Love By The Book (4 page)

Chapter 7

When I stepped off the hospital elevator the next morning I had my hands full. I carried a box of doughnuts tucked under one arm and a cardboard drink carrier with two cappuccinos.

I hesitated with my load outside room three-eighteen. Suppose he wasn’t here anymore? Or even if he was, maybe he’d be weirded out by my showing up like this again. After all, he’d already thanked me for my help. As far as he was concerned there was probably no more to be said.

I bit my lip and dredged up the determination I had felt last night when I’d made this decision. I had questions that begged for answers. Once he satisfied them I’d be on my way, but not before. Besides, I had a good excuse. I’d been too abrupt yesterday. Practically rude. It was perfectly natural to drop by and offer an apology and a couple of doughnuts as a peace offering. Wasn’t it?

Still…Staring at the closed door in front of me, I admitted to myself that wild resolutions made during the restless hours of the night looked a lot less rational after a few hours sleep. I wrestled with myself for another minute before finally setting aside my doubts and knocking on the door.

There was no answer. He probably wasn’t in the same room anymore, I decided.
If he hasn’t already been released from the hospital
. I balanced the cup holder on top of my box of doughnuts and turned the knob.

“Dr. Barnes will be in later to talk to you,” a strange voice was saying, as I pushed open the door. Mystery Man wasn’t alone today. A heavy man in green scrubs stood over him, chatting as he checked the IV bags. The patient was sitting upright at the edge of the bed with a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. His shirt was off, and he wore nothing but a thin sheet stretched across his lap.

I squeaked and nearly dropped my load. Both men turned at the noise.

“Miss Hurst, you’re back,” Mystery Man observed, a hint of a question in his tone.

Before I could speak, the other man, whom I guessed to be a nurse, said, “I’m sorry but we’re in the middle of an examination. Could you come back in a few minutes?”

“Oh—yes. Absolutely.” Red-faced, I fumbled with my packages and dragged my eyes away from Mystery Man’s bare shoulders and ripped abs long enough to look for a place to set down my things. I ended up dumping them hastily onto a rickety metal stand and backing toward the door.

“Wait, it’s entirely all right,” Mystery Man called after me, appearing unembarrassed. “You don’t have to go.” But I shut the door on his words.

Out in the hall, I could’ve choked on my mortification. It wasn’t walking in on him in the middle of a physical that had done it. It was my clumsy reaction that kept replaying itself in my mind.

Blushing like a teenager!

Not only that, but he couldn’t have missed my eyes burning twin holes into his bare chest. And a pretty amazing chest it was too. Mystery Man must hit the gym once in a while. Maybe he wasn’t a librarian after all.

I checked the silly thought as I paced down the hall.
Carlita was right. I should never have come back here
. Something about this man seemed to make a gawking idiot of me every time I was near him. I toyed with the idea of abandoning the food and not coming back. But that would be a childish and pathetic move, and I had the humiliating sense that he would somehow know why I had done it. Besides, those doughnuts I’d left behind were blueberry and cream filled—one very worthy reason to hang around.

In the end, I took the elevator to the second floor and wandered down to the maternity ward to kill time. I’d always liked looking through the nursery window at the newborns. Here lately they also served as a little needed reminder that I was pushing thirty and still what they used to call an “old maid.” I would’ve preferred the term “single career woman” but supposed you had to have a career before you could lay claim to that title.

Never mind. I couldn’t stay in a bad mood in such a joyful place. Evidently, this had been a busy day in the maternity ward. Every face I passed in the hall looked like a smiley sticker. I joined the handful of grandparents and other visitors crowded around the glass, cooing over the new arrivals. Taking up a stance before the prettiest and the happiest infant behind the window, I goo-gooed and made silly faces at the wide-eyed newborn until it started to fuss and cry. Then I melted off swiftly into the crowd, before anyone could peg me as the troublemaker.

Back in the elevator, I checked my watch. Surely the patient was done with his exam by now. I had to find out this guy’s name today, I realized. I couldn’t go around thinking of him as Mystery Man forever. But then after today I really wouldn’t need to call him
anything
ever again, would I?

I paused outside his room. This time no voices drifted out. Even so, I rapped my knuckles loud and clear against the doorframe to announce my entry.

“Um—hi,” I called through the door. “It’s me again. All finished in there?”

To my surprise, the door was tugged open and there stood Mystery Man himself. He was in his bare feet and hospital gown and still carried his arm in a sling, but other than that he looked like any ordinary healthy person standing in the doorway—except this doorway happened to be the entrance to a hospital room. I couldn’t help noticing that he had run a comb through his hair since last I saw him and had donned a robe over his gown. I supposed that was as far as a patient could go around here toward preparing for company.

“Miss Hurst, I’m glad you’ve returned. I was afraid you wouldn’t.” The faint irony in his tone suggested he knew full well what had driven me away in such a hurry.

