Loving Laura (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy) (7 page)

After he left, Laura wondered what Norman was doing right now. If his sisters and brother...

His brother.

Every time she thought about Neil Cantrelle she saw his eyes, dark, still, questioning eyes that seemed to be searching out all her secrets. Eyes that made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

Eyes she couldn’t forget.

* * *

Neil watched Norman’s eyes as Dr. Dunado matter-of- factly explained what had happened during and after the accident. He saw the pain, then the shock, then the terror, then the panic. He felt Norman’s hands begin to shake. The monitor bleeped louder and faster.

But the doctor seemed ready for this reaction because he soothed him until his heartbeat returned to normal. Then he walked around to the side of the bed where Neil stood.

“Will you stay with him?” he said in a low tone.

“For as long as he needs me.”

“Good. He’ll probably fall asleep soon. The medication keeps him pretty sleepy. In the meantime, I’ll go out and talk to your parents.”

Neil nodded, then sat by the bedside until Norman finally fell asleep. Only then did he rise and with a weary sigh, push open the door and escape to the hum of activity outside.

“Bad, huh?” a tiny nurse with big dimples asked.

Neil nodded. He was incapable of speech. Dreading facing his parents, he delayed the moment when he’d have to go out to the waiting area by kneeling to tie the laces on his running shoes.

Finally he could put off the moment no longer. He braced himself, then walked out the double doors.

“Neil!” His mother rushed to his side, her eyes anxious. His father followed more slowly. This morning Nicole had accompanied them, and Denise stayed home with her family. All three pairs of eyes sought his.

“How did he take the news?” his father asked.

“Is he okay?” This came from Nicole.

Neil shrugged. “He was shocked. And he’s scared. But the doctor talked to him, even explained to him that with an artificial leg he’ll be able to do just about anything he did before.” Neil sighed. “I don’t know if Norman believed the doctor, but at least he calmed down. He’s asleep again.”

“Blessed Mother,” his mother whispered. “Please help him.”

Just then one of the nurses strode out of the intensive care unit, looked down the hall, then beckoned to Neil.

“The duty nurse from two just called,” she said. “Laura Sebastian is asking to see you or your sister.”

Neil knew she meant Denise. He guessed he’d better go.

When he entered Laura’s room a few minutes later, she was sitting propped up in bed, and she looked ten times better than she had the day before. Sunshine streamed in the window, and Neil noticed how the golden streaks in her hair glistened. Someone had obviously tried to freshen her appearance, because as he walked closer, he could see that her face was scrubbed and shining, and her hair had been brushed to the side. She had nice hair, he thought, straight and glossy, with a slight curl at the ends.

“Hi,” she said softly. Then hesitantly, she smiled.

It wasn’t much of a smile, as smiles go, but its impact went like an arrow straight through Neil’s heart. There was something heartrending about the smile—crooked, tremulous, almost diffident. As if she were afraid of his reaction if she smiled at him. An apologetic smile.

Neil knew instinctively that she wasn’t the kind of woman accustomed to having her wishes granted by bestowing a smile. Not like his ex-wife, who had expected people to jump through hoops when she smiled. Neil pushed the thought of Erica away. He’d promised himself long ago that he wouldn’t waste another moment thinking about her.

“How are you doing today?” he said now.

“I feel much better, thanks.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.” He meant it. Even though he’d had twinges when he thought about Norman being so seriously hurt while Laura had emerged almost unscathed, he didn’t really feel any animosity toward her. It wasn’t her fault Norman had tried to protect her and probably was more critically hurt than he would have been if he hadn’t swerved to take the brunt of the collision. That was just the breaks. Hell, Neil probably would have done the same thing. That was the way they’d been raised. A man always tried to protect a woman. Period. Women’s lib didn’t enter into the Cajun philosophy.

“The reason I wanted to see you is that the doctor says I can probably go home tomorrow, but I..." She hesitated, looking up at him squarely.

Whew, he thought. Those eyes are really something. The full force of their intense color hit him.

“But?” he prompted.

“I . . . I don’t have a way home,” she said in a rush. “Do you think you could ask Denise to pick me up in the morning?”

