morning like a drill sergeant, but sheâd found a spare moment to make a quick call.
âCarol Franklin was on duty and she told me Rowdy had just come out of surgery.â
âAnd?â
âAnd heâs doing as well as can be expected.â
âI thought it might be a good idea if one of us checked up on him later,â David Bloomfield said under his breath. âIâll tell Valerie and Colby about the accident myself, after the reception. Iâm sure theyâll want to see him, too.â
âIâll check on him,â Norah offered with an eagerness she didnât fully understand.
Her father nodded and pressed a car key into the palm of her gloved hand. âSteal away when you can. If anyone asks where you are, Iâll make up some excuse.â
He moved off before Norah could question him. Her father seemed to assume sheâd want to leave the social event of the year, her own sisterâs wedding, to visit a stranger at the hospital.
And he was right! Without knowing it, sheâd been looking for an excuse, a means of doing exactly what her father had suggested. It was the reason she found herself so impatient, so restless; she realized that now. Something inside her was calling her back to the hospital. Back to Rowdy Cassidyâs bedside.
There was a small break in the wedding festivities between the dinner and the dance. The staff was clearing off the tables and the musicians were tuning up. There should be just enough time for her to leave without anyone noticing.
Her father caught her eye, and he seemed to be thinking the same thing because he nodded in her direction.
Driving was an exercise in patience with all the layers of taffeta, but Norah managed, although she was sure she made quite a sight.
The hospital was quiet and peaceful when she arrived. If people thought it unusual that she was strolling inside wearing a floor-length rose gown, long white gloves and a broad-brimmed straw hat with a band of ribbon cascading down her back, they said nothing.
âWhat room did they put Rowdy Cassidy in?â she asked at the information desk.
âTwo fifteen,â Janice Wilson told her, after glancing at her computer screen. It was obvious that Janice wanted to ask a few questions about Valerie and the wedding, but Norah skillfully sidestepped them and hurried down the main hospital corridor.
When she got to his floor, she went directly into his room. Standing in the doorway, Norah let her eyes adjust to the dim light.
Rowdyâs right leg was suspended in the air with a pulley. His face was turned toward the wall. Norah walked farther into the room and reached for his medical chart, which was attached to the foot of his bed. She was reading over the notations when she sensed that he was awake. He hadnât made the slightest noise or done anything to indicate he was conscious.
Yet she knew.
Norah moved to the side of his bed, careful not to startle him.
âHello,â she said softly.
His eyes fluttered open.
âWould you like a sip of water?â she asked.
âPlease.â
She picked up the glass and straw, positioning it at the corner of his mouth. He drank thirstily, and when he finished, raised his eyes to her.
âAm I dead?â
âNo,â she answered, with a reassuring smile. Obviously the medication was continuing to block out the pain, otherwise heâd know exactly how alive he was.
âShould be,â he whispered, as though speaking demanded a real effort.
âYouâre a very lucky man, Mr. Cassidy.â
He attempted a grin but didnât quite succeed. âWho are you, my fairy godmother?â
âNot quite. Iâm Norah Bloomfield, Valerieâs sister. And Iâm a nurse. I was on call when they brought you in last night.â
âUnusual uniform.â
Once again Norah found herself smiling. âI was in my sisterâs wedding this afternoon.â
If she hadnât
R. K. Ryals, Melanie Bruce