Will And The Headstrong Female Part 6

Kent wasn't elaborating, Denise thought. Panic frayed nerves that had already been undone by Will. "What's the matter?" She hurried past Kent into the house even as she asked. "Is it Audra?"

"No, it's your father." Kent shut the door behind him.

She looked at Kent incredulously. She felt her heart being squeezed. "Dad?"

Denise immediately thought the worst. It had become her nature to gravitate to that rather than hold onto hopeful possibilities. She looked around, struggling with guilt, half expecting to see her father lying slumped on the floor. She shouldn't have listened to him. She shouldn't have brought him here. All that rich food-what had she been thinking?

Guilt grew larger. What she'd been thinking was that she wanted a respite and had used her father's urging as an excuse, that's what.

And now her father was paying for it.

Audra ran in from the other room. Her face was bewildered as she wrapped her arms around her mother and pulled her into the living room. "Mama, Mama, Grampa's sick."

Tate Cavanaugh was lying on the sofa, his long, lanky frame filling it from one end to the other. His head was down while his feet were elevated, propped up by a number of pillows. By the expression on his face, he felt foolish, as if he'd involuntarily made a spectacle of himself.

"I'm all right." It p.r.i.c.ked his conscience that Denise turned completely pale when she walked into the room and saw him lying like this. "I got a little dizzy. It's just indigestion, nothing else." He tried to turn his head to look at his hostess and found that he didn't have enough strength to complete the maneuver. "No reflection on your cooking, Zoe."

"My cooking be hanged," she retorted. "It's not anything as simple as indigestion and you know it, Tate Cavanaugh." She fixed him with the same intent look she'd used on her children when they were growing up to extract the truth from them. "When's the last time you had a complete physical?"

Tate shrugged, staring at the ceiling. "Can't say as I remember."

She knew it, Denise thought. She knew she should have bullied him into going to see a doctor six months ago, when he'd first started looking so drained. Denise bit back self-disgust and mounting panic.

"That's because the last time he had a complete physical, the doctor held him upside down by his ankles and slapped him on the rump." She looked at her father accusingly. "He hasn't had one since the day he was born."

Tate knew it was useless to argue with the truth. He didn't even try.

"Men," Zoe muttered, tucking another pillow under Tate's legs. "Stubborn jacka.s.ses, every one of them and I'm in a position to know." She shot a look toward her husband for good measure, in case he'd forgotten how much grief he'd given her when the same set of circ.u.mstances had embraced him.

Denise noted that there was no hesitation on Zoe's part Having taken charge of the situation, she was behaving as if she'd encountered all this before. Keeping her own hands on Audra's shoulders in silent comfort, Denise longed to have someone rea.s.sure her. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she wanted someone to still the mounting fear she felt.

She was ashamed of herself for even fleetingly indulging in self-pity when her father needed her.

"What do you think is wrong?" Denise asked.

Zoe stepped back, her words stern, her smile silently encouraging both father and daughter. "Besides an overdose of stubbornness, I'd say your father might be on the verge of having a heart attack." Her smile faded into concern. "If he hasn't already had one."

"Nonsense, I'm fine." To prove it, Tate tried to sit up. It wasn't nearly as easy as it should have been. "I'd know if I were having a heart attack or not."

"Not necessarily." Jake placed a wide hand on the man's thin chest and gently restrained him. "You don't have to drop in your tracks to have a heart attack, Tate. Those little ones can really do a number on you without you knowing it. Sometimes, they just scamper right over you, taking away a piece at a time." Empathy rose in his eyes. "You look just the way I did just before I had mine." Even though five years had since pa.s.sed, right now it felt like yesterday. "When I got to the hospital, the doctor surprised me by saying that I'd already had a swarm of little attacks." He knew how important it felt to cling to the lie. Knew, too, what that could ultimately do to a man. "I thought it was indigestion, too."

That was all she had to hear. "You're going to see a doctor," Denise declared.

Jake nodded. "That'd be your best bet," he agreed, looking at Tate.

A cold and clammy feeling slid over Denise's heart, taking it hostage. She had an awful feeling that they were fighting against the clock. Denise turned toward Jake. He'd come through this, and he looked just fine now. No longer an optimist, she still held onto that comforting thought. "Where's the nearest hospital?"

"Oh, we don't have to go tonight," her father protested.

She knew he hated being fussed over. Too bad. "Tonight." The word sounded very nearly like an order. For good measure, she added, "Now." Denise was afraid she'd already allowed too much time to lapse.

"There's one in Serendipity," Will told her. When she looked at him, his heart twisted in his chest He doubted very much that she knew she looked like a frightened little girl. He wanted to take her into his arms, to comfort her, but there was no time for that. "I'll take you there," he added softly.

