Dangerous Intentions Page 3

  She cried until the tears dried up, then washed her face and tried to get the redness out of her eyes with a cold paper towel.

  “Hey,” Nurse Bethie Brighton said, stepping into the small restroom. “You okay? Saw you come in here and not come out.”

  “Sometimes they get to me,” Shelly admitted.

  The nurse nodded. “Yeah, me too. Who’s the GI?”

  Shelly sniffled and wiped the moisture from her face. “A patient of mine who needed a wakeup call. I could probably lose my job for what I just did, but…” She shrugged.

  Bethie laid a hand on her shoulder. “He’s still in there talking with Babs and Charlie.”

  “Great. Hope he doesn’t teach them any of his lovely language.”

  The nurse laughed. “When I headed in here, they were piling his lap with books they wanted him to read to them.”

  Shelly gave a shaky smile and sighed. “Well. He’ll either shape up or really take it out on me later.”

  “You know you don’t have to put up with abuse from patients. Hospital policy.”

  “Says the one who works with kids.” Shelly laughed in earnest. “Come down to the therapy room any day to see what abuse is. And I can’t even blame most of them. Dex is just a…special case.”

  “He’s pretty cute, too,” Bethie said with a wink.

  Shelly raised an eyebrow. “Well, he’s not your patient. Maybe he’d mellow out if he got laid.”

  The nurse’s eyes widened, then she laughed loud. “If he sticks around till my shift’s over, I just might see if he needs a little extra care.”

  Shelly ignored the pang of jealousy that streaked through her at the thought of the pretty, busty blonde getting it on with Dex. “Just watch out. He’s got one hell of a bark.”

  “Ohhh, do you think he bites?” she asked as she shoved the door open with another laugh.

  No, she thought, but he kisses like a god.

  Chapter Three

  By the time four-thirty rolled around, Shelly had never been so ready to get out of the hospital. The afternoon hadn’t been as bad as the morning, but the emotional drain of the crying jag had taken its toll, and she just wanted to go home, take a long hot bath, and curl up with a trashy romance in her cozy bed.

  The snow had started around two, and all three of her afternoon appointments had called to cancel, so she’d taken the time to catch up on the paperwork she’d been putting off for weeks. Then she spent the last half hour with Babs, Charlie, and Neil.

  It was dark out already, and giant snowflakes tumbled from the sky glowing orange from the lights in the parking lot. Standing inside the main entrance of the hospital, she pulled on her stocking cap and gloves, and zipped up her down jacket. At least the wind hadn’t started yet, though it was predicted before morning.

  She stepped through the doors and into the nighttime wonderland. She loved the silence of heavy snowfall. The air was chilly, but not as cold as it had been that morning. And the tension bundled in the back of her neck and shoulders was gone. Maybe that crying jag was just what she’d needed. It’d been a while since she let it go. She stepped off the curb into a good two inches of fresh white fluff and tilted her head back to let the soft puffs of snow land on her cheeks.

  “Doctor Newman?”

  She yelped and swung around at the deep voice. Pete Dexler sat in his wheelchair under the awning the staff called Smoker’s Corner. Dex wasn’t smoking though. He sat there bundled up under a heavy coat, hat, scarf and black leather gloves.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you…again.”

  “What are you still doing out here?” she asked, embarrassed she’d been caught at a vulnerable moment.

  “Waiting for my cab.”

  She looked at the snow covering the parking lot and shook her head. “Bill’s not going to be out driving in this. He never leaves his driveway if there’s more than a half inch.” The town had one taxi, privately owned by a retired school bus driver, who worked when he felt like working.

  “I kind of figured that since I’ve been here for over a half hour.”

  She couldn’t let him sit there all night. “I’ll give you a lift. I’ve got a truck,” she added when she saw what looked like an expression of doubt cross his face. “I grew up in the Midwest. I know how to drive in a couple inches of fluff. This ain’t nothin’.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate it,” he said, but didn’t sound too happy about realizing she was probably his only hope of getting home unless he called someone else.

