Finding Her Home. Carol Steward

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      She felt a wave of dizziness and hurried to the elevators.

      “You okay?” He pulled her away from the door and pressed the elevator button. “Can I get you anything?”

      Would this embarrassment never end? “I’ll be fine as soon as I eat something.” She reached into her bag. “I was in such a hurry this morning, I forgot the bagel I toasted. I have hypoglycemia. As my emergency granola bar will prove, I haven’t had a problem with it for a long time.” She held up the foil pouch with the label worn off, and tore it open, then took a bite.

      “I think maybe I’d better drive,” he said.

      “You’ve done too much already, Steven.”

      “Friends call me Steve.” The elevators opened and he ushered her inside. A group of female nurses stared at them in silence. “Parking garage, please.”

      She lifted her gaze to his, “I parked in the east lot.”

      “We’re not taking your car,” Steve said.

      She shook her head. “You don’t know where I live.”

      “I’m about to find out, because you’re in no condition to drive.” As if he, too, had become aware of the attention they were drawing, he added, “With the stress of your grandmother’s stroke, you have to be sure to eat and take care of yourself.”

      The elevator stopped and the nurses left, giggles erupting as the doors closed.

      “Stroke? She had a stroke?” Tori collapsed against the corner of the tiny cubicle. The air seemed to be getting thicker.

      He looked at her, shocked. “Isn’t that what they said?”

      “I didn’t hear that specifically. I didn’t want to ask….” She took several deep breaths. “What a spectacle I’ve made today. I’m not usually like this, Steven.”

      “Steve.” He lifted her chin. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s been a lot to handle, with your parents out of the country on a mission and no one else nearby to help. It wouldn’t be easy on anyone.”

      She willed back the tears she wanted desperately to shed. “I’m not ready to let her go. Abuela practically raised me.”

      “The doctor sounded hopeful.”

      The elevator opened and they stepped into the cool air of the parking garage. “You really think he sounded positive, that she’s going to be okay?”

      “I do.” Steve led the way to his truck. “Of course, you need to be realistic at the same time. She may not make a full recovery. But your grandmother is a strong woman who will get through this.”

      Tori didn’t want to hear platitudes—from the doctor, a nurse or a good-looking, smooth-talking rancher who had probably never met her grandmother before. “Abuela is strong, and she won’t give up. I won’t let her.”

      Steve opened the passenger-side door and helped her inside. “I don’t doubt it for a minute.”

      She poured some of the broken granola into her mouth and crunched so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. “So what do you want for lunch? There are several fast-food places to choose from between here and my place.”

      “I’d just as soon get you home. We can grab a bite there. You need to get back to your grandparents.”

      She gave him the once-over. “You don’t look like the yogurt-and-fruit kind of guy—” Her door closed, cutting her off. Watching his confident stride take him around the truck, she felt like a teenager ogling a new kid at school. He opened the driver’s door and stepped up. “And that’s about all that’s in my fridge at the moment.”

      “You’re right about that, but I can get something to eat when I run errands.” He started the truck and backed out, then gave her a choice of right or left when he reached the exit of the parking garage.

      Tori pointed to the right.

      “I’m very curious just what kind of guy you think I am.”

      “Haven’t met a rancher yet who would turn down any sort of beef. Besides, that fruit and yogurt just didn’t look right on you. Turn left at the next light.”

      He laughed. “You don’t say. So what would a man use to figure out what sort of woman you are?” He stopped at the red arrow and turned to her. One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

      Before she could answer, the light changed and she had to give the final directions to her condo.

      He pulled into the driveway and opened his door, then reached across the seat and took her briefcase. “Come out this side so the sprinkler doesn’t soak you to the skin.” Steve offered a hand as she slid across the seat and helped her maintain her balance on the way down to the ground.

      “So, what’ll it be, Tori? Give me a chance to figure out what sort of woman you are.”

      Tori felt herself blush. She hurried to put the key in the lock and stepped into the cool living room.

      Was he flirting with her? Tori felt an odd sense of regret. One, that it had been so long since she’d had a man in her life that she had to stop and assess their conversation to answer her own question. And two, that she hadn’t even realized until just now exactly how long it had been since she’d been out on a date.

      Whatever the case, she shrugged, unable to even think of one answer to his question. “If I’m going to wash our clothes, we’re going to have to take them off first.”

      Chapter Two

      “I don’t believe I just said that!” Tori’s neatly manicured hand covered her face as she blushed a deeper shade of pink. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

      Steve laughed. “That tells a lot about what kind of woman you are. It’s quite revealing.” He took the hospital scrubs from her clutches. Her thin face and high cheekbones glowed pink clear down to the V of her polo shirt. “And you thought you needed to eat. Looks like all you needed was someone to get your heart pounding again.”

      Long, delicate fingers inched down her cheeks and those onyx eyes looked up at him. He could drown in her gaze.

      Wished he could, anyway. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist giving you a bad time. Which way to the bathroom?”

      “First door on the right. I think you’ll find everything you need. Towels and washcloths are in the cabinet. Help yourself. I’ll order pizza and salad, if that’s okay. I think it will arrive the quickest of anything. What kind do you like?”

      “Deep-dish, supreme, everything but the kitchen sink.”

      Tori grabbed half of a toasted bagel, which lay on a paper towel on the ceramic tile table near the door, and held it up. “See this—I had breakfast made.” She spread a little peanut butter on it, then took a small bite and reached for the phone, her pointer finger scanning a list nearby. “Drinks?” Tori punched in the numbers, СКАЧАТЬ