Denise would have rather just taken her father herself. This was a family matter. But with no transportation of her own, she was in no position to turn Will down.

Biting her lower lip, she looked at Audra, hesitating. Audra shouldn't have to be put through this.

Zoe was one step ahead of her.

"We'll take care of Audra," she promised.

But Audra suddenly looked uncertain about the state of affairs. "Mama?" Her eyes darted nervously toward her grandfather.

One look at the wide blue eyes and Will could feel the questions piling up in the child's head. Kneeling down to her level, he picked her up in his arms. "Your grandfather's going to be just fine, honey," Will solemnly told Audra.

She placed her small hands on either side of his face, as if she could feel if he was lying to her. "You promise?"

"I promise." There was nothing but conviction in his voice. Will knew this wasn't a time to hedge his bets and remain on the safe side the way he was wont to do. Audra needed a promise to hold on to, to comfort her. He glanced toward his brother. "Kent?"

"Way ahead of you, as usual, brother." Grinning at Audra, he took the little girl from Will.

Will turned his attention to Tate. "Can you walk?" he asked kindly.

The question rattled Tate's frail hold on his dignity. "Of course I can walk." He sat up in one movement. After a split-second delay, the room began to swim before him. He swayed, and grabbed the arm of the sofa.

Denise bit back a cry. Her father had turned completely white. She was at his side, determined to give him whatever support he needed to manage his exit despite her diminutive size.

"Lean on me," she urged.

"Been doing that for too long as it is," Tate murmured, but he offered no resistance when she took his arm and slung it over her shoulders.

The woman didn't have the sense she was supposed to have been born with, Will thought. Annoyed at her heroics, he was at Tate's other side immediately, helping the man to his feet and bearing up to most of the weight.

"You're going to strain something," Will told her sharply.

Denise bristled at the chastising. Was he going to tell her what to do even now?

"It's my something' to strain and my father," she snapped back.

Even in his present weakened state, Tate could feel the heat traveling between them. Refereeing, he tried to muster a smile.

"Why don't the two of you just get me to that doctor before I regain my strength and change my mind?"

Denise glared at Will. What was it about this man that brought out the worst in her? The look she flashed her father was contrite.

"Sorry, Dad," she murmured. Nothing was more important than getting her father to the doctor. She couldn't let anything else distract her. Not even Will.

Tate sighed. Even that hurt. "Not nearly as sorry as I am."

She looked pale and wan, Will thought, glancing toward Denise as he drove them home from the hospital. It had been a long night It was late now, and the countryside had retreated into the inside of an inkwell.

Her eyes closed, Denise was leaning her head back against the seat. He could easily guess what was going on in her mind right now. He'd been there himself not all that many years ago. Thinking about it only made the situation worse.

"He'll be all right, Denny."

Denny.

Her eyes moistened instantly at the sound of the nickname. She wanted to cry out and tell him that he had no right to call her that. That only her father could call her that.

But the words never came out Too many other words, too many other emotions got in the way. She felt so horribly confused. And so very afraid.

Denise pressed her lips together. She couldn't keep lashing out at Will. He was just trying to be helpful. And yet, when she opened her mouth, the words that seemed to find their way out were antagonistic. It was as if, if she didn't cling to her anger, she would fall completely apart.

"How do you know that?" she demanded of him. "What if-"

He knew where she was going with that. To a very dark, hollow place.

"Don't do that to yourself," he warned. "'What ifs' don't necessarily happen and there's no use torturing yourself over them. Just wasted effort all around." He could see by the set of her jaw that he wasn't getting through. He continued at it doggedly. "Doc Black's a good cardiologist. He treated my father. Back then, he was at St. Augustine's in b.u.t.te."

It had been a h.e.l.l of a drive there that night, Will thought Quint driving the van as if it were a sports car and the very wind was under its wheels, he and Kent in the back, holding on to their father between them. And their mother talking to Jake all the while as if this was just another Sunday drive. Morgan had met them at the hospital, as pale as Denise was now. Things like that shook you down to your very roots, made you aware of what was important in life and what wasn't.

He'd almost forgotten that lesson, he realized. Until today.

"He was one of the first doctors to sign on when Serendipity Memorial opened," Will told her, wondering if she was hearing any of this. He was desperately trying to keep her mind occupied.

She nodded absently. "It looks new. The hospital," she tagged on as an afterthought.

"That's because it is." The quarter moon hung above them in a perfect crescent, guiding him home. "It opened its doors June 1, 1996."

