Bold and Brave-Hearted Read online

  “Are you in any pain? Is there something I can get for you while we’re waiting?”

  “I’m fine. Just ducky.”

  She hated the way he got so flippant about his injuries, put up such a damn brave front, when she knew he must be scared to death. At least an ordinary mortal would be frightened. Jay wanted to be immune to the weaknesses of the flesh. But she didn’t buy the act. He was too smart a man not to know his vision was in jeopardy from this new assault on his eyes. If only he hadn’t been so determined to—

  The curtain on the cubicle swept back with a whoosh of fabric. “Mr. Tolliver?”

  “That’s me.”

  “Dr. Muramic here. I’m going to have you moved to a different examination room where I can control the light. Your wife can come with you.”

  The doctor, an angular woman close to six feet tall, swept out of the room with as much energy as she had entered. There wasn’t time to correct her assumption about Kim’s relationship to Jay. Nor did Kim particularly want to.

  She planned to stick right with him through whatever examination Dr. Muramic had in mind.

  Jay had once saved her life. And Kim knew, although Jay would be the last person to admit it, that he didn’t want to be alone now. Because in the unusual pallor of his skin, she recognized his fear—just as he’d seen hers four months ago.

  WITH BRUSQUE professionalism, Dr. Muramic made quick work of the examination, applied drops to Jay’s eyes and covered his eyes with sterile bandages instead of the patches. She shoved her chair back from her patient and addressed Kim.

  “I’m going to prescribe eye drops every three hours around the clock for three days. Given the initial injury to his corneas and now a further assault on his eyes, I’m very concerned about the possibility of infection.”

  “Are the corneas healing?” Jay asked.

  “It’s extremely difficult to tell, Mr. Tolliver, given the current inflammation. It would have been wiser to keep your head out of the dirt.”

  His hand flexed around Kim’s. “Now why didn’t I think of that?” he muttered.

  “From now on I want you to take it easy. No vigorous exercise, lots of rest.” The doctor turned to Kim. “Are you squeamish about giving eye drops, Mrs. Tolliver?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “I can do it on my own.”

  “Nonsense. You can’t see to fill the eye dropper.” The doctor scribbled out a prescription and handed it to Kim. “You can take this to the pharmacy in the lobby, they’ll fill it for you. And have Mr. Tolliver see his regular ophthalmologist at the end of the week.” With that, she marched out of the examining room.

  “What’s the matter with that woman? She was treating me like a damn kid. I can take care of myself.”

  “Not this time, buster.”

  “What are you going to do? Drive down to my place every three hours just to give me some stupid eye drops? That’s ridiculous.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Which is why, unless you can think of somebody you’d rather have hanging around, I’m going to be your roommate for the next three days.” And nights, she thought, with an unnerving spark of awareness.

  Chapter Eight

  Nighttime was the hardest. The dreams. Fighting off his fears.

  As a kid, Jay had always had a night light. It kept the encroaching darkness at bay, tamed the shadowy monsters the street lights cast through his bedroom window, silenced the moan of the wind and creaking floor boards.

  Now, as he lay in bed staring sightlessly at the ceiling, there was only blackness and a fear that had nothing to do with his imagination. Blindness—permanent blindness was a real possibility.

  Kim had brought him home from the hospital, then gone to her place to pack a bag. She’d returned with Chinese takeout, which they’d eaten while watching “Sixty Minutes” on a big TV screen that might as well have been a giant boom box for all it mattered to him.

  Across the hall he could hear her shifting restlessly on the narrow bed in the spare bedroom, the mattress so old it sagged in the middle, the springs squeaking. She’d be more comfortable here, with him. And he had no right to ask her. No right to want the scent of her on his sheets, her head pillowed next to his. Their two bodies sated yet still joined together.

  In the distance, he heard the sparse traffic on Paseo Boulevard and the bleat of Engine 61’s horn as it rolled out of the station house. He pictured Paulson, the driver on C shift, hitting the siren and the engine racing north in response to a call for help. Jay listened intently, trying to gauge the distance until he could no longer hear the siren wailing.

  “Are you awake?”

  She was standing at his bedroom door. He imagined her backlit by the hallway light, her body silhouetted through a sheer gown—the curve of her hips, her narrow waist, the swell of her breasts outlined in seductive detail.

  “Yeah, I’m awake.” And aroused, the blanket tenting over the evidence of his body’s reaction to that which only his mind’s eye could see.

  “Time for more drops.”

  “You aren’t going to get much sleep if you have to keep waking up every three hours.” Neither was he, waiting for her. Wanting her.

  “I suppose, given enough time, we could train Cat to do this. But by then, you won’t need them any more.” The bed tilted as she sat down on the edge. “Hang your head over the side for me.”

  He adjusted his position. “I really think I could handle drops myself.”

  “But then I’d miss all the fun, wouldn’t I?”

  She lifted the dressing from his right eye. There was light, blurry as if he were inside a cloud, and all he could see was her shadowed shape. He swallowed convulsively as fear rose in his throat. With a force of will, he concentrated on her clean, fresh scent. Like springtime. If he never saw flowers again, never caught her fragrance again, he’d always remember this moment.