Denise was right, he thought. That apologetic tone and the wistful look in her eyes when she asked a simple favor said Laura Sebastian was a woman who had been taught to believe that she wasn’t worth much so she shouldn’t expect much.

Neil wondered who had done this to her. No wonder Norman had been attracted to her. He’d always been the kind of person who had taken in strays, both animals and people. Norman’s approach to their problems was there was nothing a good, hot meal wouldn’t fix. He would have latched on to Laura Sebastian no matter what she looked like, simply because he’d have to be completely blind not to see how much she needed someone to care about her.

But Neil was revising his opinion of her looks, too. Maybe she wasn’t movie-star beautiful, but those eyes of hers combined with that nice skin—even that smattering of topaz freckles across her nose—and that shiny hair and sweet smile—well, there was definitely something about her that got under your skin.

“Sure,” he said. He would do better than that. He would take her home himself.

The following day, after spending the morning with Norman, who drifted in and out of sleep, Neil pulled into the circular drive in front of the hospital at noon. He got out and helped the orderly who had wheeled Laura downstairs in a wheelchair. Neil took her arm and helped her stand. She was taller than he’d imagined her to be. Neil was almost six feet tall, so she must be close to five feet nine. But tall or not, he still felt that odd protectiveness as he helped her into the front passenger seat. She fumbled with the seat belt, and he realized that she was still weak and shaky. He helped her fasten the belt, and their fingers brushed, sending a little jolt of electricity through him. Her gaze met his, and for a minute he felt disconcerted. Those eyes were enough to make a person forget his name. They had the clearest, most direct gaze he’d ever seen.

“Does the seat belt bother you?” he asked. He knew her ribs must hurt.

“No, it’s okay.”

He had a feeling she’d say it was okay no matter how it felt. He shut the door, then walked around to his side and got in. Within minutes they were on their way.

“Looking forward to getting home?”

“Yes.” She looked out the window.

She sure wasn’t a talker, he thought. He wasn’t much of a talker himself, but for some reason, he felt uncomfortable with the silence between them.

“They told me you were allowed to see Norman last night.”

“Yes.” There was a little catch in her voice.

Neil slanted a look at her. Her hands trembled in her lap. He was suddenly ashamed of himself. She was upset, and he wasn’t helping matters by questioning her. He, of all people, should have known that when life has dealt you something tough, you need time to adjust before you can face the world.

For the rest of the forty-minute drive Neil didn’t attempt to make conversation. Instead, he thought about what Denise had told him about Laura. The more time he spent with Laura, the more he realized how complex she was. He also felt a strong sense of foreboding, because Norman was basically a very simple person. Neil really couldn’t imagine someone like Laura marrying someone like Norman, but then, he’d seen stranger matches. Maybe he was worrying for nothing. Maybe it would all work out.

Finally they arrived at the duplex, and he pulled into the driveway. Denise must have been watching for them, because she came bounding out of the house and down the front steps. She reached Laura’s door before Neil did.

“Laura, honey!” She yanked the door open, and with Neil on one side, and her on the other, they helped Laura out and up the walk, then onto the porch. Dozens of wind chimes hanging on Laura’s side of the porch jingled merrily in the breeze.

Denise unlocked Laura’s door.

“I didn’t expect you to be here. Shouldn’t you be at the restaurant?” Laura asked.

“Elaine MacAllister’s helping out for a couple of days.”

The minute they walked through the door, two longhaired cats rubbed up against Laura. Neil wasn’t crazy about cats, but he had to admit these two were beautiful. The one she called Pete was gray and white with a bushy tail and clear green eyes. He was aggressive and friendly, abandoning Laura to come up to Neil. Neil couldn’t resist kneeling to pet him, and he purred. Phoebe, the female, seemed shy but sweet.

“She’s a snowshoe,” Laura informed him. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” The cat was a mixture of champagne, white, and deep brown with light blue eyes.

“Come on, Laura, you’ve got to sit down,” Denise said.

Neil felt like excess baggage as Denise fussed over Laura, settling her onto the faded blue couch in the living room and covering her with an afghan. Pete hopped up on the back of the couch and hunkered down with his paws tucked under him. His alert eyes watched everything. Phoebe settied at Laura’s feet, snuggling up against the afghan. Her eyes were more wary, less accepting. Like me, Neil thought. She’s reserving her opinion.

