Will And The Headstrong Female Part 12

Painfully aware of what he saw, she still managed to lift her chin defiantly. "What look?"

"The sad one."

Denise opened her mouth to retort that he was imagining things, then stopped. He'd shown her a nice time tonight He didn't deserve to be repaid with a lie. Wasn't that why she'd told him about David in the first place? So he could understand?

A smile flirted with her lips. "You do drive a hard bargain, Will Cutler."

Will took her face between his hands and kissed her so softly, she felt her soul aching. And melting away from her as quickly as a block of ice left unattended in the July sun.

She sighed against his lips. "A d.a.m.n hard bargain."

"I always was the smart one in my family," he murmured before his lips took hers again, this time with far more feeling, far more enthusiasm.

She clung to the kiss, to promises she knew couldn't be fulfilled. Clung to him because, just for a moment, she pretended that he was the fantasy prince she'd once believed David to be.

But fantasy princes were all just that-fantasy. And she had a six-year-old daughter, an ailing father and a failing business to see to. Reality allowed fantasy a very short shelf life.

"I'd better go and relieve your mother."

He closed his hand over hers, holding her in place a second longer. "I don't think she'll be all that relieved. My mother dotes on anyone under four feet. I know she loves looking after Audra."

Denise stood up on her toes, her mouth tantalizingly close to his. "If you're trying to talk me into leaving Audra with your mother a while longer and going off with you..."

"Yes?" he asked encouragingly.

She drew her hand away and patted his chest. "You should save that sweet talk and use it on someone who counts."

"I am," he said as she turned to walk inside. "And you do."

She didn't turn around. "Don't say that," she ordered, disappearing inside.

"Even if I didn't," Will said to the emptiness that took her place, "it wouldn't make it any less true."

He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away.

"Why, Will, did you wait out here to walk me to your father's booth?"

Will smiled, offering his mother his arm as she stepped out of the trailer. "Can't have my best girl walking around in the dark by herself."

Zoe touched his cheek. Will was the one who had never given her a moment's concern, who had always been there, ready and willing to help without a complaint on his lips. She'd known almost from the moment he was born that he had a heart of gold.

She wished she could protect it now, but he was a grown man and there wasn't anything she could do. Except love him.

"Your best girl sees right through you, Will Alan Cutler," she told him as they walked through the grounds. "She'll come around."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Mom."

"Uh-huh." Zoe waited a beat before saying, "Audra's crazy about you. That's half the battle."

"Not for a woman who thrives on war," he replied, more to himself than to her.

"I don't need you tagging along all the time. Don't you have a boss somewhere, getting mad because you're never there?"

Denise glared at Will who had insisted on accompanying her to the hospital. After the other night, he'd shown up on the grounds the next day, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. And continued to act that way. Which was just the way she'd wanted it.

Or thought she did until it actually went that way. Then it bothered her that he hadn't thought their night at the carnival was anything more than just a few pleasant hours. She'd bared some of her soul to him, for crying out loud. Didn't that mean anything to him?

But just as she'd sh.o.r.ed up her beaches again, he'd appeared before her trailer door this morning, announcing that he was going to take her to the hospital to pick up her father who was finally being released today.

She hadn't said a word to him about that. How did he even know her father was supposed to come home?

Grudgingly, because part of her did welcome his company and his moral support, she finally got into Will's car and allowed him to drive her to the hospital.

In an odd sort of way, Will was getting used to her suspicions and having her question his every move. Funny how quickly that had fallen into place.

Just as quickly as his feelings for her had.

"You'd make a wonderful truant officer, Denise." He drove past one of Serendipity's three elementary schools. The newest one that he had helped design. It started him thinking. "Speaking of truant, what do you do about Audra's schooling during the year?"

What gave him the right to think he could just pry into her affairs as if she'd invited him to do so?