“I said I’d be back, didn’t I?” Nervousness made me defensive. What was wrong with me?

“I really just dropped by to apologize for yesterday,” I continued stiffly. “I realized after I left maybe I was a little rushed on my way out. And I was worried I might have come off as kind of skeptical about your, um, problem.” I still couldn’t quite bring myself to acknowledge his amnesia story. “Anyway, I hope I wasn’t too rude and that I didn’t offend you or anything.”

“I assure you I wasn’t in the least offended, Miss Hurst,” he said, surprising me with a self-deprecating smile. “The truth is, I completely understand how you might find my condition difficult to believe. It’s an unlikely situation.”

Although he spoke about himself, I couldn’t help but be aware of the way he flicked his gaze up and down me. I felt instantly self-conscious, wishing I had given more care to dressing this morning. My khaki colored cropped ankle pants and slender black belt were cute enough, but my beige ruffled tank was last year’s style. It was also a little humid outdoors and I could imagine what that had done to my makeup. Not to mention the wind outside had probably wreaked havoc on my loose hair.

But if he noted these details, his opinion wasn’t evident. He stepped back and made a welcoming gesture. “Please, step inside. I’d like a chance to speak with you again.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to bother you, so I should probably be going.”

“You won’t be bothering me in the least.” He sounded as if it were all decided. “I’d like some company. And besides you’ve left your packages inside.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing important. Just some coffee and doughnuts. I know how foul this hospital food is and I thought you might like a decent breakfast.”

“That’s perfect then. We’ll have breakfast together.”

He opened the door wider, and I had no choice but to step inside or look impolite. Anyway, truth to tell, I wasn’t entirely reluctant to spend a little more time in Mystery Man’s company. Whether he was a fraud or the real deal, he fascinated me. And besides, hadn’t I been dying to get some answers about his real identity? Maybe I’d find a chance over breakfast to trip up his amnesia story, if indeed it was false.

Once I entered the room, he appeared suddenly awkward, the first time I had seen his self-assurance falter. “I apologize for this,” he said abruptly, indicating his outfit. “I don’t usually receive female visitors in this fashion, but the clothing I arrived in seems to have been confiscated by the staff. I haven’t been able to find out what’s become of my things.”

I swallowed a smile. It must be uncomfortable hosting breakfast with a stranger in what was basically an ugly nightgown and robe. Good. Maybe his embarrassment would put us on a more equal footing.

“Never mind,” I said, gaining confidence. “You look fine. Let’s just eat.”

I spotted my packages still resting untouched on the rickety table by the door. The nutty scent of the cappuccino called to me and my stomach began clamoring for some of those blueberry and cream doughnuts.

“I’ll set things out, okay?” I said, “Where do want to eat?”

“Out there actually. I’d like a bit of fresh air.”

“Out where?” I followed his gesture to the room’s single window. It overlooked a pebble-paved courtyard below, with a couple of benches standing beneath some scrawny shade trees.

“Um,” I said doubtfully. “Are you sure you should be going out? Maybe it’s not allowed.”
After all, you were flattened by a car day before yesterday. Shouldn’t you be bedridden or something?

The eyebrow he arched at me suggested he wasn’t accustomed to debating his decisions, but I refused to back down. “I’m going to check with a nurse first,” I said firmly.

And that was how a few minutes later I found myself eating breakfast under the warm sunshine in the hospital courtyard with my nameless stranger.

Chapter 8

A soft breeze made up for the humidity in the air and kept the beating sun from making me too warm, as I sat on a metal bench. My companion didn’t have to worry about any such problem. The hospital staff had found him some slippers and a pair of pants that looked like old scrubs, but he was still ridiculously underdressed for an outdoor picnic.

We were the courtyard’s only inhabitants and as such had parked ourselves in the choicest spot directly beneath a pair of skinny trees backed by a circle of low shrubbery. I had felt a little weird pushing Mystery Man’s wheelchair down the pebbled path and situating him beneath the shade of the trees—evidently it was some sort of hospital policy that even healthy patients weren’t allowed to use their legs.

This was the first time I’d been on what felt strangely like a date with a man who looked unsettlingly like a decrepit grandfather, sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket spread over his knees.

But he seemed oblivious to my discomfort, clearly just enjoying this simple opportunity to be outdoors. Evidently the fine weather put him in a generous mood because his manner lightened considerably. Some of the formality between us fell away and by the time the doughnuts had been finished to the last crumb, he had me laughing with his ironic impersonations of a crotchety invalid.

Over the coffee, however, conversation grew more serious. “I’m told I may be released tomorrow,” he said.

“So soon?” I frowned. “I mean, I know you’re already up and around and all, but you’ve still been through a major accident. Isn’t that pretty serious?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But I feel fit enough now to outrun a steam engine.”

