02_Groom of Her Own (16 page)

Seeing the tense line of Brad’s jaw, she reached out to touch his arm reassuringly. “She’ll be okay,” Laura said quickly. “She’s got about a dozen stings, enough to be very uncomfortable but not enough to be dangerous.”

Brad raked his fingers through his hair and expelled a long breath. “Thank God!”

“It looks like Sam wasn’t the only victim,” Laura noted with a frown, her eyes on his hand.

He glanced down. He had two welts on the back of one hand, but he only vaguely remembered the sharp stings. They were throbbing now, he realized. But compared to what Sam must be experiencing—he waved Laura’s concern aside. “I’m fine. Listen, would you two go out and try to keep the party going? I know Sam would feel awful if this incident disrupted the picnic any more than it has already. I’d do it myself, but Fd rather stick close here.”

“Sure,” Nick said. “Come on, Laura.”

“Maybe I should stay in case Sam…”

“Come on, Laura,” Nick repeated more insistently. “Brad will be here if she needs anything,” he added meaningfully.

“Oh. Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll want to take Sam home after this, Brad, so just tell her I’ll call tomorrow, will you?”

“Okay.”

Brad watched them leave and then resumed his position outside the door. Another ten interminable minutes passed before Sandy appeared, and by then Brad was on the verge of going in, invited or not. He was in no mood for small talk when she appeared at the door.

“Well?” he said tensely, without preamble.

Sandy smiled. “Relax, Brad. She’s okay. Uncomfortable, but okay.”

Brad felt the tendons in his back and neck loosen slightly, and the rigid line of his shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes. “Can I take her home now?”

“Yes. She’s not going to feel too hot, though. I’ve already told her what she needs to do, but I’m not sure she took it all in, so let me repeat it for you—aspirin every four hours as needed, put this on the stings,” she handed him a bottle of lotion donated by Linda, “and keep an ice pack on the swelling on her ankle. She has multiple stings in very close proximity there, which is going to make walking difficult for a couple of days. After that, the swelling and redness will dissipate. In a week she’ll hardly even know this happened.”

“Can I go in now?” he asked.

“Sure. She’s decent And since I know I’m leaving her in good hands, I think I’ll head outside and have some food before it’s all gone,” she said with a wink.

Brad waited until Sandy disappeared down the hall, then took a deep, steadying breath before he. turned the knob and walked inside.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding an ice pack, her pale face and the lines of strain around her eyes providing silent but eloquent evidence of her pain. She gave him a wan smile, and he crossed the room in three strides, dropping to one knee in front of her.

“I guess I look a mess, huh?” she said, a tremor in her voice.

He swallowed convulsively. “You look just fine to me,” he replied sincerely, his own voice husky. Objectively speaking, however, her words were more accurate than his. The welts near her upper lip and above her eye were an angry red, but as he surveyed the rest of the damage, he realized her right hand and left ankle had taken the brunt of the attack. Two of her fingers were swollen, and her ankle was puffy and covered with crimson welts.

When his gaze traveled back to her face, he saw the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, and his throat constricted painfully. He wanted to pull her close, to hug away all of her hurt, but he knew that in this case physical proximity would probably exacerbate the pain. So he refrained, contenting himself by running a gentle finger down one cheek.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes anguished.

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, her voice still unsteady. “Listen, Brad, I know this is a big event for your church, and everyone expects you to attend. I can just rest here until you’re ready to leave.” At least the attack gave her an excuse to skip out on the rest of the event, she thought, trying to look on the bright side.

He stared at her. Did she really think he’d let her lie here and suffer while he was out socializing? “Sam, I’m taking you home right now,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

“But I don’t want to ruin your day,” she protested.

Brad shook his head in amazement Despite her pain she was worried about ruining
his
day.

“You have
not
ruined my day,” he said firmly. Before she could reply, he stood up and held out his hand. “Can you make it to the car, or do you want me to carry you?” he asked.

