Chapter Eleven
Slipping between the closed slats of the mini-blinds, peachy slits of sunshine brushed across Caitlin’s face, urging her to face the day. Wintering Canadian geese gabbed as they rode the waves slapping against the stone pier and the shoreline. Gulls squawked their desire to see these migrating visitors leave—soon. All the usual sunrise sounds greeted an unusual day.
She shook off sleep and peered cautiously at the alarm clock. Not even six. Aching in every minuscule body part, she gingerly lifted her head from the pillow and spied Rachel, wrapped in a down quilt and asleep on the lounge chair. Those sunny fingers cast bronzing color upon the woman’s face.
As if sensing someone watching her, Rachel stirred. Her chocolate eyes gazed toward Caitlin. “Do you feel as bad as you look?”
“Worse, actually, but thanks for being so sympathetic. I really look that bad?” Since she could barely see through the slits of her eyes, Rachel must be right.
Rachel nodded, her sleep-tousled hair swirling at the movement. “Bad…and yet, oh so colorful.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Can’t open one eye, and the other has blurred vision through a narrow slit.” Caitlin settled into a different position. “You should have used the guest room, Rach. You’d have gotten a better night’s sleep.”
Rachel yawned and stretched before she spoke. “Didn’t think I should be that far away last night. You were restless and—”
“You thought I needed tending?” Caitlin accepted Rachel’s affirmative nod. “And I did. So thanks, for work above and beyond what you get paid for.” She groaned and rubbed a spot on her throbbing temple. “Oohhh, what a headache.” She closed her one open eye.
“I’ll get your medication. Unfortunately, it won’t kill the headache.” Rachel threw off the seafoam green comforter and headed to the bathroom. “You are planning on staying in bed today as you were told?” she asked over her shoulder as she entered the bathroom.
“Do I have a choice?” Caitlin muttered. The sounds of water running, a plastic bottle flipping open, and a muffled “damn” likely meant Rachel didn’t hear that sarcastic response.
“I’m glad you’re listening to the doctor.” Rachel reentered the bedroom and handed a pill and a glass to Caitlin, her mouth open, waiting for a chance to enter the monologue. Instead, Rachel shoved the medication onto her tongue.
Caitlin swallowed, then cleared her throat, ready to refute Rachel’s conclusion.
Rachel never gave her a chance. “You are planning on bed rest, aren’t you?”
“What are my options?” Caitlin asked louder this time and not directed to her shoulder area.
“None.” Rachel bent, picked up the scrubs, and shoved them into a plastic bag.
Taking advantage of Rachel’s distraction, Caitlin continued with her jaw thrust forward. “And just who’s imposing this on me?”
“Me…and a very nervous guy downstairs, a brawny guy who looks used to getting his way. Don’t go all righteous and fighting mad on me. It’s not going to work.” Rachel stood at the side of the bed, her hands on her hips and a don’t-mess-with-me look on her face.
“You and Mike ganging up on me?”
“You betcha.” Rachel cocked her head. “The police kept your clothes?”
“I guess so. They were beyond repair anyway.”
“Let’s hope they have traces of evidence then.”
“I should be so lucky.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you? And not raped? Be grateful.”
“You into tough love this morning?”
“If it’s needed. You call your parents yet? Or your brother and his wife?”
Caitlin shook her head. Of all her brothers, she was closest to Pat and his wife Jan.
“Not smart, Catie Rose.” Rachel bent and retrieved the hospital-issue footies from the floor. “Nice footwear. You’re tossing these, right?”
Caitlin nodded. That action ramped up her headache.
“Smart. What if your mom hears about this today? Like on the news, maybe?”
“All hell will break loose.” Caitlin cringed at the thought of placating her mother should something like that happen. “But everything happened so fast last night that I never thought about it.”
“Understandable, but I bet she’s like my mom was. First thing in the morning, local news. And honey, you’re local and newsworthy this morning.”
“I’ll call later this morning and tell them something.”
“Don’t wait, Catie Rose.”
“Maybe I’ll call Jan. Ask her and Patrick to go over there before I call.”
“Where’s the number and I’ll make the call.”
