Love Comes Silently(Senses 1) (10 page)

I
T LOOKED like spring had finally arrived in northern Michigan. It was early May, and Patrick was working in the yard, clearing the last of winter’s debris out of the bushes. He was careful not to disturb the sprouting bulbs as they reached for the spring sun. Patrick had seen Hanna and Ken a number of times over the past month, and they’d even asked him to dinner, which he really appreciated, even if Ken’s cooking hadn’t improved much. Patrick had taken some dinner over at least once a week, usually some of the “mac-cheese” that Hanna loved so much. He’d taken some over yesterday, but Hanna hadn’t greeted him at the door the way she usually did. Instead, Ken had said she was sleeping, but he looked all worried, and Patrick wanted desperately to ask if she was all right. Instead, he’d stood there staring into Ken’s eyes, hoping for some sort of answer, but all he’d gotten was more confused as anxious energy rolled off Ken.

So now he was outside working, watching Ken’s house like a hawk for any sign of activity, but he saw nothing. Ken’s car was parked out front, and he wanted to ask Ken about Hanna, he even had a note in his pocket all written, but he stayed away and kept working and watching.

“Patrick,” a familiar voice called, and he looked up as Julianne strode toward him with a smile on her face. “I expected you to be in your shop,” she teased, and Patrick gave her his best annoyed stare. “I know. On a day like this, you couldn’t help being outside.” Patrick leaned on his rake, and his eyes traveled to Ken’s front door and then back to Julianne. She followed his gaze and then looked back at him. “So that’s what you’re doing out here.” She glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. “Have you turned into a busybody?”

Patrick turned away, snorting slightly through his nose as he headed toward his front door. He knew she’d follow him, and sure enough, she did. Patrick found a pad and quickly scrawled his message. “
I’m worried about Hanna. When I took them over some dinner, Ken looked scared, and Hanna was asleep
,” he wrote, handing the paper to her before going to the front window, parting the curtains so he could peer out.

Patrick nodded, wishing for the millionth time that he had his voice back even for a few minutes so he could tell her what he was feeling, but it took too long to write everything down, and he wasn’t sure he could express what he wanted to anyway. Instead, he nodded as he let the curtain fall back into place. Patrick motioned her toward the kitchen, then followed her in and put on a pot of coffee before getting two mugs out of the cupboard. He also opened a tin of misshapen cookies that Hanna and Ken had brought by last week. He’d kept them wrapped tight, and while, like the others they brought over, they were a bit of a mess, they tasted good, and Patrick thought of Ken and Hanna whenever he ate one. He pushed the tin toward Julianne, who took one out and began to laugh. Patrick snatched the cookie out of her hand and put it back in the tin with a glare.

“She made those, didn’t she?” Julianne asked as she tentatively reached for another cookie. “I’d like to meet them sometime.” Patrick watched as Julianne took a bite of cookie and smiled. “So I have a question for you,” she began as Patrick got the pot of coffee and filled both mugs. “You’ve been buying all kinds of things lately. Barbie dolls, tea sets, have they all been for her?” Patrick gave her his best “who else” look. “Have you told them yet?”

Patrick shook his head as he reached for the pad. “
I don’t want them to know. I’m happy knowing I made Hanna smile
,” he wrote.

“You should really tell him,” Julianne said as she sipped her coffee. “You really like and care for both of them. They deserve to know that.”

Patrick shook his head violently and snatched back the pad. “
What if he…
,” Patrick began and then scratched it out. “
How could he…
,” he began again and then scratched it out one more time. “
He won’t feel the same way
,” he finally scribbled and handed the pad to Julianne.

When she read the paper, Julianne’s eyes went all gooey. Patrick had to stifle the urge to throw her out. “Sorry, but, Patrick, honey, what if he likes you too?” Julianne asked. “And don’t roll your eyes at me again. It’s becoming annoying.” Julianne sipped from her mug with a small smile threatening to break out on her pink lips. “I know you’ve had it really hard since the accident, but there’s no reason why Ken wouldn’t like you.” Julianne set down her mug, and Patrick stepped back from the counter. “Stop that,” Julianne chastised. “I’m serious. You’re an incredibly loving and caring man. Anyone you let get close to you can see that. But that’s the problem—you won’t let anyone close.” Julianne glared at him. “Instead, you’d rather leave boxes of things on the front step for the daughter of the guy you like rather than just letting him know how you feel.” Julianne picked up her mug again and grabbed another cookie. “Paddy, you know I love you, but you need to consider taking a chance. You can’t keep yourself cooped up here all the time.”

