Bold and Brave-Hearted Page 17

  A rocky point of land blocked the wind here, calming the air and smoothing the waves as they rolled against the shore. Sunlight glistened off the water making starbursts dance on the cresting waves. With each footstep, Kim sank into fine-grained sand.

  “I wish you could see this, Jay. It’s a beautiful day.”

  He pulled her around, tugging her closer, and cupped her face with his free hand. “Another couple of days and then I’ll drink in my fill of all I’ve been missing.”

  She knew he was talking about her, not the ocean view. “You might decide you’re better off keeping your blinders on.”

  “Not a chance.”

  They walked to the edge of the water where the sand was hard-packed then turned west along the curving bay. The gentle breeze toyed with her hair, flipping errant strands in front of her face. She curled them back behind her ears.

  “Wait a minute. There’s a shell.” Dashing forward a few feet, she knelt and dug into the sand, pulling up a perfect abalone half shell. The outside was rough, the inside as smooth as polished stone, the white alabaster glistening with a rainbow of colors.

  She brought the shell to Jay, holding it like an offering. “Feel. It’s flawless.”

  His big, strong hands enclosed both the shell and her own hands. He ran his thumbs across her wrists. “As smooth as glass but warmer. Absolutely flawless.”

  Heat sped to the pulse point he had caressed; her skin warmed. “I’ll keep it forever.”

  Dipping his head, he kissed her. His cool lips molded to hers, his tongue plunging inside as she opened for him. His taste was as elemental as the sea, as addictive as breathing. How could she walk away from this man she craved so deeply?

  How could she not?

  Aching with indecision, she slipped the shell into her jacket pocket. A precious memento of their day together.

  A CHILL FOG drove them from the beach in late afternoon following their picnic lunch. Puffing and panting, Kim made it back up the path to the road and decided she really needed to get into a fitness program. Sitting around reading news copy all day was not conducive to building muscle mass. In fact, the mass was probably settling in her thighs. Rockhard they weren’t.

  To her surprise, her sister Leanne’s BMW was parked outside Jay’s house when they got home, her willowy sibling just walking down the porch steps.

  After telling Jay they had company, Kim got out of the car and waved. “Hi, Leanne.”

  “Hi, midget. I was looking for you.”

  Kim winced at her old nickname. She couldn’t help it if Leanne got all the tall genes along with the brains in the family. “Is something wrong?” she asked when they met on the walkway.

  “Not that I know of.” Her gaze slid to Jay, who was getting out of the car.

  “Then mother sent you to check up on me?”

  Leanne lifted her slender shoulders. She had beautiful features she rarely exploited to best advantage—striking golden-blond hair she hid by pulling it back in a casual twist at her nape, high cheekbones that would benefit from a touch of color and a dynamite smile she camouflaged beneath a serious, academic demeanor.

  “She’s worried about you,” Leanne said.

  “More like she’s worried about what I do affecting her reputation in the academic community.”

  “Give her more credit than that, Kim. She may not have the most innate mothering instincts in the world, but she does love you.”

  “I know.” Though it did hurt from time to time to be the least-favored daughter.

  Jay joined them on the walkway. “Is this a family meeting or can anyone join in?”

  Kim introduced Jay to her sister, who extended her hand. When he didn’t respond, Leanne glanced at Kim, obviously embarrassed she hadn’t realized—or had forgotten—that Jay couldn’t see her, his wide aviator glasses a perfect disguise.

  “Mother sent her to check up on me,” Kim explained to Jay.

  Leanne recovered from her slip. “And to let you know she heard you were on KUCP last night. She wishes you’d told us so we could have listened.”

  “The opportunity came up suddenly. I was so busy organizing guests for the show, I didn’t think about letting anyone know.” Even now, she wasn’t sure her parents would care.

  “Kim was terrific,” Jay said. “That stripteaser she interviewed had me on the edge of the chair.”

  Leanne’s naturally arched brows rose. “Really?”

  Leaping in to avoid a misunderstanding, Kim said, “The show was about the lack of adequate funding for legitimate dance programs like the San Francisco Ballet.”