  “Stay here. I’ll bring it around.” She headed across the parking lot in the heavily falling snow to her old, mud brown Bronco II. She’d been driving it since college, and she loved the little thing. After starting the engine to give it a moment to warm up, she grabbed her snowbrush off the passenger side floorboard and swept off the car.

  It took a couple more minutes for the windshield to defrost before she could take it around to the loading zone by the front door and help Dex into the truck. She then folded his chair and stuck it in the back seat.

  “Buckled in?” she asked when she got behind the wheel again.

  “Yes.”

  She snapped her seatbelt into place and put the car in gear. “Where do you live?”

  “521 Maple.”

  Hmm. Just a couple of blocks from her place. Although, that wasn’t too surprising, since the “downtown core” of Cooper Valley was about eight blocks square. Most of the ten thousand residents lived in the outlying areas on farms or by the lake. The hospital was the biggest thing in town, and that was because a few very wealthy retired people had settled in the area. Old rich people wanted nearby medical services, even if they had to pay to have them built.

  “Mind if we stop off at The Ranch House?” Dex asked.

  “Uh. Sure.” She slowed her truck as she approached one of three intersections in town with a traffic light. She really just wanted to go home. Dex lived alone, though, so maybe he stopped off for dinner often. She turned right onto Cooper Valley Way—the town was so original in its street names—and then turned into the almost empty parking lot of the town’s most popular restaurant, which was actually a pub by any other city’s standards. She loved the food there, some of the best she’d ever had, and she’d spent eight years in Chicago.

  “You want me to run in and get you something?” she asked hopefully. That bath sounded better and better by the second. The heater in the truck wasn’t that great, and a chill was beginning to settle in on her.

  “Actually…” Dex turned toward her. In the barely lit parking lot, she couldn’t really see his expression. He reached up and adjusted his stocking cap. “Would you let me buy you dinner?”

  “Ahh… I don’t…”

  “Please?”

  Wow. The man said please.

  “As a thank you for taking me home tonight, and…as an apology.” He glanced away, out the front window, then back. He blew out a quick breath. “I’m not too good at this. But I am sorry. For…fuck. Everything. You were right. I’ve been acting like a bastard.”

  She raised an eyebrow, and he ducked his head, but not before she saw the smallest, sweetest little smile.

  “Okay, I’ve been a total and complete jackass since the day I met you. I get that now.” He looked back up at her. “Let me buy you dinner so we can start over? Maybe…I don’t know.”

  “You can stop fumbling now,” she said, cutting off his very painful babbling. “Apology accepted if this really is a fresh start, and you’re going to start listening to doctor’s orders.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. But I’m ordering a steak. It’s been a painful couple of months.”

  He chuckled, and the warmth of it sent a tingle down her spine. “Deal.”

  She stared at him for a moment. She’d never seen him so open and honest. A real smile, and that gentleness she’d seen itty-bitty hints of. Pulling herself away from his piercing gaze, she turned off the truck and got out so she could get his wheelchair out of t
he back.

  The pub was almost empty. Only a couple hardy souls sat at the bar with their pints in hand. The same regulars she would swear were there every single time she came in after work.

  “Hey, Dex,” the lone waitress said, coming their way as they moved toward an empty table near the fireplace built into the far wall.

  “Hey, Corinne. How’s it going?” he asked.

  His tone was light, almost flirtatious, which surprised Shelly. But she supposed she shouldn’t be. Corinne was a pretty, young woman. A local girl. And Shelly was just his doctor.

  “Good! Real good. You want your regular tonight?”

  “Why don’t you leave the menus?” he suggested as Corinne moved a chair away from one side of the table so he could roll right up to it.

  “No problem. Hi,” she added absently when she turned around and almost bumped into Shelly.