Patrick figured he could, and he scowled at her for using that ridiculous nickname. After snatching back the pad, he plopped it on the counter. “
I don’t want to get hurt again
,” Patrick wrote and pushed the pad to Julianne before pulling it back again. “
You can understand that, can’t you
?” he added.

“Of course I can,” Julianne told him. “But if you don’t take a chance, you’ll never find out what could possibly happen. I know you’ve been in love, and I know you remember how wonderful it felt. You can feel that again if you allow yourself to.”

Patrick heard what she was saying, but honestly, h e didn’t believe it. Ken was gorgeous, with his deep blue eyes and the face of the sexiest angel in heaven. He’d been spending much of the winter undressing Ken Brighton with his imagination, but the thought of approaching him, only to get his heart broken, was something he couldn’t do.

“Think about it,” Julianne said. She finished her coffee before walking toward the front door. “Stop by for dinner this weekend, okay?” Patrick nodded, and she hurried back, kissing him on the cheek before saying good-bye and leaving the house.

Patrick put the mugs in the sink and turned off the lights, then pulled on his gloves again before heading back outside. Patrick opened the door and stepped outside into the crisp spring air and heard Julianne’s voice. Following the sound, he saw her standing beside Ken’s car as he was almost literally throwing things in the trunk. “I’m Patrick’s cousin, Julianne, and if there’s anything we can do to help, don’t hesitate to let us know.” Patrick saw Julianne thrust a scrap of paper into Ken’s hand.

“Thank you,” Ken said with more than a hint of panic in his voice as he got in the car and closed the door. Patrick approached the car, standing next to Julianne as the engine started. Patrick looked in the back and saw Hanna in her seat, head slumped against the window. She looked like she might be asleep, but even through the glass, Patrick could see how frail and small she looked. Hanna was sick again, and Patrick gasped as the car pulled away from the curb, tires nearly screaming as it raced down the street.

Julianne turned to him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me that little girl was totally adorable?” She looked teary, and Patrick knew her huge heart was aching for Ken and Hanna, and she’d barely met them. Patrick shrugged and tried not to look like she’d just asked him the stupidest question on earth. “Sorry, but seeing her kicked in all the fears I’ve ever had about Todd.”

Patrick nodded, turning his eyes to where Ken’s car was turning onto the main road. He could kick himself for not going over and somehow finding out what was wrong. He’d known it and had done nothing.

“They’re on their way to the hospital in Marquette. I heard him tell the little girl as he placed her in the car,” Julianne said as she wiped hereyes. Patrick seemed rooted on the spot, worried about Hanna and aching at the glimpse of the panic he’d seen in Ken’s eyes. Another slap brought him out of his thoughts, and he rubbed his shoulder. She might have been small, but Julianne packed a wallop.

“Do you really like him?” Julianne asked, and Patrick thought for a second before nodding multiple times. “Then get your butt in the car and follow him. He’s going to be alone at the hospital and worried sick. If you care, then you need to be there for him.” She was practically yelling at him. “It’s time to pull your head out of your butt and decide what you want.” She poked him in the chest for emphasis. “You’ve wallowed in self-pity and isolation for two freakin’ years.” Julianne stomped toward her car. “I love ya, but you drive me crazy sometimes,” Julianne said as she hurried back to give him a quick hug. Then she rushed away, and Patrick heard her sniff a few times as she got in the car.

Patrick watched her go, staring down the street, but not seeing anything at all. “Damn it,” he swore before grabbing the rake from where he’d left it leaning against the house. He’d reached for it intending to go back to work, but instead he now carried it to the garage and put it away. Now that he’d decided, Patrick hurriedly turned out the lights and locked the house before rushing back to the garage and getting into his car. He was on the road toward Marquette within a matter of minutes.

