Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (10 page)

Rainer waited patiently, at least he hoped he looked patient. Inside he was a mass of confused emotions. Never had a woman done that to him, and he didn't know what to make of it. Was he reacting to the situation--the fact that his dear friend lay near death in the hospital? Did he pity them both? He couldn't answer his own questions.

How would he help them?

"It started right after we finished college," she said, her voice strained and shaky, her eyes hidden under long, sooty lashes and heavy eyelids as she gazed down at her cup.

"Okay," he said, trying to sound encouraging without being pushy.

"We decided we would go into business together--had dreamed of it for ages--correction, Heidi had dreamed of going into business together for ages. Or maybe it was mom." HaileyShe shrugged and sipped her tea. "It doesn't matter much. The end is the same. It didn't work. Hell, it destroyed us."

"How?" he asked, leaning forward and wishing his movement would draw the rest of the story from her. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She shook her head slowly. "No. I promised Mom I'd never talk about it, never dredge it up. It's done. It's over. And nothing's going to change." She fingered her cup's golden rim and fell silent. After a few moments, she added, "I'm sorry it came to this. Who would have thought..." She sniffled.

Frustrated with her refusal to tell him more, but understanding she needed time and patience, he handed her a napkin. She set her teacup on the ottoman and patted at her eyes and nose, both growing redder by the second.

He didn't know what to say. What to do. Being a family practice doctor hadn't prepared him for this--for helping a patient's family member, a friend's family member--through the kind of grief cancer brought. Usually, he referred patients to a specialist, and they heard the worst from that doctor.

Patient, friend. It didn't matter now. His personal experience told him nothing he said would be good enough.

This was Heidi's twin sister, the woman she'd been close to, had loved for over twenty-five years.

There had to be a way...

The paper napkin quickly turned to a sopping wet, wrung out mess, and he handed her a second one.

She silently thanked him, with a chuckle and a sloppy smile. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm reacting like this. She's going to be okay." She breathed deeply, the air leaving her chest in a loud huff, and looked into his eyes. "She's going to be okay."

He nodded. "I think she will. We still need to wait for your test results to make sure you're clear to donate."

"Make sure?" Her face paled. Her brows huddled together over her nose. "What would disqualify me? I'm a perfect match."

"Well, you could have an infection, cancer, or have antibodies your sister doesn't have."

"God."

"All those possibilities are unlikely. You don't have AIDS or any serious infections. You haven't been ill."

Her hands trembled as her fingertips traced her mouth. "What about the leukemia? Could I have it too?"

"There is a small chance."

She nodded.

"It's very slim, if that makes you feel any better. The type of cancer your sister has is usually linked to exposure to some sort of toxin."

"I don't care if I do. Hell, I probably deserve it--"

"Don't do that," he interrupted, drawing her hands from her face. He held them gently with his fingertips. When his thumb brushed the back of her hand, a jolt of heat shot up his arms. He ignored it, refusing to release her and refusing to acknowledge it or question what it meant.

She gazed down and then at his face.

"Don’t wish yourself sick," he continued. "It isn't going to happen, and it isn't going to help anyone. You need to be strong. Strong enough for both of you."

She tugged her hands free from his light grasp and picked up her teacup again. "You said something about antibodies?"

He watched her drink before answering. "Yes. For example, you're both Rh negative. If you were pregnant with an Rh positive child, you could have developed antibodies--"

The cup fell to the floor, its contents spilling, the delicate china shattering upon impact. He looked up at her face.

Her lips were the color of milk and shaped in a broad "O". Her hands, trembling even more than they had before, partially covered her mouth and cheeks.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, God."

He leaned forward and, taking her hands in his again, slowly eased them down to her knees. "What's wrong?"

"I was pregnant. A couple of years ago." She blinked away tears. The shimmering wetness slipped from the corners of her eyes, trickled down the sides of her nose and mouth before dripping from her chin. Her eyes closed, she tipped her head back. "When will it end?"

"When will what end?"

"The punishment," she said, her gaze fixed to his. "Is it certain? Does the body always produce antibodies in pregnancy?"

"No. Not always."

"When?"

His knees ached from his elbows jabbing into them, and he realized he'd been sitting that way for a long time. He let go of her hands and leaned back, settling himself into the couch cushions. A part of him wanted to ask more. Was burning to know what had happened. When had the woman sitting before him been pregnant, where the child was...

Instead, he switched to his clinical self and said, "When an Rh negative woman is pregnant with an Rh positive child, there is a small chance some of the unborn child's blood could be mixed with the mother's during the pregnancy. That risk is increased in birth and during a miscarriage." He watched her as she mentally digested what he said, then added, "But if you received Rhogam shots, the risk is dramatically lowered."

"It is?"

He nodded. "You did have the shots then, didn't you?"

"I think so. I don't remember. It's very hazy."

Those words brought dozens of questions to mind, but he kept them to himself. This woman was not only a mystery, but also an anathema. He shouldn't allow himself to be drawn in by her intrigue, couldn't afford to make another mistake with a woman.

Most importantly, he couldn't hurt Heidi. What if she was in love with him, for God's sake? There was no way he could live with another death on his shoulders.

Two was more than enough for one man to bear.

Determined to distance himself from Hailey, he stood. He smiled as he spoke, hoping it would soften his hasty departure. "I'm sure your test results will come out fine, and we'll be scheduling the procedure in the next few days. In the meantime, you need to get plenty of rest, take care of yourself. You're no good to anyone if you become sick."

