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Td rather not,’ she returned tightly. ‘What happened to the other driver?’

‘Nothing. Whoever it was took off. Didn’t even stop to help.’ Steve shook his head angrily. ‘It was probably a bunch of drunken kids. They use those old side roads for their drinking parties.’

‘Probably,’ she muttered softly, her uneasiness still strong. Then as an afterthought she asked, ‘Where did it happen?’

‘Just south of The Pines. I got there about the same time as the ambulance.’ Steve had started down the stairs and Sara followed. ‘Now why don’t you make me some coffee while I call Helen and tell her what’s happened and that I won’t be home tonight.’

‘Are you going back out to The Pines?’ she questioned. ‘No, I’m staying here.’ A strong air of brotherly protectiveness accompanied this statement.

‘There’s no reason for you to stay,’ she frowned. ‘I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Brad Garwood.’

‘It’s not proper for you to be running in and out of his bedroom.’

Throwing him an exasperated glance, she said, ‘With Brad in his condition, I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe.'

'What about when he wasn’t incapacitated?’ Steve’s tone was deadly serious.

She was tempted to tell him that it was none of his business, then realising that such a remark would only lead to an unproductive confrontation, she said, ‘He treats me as if he’s my big brother, and frankly, having two such specimens of that nature in my life is a little more than I care to handle.’

Visibly relaxing, Steve smiled up at her. ‘He also told me that you’d decided to move out tomorrow. Said you were concerned about your reputation. I’m glad you finally came to your senses.’

‘I was going to,’ Sara admitted with a sigh, ‘but I can’t now. He’ll need someone to look after him for the next couple of days. Besides, that will give me time to find a place of my own. I don’t relish moving in with you and Helen and then into another place. Three moves in two weeks is more than I care to face.’

‘So he really treats you like a big brother,’ he mused, then added grudgingly, ‘Well, I guess it’s okay as long as you’re out of here by the time Mom returns.’

‘It’s amazing how a five-foot, ninety-eight-pound, grey-haired female can cower a big strapping six-foot-two-inch man like yourself,’ Sara chided mischievously, relieved that he wasn’t going to launch into the long-overdue protest. She was too anxious about the man upstairs to have handled an argument with finesse.

‘Don’t try to tell me you aren’t intimidated by her,’ Steve defended himself.

‘No, but I’m closer to her size and she has me greatly beaten in age.’

‘Just promise me you’ll be out of here by the time she hits town,’ Steve’s manner became serious once again.

‘I promise,’ she said, knowing that he was more concerned about her than their mother. Steve had always been able to handle Ida, though he would never admit it. Then recalling the reason that Brad had gone out in the first place, she asked, ‘What about the vandals? Did you catch them?’

‘No,’ he shook his head, his jaw hardening in anger. ‘I never made it to The Pines. When I discovered Brad was in the accident I followed the ambulance to the hospital and stayed with him. But I did call my men from there.

They said they checked all the units right after Brad’s call but didn’t find anything. Whoever it was must have been scared off. Probably saw the woman watching them and left.’

‘I wonder why she didn’t call the security men right there. Surely you gave their number to all the residents?’ Sara frowned.

‘Maybe she did and no one was near the phone. It’s not supposed to happen, but it does.’

‘I suppose so,’ she muttered, not looking completely convinced.

‘What’s bugging you, Sis?’ Steve probed, picking up on her mood.

‘I don’t know.’ Sara pursed her lips in an attitude of self-ridicule. ‘I think it's just me. My nerves have been a little on edge lately.’

‘It’s probably Mom,’ he teased. ‘Ever since we were kids she’s had us psyched out. She always seemed to know when we were in trouble or formulating some mischief. I’ll bet that in your subconscious, you half expect her to burst through the door any minute and read you the riot act for getting into this situation.’

‘I had some help, remember,’ she reminded him with a playful grimace. Still, he had hit a nerve. Once when she was around eight years old, she had ridden her bike into the woods without permission and had fallen and broken her ankle. She had been terrified that no one would find her, but her mother had shown up right away. ‘I heard you calling me,’ Ida had said, and at the time Sara had accepted that answer. Later, when she was older, she had remembered the incident and realised that her voice could not possibly have carried all the way from the woods to the house. When she had questioned her mother, Ida had explained that it was a gift she had inherited from her mother and Sara would have it too. ‘You’ll always know when someone you love is in danger,’ Ida had told her as if this was a truth carved in stone.

Admittedly, through the years, Sara had always known when Steve was hurt, and then there was the time Joanie had broken her leg. Sara had known something was wrong with the child before anyone called her. Or the time Tommy had stitches or when Helen had burned her hand. Still... Brad Garwood? 'Ridiculous,’ she muttered.

‘What’s ridiculous?’ Steve asked, reminding her of his presence.

‘It’s ridiculous that you’re still here and not at home with your wife and children,’ she said, taking him by the arm and leading him to the door.

‘’night, Sis.’ He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, while studying her dubiously. ‘You call me if you need any help.’

‘I’m sure I can manage,’ she stated briskly, shoving him outside and waving him on his way.

‘Brad should have another one of those pain pills in ten minutes,’ he called back as he climbed into his car.

