A Hopeful Heart and A Home, a Heart, A Husband: A Hopeful Heart. Lois Richer
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“You didn’t,” she muttered, trying to find that elusive control she had ordered herself to exert. “I’m fine, actually. It’s just that somebody foolishly brought a cat into my office. I’m allergic to cats,” she enlightened him, curious about the red stain that was flooding his face.
“It’s too bad, too, because Mrs. Rivers is talking a mile a minute. That’s something she’s never done the whole time I’ve been here. Now I’ll have to have the dratted thing taken away.” She grimaced. “That’ll set her back but good!”
Melanie was less than thrilled with having to handle such a touchy situation. The extra time and patience it would take to convince Mrs. Rivers of the unsuitability of the cat in a nursing home would probably not erase the loss she would feel when the animal went.
“Honestly! If people would only ask before they do something silly like this.”
Mitch turned away to stare at the nearby flower bed. He seemed utterly absorbed in it, and Melanie wondered if he had heard a thing she had said. She was surprised when his low voice rumbled quietly.
“Maybe she could keep it in her room. You wouldn’t have to go in there, and she would still have her companion.”
Melanie stared at him.
“A cat in a nursing home?” she scoffed. “We’re trying to keep a sterile atmosphere so our residents don’t catch every bug that’s going around. Do you know the diseases a cat carries?”
It was clearly not an option, Melanie decided, but Mitch pressed on, trying to convince her that he had a feasible solution to the problem.
“Maybe it’s too sterile. Maybe those people would enjoy having someone else to be concerned about and care for.” His dark eyes dared her to deny it.
It was a convincing argument, and Melanie knew it. The trade journals were full of articles about experiments involving pets in nursing homes that had been tried with excellent results. In fact, Sunset Home already had a parrot, exotic fish and a gerbil. But a cat?
“If it makes such a difference in her life, maybe it would help some of the other residents too,” he coaxed, anxiously watching her face.
“I suppose it might work,” Melanie conceded, considering options. “The litter box will have to stay in her room, though.” She sneezed once more, shaking her head.
“There must still be some of those fibers on my clothes.” She wiped her red nose and then leaned over to pluck one from Mitch’s dark jacket. “Look, I’ve even spread them to you,” she muttered in disgust.
Melanie sneezed one last time. “I only hope it doesn’t cross my path again,” she added grimly. Her wide green eyes perused Mitch’s formally suited figure with a frown.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” she demanded, suddenly suspicious. Mitch held out a long white envelope.
“This came just after you left. By messenger. It’s from Papa John,” he told her, smiling sympathetically as she blew her nose in the fresh handkerchief he handed her.
“Well, what do they want now?” Melanie asked, tired of all the delays.
Her fingers tore open the envelope and she pulled out the single sheet of paper. Her face lit up with pleasure, eyes sparkling and pink lips grinning.
“Finally. They’re going to award the prizes within two weeks,” she told Mitch. “We’ll be given the final decision within two weeks.” She couldn’t believe it.
Melanie jumped to her feet and, grabbing Mitch’s hands, whirled around him like a top, spinning crazily out of control.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars! It’s more than I ever dreamed of.” Melanie hugged him happily before dancing off.
“Melanie.” Mitch’s low voice broke into her fanciful musings. Wide and green, her hazel eyes turned to study him curiously. “Things might not turn out the way you hoped.”
Mitch kept his voice lightly cautious, hoping she would see the possibilities the company had left open in their letter. In fact, his legal brain had been perturbed at the gaps in the information Papa John had conveyed, but he didn’t want to be the one to burst her bubble of joy.
Her arched brows quirked upward as her eyes opened wide to stare at him. He could see the awareness in her eyes and knew she was feeling the current snapping between them. Her pupils were dilated, but still she focused on him, allowing him to see into her soul.
“But it says right here,” she said, reading the letter once more. Her eyes flew upward. “Don’t you believe them?”
“Yes, of course.” He felt constrained to agree. “It’s just that I’ll feel better when it’s all settled.” A lot better, he thought.
“So will I,” Melanie burst out excitedly. Her eyes were glowing.
Mitch felt his heart drop to his highly polished loafers. She was too trusting, he decided. Melanie counted on that prize money to help her friends. She couldn’t imagine not receiving it after all this time.
He, on the other hand, was well aware of just how swiftly her fortune could be rescinded in light of the errors that appeared on her application. Mitch made his decision. He wasn’t going to be the one to erase the joy from her glowing face. His heart began its thudding beat as he stared into her rapt gaze. She was so beautiful. And so far beyond his reach.
The paging system disturbed their self-analysis, jolting each back to reality.
“I have got to get moving,” Melanie told him. Her voice seemed breathy. She slipped around him to edge inside the building but his long legs caught up to her immediately.
“I’ll walk you there,” he offered, still dumbfounded by the depth of emotion he had seen in those deep eyes.
In her office, Melanie turned to call Bridget, allowing Mitch just enough time to scoop up the card he had included with the cat. It would not do to let her know the truth, he decided. Stuffing it into his pocket, he turned and came face to face with a grinning Bridget. She flicked her bright red nail at his lapel.
“Not such a good idea,” she teased, laughing. “Next time try flowers.”
Mitch tried to look nonchalant when Melanie called his name.
“Yes?” he answered, his blue eyes thoughtfully studying her.
“Aren’t you going to work?” Melanie’s impatient voice was like a douse of cold water. Glancing at his watch, Mitch strode to the door.
“Lord, yes. I’ve got to be in court in ten minutes. Gramps will probably cite me for contempt,” he admitted. “See you later.” With a wave he was gone, leaving Melanie to stare curiously after him.
She wasn’t sure what it was all about, or even why he’d come. But, somehow, she felt as if Mitch had seen into her soul. Which probably was not good, given that Melanie seemed constantly attracted to his lean good looks.
Sighing, she turned to smile at a hovering Bridget, who stood inside the door with a box of tissues and a small vacuum. Now, for the cat.
Eight hours later, Melanie wished the cat was the sum total of her problems. She forced herself to sit and listen to the angry man deriding her and her staff for their inconsiderate lack of attention to the plight of families who came to visit the residents.
“Yes, Mr. Johnson, I realize that everyone works nowadays, but our clients need to eat their meals at a regularly scheduled time each day. We encourage them to come to the dining rooms on time, to eat with the others and to limit their snack foods.” She waited for the next onslaught.
The blustering man’s whining voice grew louder.
“But surely when we have made the effort to get here to see our mother, you could adjust the dinner hour somewhat?” His soulful brown eyes drooped with sadness.
Melanie’s