  When she finished attending to both eyes, he shifted his head back to his pillow. “I guess I’m not a very good patient.”

  Her hand was cool on his forehead, stroking his hair. “You’re fine. Try to get some sleep now.”

  He desperately didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want to be alone in the dark. “There’s a reason why I’m such a lousy patient.”

  “Because you’re a man?” There was a smile in her voice.

  “No. Because of my mother.” She met his words with quiet patience, not prodding but simply waiting for him to continue. “Among her assorted disabilities, she was a diabetic. She was scared to death she’d end up blind. The irony is, with all her troubles, she never lost her sight. I’m the one who’s blind.”

  “Temporarily.”

  In the stillness of the night, in the quiet intimacy of his bedroom, it seemed easier to confess his fears than it was in the daylight, even if he couldn’t see the difference. And in the darkness it was also impossible to pretend, to hide those fears any longer.

  To disguise his terror that his blindness could be permanent.

  “I’m scared, Kim. More afraid than I’ve ever been in a fire worrying about a roof collapsing or a flashover. I’m scared I won’t ever be able to find my way out of this one.”

  “Of course you’re afraid. Who wouldn’t be? But you have to believe, Jay. Believe that you’ll get your vision back, that you’ll be fine. You aren’t the kind of man who gives up.” She rested her palm on his chest. “You’re a man with heart.”

  He covered her hand with his, her fingers slender, her skin soft.

  Something in the smoky quality of her voice persuaded him to trust her, to believe. He knew that was part of her success as a news anchorwoman. The viewers never doubted what she said was true. She knew. And everyone who heard her believed exactly what she told them.

  “God, you should have been a preacher.”

  She chuckled, low and husky, a little startled by his remark. “Why would you say a thing like that?”

  “Because if you told me I could walk on water, I’d damn well try.” />
  “You can, Jay Tolliver. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been able to do anything you wanted to.”

  “And you still won’t go scuba diving with me?”

  “Walking on water is a whole lot different than thrashing around under it. I’ll leave that pleasure to you.”

  He felt the gentle touch of her lips on his, a sweet caress that promised a fire storm of passion. Everything she did, she did wholeheartedly—from reigning as prom queen to achieving success in the cutthroat broadcasting business. He wanted the pleasure of her passion, hungered for the fervor he knew she would bring to their lovemaking. Wanted to give her pleasure, too.

  He speared his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer, deepening their kiss. Tasting her, he savored her unique flavor, the sweetness of mint and feminine heat. He’d been on the brink of arousal all evening and now the ache was pure torture.

  “Kim, I want—” His breath came in agonizing gulps, burning his lungs. Barely able to speak, he covered her face with kisses. “Ah, blue eyes…You are so—”

  “No. Don’t say it.” Kim pressed her hand against his chest, feeling his heart beat even faster than her own. “We can’t do this. I can’t. Not when—” Not when he was so vulnerable, needing reassurance that despite his blindness—temporary or permanent—he was still a man. Not when he still imagined her as she had been months or years ago, before her face had been ripped open. Not when her career had gone up in smoke, a victim of the same earthquake that had scarred her. “If you’re going to get well, you need your rest.”

  He tensed, his fingers still snared in her hair. “You’re right, it’s probably not a good time.”

  Heart aching, she slipped from his embrace. Her lips throbbed with his kisses and wanted more. “I’ll be back in three hours.”

  In the light from the hallway, she saw the tightening around his lips, the frown drawing his brows together. “Sure. I’ll be here. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  She stumbled from his room. She didn’t dare let Jay know how much she wanted him to hold her, love her. If he could see her, he wouldn’t question her refusal. Not for a minute. Instead he’d be repulsed. Or worse, he’d pity her. She wouldn’t be able to stand that.

  Crawling into the narrow bed, she shivered and pulled the musty-smelling covers up over her. For two more days she’d have to keep Jay at arms’ length. Then she’d leave, return to the quiet isolation of her house.

  And to the desperate loneliness that had begun to seep into her bones.

  She balled her hands into fists and gritted her teeth.

  No, she couldn’t give up. For years her competitive spirit had driven her to succeed in one of the world’s most difficult businesses. To lose all she had achieved simply because the world shook for thirty seconds went against the grain.

  Somehow she’d find a job that would make use of the talents she had honed since the eighth grade when she’d read the morning announcements over the loudspeaker system at Dana Junior High. She might not ever make it to anchorwoman of a network show, but that didn’t mean she had to crawl into a hole.

  JAY DIDN’T usually eavesdrop, but Kim had been on the phone most of the morning and his curiosity was getting the better of him. Besides, he didn’t have much else to do these days except listen. In fact, last night he should have listened instead of opening his big mouth about how scared he was. No woman wanted a man who was as frightened of the dark as a six-year-old kid.

  Leaning against the doorjamb, he pictured her at the kitchen table, the curly phone cord stretching from the wall to the table. He wondered what she was wearing—maybe jeans and tennis shoes because she didn’t make much noise when she walked. Denim suited her just fine but he liked her in silk even better—soft and clinging to her curves.

  But most of all, he’d like to see her with nothing on whatsoever.