“Are you hungry?” Denise asked. “I’ve got a casserole in the oven at home just waiting for someone to eat it.”

Laura shook her head.

“I am,” Neil said.

“You haven’t changed,” Denise said, making a face. Then she turned back to Laura. “You’ve got to eat something. I’ll go next door and get the food. Neil will stay here with you.”

Neil couldn’t help grinning. “Still bossy, I see.”

Denise smiled back. She looked happier today, maybe because she was doing something concrete instead of sitting around worrying. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Neil sat in a worn armchair. Laura looked at her hands, which were clasped loosely in her lap. Her head was bent, and her hair fell forward, hiding her face. A clock ticked loudly, and Neil looked away. The clock was an old- fashioned mantel clock that sat on top of a scarred maple buffet. It suddenly struck Neil that everything in the room had seen much better days, although the room wasn’t depressing. Little homey touches were everywhere: in the gaily colored braided rugs that dotted the hardwood floor, in the healthy-looking plants that sat in clay pots on the windowsills and in the corners, in the bright hues of the pillows that adorned the couch, and especially in the big wicker basket of yarn that sat next to a maple rocking chair in the corner. He noticed the basket was covered with plastic wrap. He grinned. He imagined her cats would have a field day with the yarn if she left it unprotected.

He also noticed she had filled the built-in bookshelves with dozens of books, both paperback and hardbound. Most of them seemed to be mysteries, Agatha Christie type whodunits, which surprised Neil. Then he smiled. If he wasn’t mistaken—he squinted to try to read the title—she had a duplicate of his volume of Keats’s poetry. For some reason, this pleased him enormously.

When he looked toward her again, she was studying him. She quickly dropped her eyes, but pink stained her cheeks.

Embarrassed because I caught her, he thought. She seemed to be as nervous and on edge around him as he was around her. Well, they’d have to get it out in the open. This pussyfooting around wasn’t Neil’s style.

“Are you engaged to Norman?” he asked.

Her head jerked up. The flush on her face deepened, and her eyes were bright pinpoints of blue. She blinked. “I—”

“Tell me the truth,” he said. He had no time to be subtle. He had to decide what to do if she wasn’t going to be any help in the hard days ahead for Norman.

She bit her bottom lip, sighed, then met his gaze with a direct one of her own. “No.”

“But he has asked you to marry him?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And I had promised to give him an answer the night of the accident.” Her voice was soft, but she didn’t look away.

“Had you decided on an answer?” Neil said gently.

She picked at the afghan. “Yes.” A look of weariness passed over her face. “I was going to turn him down.”

“I see.” Poor Norman.

Her eyes were filled with unhappiness. “I—I wished things could be different. It would have been perfect to be able to accept his offer. Norman’s so nice, and he’s been very good to me. But in the end, those are the very reasons I couldn’t. I just couldn’t lie to him. I’m not in love with him.”

The words drummed through Neil’s mind as he met her direct gaze. For one heartbeat, Neil knew exactly how Norman would feel when he knew the truth, how unbearable it would be to realize Laura wouldn’t be his.

But Norman didn’t know yet. He still thought there was a chance. He still had hope. Maybe... no. Neil immediately dismissed the thought. He would never ask her to lie. But he
could
ask her to wait.

Please don’t tell him until he’s well.”

Laura wasn’t quick to anger, but Neil’s assumption that she would even consider telling Norman now made her furious. Oh, she knew where Neil was coming from; he was very worried about Norman. Well, so was she.

Fighting to keep her anger from erupting, she said stiffly, “I didn’t intend to.” She was gratified to see a sheepish look pass over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was insensitive of me.” Laura didn’t want to, but she felt a reluctant tug of admiration. It took guts to admit you were wrong. Lots of men had trouble doing it. “Yes, it was. I know you’re only thinking of Norman’s welfare,” she said softly, “but—”

“But this is really none of my business.” A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and he pushed it back in an impatient gesture. “I just feel so frustrated,” he admitted.