  “Oh. I was actually hoping you’d found a way to liven up KUCP’s programming.”

  “Maybe, if they hire me—”

  “Why don’t you come on inside, Leanne,” Jay suggested. “I’m sure we’ve got some beer in the fridge and I can cook up a mean pot of chili con carne right from the can.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’ve really got to get back to the lab. I’ve got a time-sensitive experiment going. I just wanted to see that everything was okay with my sister.”

  “Great. Drop by anytime,” Jay said. “I’ll leave you two alone and go wash off some of this sand I picked up at the beach.”

  As he walked up onto the porch, he brushed the back of his cutoffs with his hand.

  “Nice buns,” Leanne murmured appreciatively.

  It was Kim’s turn to raise her brows. “I didn’t think you ever noticed men.”

  “Oh, I notice all right. It’s just that they don’t give me and my scrawny figure a second glance.” When Jay vanished behind the closed door, she turned back to Kim. “Is he really blind? With those glasses, I didn’t realize—”

  “We’re hoping it’s temporary. He’ll know in a few days.”

  “What a tragedy if he doesn’t get his vision back. Are you and he serious?”

  Kim wasn’t sure how to answer Leanne’s question. She was very serious about Jay; she’d lost her heart to him years ago. But that didn’t mean they could make happily-ever-after come true or should even try. “Mother was appalled at the idea of me being involved with a firefighter.”

  “Maybe she just envies you. I know I do. He’s some kind of hunk.” She moved down the walkway toward her car. “Seems to me we’ve both spent a lot of years trying to please our parents.”

  Kim trailed behind her. “Something you’ve done more successfully than I have.”

  “Maybe. But it hasn’t always been easy. When the folks realized I was a genius, their expectations for me and my future shot through the roof. Not that I don’t love my job, mind you. There are just a lot of things I wanted to try but never had the chance.” Walking around to the driver’s side of the car, she unlocked it. “My gut feeling is you ought to please yourself and not worry about Mother. But let me know if you decide you don’t want him.”

  “Why?”

  With a dazzling grin, Leanne said, “A hunk like Jay is exactly what I’ve always wanted to try and never had the chance.”

  Despite Kim’s laughter, a quick stab of jealousy pierced her heart. Leanne had everything—brains, beauty she’d never had to utilize to get what she wanted and parental love. Kim damn well didn’t want to hand Jay over to her sister on a silver platter.

  But she wasn’t sure she could keep him either. Not once he got a good look at her.

  THE LONG-AWAITED phone call came the day of Jay’s appointment to have his patches removed and his eyes checked.

  As soon as Kim hung up, she launched herself into Jay’s arms. “That was Mr. Abbott. I got it, Jay. KUCP. He wants me to start next week. Oh, God, I was so afraid—”

  “The issue was never in doubt, sweetheart.” He whirled her around the room in his arms. “We’re going to have to celebrate big time tonight. You’ve got a job and I’m going to be able to see again.”

  “Yes, of course,” she whispered, her fears vanquishing her excitement, dread bubbling to the surface and nearly choking her.

  “You
sound nervous.”

  “Maybe a little. But stage fright is a good thing. Makes you sharp.” Although her anxiety had little to do with sitting in front of a microphone and more to do with seeing her image reflected in Jay’s eyes.

  Some time later, when they’d dressed for the doctor’s appointment, Jay said, “So how do I look?”

  “Very handsome, as always.” His vertically striped polo shirt tucked in at the waist of his pants emphasized his broad chest and lean hips. His hair was neatly combed, his face clean-shaven. Except for the dark patches covering his eyes, he could easily have stepped right out of one of those men’s casual-dress catalogues.

  “I know that. But I don’t want to open my eyes and find you switched all the clothes in my closet and I’m walking around in chartreuse pants and a purple shirt.”

  “Not likely,” she said with a tight laugh.

  He picked up his dark glasses from the end table and slipped them on, making Kim’s image spin in the reflective lenses. “Then I’m ready to go. You’ll be right there with me, won’t you? Forget my chartreuse pants. You’re the first thing I want to see when they take off these damn patches.”