  She hung up and evidently spotted him standing by the door. “Did you want something?” she asked, her cultured tone perfect for a TV announcer, an easy-to-listen-to voice that triggered a man’s most erotic thoughts.

  Jay wanted lots of things, most of which he couldn’t have or didn’t have the right to ask for. “Just wondering what’s going on. You’ve been on the phone a long time.”

  “Sorry. I’m probably running up a huge longdistance bill, too. I’ll pay you back—”

  “I’m not worried about that. I was just—” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “It’s probably none of my business anyway. You go ahead with whatever you’re doing. I’ll just, ah, go wash my car. Maybe I’ll take a drive later.” He turned to leave.

  “I’m job hunting.”

  His heart in his throat, he whirled back. “You’re leaving Paseo del Real?”

  “KPRX-TV fired me.”

  “That’s outrageous. They can’t do that to you! Why, your news show is the most popular one in the whole county. Your ratings are better than the network programs. They’d be fools to let you go.”

  “According to the letter I got Saturday when I got home from the pancake breakfast, my personal services contract has been terminated, effective immediately.”

  Jay found his way across the room and sat down at the table next to her. “Why did they do a stupid thing like that?”

  “Probably because they didn’t think the viewers would enjoy seeing closeups of ugly red scars on somebody’s face.” She tried to keep her tone light but Jay could hear the brittle hurt in her voice.

  “That stinks. It was their own damn building that fell down on you. If they’d retrofitted the place sooner—”

  “But they didn’t. And now, unless some miracle happens, I’ll never have another on-camera job.”

  “You can sue them. They can’t get away with—”

  “Do you know how long they could drag out a suit? And even if I won, it wouldn’t change the fact that I’m ugly. A judge wouldn’t force them to hire me.”

  Instinctively, he reached out to her, caressing her injured face with the fingertips of one hand. To him, whatever scars she had were invisible and they always would be—even if he got his sight back. “Sometimes scars take a long time to heal completely. A few more months—”

  “I can’t believe much is going to change after all this time.”

  “Maybe a new doctor.”

  “Actually, I’ve got an appointment tomorrow in Santa Barbara. A new specialist my mother tracked down.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “What if you’re delayed and it’s time for my eye drops? Cat isn’t ready to handle the job yet, and you know I can’t do it for myself.”

  Her cheek moved under his fingertips and he knew she was smiling. “I suppose you’ll insist upon driving, too?”

  “With anyone else, I would. But I trust you not to get us into an accident.”

  She cradled her face more fully in his hand as if the warmth of his palm soothed her. “I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

  When, after a moment, she pulled away, Jay thought he’d lost something precious, like a beautiful butterfly who’d briefly landed on his hand only to take flight again.

  “So who have you been calling?” he asked.

  “Virtually everyone I graduated with who stayed in the business. Some of them have been quite successful, both with networks and independents. I thought I’d better get the word out I’m in the market for a new job.”

  A job that would take her far from Paseo del Real and Jay. With an effort, he swallowed the bitter taste of regret. “What will you do if you’re not…what did you call it? On-camera?”

  “Hmm, I’m really good at writing scripts. That’s how I got started. I think I’m experienced enough to be a floor director or even produce a show, though I’m not sure anyone would give me a shot at that. Certainly I could arrange guests for talk shows, grunge work like that.”

  “But you’d rather be the star.”

  “I grew up wanting to be Walter Cronkite,
but that doesn’t appear to be one of my choices.”

  “Thank God,” he murmured and she laughed, which was exactly what he’d hoped she would do.

  He left her to make her phone calls and went outside, although she admonished him not to go far. It was almost time for his next dose of eye drops.

  Standing on the walkway in front of his house, he absorbed the heat of the noon sun he could feel but not see. He listened to a bird call, the flight of the bird invisible to him. He knew a neighbor across the street was mowing his grass, both from the scent of freshly cut grass and from the sound, but he didn’t know which neighbor was doing his yard work.

  He cursed both his blindness and his stupidity for putting his eyesight at even greater risk by playing in the dirt. But most of all, he cursed the fact he couldn’t promise to take care of Kim for the rest of her life, promise that she’d never need to work again, that she could rely on him for all of her needs.

  And even as those thoughts formed in his head, he knew Kim wasn’t that sort of woman. She’d always depend first on herself, no matter who she loved. He just wished he was worthy of being that man.

  If it would make a difference, he’d damn well read every book about Saddam Hussein he could get his hands on and take up oil painting on the side. But chances were good he’d only get a gooey mess for his efforts and a splitting headache.

  THE RAIN started early the next morning and the sky was leaden for the trip to Santa Barbara, an omen of things to come, Kim feared.

  She’d taken the main highway that cut through rolling cattle country to the coastline rather than the winding pass over the mountains, which was more scenic and more of a challenge to drive. But that route could be treacherous when the road was wet.

  She found the medical building near the hospital and pulled into a parking space, switching off the engine.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to be bored to tears waiting for me in the doctor’s office,” she told Jay as they both got out of the car.

  “Don’t worry about it. He’s bound to have great girlie magazines I can check out.”