Nursing the Soldier's Heart. Merrillee Whren

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Nursing the Soldier's Heart - Merrillee Whren


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Cora’s grandson. It would do Cora no good.

      Four doors down the hall Kirsten came to Cora’s room. The door was slightly ajar. A television blared with the local news.

      Kirsten peered through the small opening. While Cora’s roommate watched the television, Cora appeared to be sleeping. Not wanting to disturb her, Kirsten backed away, but she caught sight of a man with a scruffy appearance sitting in the chair at the foot of Cora’s bed.

      Who was he, and what was he doing there while Cora slept? Kirsten’s radar for trouble zoomed into action.

      * * *

      Brady sat on the chair at the foot of his grandmother’s bed and glanced around the room. What would he find here at The Village of Hope? His grandmother had come to live here after she’d had a slight stroke about four years ago. He’d prayed this place was a good home for her.

      At the time, he’d been in the army over in Afghanistan. There had been no chance to get home to see her. He shouldn’t use that as an excuse because even when he’d been stateside, he’d never taken the opportunity to spend time with the person who’d saved him from foster care. He’d never appreciated that until now. He should’ve come to see her rather than calling her a few times a year.

      Guilt for the years he’d stayed away consumed his thoughts. The time had come to make amends—to renew his relationship with the one person on this earth who actually cared about him. She looked so frail lying there, her gnarled fingers resting on top of the blanket. What had happened to the robust woman of his childhood?

      Was she okay? Her eyes were still closed and she didn’t move a muscle, but the steady rise and fall of her chest eased his mind. Her glasses and her well-worn Bible lay on the table next to the bed. She used to read that Bible every day and had gone to church every Sunday. He’d disregarded her faith—even mocked it. He was sorry about that, too.

      So many of the decisions he’d made had been made with only a thought to his own life. Could he break that pattern? It might not be easy, but the time had come for him to think about someone besides himself.

      Brady’s stomach rumbled, and he glanced out the window at the tall pines interspersed with oaks and maples with leaves that held a hint of fall color. He wished he’d stopped to eat, but he’d wanted to get here before the place closed to visitors. Did they have a cafeteria where he could get supper, or a vending machine? If he went searching, he might run into the disagreeable nurse who had left far too many messages on his voice mail. Shaking his head, he smiled at his ridiculous thoughts. Why was he afraid to face this unknown woman of the numerous phone calls?

      He was done hiding out in his grandmother’s room. He would march out there and let the nurse know he was here. Brady Hewitt—soldier, oil-rig worker, commercial fisherman and all-around good guy. That last part was a stretch, but he was working on the good-guy stuff.

      Pushing out of the chair, Brady looked toward the door. A nurse stood in the doorway. Their gazes met. Her chocolate-brown eyes held him captive, and he couldn’t look away. He fought to keep his mouth from dropping open. Did this attractive woman belong to the impersonal voice he’d heard over and over on his phone? Maybe she wasn’t the nurse who’d called. He could hope. He hated to think that such a pretty face served as a facade for those unpleasant messages.

      “Sir, may I speak with you out here in the hall?” The nurse motioned with her hand.

      Nodding, Brady sauntered across the room to the door. He couldn’t mistake the voice. The frosty tones on his phone’s voice-mail messages belonged to the attractive nurse. He followed the nurse, whose dark hair was pulled into a knot at the back of her head. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

      Although she wasn’t short, she had to look up at him. “Do you mind telling me why you’re in this room?”

      “Cora Barton is my grandmother. Is there a problem?” He feigned an innocent expression along with a smile as he rubbed his stubble-covered chin.

      His height advantage didn’t intimidate her as her dark eyes seemed to bore into his soul. She frowned. “So you’re Brady Hewitt. I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Make that weeks. Why didn’t you tell us when you arrived? Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

      “So you’re Kirsten Bailey. Nice to meet you, too.” He broadened his smile into a grin. Could he make her smile? She was the beauty and the beast rolled into one. Prickly and pretty all at the same time. Or maybe she was the beauty, and he was the beast. His disheveled looks might put him in that category. Was she going to chastise him? “Yes, I’m Brady Hewitt, and I arrived a few minutes ago. I know you’ve been trying to reach me.”

      “At least you could’ve told us you were coming, so I wouldn’t have kept calling.”

      He’d lived on the edge for most of his life. He liked a challenge, and he could sense she was going to be one. “You know after listening to dozens of your messages, I figured I wasn’t really interested in talking to you. But now that I’m here I’ll let you know what I think.”

      “And what would that be?” Kirsten gave him a defiant look.

      She wasn’t backing down, and he liked that. But he wasn’t going to back down, either. “You need to work on your bedside manner, Kirsten. Is it okay if I call you Kirsten?”

      Blinking, she opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, then closed it without uttering a word. She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what he’d said. Okay, then. She obviously didn’t have a sense of humor, either. Now what?

      They stood there staring at each other until Kirsten finally blinked. “We have rules here, very strict rules about people coming and going.”

      Brady gave her a lazy grin. “Ma’am, I apologize if I broke your rules, but my name was on the list at the guardhouse at the main entrance, and the lady at the front door here had my name, as well. She buzzed me right in.”

      “But didn’t she tell you to check at the nurses’ station for Cora’s room number?”

      “She did, but on my way in, I met, ah... Annie was her name. She had two cute kids with her. The little girl was quite talkative and said they’d been visiting my grandmother. They gave me her room number and directions to get here.” Brady could tell by Kirsten’s expression she didn’t have a response for his explanation. He took some pleasure in knowing he had her tongue-tied. “So you see I had no reason to check at the nurse’s station.”

      Tight-lipped, Kirsten nodded. “Please remember in the future to let us know you’re here. For security reasons, we like to know who’s in the building.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be glad to check in with you.” Brady saluted, hoping to get a smile out of her, but none appeared. “Since Cora’s sleeping, is there some place where I can get something to eat?”

      “Follow me.” Kirsten turned on her heel and proceeded down the hall.

      Brady followed. He’d better behave himself because he’d sure hate to further annoy the pretty nurse. His haggard appearance wasn’t going to win him any accolades. Nearly twelve hours of driving could take a toll on anyone’s looks. And he had to remember this wasn’t all about him.

      When she reached the nurses’ station, she stopped and turned in his direction. “Let me introduce you to the other late-shift nurse, Jen Chafin. Jen, this is Brady Hewitt, Cora’s grandson.”

      The other nurse, who was older and a little on the plump side but with a much friendlier demeanor, came out from behind the counter and extended her hand to him. “Hello, Mr. Hewitt. So glad you’re finally here.”

      Brady shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Jen. Please call me Brady since I’ll be hanging around here as long as Cora’s here.”

      “She’s a dear. We love her, but we’re eager for her to make a complete recovery and get back in her apartment.” Jen smiled.

      He was glad to


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