I scalded my tongue on my coffee. “A what?”

“A steam engine. You know, one of those new locomotives. Have you seen the things? Beautiful, aren’t they? A marvel of modern engineering.”

I coughed. “Uh, I guess maybe they were a hundred years ago. Today we just take the subway.
You
know,” I joked, “those little trains that run underground?”

“Underground? Really? How I would love to see such a thing.” For the first time since I had met him his eyes blazed with enthusiasm.

That settles it. He’s not from Baltimore
.

Still, it was nice to see he was capable of putting his stiff manners aside once in a while. “You can catch a ride on the Baltimore Metro any time you want,” I said. “Just take a cab to the nearest station.”

He said excitedly, “Why, that’s exactly what I’ll do as soon as I escape this place! And the moment I get my clothes back.”

I laughed. “That would probably be best, yes. They’ve seen everything on the subway, but I don’t think a cab driver would let you into his car in that getup.”

“Car?” he repeated.

I snorted. “You’re not going to say you’ve never seen one of those? You were nearly pancaked by one two days ago.”

For a split second he looked lost, and I wondered uneasily if he was going to claim some weird memory thing again. It was a relief when understanding dawned in his eyes. “Ah, of course. I’ll never forget that, will I?”

I sobered. “Not while you’ve got that knot on your head anyway.” I indicated the small bandage on his forehead. “How’s it coming along?”

“Well enough. I hardly feel it anymore.”

I decided to test the waters. “And your memory? Are the holes filling in there too?”

He didn’t appear uncomfortable discussing it. “Afraid not. I’m as adrift as a rowboat on the Serpentine. But it’s oddly refreshing, this sense of freedom. I have a vague impression of always being weighted down before, as if there were duties and obligations pressing in on me. Now,” he waved a hand, “all of that’s gone. There’s just the sunshine and the breeze and you sitting beside me. Almost perfect but for this.” He rapped his knuckles against the arm of his wheelchair.

I wasn’t going to be sidetracked. “Uh-huh. So, you have no clue where you came from or where you were headed before the car hit you?”

“None.” He sounded almost pleased at the fact.

I cleared my throat. “Listen, I don’t want to call an end to your…vacation, but you can’t stay in the hospital forever. Have you thought about where you’ll go when you leave?” A new thought struck me. “Or even how you’re going to pay your hospital bill?”

“Settling my account, you mean?”

“Certainly your account,” I exclaimed. “You didn’t expect to be fed and kept for free, did you?”

“Now that you mention it, I suppose that’s a valid concern.” He looked worried for the first time. “I’ve never been one to leave a debt unpaid. But,” he continued, his expression quickly clearing, “you’re not to worry, Miss Hurst. I’m certain these good people will accept some reasonable arrangement. I’ll write them a note promising to repay the debt as soon as I’m able and I’m sure they’ll be content to wait.”

I snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

But he looked so pleased with his solution I hadn’t the heart to launch into a lecture of how bills and payment actually worked in the twenty-first century. He’d find out soon enough. For the first time, I decided that whoever he was, Mystery Man must have come from a financially privileged background. Only the rich could afford to be so carefree about money.

“So, suppose you do escape the money situation. What next? Where are you going to go?”

“Naturally I’ll visit this Baltimore Metro you spoke of,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. I was beginning to realize that good looking and confident as he might be, this guy had a streak of naiveté that was going to get him into trouble—and me too if I wasn’t careful.

“And after you finish your subway ride, which incidentally you also have no money to pay for, what’s going to become of you then?”

He frowned. “Are you always so negative? The moment I answer one of your concerns, you meet me with another.”

Before I could respond, he continued. “I don’t know where I’ll go from there. But that’s a problem for another day. For today, let us simply enjoy the weather and this delicious—what do you call it? Coffichino?”

“Cappuccino or coffee,” I said distractedly.

A thought had struck me. “I wish you’d try a little harder to figure out what your name is,” I told him. “I can’t go on calling you Mystery Man.”

“Mystery Man?” He looked amused.

“Never mind, just give me a name. I’m past caring if it’s the right one,” I said.

He looked thoughtful for a minute and then reached into the pocket of his robe. When he withdrew his hand, he was holding the gold pocket watch I had returned to him yesterday. “I like keeping it close,” he said as if I had asked for an explanation.

I nodded. “It must be reassuring to have some tie to your past identity.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that a rather lovely lady once gave it to me.”

“Really?” I asked, interested. “Who?” Then I caught myself, blushing. “Oh, yeah…I forgot.”

What was with this man? He could recite cheesy lines straight out of a romance novel but say them as casually as if he were simply chatting about his health. Obviously such comments were nothing more than ordinary pleasantries to him, the sort he would offer anyone.

He flipped the watch open and turned it to face me. “D.C.,” he read aloud. “It’s the only thing I’ve got to go on.”

