Wishmakers (31 page)

“I got him a sandwich from the vending machine, but he was asleep before he could eat the whole thing. Did you get Ethel checked in?”

“Yes. Has the doctor said anything?”

“He said they had put her on life support systems, and that another doctor had been called in. Sit down, Gloria. We can't do anything but wait.”

She sat down with a deep sigh, and when he reached for her hand she curled her fingers tightly around his and gripped hard. The warmth and closeness were comforting. She suddenly longed to cuddle against him, as Peter was doing, and absorb his strength.

Time flew past as they sat on the couch, hands clasped, Gloria's shoulder against his.

“Jack,” she whispered softly, unaware of the intimacy of her tone. “I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to Aunt Ethel. She means a lot to me.”

“You'll just have to do the best you can, Glory. We all have an inner strength we don't even know we possess; that's how we endure times of terrible grief.”

“I'm glad you're with me.” She looked up at him, her eyes flooding with tears.

“I'm glad I am too. Are you hungry? I ate what was left of Peter's sandwich, but I can get another one from the dispenser. And there's coffee too.”

“I don't know if I could eat or not, but I could use the coffee. But don't you think you should call Gary?”

“I thought I'd wait until I had something definite to tell him. I'll lay Peter on the other couch and get some coffee.”

After Jack had left the waiting room, Gloria reached for a magazine and began flipping through the pages, hardly reading a word. She was filled with apprehension, her heart fluttering and her fingers trembling as she turned the pages, her ears attuned to the sound of footsteps. The waiting seemed to be more agonizing without Jack; it was easier when he was there to share it with her. She threw the magazine down onto the table and went to the door. At the end of the long hall a white-coated orderly was pushing a cart. She was surprised at the lack of activity, then remembered the time of day and the fact that this was a small hospital, unlike the busy hospitals in Cincinnati where she had occasionally taken children from the center where she worked.

She was very glad when Jack's big frame filled the doorway. His eyes searched her eyes, asking the question: “Any news?”

She shook her head despairingly. “No one has come at all.”

He looked down at her tired, pale face, her darkcircled eyes dulled with fatigue. He had never longed to hold, or kiss, or comfort a woman so badly. She was so small, and looked so forlorn sitting there. He desperately wanted to see her eyes bright with laughter, her chin tilted proudly, her cheeks dimpling merrily.

Jack felt suspended as he stood looking down at her. He was unable to understand or accept the overpowering protective feeling that swept over him. A corner of his heart that had never been filled was suddenly overflowing. Almost in a daze he held out the foam cup.

Gloria accepted the coffee with a bleak smile of thanks.

“It seems like we've been waiting forever,” she said in a choked, tired voice.

“It hasn't been an hour, Glory. We'll know something soon.”

They sat close together on the couch, and when Jack felt a shiver run through her slight body, he took off his jacket and draped it about her shoulders.

His arm stayed about her to hug her to his side.

CHAPTER SIX

I
T WAS PAST
midnight. Jack wrapped his jacket around the sleeping child and carried him out to the car. Gloria walked beside him. The air was crisp and cool, the moon clear and bright. He placed the child on the backseat and covered him with the blankets. And then he turned to Gloria and put his jacket about her shoulders.

“No. You'll need it.”

“Get in. I'll get the heater going.”

He opened the door and she slid under the wheel to the other side. She watched him in the flashing lights of a passing car; his face was turned toward her as he inserted the key to start the motor. It was incredible that in just a few hours' time her feelings for him had changed so drastically.

“Move over close to me and we'll keep each other warm until the heater gets going.” His voice came softly out of the darkness over the purr of the engine.

“You can have your jacket.” She was suddenly flustered and at a loss for words. Her gaze was drawn to the shadowed outline of his face and his eyes gleaming at her through the darkness.

“C'mon. Move over.” His hand was on her knee. “Closer,” he commanded softly after she had moved a few inches toward him. “You're shivering.” She moved again, and he adjusted his own position until her shoulder was tucked behind his and her hip, leg, and thigh fit snugly along his muscular length. “That's better. You'll be warm soon.” He shifted the gears and put the car into motion. “We'll be home before you know it, and I'll make us a cup of hot chocolate.”