  Panic whipped through her, her courage faltering. “I’m, uh, not sure they’ll let me into the examining room.”

  “I don’t see why not. But we’ll find out when we get there.”

  THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE was in a medical building near the hospital, a three-story glass and concrete structure. Kim cruised the lot until she found a spot to park. Jay took her arm and they went inside, riding the elevator to the top floor.

  “Hard to believe that on the way back I’ll be able to see where I’m going,” Jay said. “God, I hope I don’t fall all over my feet and break my neck. That’d be some kind of irony, wouldn’t it?” His anxiety radiated through her arm like an electric current.

  “You’ll be fine,” she assured him, though she wasn’t quite so confident about herself. And given his injuries, there was no guarantee he’d regain his sight. Fully restored vision was only one of a range of possibilities—the one she prayed for. Not for herself, but for him.

  Still self-conscious about her scars when meeting new people, she adjusted her scarf before opening the office door.

  Generic best described the decor—nondescript pictures on the walls, thinly padded chairs with straight arms and low backs, and a kiddie corner with a plastic basket filled with well-worn toys. A mother and a child about seven years old looked up as they entered. Kim led Jay to the chairs across from them.

  “There’s an empty chair a foot to your left. Sit down and I’ll sign you in.”

  Thankfully, Jay did as she’d asked. At the window counter, she leaned in towards the receptionist. “Mr. Tolliver is feeling a little anxious about the procedure today,” she whispered. “I think it might be better if I waited out here until after the examination is over.” Perhaps the extra few minutes would give her nerves enough time to settle down and unclog her throat.

  “Sure,” the receptionist said. “Whatever he wants.”

  Kim nodded her thanks. “And if you’d let me know before I go in with him if he can, uh, see or not, I’d appreciate it.”

  The receptionist shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Kim took a seat next to Jay, picked up a magazine, flipped through it, then set it aside. No way could she concentrate on an article about the drug cartel in South America.

  Jay’s foot tapped double-time to the beat of the piped-in elevator music. “Nerves are good, right?”

  She rested her hand on his arm, noting the way her fingers trembled. If there were a way to measure anxiety, both she and Jay would be off the Richter scale.

  When the nurse called Jay, they both jumped.

  “I’ll wait here for you,” Kim said. She needed to do this. Jay needed her. But she didn’t want her scars to be the very first thing he saw, she told herself.

  “No, I want you in the room—”

  “It’s better if she stays out here for now, Mr. Tolliver,” the nurse said smoothly. “We’ll call her when it’s time.”

  Tears pressing against the backs of her eyes, Kim gave him a quick kiss. “Go with her, Jay. The nurse will show you the way.”

  The door to the inner sanctum swung shut with a solid click like the closing of a cell door. Both she and Jay were locked in a prison of fate’s making through no fault of their own. In Jay’s prison, his vision and his independence were at stake; Kim’s jailers battered her already shaky self-esteem. Would either of them find a way to escape?

  She picked up another magazine, flipped through the pages. Nothing of interest caught her eye.

  “Why is that lady’s face so ugly?” the child across from her said in a stage whisper loud enough that it would have reached to the far corners of Carnegie Hall.

  Instinctively, her head snapped up. Embarrassed heat scorched her ugly face. Oh, God…

  “Hush, Jimmy,” his mother admonished. She gave Kim an apologetic look. “You’re not supposed to say things like that.”

  “But it’s tru—oo,” the boy complained, pulling his face into a pout. “She’s got—”

  “I’m going to tan your hide if you don’t hush this minute. Do you hear me, James Derby?”

  “Please don’t,” Kim said, aghast that she’d be the cause of a child being spanked when he was only saying what other people thought and were too polite to say.

  She was ugly. She’d confronted that reality in the mirror every day for months. Only with Jay had she ignored the truth, feeling beautiful again. A woman worthy of a man’s love. Not a caricature of a clown.

  When they removed Jay’s patches—even if he retained only limited vision—he would see that truth, too. Dear God, she couldn’t bear that.