“Your initials maybe? Do they sound at all familiar?”

“Possibly.” His usual assurance sounded like it was wavering.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I told him, feeling suddenly sympathetic. “They don’t have to be your initials if you don’t want them to be. Maybe they stand for something else. Maybe a place—like Washington D.C.—or an occupation—like Dr. somebody-or-other. How about that? Do you think you could’ve been a doctor?”

“A physician? That feels unlikely. No, I can’t say I feel particularly close to any one occupation. I suspect I may have been a gentleman.”

I blinked. “Um, a gentleman isn’t an occupation. It’s more a state of manners. And anyway, trust me, there aren’t too many of those floating around the city nowadays.” I changed the subject. “How about if we forget the occupation for now and settle on a name for you? Maybe David?”

He offered a hint of one of those amazing smiles. “Why David?” he asked.

I realized it amused him, this prospect of being named like a pet.

I shrugged. “It starts with a D and it seems there’s at least a chance that’s your real initial.”

“Well, choose another. I don’t feel like a David.”

“Derek? Darrel? Donald?” I ran through every D name I could think of only to have all of them rejected. At length my companion grew impatient. “None of these are right. I won’t be called by someone else’s name.”

“I’m sorry, but unless your memory suddenly kicks into gear, these are what you’ve got to choose from.”

His face took on an almost petulant expression. “You know, I hadn’t thought it good manners to mention it until now but you’re a rather overbearing woman. Where I come from, well brought up young ladies are less opinionated.”

I passed over the opportunity to ask where this fabled kingdom of mindless women lay, since I was sure he would claim not to remember. Instead, I said, “Where I come from strangers are appreciative of those who try to help them.”

“I am chastened,” he said, though he didn’t sound it at all. “As I am in your debt, I’ll try to overlook your ill-bred exterior.”

“Thanks for the forbearance.” I snorted. “This peasant is grateful to receive your royal pardon.” Why ever had I wanted to help the man? Time to make my getaway.

I glanced at my watch. “And now it’s past noon and time for me to go. You’re getting irritable—I hear that’s the way of invalids—and I’ve got work to do.” I began gathering the remains from our meal and tossing the cups and napkins into a nearby trashcan.

“Work?”

“Yes. I’m sure this’ll come as a shock to your medieval mindset but around here even
ill-bred
women have to work for their daily bread.”

“Ah, I see.” He looked strangely uncomfortable.

I paused. “What? You want to say something?”

He looked awkward. “Possibly you’ll think I’m prying, our acquaintance being so brief. But you’re not a—I mean, that is to say…You don’t do anything
demeaning
do you?”

“Demeaning?” I couldn’t help laughing. “Nothing more demeaning than scrubbing toilets in supermarket restrooms. And that was back in high school. You could say my work these days is
looking
for work since I now belong to that dignified class called the unemployed.”

“Good. I am greatly relieved,” he said with a satisfied nod.

I raised my brows. “Okay, I’m glad you’re pleased to find me a jobless hobo, but now I’ve got to get going. On my way, I’ll grab one of those nurses to take you inside if you can’t wheel your way back on your own.” I looked around me. “Now where’d I put my purse? Ah! Here it is.” I snatched my bag up from the bench.

“Yes, you hurry along,” he said. “I’ll look for you around ten o’clock tomorrow. You may bring some more of these pastries and coffichinos when you return.”

“Return?” I was startled. “Who said I was coming back?”

“You promised a few moments ago to help me, so I took it for granted you meant to keep your word.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I protested. “I don’t remember making any promises. I was simply trying to get across to you that if a person
were
to try and help you, you should be grateful.”

“Very well,” he said passively. “If you are in the habit of breaking your promises—”

“Hey, nobody’s breaking any promises!” I argued, and then gave up. “Forget it. I’ll come back tomorrow if that’s what you want, although I don’t see what good I can possibly do you. Happy now?”

“Excessively so.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, Duke.”

“Duke?” His expression was puzzled.

I was a little surprised myself until I made the connection. “Yeah, you remind me of someone from a novel I’m reading called
Noble Hearts
. It’s about this—”

He interrupted, saying in a strange tone, “I believe I’m familiar with the story.”

“Oh? Seems like everybody’s read this book but me. Well, you’re like the duke from the novel. He expects everybody to bow and scrape for him too. Anyway, forget it.”

“No, I don’t believe I will,” he said thoughtfully. “Duke. I like the title. It can stay. It feels right somehow.”

I sighed. “I’m sure it does.” He did like to set himself up as a gentleman after all. “All right, I’ll see you in the morning.”

There was a moment’s awkward hesitation as I tried to decide if I was bound to say or do anything else. I hardly knew him really. Surely he didn’t merit a friendly hug even if he was in a wheelchair. And I was too miffed at this point for a polite handshake. In the end, I simply turned my back on him and walked off down the graveled path.