Second Chance Hero. Winnie Griggs
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Because she felt that the two of them were linked now in some intangible but very real way.
Partly because he’d saved her daughter’s life.
And partly because she felt that little tug of attraction whenever she was around him.
* * *
Nate swallowed down the unpleasant-tasting draught Dr. Pratt handed him without a word, but refused the man’s offer to help him change clothes. After the doctor made his exit, Nate frowned at the oversize nightshirt. This day had certainly taken an unexpected turn. It wasn’t a very auspicious milestone on the road to his fresh start.
Then again, it hadn’t been all bad. Getting to know Mrs. Leggett better certainly hadn’t been an unpleasant experience. Of course, she seemed to think of him as either a patient or hero, neither of which sat well with him.
Best not to think on how he wanted her to think of him, though. With a huff of frustration, he snatched up the nightshirt.
Nate had barely finished changing when he heard a light tap on the door. Had the doctor forgotten something? But when he bade the person enter, it turned out to be Dr. Pratt’s niece, rather than the doctor himself.
Verity entered the room and gave him an approving smile. Then she moved purposefully across the room. “Now let me get you settled into the clinic’s guest room.”
“Guest room, is it? I feel as if I was coerced rather than invited to stay there.” He watched her, admiring her efficient movements.
“Oh, come now, it’s not such a hardship to stay with us here, is it?”
How did he answer that? “I know you’re doing what you think best.” He offered her a half grin. “And guest room does sound friendlier than infirmary.”
His answer seemed to satisfy her, but she dropped the subject. Instead she waved a hand toward a door across from the one through which she’d entered. “Our clinic guest room has comfortable beds for long-term patients. Fortunately, it’s not in use right now so you’ll have it all to yourself.” She pulled a wheeled chair out from a corner of the room and pushed it over to him.
Ah, well, he supposed a conveyance that allowed him to sit up was preferable to that stretcher again.
She stood beside the examination table, obviously prepared to assist him.
“Where’s your uncle?”
“He was called out to tend to another patient. Don’t worry, I can get you situated.” She moved closer to the examination table. “Just place a hand on my shoulder for support.”
He didn’t much relish the idea of treating her like a support post, but it didn’t look as if he had much choice. “Thank you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, finding it both firm and soft at the same time. And then he caught the faint scent of honeysuckle again—it was all he could do not to inhale deeply.
Perhaps accepting her help wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
He carefully slipped from the table, using her shoulder for balance more than support, then slid into the chair.
As soon as she saw that he was settled in, she moved behind the chair and set it in motion. “Don’t worry, we’ll see that you’re made as comfortable as possible.”
“I don’t doubt that, but my shop—”
“Taken care of. I already asked Sheriff Gleason to have someone keep an eye on it so no one will be bothering it. If you’ll let me know where you keep your key, I can go by a little later and lock it up for you.”
The woman was nothing if not efficient. “But that doesn’t take care of my dog.”
“Oh, my.” He heard the dismay in her voice. “I hadn’t thought of that.” Then, as they crossed into the other room, “Of course we must see to your dog.” There was a short pause where he could almost feel the wheels turning in her mind. “I suppose I’ll just have to bring him here until you’re well enough to go home.”
From the way she said that, he could tell she wasn’t particularly happy about it. Did she blame Beans for the accident? “Perhaps I should just go home after all.”
“Nonsense. Joy has been after me for ages to get her a pet. You wouldn’t want to deny her this taste of what it would be like, would you?”
Before he could respond, she moved on. “I don’t imagine you could do much work for the next day or two, anyway. And for that I’m truly sorry. It’s a poor reward for your valiant rescue.”
He wished she’d quit bringing up terms like rescue and hero. She was right about his condition, though. He certainly didn’t want to put out shoddy work by doing things one-handed. Nevertheless, it was frustrating to have to shut down his shop right now.
But he was suddenly feeling lethargic. Was it a delayed effect of his injuries? “Perhaps, just for today then. As to your question about the key, I keep it next to the till during the day.”
Mrs. Leggett parked the chair next to one of two comfortable-looking beds. She turned down the coverlet, then straightened and faced him again. “Now let me help you into bed.”
He nodded. While he was certain he could accomplish the task on his own, he found himself not quite so reluctant to accept her help this time.
She placed a hand around his waist as he stood, then helped him ease over to the bed. Once he’d swung his legs into the bed, she fussily arranged the light coverlet over him.
“There now.” She stepped back. “That draught Uncle Grover gave you should help ease your pain and also help you to sleep, which is the best thing for you right now. We’ll talk again when you wake up.”
A sleeping draught? No wonder his lids were feeling heavy.
She pointed to a cord that hung in easy reach of the bed. “If you need anything, pull that cord. It’ll ring a bell in the house and one of us will be right in to see what you need.”
He tried to watch as she bustled about the room, but his eyelids were getting heavier. She pulled the curtains closed, cocooning the room in shadow. He lost sight of her for a moment, then suddenly she was there bending over him. “One last question. I’m afraid your trousers and shirt are in a sorry state. Would you like me to get you a fresh change of clothes when I fetch your dog?”
Were they really talking about his clothing now? “I suppose. They’re in the wardrobe in my bedchamber.”
She smoothed the covers over his chest one more time, and the gesture brought him back to a time when his family had been intact and his world had been pleasant and uncomplicated.
“Sleep now,” she said softly. “We’ll talk again when you wake up.”
So he did.
* * *
Verity softly closed the door behind her. Mr. Cooper was a true hero in her book—literally a godsend to her and Joy. She was only sorry he’d paid such a steep price for his quick action and bravery. If only there was something she could do to make certain his business didn’t suffer for his absence.
She headed for the kitchen, where she found Joy and Aunt Betty preparing lunch. Verity still felt the need to reassure herself that her baby was okay.
Aunt Betty looked up. “How’s our patient doing?”
“He’s settled in the infirmary.” Verity moved to stand behind Joy’s chair and placed a hand lightly on the girl’s shoulder. “Hopefully he’ll sleep for a few hours.”
Her aunt nodded. “Poor man. Sleep’s the best thing for him.”
“Before he fell asleep, he reminded me that he has a dog.” Joy’s head went up at the mention of the animal. “I assured him I’d see to it while he’s laid up.” She gave her aunt a diffident look. “I can check on it