"I take care of it." The dubious look he gave her galvanized her defenses into place. "If it's any business of yours, I took all the tests and got the necessary papers to allow me to conduct her cla.s.ses at home. Audra already knows more about geography than the average adult," she told him proudly. "And she learned how to read when she was four. Dad's in charge of teaching her the finer points of math and she knows all the parts required to put together a first-cla.s.s Ferris wheel. I'd say she was getting a d.a.m.n fine education, thank you for asking."

Will laughed, slowly easing the car around the next corner. "I don't think I've ever been thanked with quite that much venom before." He spared her a glance. "Don't know why I keep coming back for more." Yeah, he did, he thought Knew d.a.m.n well why.

She took offense at the teasing remark because it was easier to deal with it that way than to let it hurt "That makes two of us. I can't seem to get rid of you."

He stopped at one of the few lights. "Do you really want to?"

No, she didn't and that was what was wrong. "I already told you, this isn't going to go anywhere."

"You didn't answer my question. Do you really want me to go?"

If he wanted to hear her say that she wanted him to stay, he had a long wait ahead of him. But she wasn't going to lie outright, either. "No, not yet I suppose. Your family's coming in very handy."

The light turned green, and he took his foot off the brake. "So, you want me for my family. The least you could say was that you wanted me for my body."

She was trying very hard not to want him for his body-among other things-and not succeeding very well at it. "Why, is that what they usually say?"

"They?"

The quick shrug was meant to reek of indifference. "The other women you've been with."

Will saw no reason for games. "As all my brothers will gladly tell you at the least possible provocation, the last female's company I enjoyed was the family dog, Queenie. I was always too busy to think about relationships and socializing." Taking another turn, he drove onto the hospital lot.

Denise couldn't see how that was possible. Not with his looks and certainly not with his manner. To put icing on the cake, the man was a professional. He had everything going for him. How could there not be women in his life? There had been in David's. Even while she was offering him her soul, there'd been someone else in the wings. That's just the way men were.

She got out of the car before he could open the door for her. "And you're suddenly not too busy?"

What did it take to convince this woman that he wasn't like the last man in her life? Will thought "h.e.l.l, yes. But that doesn't seem to make a difference when it comes to you." The electronic doors of the pristine blue-and-white building opened to admit them. "The day I was making the presentation-the day you ran me off the road-all I could think about was you."

"I did not run you off the road," she insisted heatedly. But a touch of vanity goaded her into asking, "Why?" as they walked into the elevator.

He knew what she was asking. Will pressed for the second floor. "d.a.m.ned if I know. But I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since."

She didn't know what to say to that Didn't know how to feel about that Other than afraid.

The doors opened again and Will ushered her toward the nurses' station, a tiny desk that was littered with patients' charts and an army of inexpensive black pens, all without their caps on.

The nurse at the desk looked up as they approached. Will didn't recognize her. "We're here to take Mr. Cavanaugh home."

Denise was about to inform him that she was perfectly able to sign her father out herself, but what the nurse said in response stopped her.

"Certainly." She plucked Tate's chart from the pile as if she'd been waiting for them to arrive. "If you'll just go see the cashier and bring back a receipt, we can sign Mr. Cavanaugh out." She tapped the sheet clipped to the outside of the chart. "The doctor's left discharge papers and instructions."

Denise wet her lips. Now she really wished Will hadn't come along. This was going to be embarra.s.sing enough as it was without having him witness it. "The cashier?"

"Yes, right downstairs." The nurse indicated the elevator behind them. "The office behind the Admitting desk."

Will could sense her tension. It wasn't hard to guess its source. "C'mon," he urged, taking her arm, "it won't take long."

She sighed, the fight temporarily drained out of her. "It will if they want to be paid in full before they release him."

He rang for the elevator. "They're not unreasonable. Some arrangement can be made."

The redheaded woman in the cashier's office sighed, looking at the chart before her. She re-read the admission sheet on the inside cover.

"No insurance, no permanent address." She looked up, directing her question to Will. "Who authorized this?"

