.”
“There is that.” He perched a hand on each hip. “You want to freshen up a bit or go for a walk, maybe a swim? The pool is heated.”
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit, but a short walk sounds good after I freshen up a little. Unless you’d rather get some obviously needed rest.”
“Too keyed up. The exercise will help me relax.” He went to the door. “First, I want to call the hospital.”
“We should go back. Your mother might need you.”
His expression tightened. “I’ll call. I’m in 4106 when you’re ready.”
Fifteen minutes later, she tapped on his door and they headed out onto the sidewalk. The city, like most metropolitan areas, hummed and zipped around them.
“How’s your mother?” she asked.
“Her lab results tonight are better. She’s more awake.”
“If we need to go there—”
“Not tonight.” His curt tone surprised her. When she looked at him, he took her hand and said, “Sorry. The strain is taking a toll.”
“I hope you can sleep better tonight.”
“No worries.” He ignored the flashing light at the corner and tugged her across the street. “The river area is a couple of blocks from here. Want to walk down there away from the traffic? It’s nice.”
“Sure. Wherever you say. This is your hometown. I’d be lost on my own.”
They walked past several high-rise hotels before coming out to a paved courtyard overlooking the Ohio River.
“The bridges are stunning, especially that one.” She pointed to a magnificent arching structure of steel and concrete stretched far, far across the water. “It’s almost elegant.”
“Big Four Bridge.” He sounded pleased, a change from the earlier grumpy tone. “Used to be an old railroad trestle, but now it’s a pedestrian attraction.”
Carrie suffered a pang of guilt for keeping him away from the hospital with his mother, but the decision was his. She was there to support in whatever way he required. As he said, he needed a distraction, and she was happy to provide it.
“You should see the bridges during Derby week. They present an air show and fireworks along the river. It’s impressive.”
“Do you ever miss living here?” she asked.
“No.” He started walking again, eyes straight ahead as if she’d said something wrong. Again she wondered about his childhood and about the woman lying a short distance away in the ICU.
Gray clouds scudded overhead, drawing a chill from the nearby Ohio. Carrie shivered, and Hayden slipped an arm around her, tugging her close to his very warm, sturdy side.
How right it was to be a woman with a man. How perfect the fit of her body next to his, feeling protected and cherished.
Out on the water, a riverboat drifted past, and a smaller, faster boat created a noisy wake.
Hands clasped, they walked to the center of Big Four Bridge, where they exclaimed over the views of the Louisville skyline and, on the opposite end, southern Indiana.
The breeze picked up, cooler now. The sun descended behind a fluffy bank of gray clouds, creating a yellow horizon that reflected on the water.
Carrie gazed up at the man who’d stolen her heart and said, “This is lovely, Hayden.” Lovely like the emotions ripe between them.
His gaze was tender as he lowered his face and kissed her. “Glad you like it.”
“I’m sorry the timing is so awful,” she said, “but I’m not sorry to be here with you.”
His handsome face pensive, he squeezed her fingers and said no more but stared out at the fading golden glow.
Night fell, and when the bridge became a multitude of ever-changing colored lights, she tugged his hand. “Ready to go back? You need sleep.”
He nodded. “I think I can now. You’re good medicine.”
The words were balm to Carrie, her reason for taking the risk to come to Kentucky. Whatever ultimately happened with this relationship, she would never be sorry for loving this good man.
* * *
LATER, WHEN HE’D retired to his hotel room and she to hers, Carrie phoned her mother. If Mary Riley disapproved of Carrie’s sudden, uncharacteristic rush to Kentucky, she kept her thoughts to herself, reminding her only to “be careful.”
When Nikki called, full of bubbly romantic notions, Carrie told her about the river walk and shared her concerns about Hayden and his very ill mother.
After a bit of conversation, she cast an anxious glance at the hotel window. “I think it’s going to rain. Do you think storms follow me? I don’t want to be here in a strange place in a storm.”
Nikki, for once, didn’t chide her about her silly phobias. “Close the curtains and you won’t even know.”
“Okay.” With the phone cradled beneath her chin, Carrie drew the drapes as lightning flickered over the brightly lit skyline.
After ending the call, she went to bed. Lying in the darkness, she revisited the day. Hayden’s tired eyes, his worry-tightened mouth, his tenderness toward her.
A thunderbolt rattled the windows. At least she thought the glass had rattled. Her pulse pounded in rhythm with the hard-pounding rain.
She was four floors up. What if a tornado struck the hotel?
She clicked on the bedside radio and found a strong music channel to drown out the noise and pulled the covers over her head.
The radio crackled with interference, a reminder rather than a distraction. She reached for her smartphone and fumbled for the music icon.
As she leaned to turn off the radio, a thunderstorm warning beeped across the airwaves.
She had no idea what she’d do if a tornado warning was next.
Shivering now and breathing hard, she sat up. She would not bother Hayden. He was exhausted and desperate for sleep, not for some rain-phobic female to keep him awake all night.
She clicked off the radio and huddled beneath the covers. She was a grown woman. She could be alone in a strange hotel in a strange city during a rainstorm.
A thunderbolt sat her straight up in bed.
* * *
HAYDEN ROUSED FROM a deep sleep. Flashes of light patterned across his bed, coming through the drapes he’d failed to close.
Rain.
He got up and closed the drapes and then fell back onto the bed. His eyes had barely closed when his mind regained clarity.
To Carrie, a simple rainstorm was a hurricane.
She would be nervous, more so because she was alone in a hotel in a strange city.
He turned on his side and thumped the pillow. He couldn’t be with her. Not this time. Too dangerous.
She’d be scared, shaking.
He tossed to his other side, grinding his back teeth.
Don’t be stupid.
She was safer with him here in his own room. His control was already thin just knowing she was down the hall, maybe in her cupcake pajamas.
With the lightning flashes, she wouldn’t get a moment of sleep.
He sat up, scraped a hand over his face.
She’d flown in an airplane, coming all the way to Kentucky because she’d known instinctively that he needed her.