  “Hi.” Talk about feeling like the ugly duckling. Shelly peeled off her winter jacket and accessories and piled them on the seat next to her while Dex did the same. She tucked the flyaways that had escaped her bun behind her ears and wondered just how bad she looked. “Guess you’re a regular here, huh?” she asked as she picked up her menu.

  “Not much of a cook. If I want something that’s not frozen or out of a can, this is about my only choice in town.”

  “Cooper Valley Sub Shop has good sandwiches. And the deli counter at the grocery store makes awesome rotisserie chicken and potato salad.” She glanced through the menu choices, but already knew what she wanted. Especially with someone else footing the bill.

  “I guess you eat alone a lot, too?”

  She lowered the menu and nodded. “Guilty. Totally single. Not even a dog.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why no dog?”

  She frowned. “Good question. Guess I haven’t met the puppy of my heart yet. I got a cat when I first moved here but found out I was allergic and had to give her away.”

  The perky Corinne returned with two glasses of ice water with lemon slices on the edge. “You guys ready to order, or do you want something to drink to start?”

  Dex motioned for Shelly to go first.

  “Chamomile tea, please. And I’ll take the six ounce New York strip sandwich, medium rare, with fries and a green salad with ranch on the side.”

  “It’s an apology dinner,” Dex said with a half smile that curled up the left side of his lips and made him look much younger than his almost forty years. “I’d fork out the money if you wanted the rib eye.”

  Shelly chuckled and shook her head, wishing his smiles didn’t have the affect on her they did. “New York’s fine. Thanks.”

  “No wine? Beer? Mixed drink?” Dex prompted.

  She shook her head. “Just the tea.”

  He turned his attention to Corinne. “I’ll take the same as Dr. Newman, except I’d like the Caesar salad instead of green. And I’d like a domestic on tap.” He looked back toward Shelly. “Is that okay?”

  She wrinkled her brow at him. “Yeah. Why?” she asked, confused.

  He nodded toward Corinne, and she left after picking up the menus. “I didn’t know if you had anything against consuming alcohol. I am enough of a gentleman not to offend a lady I’m taking to supper.”

  “But it’s okay to offend me in the therapy room.” She grinned and held up her hand when he looked as if he might apologize again. “I just don’t drink much. I like a beer now and then, and a hot toddy or spiced rum around the holidays, but I’m just not a drinker. Wine gives me headaches.”

  “And the chamomile tea? You’re not a health nut, since you ordered red meat and some of the greasiest fries I’ve ever had.”

  “Not a health nut at all. It’s just been a long, rather trying day, and chamomile is good for mellowing me out…as much as an alcoholic drink would.”

  He wrapped his hands around his water glass and looked at it. “This is not an excuse for my behavior, but it dawned on me that if my dad knew how I’d treated you—a woman and a professional—he’d tan my hide even at my age.” Looking up, his eyes held that vulnerability she found so endearing. “I’m not good at not having control.”

  “I understand that,” she said softly. “You’re not the first person to come into my office with a chip on their shoulder.”

  He shook his head, clenched his jaw. “I thought, since the doctors didn’t think the damage was permanent, that I’d go through a little rehab, get back to normal, and head back to my men where I belong. But I needed more than a little rehab, so I made the decision to take the medical discharge they offered.” He looked away, stared off into space for a moment, and Shelly could see how hard he fought his emotions. His jaw ticked, the lines near his eyes deepened a bit. “I thought I’d be in the Marines forever. It was my life since I was eighteen.”

  Corinne returned with their drinks, and Shelly took a moment to put her tea bag in the hot water. When the waitress left, Shelly said, “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t help, and it probably sounds very trite, but I am sorry. If I could wave a magic wand and heal you, heal every single one of my patients, I would. But I can’t. All I can do is help you help yourself get stronger so you’re not tied to a wheelchair the rest of your life.” She lifted her mug to her lips holding it with both hands.