"Doc Black." Will leaned over the desk. He'd gone to school with the woman. They'd shared the same dismal grade in World History. "Come on, Vera, Mr. Cavanaugh's already had the services and he and his daughter intend to pay the bill. You can come up with some kind of schedule of payments, can't you?" he coaxed. "You were always good in math."

"Better than you," she reminded him, looking at the printout again. The dubious frown refused to disappear. "I don't know, with no collateral..."

"We've got plenty of collateral," Denise interjected with just a touch of desperation coloring her indignation. "We have the carnival rides."

Not saying a word, Vera turned the bill around on her desk so that Denise could see the total.

Denise's heart sank as she stared at the astronomical figure. After surgery, her father had gone into the coronary care unit. And then the doctor had authorized a longer stay at the hospital to observe Tate in case something unexpected developed. That translated into a huge bill. There was no schedule of payments the hospital could come up with that would begin to dig her out from under the debt.

The solution that occurred to Denise was too drastic for her to cope with immediately. Yet there was no other option available.

Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders as her eyes met the woman's. "We'll sell the rides. That'll cover the bill."

Will stared at her. He didn't know nearly as much as he would have wanted to about Denise, but there was one thing he was positive of-she loved the carnival rides. If she hadn't, he knew she would have left the road a long time ago.

"You don't mean that," Will said.

The last thing she wanted was sympathy, because sympathy was only pity in a fancy coat. Denise lashed out at him.

"Don't tell me what I mean," she snapped. "I said we didn't owe anyone and we're going to keep it that way. I'd sell the rides a dozen times over in exchange for my father's health."

"All right." Vera drew out another paper from her side drawer. "I just need you to sign this form about your intent to make proper rest.i.tution." She saw the question in Denise's eyes. "It's just a formality. The hospital likes to have everything doc.u.mented."

"Fine." Denise ground the word out between her teeth as she signed.

"Is there someone you can sell the rides to?" It didn't strike Will as the easiest thing in the world to undertake.

Having signed the papers, Denise could now hardly feel her legs as they walked out of the cashier's office. She looked down at the receipt in her curled fingers. Her father's ticket out. And their swan song.

She shrugged in reply, only half listening. "There's this organization that's been looking to buy us out. Zenith Rides. It likes to eliminate the compet.i.tion," she said cryptically. "They'll pay for the rides."

He could see that this was killing her inside, but he knew that she'd never agree to accept a private loan from him. Her pride forbid it.

"Fair price?"

No, it wouldn't be, Denise thought. The organization knew they were down on their luck. They could smell blood.

But she didn't feel like going into that with him right now. "I don't have time to d.i.c.ker."

Impatient, Denise punched the elevator b.u.t.ton again. The steel gray doors remained closed, the bell silent. Where was the d.a.m.n elevator?

"The form said you had six months," he said pointedly.

Did he think she couldn't read? She knew what it said. And it didn't make a difference. "Six months, six days, what does it matter? I'm not going to be able to come up with that kind of money anytime soon."

Will's better judgment and discretion evaporated in the face of her unhappiness. "I could lend-"

She turned on him, her eyes bright with unshed tears just as the elevator finally arrived.

"Don't even say it Don't even start. I am no one to you and you're not going to lend me anything." She almost flung herself into the elevator.

She had a way of sapping his patience, Will thought, even if he understood her need for pride. He'd been there himself, in a place where there was nothing but pride to see you through. But it didn't have to be that way with her.

"d.a.m.n it, Denny, why don't you take down that stone wall you've built around you and let someone help you?"

"Because if I take down that stone wall-" her voice almost broke. "-I haven't got anything to protect me."

"From what?" he demanded.

"From you," she blurted out, then collected herself. "From being hurt again. And please, don't start talking to me about apples and orchards. That sounds very nice under a star-filled sky, but this is broad daylight and things look very different in broad daylight."

He wasn't giving up, but he was tottering perilously close to the edge. "You're not headstrong, you're bullheaded."

"Maybe," she allowed, "but I'm still around to tell the story."