Sam tried to smile again, but the effort seemed to be too great, and she only managed a slight grimace. “The next thing we’ll be dealing with is a back injury if you have to keep lugging me around. I think you did that once today already.”

Sam had very little recollection of the recent disaster. She remembered coming out of the barn, and Brad’s fiantic waving. Then everything was shrouded in a cloud of sharp, stinging pain that had washed over her in wave after wave. She did have a vague memory, though, of being swept into Brad’s arms, followed by a floating sensation as he carried her into the house.

“I don’t mind doing it again,” he told her with a smile.

“Thanks. But I think I can manage.” She took his hand and he eased her up, noting the way she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Sam, I—”

“I’m okay, Brad,” she said. “Just…give me a minute.”

He watched her silently as she took several deep breaths, and the fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes convinced him that she was struggling to mask her pain before she looked at him. When at last their gazes met, it wasn’t her eyes that gave her away, but the tight, narrow line of her mouth and her deeply knit brow.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Brad thought about protesting. She didn’t have to put up a strong front for him. But at this point he didn’t think she could handle an argument He suspected it was requiring all of her energy and willpower just to remain upright. So he put his arm around her waist for support, and they slowly made their way out the front door, avoiding the crowd in the back. Sam leaned heavily on him the whole way, favoring her injured ankle.

By the time they reached the car and she carefully eased herself into the front seat, she was breathing heavily and the lines in her forehead were etched even deeper.

“Listen, Sam, maybe I should get Sandy again,” Brad said worriedly.

“No. I’m all right.”

Her answer didn’t surprise him, but neither did it convince him. However, Sandy
had
assured him that her condition wasn’t serious, just uncomfortable. He figured the best thing he could do was get her home as quickly as possible.

Sam didn’t speak at all during the drive back into the city. Brad couldn’t tell if she was asleep or just trying to conserve her strength. But in either case, he didn’t bother her. He had some thinking to do, anyway. Because even though he’d intended this to be a “date,” a turning point in their relationship, a lot more had happened than even he’d expected.

First, there was his intense, purely physical response when she’d fallen on top of him and he’d felt her soft, supple curves molded against his body. That physical response, more than the fall, was what had taken his breath away.

Then there was his emotional reaction to her distress. When he saw her engulfed in that swarm of bees… His stomach turned over and his jaw clenched at the memory. Her startled cries of pain would haunt him for a long time. The fear he experienced, his sheer terror at the threat to her physical safety, went far beyond simple empathy.

Even now, he felt as if his heart was being squeezed in a vise when he looked at her. She seemed so fragile and defenseless, and the fierce surge of protectiveness that had engulfed him when he’d carried her into the house earlier returned with renewed intensity. He desperately wanted to ease her hurt and simply take care of her.

It was that sense of desperation that made him realize how deeply his feelings ran. It surprised him, and it had clearly surprised Sam. Yet her feelings matched his, he knew. He’d seen the fire smoldering in her eyes when they’d stared at each other after they’d fallen, their faces only inches apart But she was running scared.

Brad shook his head ruefully. The day had certainly not turned out the way he’d expected. If this was a first date, they were not off to an auspicious beginning. Between the tumble and the bee incident,
disaster
might be a better term than
date.
But he’d learned a lot about himself and Sam.

He glanced over at her again, wanting to talk this thing through, knowing she wasn’t up to a heavy discussion today. But as soon as she was feeling more like herself, he intended to find out why she was so frightened of the idea of a romantic involvement And then he intended to put those fears to rest Because after today, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that their days of being “just friends” were over.

“Sam?” he touched her shoulder gently, and her eyelids flickered open. “We’re home.”

Sam wasn’t really asleep. She’d been drifting in a sort of self-induced trance as she tried to shut out the pain that seemed to radiate through her hand and ankle. She’d succeeded marginally, managing to reduce the pain to a dull throb, but the thought of moving was extremely unappealing. Unfortunately, however, she couldn’t very well stay in the car.

