Medical Romance September 2016 Books 1-6. Tina Beckett

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СКАЧАТЬ would like to do good by Chloe for that contest—make the best kite we can.” He paused. “Unless you think the Space Needle isn’t something she would be interested in.”

      Her icy heart thawed. “It would be the highlight of her year. Do you really think you can pull off winning?”

      “No.”

      The wind went right out of her sails. “Oh, of course, I don’t expect you to—”

      His hand came out as if he was going to brush a strand of hair out of her face, but he put it back down. “I don’t want to win it on my own. I’ve been thinking. I really want Chloe to feel she’s had a part in making the kite. It would make me feel...I would like her to feel included. Are you okay with that?”

      “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

      “Well, after that business at the park, I wondered if...” He paused again. “If you’d tell me to forget the whole thing.”

      If she were smart, she might do exactly that, but Chloe was looking forward to working with Kaleb on it. “It doesn’t matter what I want or don’t want. Chloe would be devastated if I tried to keep her from that kite. I told her about it purring, and she can’t wait to hear it for herself. And to see it fly. So, yes, I’m happy to keep working together, until the festival is done. Then we can go our separate ways.”

      “I’ll try not to make it any more uncomfortable than it has to be.”

      “I’ve been uncomfortable before and survived with barely a nick.”

      Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Matthew had given her more than one nick. Some worse than others. No, this would be nothing compared to that. And if she could make it through the stuff in her past, she could make it through anything.

      Kaleb studied her for a moment or two. “I think you have. Survived, that is.”

      “We all have, or we wouldn’t be here.” She shook her head. “What do you want Chloe and me to do?”

      “I want to know what her favorite colors are. And to know if we’re going for a realistic representation of a cat or an abstract fun version. Can you ask your daughter which she’d prefer?”

      “I can already tell you that. She adores Jetta. She would probably love it if the kite could look very similar to him. Right down to his different-colored eyes.”

      “I didn’t notice the cat having two different eyes.”

      “Really? Most people see it right away. He has one bright green and one amber.”

      “My mind wasn’t exactly on your cat’s eyes.”

      That sardonic sense of humor was back in full force.

      Well, she wasn’t going to touch that last comment. Not if she knew what was good for her. Although that was debatable at the moment. “Well, they’re one of his best features.”

      “I thought his best feature was his purr. It was loud. Really loud.”

      “Jetta does have quite a motor on him. Is that why you decided to make the kite version of him purr?”

      “It seemed fitting. Although if Chloe had decided on a unicorn cat, I was going to have a little trouble figuring out that aspect of it.”

      “I’ll ask her, just to make sure, but I’m pretty sure she would love having Jetta immortalized in kite form. Without the horn.”

      “You got it.” He pushed the button to get back into the elevator. It was then that she noticed her department was bustling just as much as it normally was with nurses running here and there as they went about their tasks. It was strange that she hadn’t been aware of any of that until just now. No, she’d only had eyes for the man with the kite. And it looked as if he was aiming to win.

      He already had, as far as she was concerned. That worried her. But she could think about that later.

      “Thank you again, Kaleb, for doing this for her.”

      “My pleasure.” This time when his hand came out, he didn’t stop midmotion. Instead, he pressed his fingers to hers for several seconds until the elevator door dinged its arrival. Only then did he move away. But the feel of his skin against hers followed her long after the doors had closed behind him.

      * * *

      Kaleb woke with a start. Staring up at the dark ceiling, he tried to figure out where he was. His room.

      He untangled himself from the sheets and hung his legs over the side of the bed, propping himself up with his hands. He was drenched in sweat.

      Again.

      Dammit.

      He dragged shaky fingers through his hair, trying to slow his breathing.

      Those dreams were now following him from sleep to sleep. He shifted his head from one side to the other, letting the crack of his cervical vertebrae anchor him back to reality.

      His daughter was not trapped in a bottomless well. Nor had he been trying everything in his power to reach her: ropes, life preservers, scaling the walls with his bare hands. He lifted his fingers to look at them. No bloody stumps.

      “It was a dream.”

      A never-ending nightmare was more like it.

      Because the reality was that Grace had never been trapped in a well. Instead the vision always morphed to something closer to reality. His daughter, splayed on a hospital bed, her face paler than pale. Only in his dream, he reached for her chart to see what treatment her doctors recommended only to find the first page stamped with the words Too Late. As was the next. Page after page held the same terrible phrase. He flipped faster and faster, looking for some sign of hope. There had to be something. Something the doctors—something that he—could do. Panic engulfed him, along with a horrible premonition. He slowly turned back toward the bed.

      This was where he’d woken up each night. With the horror that it was no longer Grace’s lifeless form lying on that bed, but Chloe’s. And on the other side of her was Maddy. And in her face an accusation he’d lobbed at himself.

      Too Late.

      Hell! He climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Maybe if he burned some calories, he’d feel better. But thirty minutes in his weight room only left him tired and sweaty. It did nothing to erase what he’d seen in his dream.

      Grace had been dead for five years. He hadn’t had nightmares about her in ages. Was it because of Chloe and Maddy? Were they dredging up old regrets and flaying them open all over again?

      Chloe was a normal healthy girl. She and Grace had nothing in common. Not their age, not their appearance.

      Going into his drawing room, he sat at the drafting table to look at the designs for the kite. It was almost done. Almost ready for Chloe and Maddy to come over and...

      Was that what it was? He was worried about them coming into his space and upsetting his equilibrium?

      It СКАЧАТЬ