He’d made the drive a million times, but never in ten minutes flat. Thankful he hadn’t been pulled over, Patrick parked outside the hospital emergency room and hurried inside. “Can I help you?” the woman behind a glass window asked, and Patrick stopped cold. He began to motion for a pen and paper. “Are you having trouble breathing?” she asked, and Patrick took a deep breath to show her he wasn’t. Reaching through the hole in the glass, he grabbed a pen and pad. “
I’m mute
,” he wrote first. “
I’m looking for Ken Brighton and his daughter
.” He handed the pad to her.

“You aren’t here for yourself?” she asked, and Patrick shook his head. The woman looked relieved and began typing. “Please have a seat,” she told him, and Patrick sat in the waiting area, glancing around him. A few minutes later, he was called, and he followed the woman through a set of doors that opened for him. They closed by themselves, and Patrick followed her down a hallway to a small room where Hanna lay in a bed. She looked so tiny, with a mask over her nose and mouth, her eyes closed, her small body looking lost under all the covers.

Ken stood up, looking shocked, worried, and scared. “I thought she had the flu,” Ken explained and began to cry. Patrick had no words of comfort. Those had been taken away, so he stepped closer and tugged Ken into a hug. He felt the other man stiffen at first, but then Ken’s warm body melted to his and Patrick held him tighter. He wanted to say that everything would be okay, that the doctors would figure out what was happening and be able to help Hanna, but he couldn’t. All Patrick could do was hold Ken as tightly as he could to let him know that he was there. Instead of using words, he had to use touch.

Patrick heard Hanna mumble, and he loosened his embrace, peering over Ken’s shoulder. Hanna’s eyes were open. Ken stepped away and turned to Hanna, sitting in the chair next to the bed and taking her tiny hand in his. “Patrick came to see how you are,” Ken told her, and she nodded slightly before closing her eyes once again. “They don’t know much right now,” Ken told him quietly, anticipating his question. Ken stood up and motioned Patrick toward the chair. Patrick shook his head, but Ken motioned again. “She knows you’re here.”

Patrick relu ctantly sat down and took Hanna’s hand. She mumbled something softly under the mask, and Patrick felt her give his hand the slightest squeeze. Patrick lightly stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, looking at her, marveling at how quickly a six-year-old girl could steal his heart. He felt tears well in his eyes and he blinked them away until he looked at Ken and saw the same tears in his eyes. He was such a goner. Sitting in that chair with Hanna’s hand in his, Patrick knew he’d given his heart to both of them. The walls he’d constructed to protect himself from the pain and barbs of the world cracked and threatened to crumble as he sat in the hospital chair.

“This must be Mr. Patrick,” a woman said from the foot of Hanna’s bed, and he looked up. “I’m Dr. Pierson. Hanna has told me a lot about you during her visits.” The doctor began examining Hanna, removing the mask so she could look at her face and then placing it carefully over her mouth and nose once again. “We need to determine what’s happening, so I’ve ordered some tests for tomorrow. We’re going to move her into a room and make her as comfortable as we can.”

“Thank you,” Ken said softly. “I thought she had the flu,” he added helplessly, and Patrick touched Ken lightly on the shoulder. He knew Ken was beating himself up over what had happened.

“I know you did, and a day or two wasn’t going to make any difference. From what’s on her chart, I would have suspected the same thing,” the doctor said gently to Ken. “We’ll find out what’s happening, and we’ll figure out a treatment plan if we need one. We’re going to take a little blood now so we can get started, and then as soon as we get a room ready, we’ll move her up there.” The doctor prepared to leave, and Ken thanked her before walking around to the other side of the bed. Patrick began to stand up, but Ken motioned him back down as he took Hanna’s other hand in his and stood on the far side of the bed, looking at his daughter. Ken’s lips quivered, and his eyes filled with pain and fear. Patrick felt the same emotions welling inside him, but he couldn’t begin to fathom what Ken was feeling.

Patrick knew how he’d felt when the doctors had told him he’d never talk or sing again. The next blow had come when he hadn’t been able to prove them wrong. He’d thought his life was over, and more than once he’d simply wished he would die. Patrick had thought of ending it all, but in the end he’d withdrawn into himself and moved back home. If anything happened to Hanna, Patrick knew Ken would feel many of those same things, and his heart ached because he’d do anything to keep Ken from feeling so lost and alone.