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Stay put till I come around,” Brad said.

Sam didn’t argue. She’d stay here all night if he would let her. But a moment later her door swung open and he leaned down, his face a mask of concern.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked.

“Well, the stinging isn’t quite so bad,” she said. Thankfully, that had subsided somewhat.

“I think I can read between the lines on that answer,” he said grimly. “And the offer of a lift—literally—is still open.”

She managed a shaky smile. “Thanks. But what would the neighbors say?”

“Oh, I have a feeling Mrs. Johnson would approve. After all, she thinks I’m your young man.” He tilted his head and gave her a crooked grin. “Come to think of it, maybe she needs her vision checked.
Young
is hardly an accurate description.”

“It’s all relative,” Sam replied with a faint smile. “Remember, she’s eighty-five.”

“You have a point,” he admitted. Brad knew Sam was attempting to psyche herself up for the walk to her condo, and he gave her the time she needed.

“Brad?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“I’m sorry about today. This really messed up your plans.”

She didn’t know the half of it, he thought But he’d make up for lost time later. “Don’t worry, Sam. There will be other picnics.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, we might as well go in.”

“How can I help?”

“If you could hold this,” she said, handing him the ice pack, “and just let me lean on you when I get out, I think I’ll be fine.”

Sam bit her lip as she struggled out of the car, then leaned against the door for support. Brad moved beside her and slipped his arm around her waist, and they made their way slowly up the steps and down the walkway.

By the time they reached her front door, there was a thin film of perspiration on her upper lip. As she fumbled for her key, the look of exhaustion and strain on her features convinced Brad that she needed to lie down as soon as possible.

When Sam at last withdrew the key, Brad took it from her trembling fingers, fitted it into the lock and pushed the door open. Then he guided her inside and toward the couch, where he eased her gently onto the cushions. As she sank down, she expelled a shaky breath and closed her eyes, letting her head drop back wearily.

“I’ll refill the ice pack,” Brad said quietly.

He completed the task as quickly as possible and then sat down beside her, careful to jostle the cushions as little as possible. He reached for her uninjured hand and she opened her eyes, giving him a tired smile.

“I bet you’re sorry you asked me to that picnic,” she said ruefully.

“No. Just sorry about everything that happened.” Well, not quite everything, he corrected himself silently. But certainly the bee incident.

She glanced at her watch and frowned. “I guess it’s too late for you to go back, isn’t it?”

Brad looked at her steadily. He’d already thought this through, and he was ready to argue the point if necessary. Maybe his congregation wouldn’t approve. Maybe what he was about to suggest flew in the face of the propriety he always so carefully observed. But at the moment he cared more about Sam than propriety. Besides, abandoning her, alone and in pain, just seemed wrong. “Sam, I have no intention of leaving here until tomorrow,” he informed her, his voice firm.

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

Brad knew that Sam wasn’t seriously ill or injured. But neither was she in any shape to function on her own. She could hardly walk. And he didn’t intend for her to try, at least for tonight “I’m staying until morning,” he replied.

“But…why?” she asked in bewildered surprise.

“Because I want to. Because you’re in no condition to be left alone.” Because I care about you more than you’re willing to acknowledge, he added silently.

“But…you can’t,” she said in panic, instinctively sensing danger. It would
not
be a good idea to have Brad in her condo all night. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

He’d expected a protest He’d also decided that the subject was not open for discussion. “Look, Sam,” he said, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this, okay? I can’t just walk out and leave you in pain to fend for yourself.”

Sam’s throat contracted convulsively at the tenderness in his voice. No man had ever cared for her this much before. She tried not to cry but she was powerless to stop her reaction.

Brad had expected resistance. Instead, he watched her face crumple, saw the tears fill her eyes and silently spill onto her cheeks, heard the muffled sob. Throwing aside his resolution to keep his distance until she was fully recovered, he pulled her into his arms and pressed her fiercely against his chest, stroking her back with one hand as his other gently caressed her nape.