Hailey stood, anxious to get away from the man before her. Anxious to hide from his interrogation, anxious to hide from the feelings he stirred. "You're right. Good night, Rainer." Turning from him, she brushed past him to the door. The scent of his cologne made her pause for a split second before she continued across the room. Without glancing back, she called before she stepped into the hallway, "See you in the morning."

Once safely tucked away in her room, in his guestroom, she changed into a pair of sweats and slipped into the cool bed. But, of course, the Sandman's arrival wasn't hasty, and she lay wide-awake for hours. Memories of she and Heidi as children played through her mind, and memories of the past day, too. All were unsettling.

Occasionally, she peered at the red glowing numbers on the digital clock. Midnight, two A.M., three-thirty, four-thirty... She felt as though each minute lumbered by, heavy as an elephant.

The weightiest question, the one that came to mind the most, was not whether Heidi would survive. She wouldn't allow herself to question that. It was a given. She had to.

No, the question that came to mind over and over was whether Rainer and Heidi had been lovers. For some reason, whether her sister and Rainer had been involved mattered to her. More than she liked to admit. His behavior wasn't typical of a doctor. It wasn't typical of a friend, either. None of her friends in Sequoia Valley would fly across the country and drag her unwilling sister back with them, would they?

She sat up, frustrated with herself. Annoyed by her thoughts. What difference did it make, anyway? Who cared what past Heidi and Rainer shared? She didn't. She had a great life back in California. She had great friends, a gorgeous home, a business of her own, a new marine mammal rescue shelter to build.

Besides, after she donated her stem cells, Rainer would be a distant memory. Her trip to Detroit would be a distant memory. The chemistry that zapped between them would be a distant memory.

She hoped.

Certain she wouldn't be sleeping, she got out of bed, showered, dressed, packed her bags and readied for the trip home. A long flight, and no one to chat with like she'd had on the way to Detroit. A cold emptiness settled upon her, making her even more frustrated and annoyed.

She loved her life, darn it! She had everything she'd ever wanted. What did she need with a controlling doctor, a sister who hated her and a mother who refused to acknowledge her presence upon the earth for the umpteenth time in her life?

Her garment bag slung over her shoulder, she crept down the stairs. When she reached the foyer, she set it down and rummaged through her purse for her wallet. The ride to the airport would take at least an hour. A taxi would probably cost at least thirty dollars. She had to make sure she had that much cash on hand. She'd foolishly thrown that hundred away, something she'd never normally do.

"Going somewhere?" Rainer's sleepy, deep voice sounded, sending pulsing heat up her back.

She didn't stop what she was doing. "Yes. I have a flight to catch."

"Your flight doesn't leave until two--this afternoon. It's six-thirty. I don't think you need to be there seven hours ahead of time, although security's tight and check-in is slow."

"I thought I might be able to fly stand-in on an earlier flight." She slipped her wallet from her purse and opened it, cussing when she found only twenty dollars. She shouldn't have been so careless with her money. That one impulsive action had left her nearly cashless, at Rainer's mercy. Now, she realized what a fool she was for not having an ATM card.

What had been her objection to them? Darn if she could remember anymore. Funny how some beliefs looked so stupid, even pointless, in different circumstances. At home, she had no problem getting to her credit union when she needed cash, and she'd brought all the cash she'd thought she would need for a couple of days.

How would she get to the airport?

"How about putting your travel plans on hold for an hour or so. You should eat some breakfast. I bought some juice and bagels. Thought you might like some. Flying on an empty stomach isn't the wisest thing to do."

Did he want her to stay longer? Was that regret she heard in his voice? She refused to turn around and look at him as another wave of heat shimmied down her body. She could feel him. He was close.

"Yeah, you have a point. I guess I could handle a slight delay." She stepped forward before turning around. When she saw him, her face flamed. He wore a pair of sweats and a tank top, one of those white ones that cling to every ripple and plane. Did he look good! "I have a business waiting for me, you understand."

He smiled. "Sure, I do. But what'll a little breakfast hurt?"

"Fine." She hesitated, not wanting to force by him. She stood in the corner, next to the front door, her wallet in her hand, her purse sitting on the narrow table. He blocked her egress in any direction. When had the man become so big? She tipped her head toward the kitchen. "Why don't you go ahead. Get things ready. I'll be there in a minute."

"Sure." He lingered for a moment, studying her. She nodded again, and he turned, walking with a slow, deliberate stride. Before he went around the bend in the hallway, he said over his shoulder, "I'll call for a cab. It'll be here by the time we're done eating. They take forever in these parts."

"Thanks," she said, stuffing her wallet into her purse and following him to the kitchen. She stood inside the doorway and watched him as he gathered their breakfast. His hair was slightly rumpled, and she had the instant impulse to reach out and smooth it back in place, to feel its silken softness.

To her chagrin, she also noticed something else. The way his biceps cut lean lines in his arms when he reached overhead to get a glass from the cupboard. When he lowered his arm, the muscles of his shoulders tensed and flexed. Her pulse quickened, and she turned away, sitting at the glass-topped dinette table and looking out the French door. She was being an idiot gawking at him!

"Orange-pineapple or apple?" he asked as she stared at the stained cedar deck and the lush green beyond.

"Apple. Thanks."

"Plain or salt?" he asked from closer.

"Salt." She tried to ignore the unwelcome rush of awareness. It was as though her entire body was tuned into him. An electric hum filled the air. Soft, almost indiscernible. What the heck? She turned toward the sound.

He stood at the counter, in front of the toaster. She jumped at the sudden pop as it spit out the bagels. Then she chuckled to herself and looked outside again. A tiny brown bird swooped from above and landed on the deck railing. It called out a cheery song then took flight again.