Caitlin pointed to the nightstand drawer and Rachel retrieved a phone list.
“You said Mike’s downstairs?” That piece of information just registered in Caitlin’s mind. Rachel nodded. “Why?”
“Couldn’t blast the man out of here last night, girlfriend. I have the feeling he’s preparing to fight the monsters in your life.”
Caitlin groaned and rubbed her throbbing head. She didn’t need Mike getting all protective and macho on her. Life was so much easier a month ago. “I vaguely remember asking him to stay when I was in the emergency room.”
“You finding that plan objectionable? Huh? Like maybe you weren’t thinking clearly? Going to blame it on your concussion?”
“Will it work?”
“Nope.” Finished with her phone call to Jan, Rachel plopped herself back into the same chair she’d spent the night. “Seems to me you could use a little personal protecting. Don’t try arching that high and mighty eyebrow at me. You’ll just increase your pain.”
Feeling bullied and not liking it much, Caitlin grumped, but her ears caught the “poor me” undertone. “I’m not arching my eyebrow, but I do hate to impose. I feel bad enough about your being here last night. But if Mike…”
“Better him than me. Vince told me Mike was more than willing to be with you last night, but you insisted I be called, too.”
Rachel’s comment produced a flush on Caitlin’s face. “I knew I needed help.” Caitlin motioned to her nightgown, “…undressing and…Geez, Rach, quit that smirking!” She rubbed her throbbing temples and avoided Rachel’s gaze. If she could only drown out Rach’s chuckles and dodge her grins.
“I say something to Mike. He blushes. I mention something to you. You blush. In my book, two blushes equal something’s going on.” Rachel’s grin split her face. “’Fess up.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t, but we’ve always been honest with each other. Right now, I’m not so sure you’re being honest. With me or yourself. Mike seems a good man. Not one to take advantage of a hurting woman. Maybe you needed help you felt he couldn’t or shouldn’t provide, but maybe you wanted protection from yourself? Huh, maybe? After all, you could’ve called Jan and your brother, but then Mike wouldn’t have had any reason for sticking around, right? With me, that issue was settled. You knew Mike wouldn’t leave us here alone. But what about my feelings in all this?”
Caitlin looked abashed. “That sounds so calculating.”
“Didn’t mean it to be. God knows you were in no condition last night to lay out your usual well-thought-out strategic plans. But I don’t mind telling you, I was beyond shocked, and just a bit aggravated, when Vince called me.”
“But you came, despite his calling.” Ignoring her throbbing headache, Caitlin shifted herself upward onto the pillows and against the headboard. “I did ask him to call you. He hesitated but agreed. I think he still cares about you.”
“Don’t meddle, please, Caitlin. That whole situation’s been difficult enough.” Rachel rose from the edge of the bed. “How about if I make some coffee?”
“You have to grind beans.”
“I can handle that. While I’m gone, think about your feelings, especially for Mike. After all, at least I’m not denying mine.” Turning, Rachel left the bedroom with a quick wave.
Caitlin turned toward the window. Just like this room was protected from the weather elements by an air-tight thermopane, was she living her life protected from emotions? Behind a wall of her own making?
Be honest. She did that. Went out of her way to protect herself.
Mike did affect her, if last night was any indication. “I’m thirty-nine and acting like a nineteen-year-old ninny,” she grumbled as she inched out of bed to raise the blinds. She gazed at the lake, endless and changing, pinkish silver this morning. Flocks of Canadian geese rode the gentle waves, gossiping about geese-important items. How she loved this view, this water, this peace.
Could she ever, would she ever, let anyone share this with her? Had her solitary, at times reclusive, lifestyle hampered her ability to relate to others in a framework outside her hectic, life-absorbing professional life? Did she even want to weigh the possibility? Should she consider this decision now that Mike had re-entered her life?
No question. Mike intended to usurp some of her cherished personal time. He had changed—matured. His charisma was stronger, his demands less easy to fend off. But she could handle him.
With her thoughts tumbling inside her throbbing skull, she scanned the water and noticed two geese break away from the raucous group and swim side-by-side toward the shore. Life was so much simpler for geese.