After they had driven a few blocks, the lights of the town were left behind. Gloria looked straight ahead at the road; she thought about her aunt's condition and willed herself to not panic. Jack placed his hand in her lap; without hesitation she pressed her palm against his, and his fingers entwined with hers.

“I like holding your hand, Glory.”

“Thank you for being with me tonight.” It was pleasant, comforting, to be with him. She was weary in mind and weary in body, and hovered against his masculine strength in a dreamlike state. She felt…sheltered, cherished. His hand was like a lifeline in a storm.

He briefly released her hand to adjust the heater, then blindly sought it again. She clasped it and laced her fingers through his.

“You do realize that Ethel may never be completely well again even if she does come through this crisis?”

“Yes, I know that,” she answered in a small voice. “Oh, Jack, she'll never speak again.”

“The doctor said there was the
possibility
of that. It's not a certainty. She had a massive stroke, and they'll not be sure of the damage for several days. She knew that you were there and that she wasn't alone. I'm sure that meant a lot to her.”

“I'll try to keep the motel going until she can decide what she wants to do with it,” she whispered huskily.

Jack was quiet. The car sped along the highway with only the sound of the motor filling the moonlit silence of the night. He needed time to sort out his emotions, untangle his confused thoughts, and decide what he
really
wanted out of life. The feelings he had for this woman scared the hell out of him. It was a shock to him to realize that he'd never felt so complete as he had sitting beside her at the hospital, his arm holding her close, sharing her anxiety as they waited for the doctor. All he'd wanted to do, then, was to be with her, comfort her, take care of her.
Now
he wanted to kiss her with her arms about his neck. He wanted to hold her hips in his hands and feel her breasts against his naked chest, have her to
want
him.
Dammit, Evans, don't think about it! She doesn't feel that way about you.

“You can't run the motel by yourself,” he said, struggling to get his mind back to reality.

“I'll have to.”

“I'm not sure it's a good idea for you and Peter to be out there alone. Gary's gone five nights a week, and there's all kinds of riffraff traveling the highway.”

“I know. I've met some of them. Remember?” She glanced at him and saw the frown creasing his brow. “But if Aunt Ethel could handle them, I can.”

“Ethel is not young and beautiful.”

“Should I thank you for a compliment?”

He searched her features for a trace of sarcasm and found none. Rather, she was trying to suppress a grin. He glanced at the road ahead, then back to her soft mouth and glowing eyes. A lovely, leaping flame of desire flickered through him.

“No,” he said slowly while his mind ached to say something else. “I wouldn't want you to slip out of character.”

That brought an unexpected trill of laughter. “Have I been that bad?”

“You've been a regular shrew,” he murmured teasingly.

“Well, what about you? You irritated me something awful!” Her smile jarred his senses.

“I did bug you a bit, didn't I?” He chuckled softly.

“Yes, you did.”

He glanced down at her. Her image stayed with him when he turned back to watch the road. She looked so damned fragile. Her face was pale in the moonlight, her lips quivering, her eyes dancing with more enjoyment than he'd ever seen, yet still full of vulnerability. When she laughed, the musical sound struck a chord deep in a part of him that he had thought was closed off forever.

“Jack…” Her voice was low, her face close to his shoulder. He knew she was looking at his profile. “I really do appreciate having you with me tonight. And…I'm sorry for the nasty things I said about…your appearance and your lifestyle. I guess I'm what you'd consider…super-straight.”

“It's all right, Glory. A lot of people agree with you. You don't like my hair and my beard. You think I'm a tough character who goes around bullying people, and that I'm shiftless, too lazy to keep a regular job. You don't approve of me or my lifestyle. Well, it's your prerogative.” There was no censure in his tone. It was deep and serious.

“Oh, my! Did I say all that? I had no right—it was presumptuous of me.”