  “I’VE DIMMED the lights,” the doctor said as Jay sat rigidly in the examination chair. “When I remove the dressing, I want you to open your eyes slowly. It will take a little while for your eyes to adjust to the light. Then I want you to tell me what you see.”

  Jay closed his hands around the ends of the armrests. His mouth was as dry as the Sahara, his heart hammering like a loose cylinder in his chest. God, he wished Kim were here. He needed to hold on to her.

  In desperation, he conjured up an image of her in high school, tossing her blond hair away from her face as she flirted with one of the jocks that crowded around her. Her eyes sparkled like the sun slanting off the lupines in spring, turning the hillsides a vibrant blue so deep it was almost purple. Her radiant smile lit up the room.

  Why hadn’t he tried to get to know her better then? Somewhere he could have found the time and money to take her out, at least for a cola. Why had he waited so long just dreaming of her?

  Because he’d never felt worthy of her.

  The doctor peeled back the gauze. Jay’s eye lids remained stuck together as if they’d been glued that way—or maybe he was too damn scared to open them. The doctor daubed something that was cold and smelled of antiseptic on his closed eyelids.

  “That ought to do it,” the doctor assured him. “Open slowly now.”

  With a force of will, Jay commanded his eyelids to open. Light! Bright! Painfully penetrating. He squinted his eyes closed again.

  “You saw something?” the doctor asked.

  “It’s awful bright in here, Doc.”

  “Try it again. Keep your eyes open a little longer this time.”

  Jay did as ordered. Shapes began to form. The doctor’s silhouette sitting in front of him. Eye-testing machinery to Jay’s left, a red light glowing on the wall behind the counter to his right.

  A combination of excitement, hope and relief rose in him like a tidal surge. “I can see shapes.”

  “That’s good. Let’s try with a little more light.”

  Jay squinted again as the doctor brought up the lights, but slowly, details came into focus. The doctor was younger than he had thought and wore a tidy beard and mustache. The small room was shaped like a truncated slice of pie with the rea
ding chart at the narrow end. Even in the shadows he could make out the first three rows of letters. A nurse who’d been in and out of the room a couple of times was standing by the door.

  “Can we get my girlfriend in here now? I want to—”

  “We have a little testing to do first, and then she can come in. It will only take a few minutes.”

  The nurse opened the door to the hallway, admitting a stunning column of light, then closed it behind her.

  IN A PANIC, Kim rose to her feet. The nurse who had escorted Jay to the back room was by the receptionist.

  “Nurse? Mr. Tolliver—has the doctor removed his patches yet?”

  “Yes.” The young woman in white beamed her smile. “His vision seems quite good. Mr. Tolliver is anxious to see you, but the doctor has a few more tests to run.”

  Kim exhaled in relief for Jay. He would be able to see. He wouldn’t need anyone to lead him around, drive him where he wanted to go. He’d no longer need her.

  She looked around the office for a frantic moment, seeking some way of escape. A way to avoid Jay seeing her. It might be cowardly to leave when she’d promised to stay. Cold. Unfeeling. But she simply couldn’t stay when she knew exactly what she’d see in Jay’s eyes the first time he looked at her.

  That she was ugly, a woman to be pitied.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the receptionist. Guilt and regret mixed into a knot in Kim’s stomach. “When Mr. Tolliver completes his examination, could you tell him I was called away? Something about my new job,” she ad-libbed. “And then could you call him a cab?”

  “Sure, if you want.” The receptionist looked at her curiously. “Say, do I know you from somewhere?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” The woman the receptionist recognized had vanished amid the rubble left by the earthquake. Kim was an entirely different person now. An ugly, cowardly woman who didn’t deserve to be loved by a man like Jay.

  JAY’S REMAINING TESTS took an eternity, or so it seemed to him. His eyes were measured in every conceivable way and the verdict was all Jay had hoped for.

  “You’re a fortunate man,” the doctor said as he slid the examining equipment out of Jay’s way. “Your retinas are completely intact, no scarring that I can observe and your vision is back to twenty-twenty. You’ll want to wear dark glasses for a couple of days while your eyes get fully accustomed to the light again. Other than that, I recommend you not give away your helmet next time.”