Dr. Destiny. KRISTI GOLD
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She rummaged through her purse and withdrew a business card, then scrawled something on the back. After she was done, she handed it to him. ‘‘Here’s my address. It’s easy to find. Just look for the smallest house.’’
He studied the card. ‘‘You live in a house?’’
‘‘Yes, why?’’
He met her gaze once again. ‘‘I don’t know. I figured you for the swinging-single-apartment type.’’
‘‘Well, you figured wrong.’’
‘‘Do you have a roommate?’’
‘‘No, it’s just little old me.’’
That both relieved and worried Brendan. An empty house and Cassie could be a lethal combination, especially with the way he was feeling. Not if he kept his wits about him, exactly what he intended to do. What he had to do.
‘‘I’ll see you in a while then,’’ she said as she turned away. After taking a few steps, she faced him again. ‘‘Oh, I do have a cat, in case you’re allergic.’’
‘‘No, I’m not allergic. But I hate cats.’’
She grinned. ‘‘Don’t worry. He hates everyone but me.’’
Three
The cat loved Brendan. No great surprise to Cassie. Everyone loved Brendan, so why wouldn’t a crazed cat?
Still, she’d never seen Mister snuggle up to a man. Of course, the men in Cassie’s life had been very few and very far between, at least since high school. Other than a rare visit from her dad, no man had sat on her couch since that day the kitty had shown up on her doorstep, begging for handouts. And Mister definitely did not care for her father. Maybe the animal sensed that Cassie’s dad didn’t really care for Cassie. Smart cat.
Cassie stood at the kitchen entrance to the living room and watched Mister rub against Brendan as if he were a treat. She couldn’t blame him. She actually wanted to join him. Rubbing against Brendan would be the highlight of her evening. That certainly would make her purr. But she wouldn’t. She’d simply fantasize about it later, after he left. Safer that way.
Brendan just sat there, eyeing the overly friendly feline with mild disgust. At least the doctor looked more relaxed now than he had at dinner. He’d said very little during the meal of pasta and salad, something Cassie had whipped up with a jar of sauce and the greens she’d had on hand. Not exactly her idea of a romantic meal. Of course, her offer had nothing to do with romance. She was only trying to provide Brendan with some company and comfort.
On that thought, Cassie tossed the dishtowel onto the cabinet and strolled into the small living room. She took a seat on the couch opposite Brendan and Mister.
Brendan awkwardly patted the enamored cat’s head with his bandaged hand. ‘‘Does this walking hairball have a name?’’
‘‘Mister Ree.’’
‘‘Mystery?’’
‘‘No. Two words, Mister R-e-e.’’
‘‘Weird name.’’
‘‘Not really. His background is a mystery. I have no idea where he came from. He just showed up one day two years ago, and he’s been here ever since.’’
‘‘Do you always pick up strays?’’
‘‘Only cats. And every now and then a man who’s locked his keys in the car.’’
Brendan frowned. ‘‘So you bring men home often?’’
‘‘I’m kidding. If you recall, we’ve already had this conversation about my love life, or lack thereof.’’
Cassie leaned over and pulled Mister out of Brendan’s lap with some difficulty when the cat decided to hang on. The doctor looked more than relieved.
‘‘Time to go outside.’’ She stood and opened the door, and Mister scurried out.
‘‘He’s sure in a hurry,’’ Brendan said. ‘‘Must be some hot kitty waiting for him.’’
Cassie reclaimed her place on the end of the sofa. ‘‘He’s neutered.’’
Brendan grinned. ‘‘Do you do that to all your guests?’’
She leaned her head back and laughed, then brought her gaze back to his sparkling green eyes. ‘‘You betcha. Helps to keep the population of unwanted offspring down.’’
Brendan’s features switched from relaxed to serious as easily as one would click off a lamp. The glow of amusement had left his eyes, as well. ‘‘Probably not a bad idea at that.’’
Scooting around on the sofa to face him, Cassie crossed her legs in front of her, determined to wipe the frustration away from his face. ‘‘I spoke to the Neelys this afternoon. They’re so grateful to you for bringing their baby back around.’’
His mouth formed an unforgiving line to match his grave expression. ‘‘Back around to what? A child that might be blind? Chronic pulmonary problems because of a respirator?’’
She hated the sadness in his tone, in his eyes. ‘‘Would you like to know what Mrs. Neely said to me today?’’ When he didn’t respond, she continued. ‘‘She told me that she’s had three previous miscarriages. This pregnancy was the closest she’s carried to full term. She also told me that no matter what happens to her little girl, as long as she can bring her home, she’ll deal with any lingering problems when the time comes.’’
Brendan sighed. ‘‘Knowing what could happen doesn’t make dealing with it any easier.’’
‘‘I realize that, and so does she.’’ Cassie drew in a breath and forced back the threatening tears over Mrs. Neely’s parting words. ‘‘She also told me, ‘God’s given me a baby who needs me as much as I need her.’’’
Brendan leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head into the cradle of his hands. The silence was excruciating while Cassie sat helpless, waiting for him to speak, wondering what she could do to make him feel better.
When he failed to raise his head, she slipped behind him on her knees and rested her hands on his broad shoulders to try and knead the tension away. ‘‘I hate seeing you this way, Brendan. Talk to me.’’
‘‘I couldn’t help him…’’ His words trailed off on a lingering sigh.
‘‘Him? You mean her, don’t you? The Neely baby?’’
‘‘No, I mean…’’ He expelled another broken breath then straightened as if trying to recover. ‘‘It was years ago, and it doesn’t matter. It’s over.’’
No, it wasn’t over, at least not for him, whatever ‘‘it’’ was. She suspected he was thinking back to another baby, probably one he didn’t save. Most likely something he deemed a failure, a circumstance that had stuck with him even after a long passage of time.
Cassie had been trained to handle such instances with patients, most of them strangers, but Brendan wasn’t a stranger. Still, she wouldn’t push him for more information than he was capable of giving. She hoped that by allowing him space and time, he would eventually talk to her. At the moment she only wanted to comfort him, get him past this particular crisis.
Cassie tightened her hold on him. ‘‘Tell me what you need, Brendan. Tell me what I can do to help.’’
Looking back with a soulful gaze, he twined his fingers with hers. ‘‘I need you, Cassie. Only you.’’
She moved into his lap then and held him, her heart breaking for the strong yet troubled doctor. Turning her face up, she accepted his sudden kiss. Not the same kiss from the night before. This one was full of frustration, fueled by Brendan’s despair.