Strong large hands grasped her shoulders from behind and tore her from her reverie. She tensed, images of last night shattering her peacefulness.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you. Your stairs are quieter than I expected.” Mike eased her against his broad chest. “I’ve been watching them, too. It’s an awesome sight, isn’t it?”
Caitlin nodded her head, but made no sound. The strong beat of another’s heart soothed her as she tilted her head to the left, ear against his chest and caught sight of their images reflected in the glass.
“I remember as a kid getting up early in the morning to do my paper route. Before starting, I’d go down to the lake, sit on the rocks, watch the sun come up, and listen to the birds. Always made me feel better. Now I’d say I prepared for my day. Lord, I missed that…in the south.”
“I’m sure you were the best paperboy in town.”
“My tips were good.” His lips, not demanding yet confident, brushed against the top of her head, skimming over the flattened remnants of last night’s glamorous hair style. Her body relaxed further against Mike’s and into his embrace. He willingly accommodated her action.
“We lived away from the lake when I grew up, so I just dreamed of owning something like this one day.” She whispered as if in church.
“And you do—plus so much more, Cait. As for me? I’ve come back to reclaim my lost peace of mind.” Mike thumbed her shoulders. Where he touched, she ached less.
And more.
She shivered.
“You must be freezing in that wisp of gown.”
Conscious for the first time of her rumpled state—and her goose bumps—she groaned. “My God, I must look like Joseph’s Technicolor coat.” She raised her hands to cover cleavage, fluff hair.
Mike caught them in mid-flutter. “Don’t. You look like a survivor.”
She saw contentment reflected in his eyes and bowed her head. “I’m a mess.”
Mike pulled her further into his warmth and guided her back to her rumpled bed. “Never, not to me. Never.”
She looked up, registering him clearly with her one good eye. Total acceptance. “You’re sweet, but I know better.”
Mike shook his head. “You still don’t handle some truths very well.” He paused, then with his thumb he touched the bruised cheek area, fingered her bandaged neck. “I’m going to get the bastard who did this, Cait.”
“If there is anything to handle, please let the sheriff do it, Mike. I’d never forgive myself if somehow I caused you to be hurt. Besides, I think whoever did this will be satisfied now.” She didn’t want to talk about what happened. Instead, she wanted to think about two geese, swimming away from their raucous companions. To talk with Mike of peace and dawns. To listen to his comforting voice.
“Don’t bet the farm on that. Last night was round three with the bell ringing before the knockout. He’ll come back. I’m sure of it and the damn knot in my stomach reinforces it. I don’t think you should be alone—ever—until this is all settled. Until that bastard is caught and behind bars. But it’s not fair that Rachel be here all the time.” He settled on the edge of the bed after she moved over to make room.
She bristled at his words. “I can take care of myself.” Battle alarms sounded in her low-pitched voice.
“Like you did last night?” he countered.
“I was taken by surprise.”
“And almost killed.”
“Don’t think so, Mike. I’m still alive. He didn’t want me dead.” Caitlin felt him stiffen, hated the creeping desolation at the thought he might not listen to her. Caressing his shoulder, her fingers spread toward his thickly muscled neck. She urged him down to her. He offered no resistance. She peered into those eyes, smoldering with conflicting emotions.
“He wanted something other than to kill me. That might have come later.”
Mike’s muscles turned to concrete and he pulled away from her. “I don’t like it, but you have a legitimate point. He wouldn’t have killed you in that parking lot. So he had to have transportation nearby, some means to take you somewhere else.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Not a damn thing. Hell, Cait. This thinking reinforces why you can’t be alone. He will try again.” He chewed his lower lip, like something bugged him.
“But no one knows where I live, so I’m safe here.”
“Right.” But his tone didn’t offer real agreement.
“Without Rachel. Or you.”
“Wrong.” He bent his spread-eagled arms and touched her forehead with a quick kiss. “But I intend to keep you safe—here and at work.” Coffee aromas wafted into the room. He bent again, this time rubbing noses with her.
“At least our noses are in sync. I think our bodies crave coffee.”
“Well, my body craves more than coffee—but I’ll take what I can get.” He grabbed the top sheet and comforter and pulled them up to her chin. “My Technicolor temptress...”