His Holiday Family Read Free

pain reflected in his gaze. The feeling was familiar. Hadn’t her husband, Derek, blamed her for causing his stress that led to his heart attack? Shaking away the memory, Kathleen hung an IV drip on the pole and hooked up his line.
    â€œI’ll be fine.” The firefighter struggled to sit up. His eyes clouded, his face twisting into a frown.
    Kathleen rushed forward to restrain the patient’s movements. “You need to lie down.”
    â€œYou’re the lady with the boys. Ruth’s daughter.” He swung one leg to the floor.
    â€œYes.” Kathleen touched his left arm to stop him.
    He flinched but proceeded with putting his other leg on the tiles, pushing himself upright. With a moan, he sank to the floor. Kathleen caught him as he went down and lessened his impact with the tiles. Kneeling next to him, she supported his back with her arm.
    His head rested against the bottom of the bed. He fixed his weary gaze on her, pain dominating it. “I guess I’m not all right.”
    â€œLet’s get you back in bed. The doctor will be here soon.”
    â€œYeah, sure.” His eyes fluttered and closed.
    With her attention fastened on his face, Kathleen settled him on the floor and pressed the emergency call button.
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    â€œI thought you left here a couple of hours ago,” Mildred Wyman, the floor supervisor, said as Kathleen exited the elevator and walked toward the nurses’ station.
    â€œI did, but there was a fire at the Magnolia Street Apartments where my cousin lives.” She filled her in on the details. “When I came back to the hospital, Ashley recruited me to help until another nurse was able to come in. She just arrived so I wanted to see if Gideon O’Brien was settled into his room before I go home for sure this time.”
    â€œHe’s in room 345. He was asleep a little while ago.”
    â€œI’ll peek in. See if he’s up. If he needs anything.”
    Kathleen strolled toward the last room on the westwing’s third floor. The memory of the look on Gideon O’Brien’s face wouldn’t leave her thoughts. Clearly he’d been in pain but he tried to deny the seriousness of his injuries. If only she had known that Sally had taken the boys to the park, Gideon O’Brien wouldn’t be hurt.
    She rapped on the door. When she didn’t hear anything, she inched it open to see if he was still asleep. The dimly lit room beckoned her. She stepped inside and found him, lying on his bed, his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed.
    With the black smudges cleaned from his face, his features fit together into a pleasing picture. High cheekbones, the beginnings of a dark stubble, strong jaw. His features drew her forward until she stood by his side, watching him sleep. She could remember seeing him a couple of times jogging past her mother’s house when she had visited. When she’d told her mother who the injured firefighter was, her mom had said Gideon O’Brien had moved in down the street several years before.
    â€œHe sure is a handsome lad. Single, too.” Her mother’s words came back to taunt Kathleen. Before she’d had time to say goodbye to her sons so she could return to the hospital, her mother had ushered her out the door without further questions—which was unusual for her mom. Kathleen knew what was going through her mother’s mind. A nice young man would solve all of Kathleen’s problems. She would discourage her mother of that thought when she went back to pick up her sons.
    Her glance ran down Gideon’s length, categorizing his injuries. Two cracked ribs, wrapped but very painful, a broken arm above his left wrist, which would be set tomorrow, and an assortment of bruises. The doctorwas still concerned about internal bleeding and wanted to keep a close eye on him overnight.
    When her survey returned to his face, it connected with his gaze. Molten silver, framed by long, thick