Like a flash of lightning, he thought of her daughter. She’d said earlier that she would put her to bed before coming to take down the flowers. She was probably home alone.
A siren, faint and in the distance, met his ears. He needed to do something about Dixie before he climbed in the bus and took her to the hospital. What had she said her friend’s name was? The one picking Dixie up from school?
He couldn’t remember, and he frowned at himself. “Does anyone know who I can call about Gretchen’s daughter? I think she’s home alone.”
“I can go over there,” Mabel said.
Drew sized up the elderly woman. “Would Dixie know who you are?”
“Janey Germaine,” another woman said. “She and Gretchen are best friends.”
Drew nodded his thanks and stayed at Gretchen’s side. “Gretchen, I’m going to call Janey and have her go get Dixie, okay? Then we’re going to take you to the hospital.” He grinned down at her, something inside him softening at the peaceful expression on her face. Somehow he was able to look past all the blood and the swelling in her nose, and see a gentle soul in Gretchen Samuels he’d never looked for before.
Startled at the softness of his feelings, he leaned back and pulled out his phone. After Trudy answered, he said, “I need the number for Janey Germaine.”
“I’ll connect you. Hold, please.”
Drew sat in the emergency waiting room, his fingers steepled together and his eyes on the gray plastic door in front of him. He’d employed nearly every ounce of patience he possessed, and still the nurse hadn’t come to tell him anything about Gretchen.
Legally, she couldn’t give a diagnosis to him. But seeing as how she had no family over the age of ten, Drew simply couldn’t leave her in the hospital by herself. Unconscious. Alone. Overnight.
No, he wouldn’t do it. Though his eyelids grew heavy, and he’d thought about that loaded potato skin at Duality more than once, he maintained his seat and waited.
He’d probably only been there for a half an hour. Simply checking her vitals, assessing that nose, and ordering the x-rays would take that long. Which meant he should be hearing something very soon.
Someone sat down next to him, smelling like Old Spice and butter. “Janey got Dixie.”
Drew startled at the sound of Adam’s voice. “Oh, that’s great.” His voice raked through his dry throat, but he didn’t dare leave to go get a drink.
“How is she?” Adam asked.
“Still waiting to hear.”
Adam settled his head against the wall and closed his eyes, apparently ready to wait it out with Drew. His brother’s presence comforted him, and Drew finally leaned back in the chair and let his hands fall into his lap.
Five minutes later, a nurse walked through the door. Drew stood, the amount of hope floating through his chest ridiculous. “How is she?” The rest of the waiting room was empty, so Drew knew Roxanne had come about Gretchen.
“She’s awake, which is a great sign.” Roxanne gestured for him to come back. “You two can come back if you’d like. She’s frantic about her daughter, and I told her someone who knew what was going on was here. She wants to see you.”
Drew looked at Adam, who waved for him to go. “I don’t need to come back.”
But Drew did. The craving to reassure Gretchen ate at him, almost an ache in the back of his throat. He couldn’t quite classify it, didn’t understand this pulsating desire to be the one to take care of her. He followed Roxanne through the door and down the halls wide enough to pass two patient beds side-by-side.
“She’s in there.” She gestured him into a room. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”
Drew said, “Thanks, Roxy,” and walked through the doorway.
“Drew,” Gretchen rasped as soon as she saw him. “Where’s Dixie?”
He stepped tentatively into the room, his heart fluttering up near his voice box when he saw the neck brace, the temporary wrist cast, and the gauze across her nose and cheeks.
“I called Janey, and she went to get her.” He edged closer to the bed, a strange inkling to reach for and hold Gretchen’s hand. His fingers twitched in that direction, but he pulled them into a tight fist. “Do you remember what happened?”
Always the EMT, he watched her struggle to find the memories, sort through them, and put them in order. “It’s okay if you can’t,” he said quickly. “You were unconscious for quite a while.”
“I was at the Magleby Mansion.”
“That’s right,” he said, hoping to encourage her, keep her talking.
“I needed to get the ladder to take down the rose wreath. It was really heavy. I dropped it on my foot.” She shuddered as if she could still feel the pain. But her speech slurred along the edges, and he knew she’d been given some heavy painkillers.
“That’s all I remember.” Her eyes drifted closed, but she jerked them open again.
“A ladder fell on top of you,” he said gently. “It looks like they’ve got your wrist in a splint, and they’ve taken care of your broken nose. They’re concerned about your neck, thus the brace.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and Drew shut his mouth. “You feeling okay?” He reached out and touched her arm, thinking maybe she just needed human contact. She turned her arm, and his fingers slid down to hers.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said in his best paramedic voice. Soothing and soft, but firm and authoritative. “Do you need me to call a nurse to get you something?”
She gave one shake of her head, closed her eyes so that a single tear tracked down her face, and squeezed his fingers.
And Drew thought maybe he was the one who needed the human contact. He certainly liked holding Gretchen’s hand far more than he liked Chief nosing his fingers.
Chapter Six
Gretchen heard voices beyond her veil of consciousness, and she struggled toward them. The anchor she’d been holding onto had disappeared at some point, and she felt like she was drowning.
Dixie. Where was Dixie?
