the girls—” she began to protest.
“Are being taken care of,” Simon assured the nanny. He turned to the woman who seemed to be a godsend—if he actually believed in things like that. “The girls’ school is on—”
Kennon held up her hand to stop him. “I grew up here,” she told him. “I know where Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton School is.” She began to usher the girls toward the front door. “By the way, the hospital you’re going to, you said that it was Blair Memorial—”
“Yes,” he cut in suspiciously. “Why?”
Definitely not the most trusting of men, she thought. Did the distrust come naturally to him, or had something caused it, she wondered.
“Nothing. I just wanted to say that Blair has a great reputation. My cousin is a pediatrician and she’s affiliated with Blair. Dr. Nicole Connors,” she supplied. She saw him raise a brow at the surname. “As it happens, she’s your real-estate agent’s daughter.” The moment she filled him in, she could guess at his next thought. “Yes, it really is a small world around here.” She turned her attention back to her temporary charges. “Okay, girls, we need to hustle if we’re going to get you to the school before lunch.”
“Lunch?” Madelyn cried, clearly dismayed. “Are we that late?”
Okay, she was going to have to tone down her humor, Kennon thought.
“Just another figure of speech,” she explained. With a hand once more on each girl’s shoulder, she ushered Madelyn and Meghan out the door. And then she looked over her shoulder at the doctor before hurrying off to her vehicle. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she promised in case he thought she was going to dawdle before returning to the nanny.
Simon nodded. “So will I,” he replied.
As the woman with the rapid-fire mouth left, closing the door behind her, Simon had the unshakable impression that he had just been in the company of a grade-five hurricane.
But at least he was still standing, he told himself, and that had to be worth something.
Blair Memorial Hospital was absolutely everything he’d been led to believe it was when he had first gotten in contact with Dr. Edward Hale. First-rate in all fields, it was state-of-the-art when it came to cardiac surgery. The hospital even boasted of having a Gamma Knife available. A Gamma Knife afforded surgeons a virtually unobtrusive method of operating that their brethren of the last century could have only dreamed about. For the most part, it had been regarded as science fiction—until it crossed over and became real.
At one point not that long ago, Simon would have gotten very excited about the possibilities that lay ahead of him. Except that these days he felt exceedingly guilty about allowing himself to feel anything but a profound sense of loss and sadness.
Nancy wouldn’t have wanted you to feel that way, the voice in his head insisted. The voice sounded a great deal like Edna at the moment because the woman had known his wife almost better than he had.
He knew that the voice—and Edna—were probably right. Nancy would have wanted him to move on. But he couldn’t. His body, his entire psyche felt as if it was stuck in molasses, in the past, unable to move, unable to blink. Unable to think of life without his partner, his helper, his soul mate.
Remember the girls. They need you.
This time, the voice in his head sounded a great deal like Nancy.
He realized that the chief of surgery was shaking his hand, a pleased expression on the older man’s broad, kind face.
“Well, I’ve got nothing further to say right now except welcome aboard, Doctor,” he told Simon. Eminently satisfied, the older man added, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Flashing an almost perfect set of teeth, he identified the quote. “That’s from Casablanca. You’ll forgive me, I’m a big movie buff. My wife, bless her, has another term for it, but I like movie buff better. Wives, God love ‘em, they’ve all got our number, don’t they?”
Hale chuckled as he looked at the face of Blair’s newest surgeon on staff. And then the chief of surgery suddenly grew somber.
“Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I forgot that your wife passed,” he said delicately, falling back on the squeaky-clean euphemism for death. “I’m sorry, Doctor. That had to have sounded very callous of me.”
Simon shook his head, doing his very best to detach his consciousness from his surroundings. He’d been doing that for a year now, whenever his thoughts or the conversation veered toward Nancy.
“No, that’s all right,” he demurred, hoping the matter would be dropped.
Not likely. Hale didn’t appear to be finished just yet. Concerned, he laid his hand on Simon’s shoulder and peered into the other man’s eyes.
“How are you getting along?” Hale asked, adding kindly, “Do you need anything?”
Yes, I need my wife back.
Stoically, Simon shook his head. “No, I’m fine. But that’s very kind of you.” Simon glanced at his watch. Three hours had gone by. Had the meeting taken that long? He didn’t feel as if it had, but it obviously must have. “If you don’t mind, my housekeeper’s ill and I’d like to check in on her.”
“Of course, of course.” Hale rose, pumping Simon’s hand again. “Let me know if there’s anything we can do for you here at Blair Memorial. Otherwise, we’ll be looking forward to seeing you at the hospital, say, on Thursday?” he suggested hopefully. He knew that most places began their people on a Monday, but he had another philosophy. “We’ll let you get your feet wet slowly,” he added with a chuckle. “I always found that was the best way. I don’t like overwhelming my doctors by having them start with a full week. Even a state-of-the-art hospital takes some getting used to,” he theorized.
“Thursday will be fine.”
“Remember,” Hale said, walking Simon to the glasspaneled door, “if you find you need anything, or just want someone to talk to, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. My door—and phone—are always open.” He clapped the new surgeon on the back. “I operate by a simple rule—Happy doctors are good doctors. I want to keep you happy, Dr. Sheffield.”
“I appreciate that, chief.” But you’re thirteen months too late for that. “Thank you again, sir.” And with that, Simon took his leave.
The second he turned down the corridor, Simon picked up speed.
He needed to get home to make sure that Edna was all right and that he hadn’t made a huge mistake by opening his doors to that decorator.
Granted that this Kennon Cassidy did seem to have an engaging manner about her, but from what he’d heard, so did the more successful con artists. Although he had nothing in the house that could be taken, still he would feel a great deal more at ease once he was back, attending to Edna himself.
And reclaiming his solitude.
Chapter Four
Even though he had traveled behind the woman’s vehicle for part of the way to Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton School and had subsequently called the principal, Sister Therese, to make sure that his daughters had arrived and each was in her proper classroom, the bottom line was that Simon was more than a little annoyed with himself for having actually relied on a woman he really didn’t know from Adam.
Well, maybe not Adam, he amended. Didn’t know from Eve would have been the more appropriate description, given that no one in their right mind would ever mistake Kennon Cassidy for anything but an exquisite example of womanhood.
His observation caught him off guard, completely surprising him. Where had that come from?
Ever since the tsunami had taken Nancy and