LITMIR.BIZ

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In her weakened state, Nora just had to know Brendan Grant was an all-around phenomenal guy.

      The doctor repeated some of the questions Brendan had asked her earlier, shone a light in her eye, got her to follow the movement of his finger.

      “I should keep you for observation, too.”

      “I can’t!” she said. “I have animals that will need feeding in—” her eyes flew to a nearby clock “—two hours.”

      The doctor sighed. “He said you’d say that. I’m going to send you home, but with strict instructions what to watch for. And what to do for the next few hours. Any dizziness, any nausea, any loss of consciousness, you come right back in. I’ll give you a handout with symptoms you need to watch for over the next few days. Sometimes even weeks later symptoms can come up.”

      After having the nurse go over the sheet with her, they let her go. Brendan was in the waiting room.

      “You didn’t have to wait.”

      “Uh-huh. How were you going to get home? And collect your nephew?”

      “Taxi, I guess.”

      “And would the taxi driver be watching you for signs of concussion?” Brendan held up duplicates of the instructions the doctor had given her.

      The truth was she was glad she did not have to worry about a taxi right now, or how to find Luke. She was glad this man was in charge. And she might have a concussion, so it was okay to be weak. Just this once. Just for tonight.

      The animals needed to be fed in a few hours.

      She felt like weeping.

      Brendan was watching her closely.

      “Are you okay?”

      “Yes,” she said firmly.

      But just as if he hadn’t heard her, he slipped his arm around her waist, and just as if she hadn’t claimed she was okay, she leaned heavily into him.

      They collected Luke and, since no one had any idea when Deedee would be home, recaptured Charlie. Nora tried to stay awake and couldn’t. She awoke to find herself in Brendan Grant’s arms for the second time that night.

      There was absolutely no fight left in her.

      None.

      Because Luke was bringing Charlie into the house instead of out to the barn. She didn’t allow any of the animals in the house. How could she? If she did, soon they would be overrun!

      But she just didn’t have the energy to make a fuss about it right now. Instead, she snuggled deep into Brendan’s reassuring strength and let him carry her into her house and up the stairs to her room.

      “Is she okay?” Luke asked, pointing Brendan to a room on the right of a narrow hallway. He disappeared with Charlie and the cat carrier into a doorway farther up the hall.

      “She’s just done in,” Brendan assured him. He nudged open the door and hesitated on the threshold of Nora’s room.

      It was confirmed she was completely, one hundred percent single. No man could be trusted with so much white: white walls, white curtains, white pillows, white bedspread. Her room reminded him of innocence. There was something alarmingly bridal about it.

      And that was the last thing Brendan wanted to be thinking of as he carried Nora Anderson across the threshold!

      He looked down at her and felt a wave of relief. Still wrapped in his too large jacket, mud from head to toe, she was the world’s least likely bride. In fact, her bridal vision of a room was about to be damaged by her muddy little self.

      Brendan took a deep breath, stepped in, and quickly made his way to the bed, where he set her on the edge.

      Luke appeared in the doorway. “Anything I can do?”

      “Oh, Luke,” Nora said. “Where did he come from? You know the rules. We can’t have animals in the house.”

      Brendan turned, expecting to see Luke had Charlie. Instead, he had a black-and-white kitten riding in the palm of his hand.

      “This one’s different,” Luke said. “I’m calling him Ranger.”

      “We don’t name them!”

      Luke looked mutinous. “I’m keeping him. For my own.”

      Nora chewed her lip. “We need to talk about that,” she said.

      “But not tonight,” Brendan said firmly. “Luke, can you get rid of the kitten for now, and find me a flashlight?”

      He disappeared and came back, with no kitten, but a flashlight.

      “Shine it right in your aunt’s eyes. Do you see what it does to her pupils? That’s called dilation. It’s very important that both her pupils are dilating in the same way. I need you to try it.”

      The boy grasped the flashlight without any hesitation. Brendan was going to take it as a good sign that Luke was not nearly as rebellious as his aunt was.

      “Yes, her eyes are doing the same thing. The black part is getting smaller when I hold the light up.”

      “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!”

      “Good. That’s exactly what you are looking for. You need to wake her up every hour after I leave and check her eyes. If you see a change you need to call 9-1-1.”

      “There’s no need to frighten him!” Nora protested.

      “I’m not frightening him. I’m asking him to step up to the plate. I’m treating him like a man.”

      Luke puffed up a bit at that.

      “Well, he’s not a man.”

      And then deflated.

      “He’s not a child, either.”

      The boy puffed up again.

      “Either he checks you or I stay for the night.”

      She blanched at that, then folded her arms over her chest with ill grace and glared at him. That settled, Brendan conducted some very simple tests on his unwilling patient while Luke watched.

      “The doctor already did this.”

      “Luke needs to see what to do.”

      Finally, Brendan was satisfied. “Do you need anything? A drink of warm milk, maybe?”

      “Oh.”

      There was something kind of sweet and kind of sad about her surprise that anyone would look after her.

      “That would be nice,” she said shyly.

      “Luke, can you go warm some milk?”

      Luke left and Brendan leaned over and pulled off her shoes. Gently, he tugged the jacket off her.

      “I can do it!”

      “It’s not as if you’re in a see-through negligee.”

      She scowled at him, but let him free each of her limbs from the jacket.

      He pretended not to notice her pajama top at all, but it was adorable. How was it a pink pajama top with kittens on it that said Purrfectly Purrfect Me could be more sexy than a negligee?

      “Stand up for a minute,” he ordered. She did, and he deftly pulled back the white quilt. Surprise, surprise, pure white sheets.

      He guided her under the covers. She sank into her bed, then struggled to sit up. “Set the alarm. I have to be up. I have to feed the animals in two hours.”

      The clock was holding down some papers on a bedside table. He could tell now wouldn’t be the best time to relate what the doctor had told him. She had to rest. Completely. For at least twenty-four hours. She wasn’t even supposed to look at a computer screen or read.

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