She broke the surface of unconsciousness and opened her eyes. The room was dark save for a rectangle of light coming in from the hallway. Two figures stood there, facing one another. One spoke words she couldn’t hear and glanced her way.
The other wore a long-sleeved doctor’s coat and looked at her too. She approached, her face becoming more and more familiar with each passing second. Problem was, so was the throbbing pain coming from her foot.
“Gretchen,” the doctor said in that kind, strong voice they must teach medical personnel in school. She sounded like Drew had, like whatever she said would come true simply because she said it. “I’m Susan Harris. Do you remember meeting last night?”
Gretchen recognized the voice and the face, but the name had eluded her. She nodded anyway.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Harris asked.
Gretchen moaned, identifying pain now in multiple places from her nose to her toes. The doctor reached for the nurse’s button and pushed it. “I’ll get you something for the pain. Mister Herrin here has been sitting with you. Is that all right with you?”
The memory of his fingers in hers slammed into Gretchen’s skull and rattled around. “It’s fine,” she said, meeting his gaze. He didn’t seem embarrassed that he’d stayed, but he did look worse for the wear. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
“No,” he said. “It’s my day off.”
Dr. Harris kept her eyes on him as she continued with, “He’s not family, so I wasn’t sure if you’d given him permission to stay or not.”
“He can stay,” Gretchen said, unsure as to why she didn’t want him to leave. He possessed a charming handsomeness, sure. Maybe she simply didn’t want to be alone. No matter what, if she had to pick someone to take care of Dixie, it would be Janey, and out of her options for who could stay with her, Drew was…perfect.
“I don’t suppose I’ll be out of here in time to open my shop in the morning?” She looked at Dr. Harris hopefully even as another bl
ast of pain shot through her right leg and into her hip. She fought unsuccessfully not to wince.
“I’d like to keep you,” Dr. Harris said. “Get a better look at that foot. Make sure the nose really isn’t broken.”
“My nose isn’t broken?” Gretchen tasted blood on the back of her tongue, and Drew had said her nose was broken.
“Just bruised.” Dr. Harris flipped a page on a clipboard when the nurse entered. “She needs another thousand of ibuprofen. We think you threw your hands up to protect your face from the ladder.” She glanced at Gretchen and passed the notes to the nurse, who exited. “You’ve got bruising on the backs of your forearms, and that would explain how your wrist got sprained.”
Gretchen sifted through the memories floating around in her mind. She remembered going to the Mansion. Collecting all the vases and leftover centerpieces. The defeat she’d felt at still seeing that rose wreath twined through the arch.
She’d gone out into the gardens to get the ladder, but it had been too heavy for her to lift. She’d dropped it on her foot, which screamed with pain as it reminded her to ask for help next time.
“I fell down,” she said, the memory suddenly emerging. “When I dropped the ladder on my foot, I fell backward.”
“Yes, your right foot is broken,” Dr. Harris confirmed. “Luckily, that’s the only broken bone you suffered.”
“The ladder did fall on me,” Gretchen said, a dose of adrenaline spiking her heart rate and causing both Drew and the doctor to whip their attention to the monitor when it emitted a loud beep.
“You’re okay,” Drew murmured.
Dr. Harris said, “I want to do more x-rays on the foot and make sure it doesn’t need surgery. We’ll put a proper cast on it, and you should be able to go home by Friday.”
Two days. What was she going to do in the hospital for two days? Who would take care of Dixie?
“My daughter…” she started but didn’t know how to finish.
Dr. Harris exchanged a meaningful glance with Drew and backed up a step. “I’ll leave Mister Herrin to iron out those details with you.” She disappeared through the rectangle of light, leaving Gretchen alone with Drew.
He pulled up the only chair in the room and sat beside her. His fingers touched hers, and they were warm and wonderful. She sighed as the nurse re-entered the room and administered the next dose of medication.
“You should be feeling better in about a half an hour,” she said. “Please call if you aren’t.” She looked at Drew pointedly. “She needs to rest.”
“I promise I won’t keep her up.”
The nurse left, pulling the door closed behind her, drenching them in hospital darkness, which was more gray than black.
“Dixie is with Janey,” he started, his hushed voice almost a whisper. “She’s going to take the kids to school, but then she has to go into the park. I told her I’d pick Jess and Dixie up from school and bring them here.” He ducked his head so she couldn’t see his face.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I knew you’d say that.” He shook his head as a smile slipped across his mouth.
Gretchen hated this feeling of weakness, of pure helplessness. She’d felt like this while lying in the car, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, ten years ago. She’d felt like this in the years leading up to her first pregnancy, almost desperate to have a baby. And in the years following Dixie’s arrival, when she and Aaron had had to face the fact that they’d been very, very lucky to get a child at all. And she’d never felt as helpless and desperate as she had when Aaron had passed away.
She’d vowed then to never be so reliant on another person. The pact with herself had held true for three years. She’d made things happen for her and Dixie, and she’d gotten back up on her feet when life seemed to want to kick her down.
“Who’s going to do it if I don’t?” he asked.