Denise sat up and looked at him. "You know the exact date?"

He grinned. He knew the exact date of all the buildings he'd had a hand in designing. Until he had one of flesh and blood, the buildings were like his children. "I should. I designed it."

Denise should have realized that by the way he knew his way around so well. She'd just a.s.sumed it was because he'd brought his father there.

"Nice work," she murmured. She shifted in her seat, feeling as if every bone in her body ached. No matter what she did, she just couldn't get comfortable tonight Not after leaving her father in that room, even though she knew it was the only right thing to do.

"Thanks, I try." Will read her restlessness correctly. "Denny, there are worse things to face than an angioplasty." His own father had had to have bypa.s.s surgery. Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw her frown. "As a matter of fact, your father's a lucky man."

He was lying in a strange bed in a strange hospital, waiting for a man whom he didn't know to make a hole in his thigh and snake a tube up into the chambers of his heart in the morning. And all of it was going to cost a fortune. A fortune they didn't have. She hardly saw that as being lucky.

"How do you figure that?"

She had to ask? Will thought. "He was diagnosed in time. In a couple of weeks, he'll be like a new man." He looked at her. "Really."

She merely nodded her head. Will was probably right. She really, really wished that she could believe in something again. That she could believe that every cloud in the sky had a silver lining and didn't just represent another thunderstorm.

Her mouth quirked. "I kind of like the old one."

The woman could probably find something to argue about in everything she came across. "Then he'll be that, except better." Will paused, knowing that she was probably going to hand his head to him for pushing. He pushed anyway. "Denise, what else is wrong?"

She tried to look nonchalant as she slanted a glance at him. "Else?"

She didn't do innocent very well, but maybe that was to her credit. Lying was never an admirable attribute. "There's something else eating away at you. What is it?"

"There's nothing else eating away at me," she snapped, then instantly felt guilty. She looked down at her hands rather than at his face. "I don't know how I'm going to pay for this."

So that was it Part of Will had thought that perhaps it had something to do with what happened between them earlier. Heaven knew, it was still on his mind. On his mind and weaving itself into a knot in the pit of his stomach. A knot he wasn't sure what he was going to do about.

But they were discussing her problem, not his.

"No insurance?"

Denise shook her head. It was always something she meant to look into, but had just never gotten around to it There had never been any money left over to splurge on that So she'd kept on playing the odds, hoping to win each hand.

"No nothing. Not even a nest egg to fall back on." Denise laughed shortly. It was either that, or bury her head in her hands, and she wasn't about to do that in front of anyone, least of all a man who had kissed her with a mouth hot enough to set off a forest fire. "All the eggs fell out of the nest a long time ago." She sighed, trying to rally. "I'll come up with something."

It sounded to Will as if she had a great deal of practice being creative. Eventually that had to get really difficult. "You always do?"

"Yeah, I always do." Denise glanced in his direction and saw the smile on his lips. Was he laughing at her? "What?"

"I was just thinking of your father." The road ahead of them forked. He took the right branch. "I thought, weak as he was, that he was going to have to be tied down to his bed when Doc Black said he had to stay in the hospital overnight and that he had to have surgery tomorrow."

She laughed softly to herself, picturing him. "He's a feisty soul when he has to be."

His eyes touched her lightly. A sliver of moonlight had made itself comfortable inside the car, caressing her face. "Must run in the family."

"Yes, it does," she said proudly. The ranch house was taking shape in the distance. "Well, there it is." She felt a twinge of guilt. "We'll be getting out of your hair soon. I'm sorry you have to drive all the way back to town."

The outskirts of town was where he lived, so driving back was no inconvenience to him. But he wasn't thinking of his home now. He was thinking of her. "I don't have to drive all the way back to town."

"What do you mean?" She wasn't following him.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was close to midnight. "It's late. Why don't you and Audra stay at the ranch for the night? Longer if you like. My folks have got plenty of rooms. I ought to know, I helped add them on."

She knew how to put together and dismantle the rides with her eyes shut, but to be responsible for erecting a permanent structure, now that was something to be proud of.

Though she believed that the less she knew about Will, the better it was for her, curiosity got the better of her. "How long have you been at this?"

He didn't even have to think. "Ever since I built my first fort at the age of six. I can't remember a time when I wasn't sketching plans and then trying to make them a reality."

Denise could hear the pride in his voice. "It must be nice, having a gift like that."

He brought the car to a stop before the house. "Everyone's got a gift, sometimes it just takes a while to find it."

She shook her head with a tinge of disgust. "I swear, you sound just like a greeting card."

If she thought to insult him, she missed her mark. "Nothing wrong with greeting cards."