on her shoulders. “Can we at least stop somewhere so I can grab a sandwich?” Procrastination at its finest. “I appreciated the lunch, but it was a long time ago.”
“And you only ate one slice of pizza.”
Yet another unpleasant surprise. As if there hadn’t been enough of them already. “You’re checking up on me? What do you care if I eat?”
“I told you. This isn’t about you. It’s about my father’s practice and your ability to hold it together until he returns. Frankly, I don’t think you’ll last. I think you’ll bail at the first opportunity. But until you do, I’m going to do my part.”
Indignation stiffened her spine. “I keep my promises.”
“We’ll see about that.” He held open her car door, then closed it behind her, sealing her inside the silent compartment. Trapped. The word echoed through her brain and made her skin crawl. She’d never been prone to claustrophobia, but she suspected this need to claw her way out might be how it felt.
Anger steamed through her. Why had she come back? Why had she let herself be suckered into helping?
Because you want this debt behind you so you can finally find some peace.
Adam rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. “Passing out due to low blood sugar won’t get you out of helping. You can eat in the hospital cafeteria—our food is good. I need to check on Dad one more time before going home. When I left—”
He clamped his jaw shut and wrenched the key in the ignition. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Witnessing his emotional response deflated her anger and dredged up a reciprocal concern she did not want or need.
“How is Danny?” She wished the words back the instant they escaped. She’d been fighting with herself all afternoon trying not to care, but that was easier said than done when she’d been treading the tiles she and Danny had walked together so often.
“Surgery went as well as could be expected.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, turning the opposite direction from his house. Her nails dug into the armrest. She wanted to insist he take her back to his place. But judging by his hard face and white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, arguing would be a waste of time. She was at Adam’s mercy, dependent on him for food, shelter and transportation. She’d resolved after the crash to never let herself rely on anyone again, and yet here she was.
She should have brought the truck, but she worried every time she took a long trip that it wouldn’t make it home. Then what would she do? She wouldn’t be able to reach the livestock on surrounding farms.
The truck’s starter was at the top of the list of expensive things needing repair. On the drive home from Georgia Saturday she’d been afraid to turn off the engine when she filled the gas tank for fear that the vehicle wouldn’t restart, and then she’d have to pay for a tow from someone besides the mechanic who traded his skills for animal care. Working here instead of at home meant she wasn’t earning the money she’d need to buy the parts.
But her debt to Danny was one that money couldn’t repay. So if she had to go to the hospital then she would, but she wouldn’t leave empty-handed. She had questions of her own for Danny, like why had he created the elaborate cover story? Why and for how long had he been spying on her? Did he honestly believe she’d throw away the life she’d fought so hard to build and return here to the place where she’d been betrayed?
Adam made the drive in silence, which suited her fine. Andrew would have filled the ride with chatter about his day, his patients, his brilliance, his skills.
She glanced again at the tense man beside her. The only thing she and Adam agreed on was that neither of them wanted her here. The hospital came into view and memories impaled her like shards of shattered glass. She fought to conceal her response to the sight of the big yellow-brick building. If Adam noticed the cold sweat beading her upper lip, he didn’t mention it.
He passed the emergency entrance, then public parking, before turning into an employee lot where he had to swipe his ID in order for the gate arm to lift. He pulled into a space near the building with a sign marked Hospital Administrator. Adam had been the rule-following twin. He wouldn’t squat on someone else’s turf. That meant he’d found success outside his brother’s and father’s shadows.
“Have you worked here long?”
“A little over three years.”
She followed him through an employee entrance, which also required the use of his card. A rainbow of scrub-garbed employees strode briskly through the halls. She checked her watch. It was close to the 7:00 p.m. shift change. Most people nodded or spoke to Adam as they passed. Apparently he was liked and respected here, which suggested he wasn’t always the arrogant sourpuss he presented to her. A barrage of curious glances fired her way, but he didn’t introduce her to anyone.
The staff elevator was packed when they entered, forcing her to stand too close to Adam. She turned her back and faced the doors like everybody else, but unlike the others, she was totally aware of the man behind her. His scent. His body heat. Her palms moistened and her pulse quickened. An anxiety reaction to the hospital? Yes, that was all it was.
The doors opened and four more people stepped in, forcing her to squeeze even closer to Adam. He put a hand on her back to stop her and the impact hit her like a spark of static electricity. She prayed he didn’t notice her jump.
“How’s your dad?” one of the men asked.
“He came through surgery well. Thank you, Ted.”
Adam’s breath stirred her hair, sending a shiver skittering down her spine. No, she wasn’t reacting to him, but to his twin, the one whose memory had been dogging her footsteps all day.
But it couldn’t be a reaction to Andrew, she admitted reluctantly. Andrew had never made her insides quiver by simply breathing. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let it be because of Adam, either. It was likely just abstinence causing the chaos. Damn her deprived, confused hormones. They were soaking up Adam’s maleness like a drought-ridden field did a summer rain.
She tried to think of something besides the man behind her. But her mind went blank. She focused on her breathing, then on feeling the floor beneath each of her toes. But no matter what she did, she couldn’t dull her hypersensitivity to Adam’s proximity.
The doors opened again. “This is our floor.”
His hand touched her waist again, delivering another jolt. She bustled out as quickly as she could without knocking aside the others crammed into the box. She’d rather face Dr. Drake and the hospital room instead of this crazy hormonal imbalance.
The minute she cleared the crowd the smell hit her. Antiseptic. Alcohol-based hand sanitizer. Scorched coffee. Leftover food from the rack of trays waiting to be picked up. Hospital smells were the kind you never forgot. Then the muffled sounds penetrated the pulse pounding her eardrums. Hushed voices. A distant cough. Someone moaning in pain. Televisions on different channels droning from multiple rooms. She hadn’t forgotten the noises, either. When you lie in bed with nothing to think about except your misery, you searched for any distraction.
“He’s at the end of the hall.” Adam’s long stride carried him away.
Her mouth dried. It wasn’t the same floor, but the layout was identical. Different paint and tile colors didn’t change the memories or the emotions this place evoked. She didn’t want to be here, but she would get through it the same way she’d gotten through everything else life had thrown at her—by treating each difficult moment like the Iditarod, gritting her teeth and soldiering on step after step, mile after mile. The sooner she did this, the sooner Adam would take her home. No, not home—his house. Back to that shrine to Andrew. But even that was better than here.
She ordered her feet forward, then stopped outside the room, where Adam guarded the entrance. Through the open door she spotted Helen in the recliner by the bed. Her former mother-in-law hadn’t noticed their arrival. She