Gretchen pulled herself from her past and looked right into Drew’s gorgeous brown eyes. Deep and rich like the Belgian chocolate she used to splurge on in Seattle, she almost lost herself inside them.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Right. And that something is that I’ll pick them up and bring them here. Dixie will want to see you, and you’re not leaving until Friday.” Determination blazed in those eyes now, and Gretchen flailed for a different solution.
“Then, I thought I’d take them out to my family’s lavender farm. I was going to go out there anyway, and it’s a great place for a couple of kids.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve already talked to my mother, and she’s baking chocolate chips cookies for the kids.” He chuckled. “My step-father is going to make sure the goats get a bath so the kids can touch them. We have chickens they can feed, and horses to ride, and of course, everyone loves hide and seek in a lavender field.”
Gretchen couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. She and Drew had loved playing hide and seek in the lavender fields. She’d loved roaming her granddad’s land, and her own yearning to wander through rows of lavender hit her powerfully behind her lungs. “I really couldn’t…”
“You really can,” he said. “It’s the same farm where we used to roam, out near the tip of the harbor. They’ll love it.”
Her eyes widened and her breath lodged in her throat. Her brain couldn’t seem to grasp any one thought, so she blurted, “I thought your last name was Herrin.”
Lines appeared between his eyes as he frowned. “It is. Why?”
“I know the Loveland Farm really well. I rent my flower garden from them. I thought your family must have moved.” Confusion raced through her. “Why is it called the Loveland Lavender Farm now?”
He sucked in a breath. “That’s right. You rent the flower garden.” One, two, three heartbeats of silence followed his declaration, and then he filled the small hospital room with his laughter. It was one of the purest, most wonderful sounds Gretchen had ever heard, and she couldn’t help adding a giggle to the chorus.
But that made her ribs hurt, so she cut off quickly.
“Yes,” she said when he quieted. “I rent that land from Joel Loveland. Not a Herrin.”
“He’s my step-father,” Drew said, his demeanor turning subdued in a single breath. “Different last name, because my father died nine years ago, and my mother got remarried.”
She tightened her grip on his fingers. “I’m so sorry.” He obviously still ached for his father, which Gretchen understood completely. A full minute passed while she lost herself inside memories she’d rather escape from. She wondered if he was doing the same.
“Did you know he bought my granddad’s farm?” she asked. She wasn’t sure why she’d asked. Of course Drew knew.
Sure enough, he nodded. “A few years ago, right?”
“Five years ago. My grandma died a while back. Granddad traded in lavender for coconuts,” she said. “He lives in Hawaii now.” A smile slipped across her face as she thought of her wrinkled granddad wearing a tropical shirt and swimming trunks while he harvested coconuts.
She exhaled, wishing she’d been more attentive to him before he’d left the mainland. “My husband died a couple of years later, and I came here anyway, though I had no family left and nowhere to live.”
He squeezed her hand, and she took comfort from the strength and power in his. “Where are your parents?”
“California.” She pressed against the memories of her family in San Francisco. “My brother lives there too.”
“And you couldn’t go there?”
“No,” she said firmly. “I couldn’t go there.” Though they’d spent time together as she came to Hawthorn Harbor as a teen, she’d never told anyone about her family, or about why she came to visit her granddad alone.
Drew looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but thankfully he fell silent. The medication was starting to work, because a keen sense of drowsiness swept through her and she let her eyes drift closed.
“I’ll be right here,” he whispered, starting to pull
his hand away as he inched toward standing.
She gripped it, unwilling to let him go quite yet. “Hold my hand until I fall asleep,” she said. “Please?”
“Of course.” He sank back into the recliner and Gretchen closed her eyes, wondering why it was so bad to ask for help when it came from someone as gentle and gracious as Drew Herrin.
Gretchen woke with darkness around her and a cold, empty hand. She wiggled it under the blanket while she located the door. Soft, even breathing met her ears and instantly transported her back three years, when she used to sleep with another living, breathing human being next to her each night.
Oh, how she missed that. Dixie slept in the big king bed sometimes, but it wasn’t the same as that deep draw in, and that slow exhale out.
She listened to the comforting sound, trying to decipher how she felt about the person making it. Drew Herrin.
Not her husband.
Not even close.
Where Drew was dark and chiseled and strong, Aaron had been light, and rounded and barely able to help with a jar of pickles. He spent most of his time behind a screen or on the piano bench, and it was clear that Drew used a different kind of bench to occupy his time.
After several minutes of thought, she decided it was okay to like him. Aaron had been gone for a while now, and those first inklings of attraction had certainly popped through Gretchen when Drew had held her hand.
She drifted back to sleep with a smile on her face and hope in her heart that the fireworks hadn’t been one-sided.
The next time she woke, sunlight streamed into the room and two nurses stood at the end of the bed. They asked her questions about her pain, where it hurt most, what it was on a scale of one to ten. Drew was gone, and breakfast got wheeled in, followed immediately by Janey, her son Jess, and Dixie.
“Mama!” Dixie darted forward, the relief and happiness on her face evident.
“Careful, remember?” Janey cautioned, but Gretchen opened her arms wide to hug her daughter. She took a deep breath of Dixie’s hair and got the clean scent of soap and strawberries.