He glanced down at her. “You didn't have to
say
it. I could tell by the way you looked at me. But don't worry about it. You were honest enough to let your feelings show.”

“I've never met anyone like you. Most of the people I've known live in a more conventional way—they're employed, or do something…useful.”

“We're not all made in the same mold, Gloria. I don't feel the need to achieve a status in the community in order to be comfortable with myself. I depend on no one, and no one depends on me. It's as simple as that.”

She waited, hoping he would keep talking and tell her something about himself, but he remained silent. It occurred to her that not once since they had taken Aunt Ethel to the hospital had she thought about his appearance. He still had the red bandana about his forehead, the long, unruly hair, and the bushy beard; but she hadn't noticed anyone at the hospital giving him so much as a second look. Why had she judged him so harshly because he didn't conform? Why was appearance so important to her? Had more of Marvin's values rubbed off on her than she realized?

Gloria loosened her hand from his, pulled his jacket more tightly about her shoulders, and moved a little away from him. The tangled lines of her thoughts emerged at one junction: She was attracted to him! The revelation both fascinated and confused her.

“I've never met anyone like you,” she said again, breaking the silence.

To her relief he chuckled. “Oh, yes, you have. Have you forgotten the tough guys from the Big Windy?”

“You're not like them!”

“How do you know?”

“I just know, that's all. Now, hush up about them. Every time I think about that terrible encounter I get a nervous stomach.”

“Speaking of stomachs, I hope Gary left some food,” he said as he turned the car into the motel drive. “I'm starved. How about you?”

“I guess I am hungry, now that you mention it. Gary must have forgotten to turn the vacancy sign on, which means we only have one guest tonight other than him and Dwight.”

Jack drove past the lone car in front of unit three and pulled around to the back of the motel, where two large semitrailer trucks were parked.

“When I talked to Gary, he said he'd leave a key under the brick beside the back step, in case you didn't have one.”

“I don't, unless there's one in Aunt Ethel's purse.”

“Don't bother looking for it. Stay put. I'll turn on a light and come back for you and Peter.” He was out of the car before Gloria thought about giving him his jacket.

The lights in the kitchen sprang on. Jack came back to lift Peter from the backseat, blankets and all, and carry him to the house. Gloria held open the door and they went inside, much like a family returning home, she thought briefly. She led the way, turning on lights as she went through the office to her room. Jack laid Peter down, removed his shoes, took off his jacket, and covered him. He looked up at Gloria standing on the other side of the bed watching him.

“No argument about undressing him tonight?” he said, lifting his brows.

Her gaze met his, and she blinked.
Oh, my God, I've lost my mind. I'm really beginning to like him…very much.

“Why wake him just so he can go back to sleep again?” She murmured lightly, tossing back the same words he'd used that night a week ago.

His eyes were laughing as they stared into hers. It should be a sin for a man to have such large, beautiful, expressive eyes, she thought, and turned her back to dim the light beside her son's bed. A flood of pleasure washed over her, sending excitement coursing through her veins. She was frightened by the odd fluttering in her stomach. It's hunger pangs, she told herself, just hunger pangs.

“How old is he?”

“He'll be four in a couple of weeks.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw that his fingertips were combing the dark hair back from Peter's forehead. A wave of tenderness for this big, gentle man flooded her heart.

“He's a fine boy,” he said softly.

Gloria went to the foot of the bed and turned to look at him. “He's had to endure more than his share of difficulties for one so young.”

“He seems well adjusted and…happy.”

“He is now. It's not always been that way.”

“And you?” He was looking at her with those great, knowing eyes while his fingertips continued to caress the child's head.

“Me too. I like it here.” She said it almost defensively.

“You've had a few bad breaks, too, huh?”

“A few. But I like to think they've made me a stronger person.” Her voice was shaky, and she felt a tingly sensation travel up her spine.

He nodded solemnly. “Peter's lucky he's got you.”

Gloria stood glued to the floor, incapable of replying. There was a tightness across her chest, a fullness in her throat, and she couldn't utter a word. She stood there until he came toward her, then she moved ahead of him to the door.