  Dex sipped his beer, set it down, rubbed his thumb over the condensation on the side of the glass, then looked at her. “I’m never going to be back to normal, though, am I?”

  “You want the therapist line, or the bald truth?”

  He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Give it to me.”

  “If we keep working, and you start following orders, in six months you’ll probably be walking with a cane. The muscle and tissue damage is just too deep. We can strengthen you, but you’ll probably never be—”

  “Whole,” he finished.

  “Listen, you have to fix your mentality, too, not just your muscles. Set that cane as your goal. Work toward it, aim for it, achieve it. Then we’ll take a look at where we are and we’ll reassess and maybe…”

  “Don’t start BS-ing me now, Doctor Newman.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “How much pain is there going to be by the time I make it to managing without the chair?”

  Shelly took another sip of her tea, then spooned the bag from the cup and set it on the plate. “I don’t know. The goal is to eliminate it, but I’ve seen your back.” And it had horrified her, brought tears to her eyes. She could only imagine the level of excruciating pain he must experience constantly. “I really can’t say.”

  “That’s encouraging,” he muttered, his shoulders drooping.

  “Do you mind me asking exactly what happened?”

  He flinched slightly, but uncrossed his arms and leaned forward so his elbows were on the table. Lifting his beer, he took a long drink, downing almost half of it. When he set it down, Shelly couldn’t draw her gaze from his face as his tongue came out and licked the drop from his top lip. It was all too clear in her mind how that tongue had felt when it had stroked her lip.

  “Not sure you really want to hear this,” he said softly. “It’s not pretty.”

  “It’s war. Your back was mangled. I never imagined it would be pretty.”

  He shook his head, his lip curling in what looked like disgust. “What they dug out of me was metal fragments, rocks, and chips of bone belonging to seven of my men.”

  Shelly’s lips parted on a silent gasp.

  “Some of them are still in me.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand and battled back the tears she was positive he wouldn’t want to see from her.

  “A little boy not much older than Babs came into our camp. He was alone with this raggedy ass dog. They looked like they were both starving.” He looked away, kept his face turned from her as he said, “The only reason I survived is because I’d already started walking away to go get some leftover food. We’d just had breakfast. He was carrying a bomb in a sack. Thought it was his worldly belonging
s, not a fucking—” He rested his forehead against the heel of his hand.

  “Stop,” Shelly whispered. “Oh, God.”

  He took a quick swipe at his right eye with the back of his hand. “It’s not like I haven’t talked about this before. I saw a shrink. And a chaplain. Plus my dad fought in Nam, and we talked.”

  Just then, chipper Corinne delivered their meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked in a much-too-loud voice.

  Shelly and Dex stared at each other a moment, then Shelly said, “To Go boxes, please.”

  Dex nodded in agreement. It was obvious neither of them were going to eat right now.

  “Wow, that was fast,” Corinne joked. “Okay, be right back.”

  “I’m sorry I asked you to tell me. I don’t mean to hurt you more than you’ve already—”

  “It’s okay. Really. It’s something I’ve got to get past. Somehow. Maybe a lobotomy,” he said, trying to joke.

  Shelly smiled a little. “If you need to talk, I can listen. My brother was in Desert Storm, and my dad was in Vietnam, too. I grew up surrounded by military talk. And if you need more of a professional, I know a very good psychologist.”

  “Hanson Wills?” Dex asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, he’s great.”

  Dex gave that half grin. “I dated his older sister when we were in high school.”

  “Oh. Well.” Shelly chuckled. “That might be a little awkward for you, then.”

  “It’s a small town. Unless they moved here after I went off to boot camp, like you, I know ’em.”

  “Which means you know just about everyone except maybe half of the hospital staff.”

  He nodded. “Yep. I’m grateful there’s medical services here now. Cooper Valley High didn’t produce a whole lot of doctors, though, and those it did moved to where the money was. Which makes me wonder how you ended up here.”