Waving to say she had heard, Sara closed the door and started back upstairs. Stopping before she reached the first landing, she returned to the kitchen to make a couple of fresh ice bags to take with her.

A few minutes later when she went into Brad’s bedroom, he appeared to still be asleep, but the moment she approached the bed, his eyes opened.

‘I’m sorry if I woke you,’ she apologised, her voice sounding much calmer than she felt as a sense of intimacy permeated the room.

‘Where’s Steve?’ he scowled.

‘I sent him home to his wife and children,’ she replied matter-of-factly, refusing to be intimidated. ‘I may not be an expert on first aid, but I can give you a couple of pills and arrange ice packs.’

‘What about the vandals?’

‘They left without doing any damage,’ she told him coolly. ‘And now it’s time for you to have a pill, then I’m going to change the ice bags.’

As he levered himself up on his good arm, the sheet fell away from his chest exposing an expanse of tanned muscular flesh. Retrieving the covering, he pulled it back up around himself.

‘I am an artist. I have seen the male torso before,’ Sara chided, though she had to admit that this particular male torso stimulated a curiously exciting reaction within her which had not been engendered by any of the other male bodies to which she had been exposed.

‘Let’s just say that I’m the modest type,’ Brad muttered, taking the pill from her and washing it down with a drink of water. ‘Now you go to bed like a good girl and let me get some rest.’

‘After I change the ice bags on your wrist,’ she stipulated. From the linen closet she extracted a hand towel and after replacing the old ice packs with the new, wrapped the ice-encased wrist in the towel. ‘I’m sorry, if this hurts,’ she said, catching a glimpse of the pain in his eyes. ‘Just finish,’ he requested tightly.

Biting her lip, she fought back a strong urge to kiss the swollen wrist, just like her grandmother and mother had always kissed her childhood injures ‘to make them better’. Then chiding herself for the foolish notion, she asked, ‘Do you have any safety pins or targe rubber bands?’

‘Rubber bands in the desk in my workroom,’ Brad answered shortly.

Returning a couple of minutes later with two large rubber bands, Sara slid them over the towel to hold it and the ice in place. ‘How does that feel? Is it too tight?’ she questioned anxiously as his jaw hardened against the pain.

‘It feels fine. Now will you please go to bed,’ he requested.

‘I’m only trying to be helpful,’ she snapped, giving in to the anger that was building inside her in response to his obvious dislike of having her nurse him.

‘And I appreciate your help, but I do want to get some rest.’ His manner was less hostile coupled with an increasing drowsiness.

Sara regretted letting her temper get the better of her again. The man was injured and in pain. It was only natural that he would be irritable. ‘I know,’ she said softly, letting her voice say she was sorry for her fit of temper. ‘I’ll be going now.’

He was already nearly asleep, and she guessed that the effect of the pill would last until morning. The bottle had cautioned the user not to take more than one every six hours.

Back in her own room, she changed into her nightgown and crawled into bed, but sleep would not come. She kept thinking about her premonition and what her mother had said. Finally, giving in to an uncontrollable urge, she left her bed and after pulling on a robe went upstairs and entered Brad’s bedroom. Walking stealthily over to the bed, she gazed down on his sleep-relaxed features. The velvet softness of his eyes when he had held her following her near-fall and her extremely erotic physical reaction to his touch haunted her. Then she again recalled the ice in those same eyes when he had accused her of lying and the arrogance in his manner when he had propositioned her. ‘It just can’t be true,’ she muttered, turning away and quickly fleeing the room. ‘It just can’t be. I can’t be in love with Brad Garwood!’

It
was early the next morning when the loud clatter of falling metal brought Sara out of the realm of dark dreams and into a groggy state of consciousness. Pulling on her robe, she stumbled out into the kitchen to find Brad shirtless, clothed only in a pair of slacks, attempting to make coffee. He had obviously overcome his embarrassment, and suddenly she wished he hadn’t, as the desire to touch the smooth hard muscles of his back assailed her.

‘I didn’t have a firm enough grip and the can slipped. Sorry I woke you,’ he apologised as he picked up the fallen container and placed it between his arm and body while again attempting to prise off the lid. Because he was right-handed and because the injured wrist was the right one, he was operating under a handicap.

‘I’ll finish that,’ Sara insisted tightly, belting her robe and taking the coffee from him. Then, noticing his naked,
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swollen wrist, she plopped the can on the counter and glared up at him. ‘Where’s your bandage?’

‘I took it off to shower and couldn’t get it wrapped right,’ he replied, a touch of sheepishness in his expression.

‘Men!’ she muttered, fighting the tender chord his almost boyish response struck. Then, abandoning the coffee making, she ran upstairs to retrieve the long piece of elastic. When she returned, Brad was measuring the coffee into the pot. ‘I said I’d do that,’ she scowled.

‘I might as well work out a system now since I’ll have to do it for myself tonight,’ he threw over his shoulder.

‘No, you won’t. I’m going to stay a while longer.'

This announcement of her intentions brought a sudden guardedness to his features as he turned to face her. ‘There’s no reason for you to change your plans on my account,’ he frowned. ‘I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.’

Her pride wanted her to pack immediately and be on her way, but she could not bring herself to leave him in his present condition. A stronger force than pride would not allow a desertion. ‘No, you aren’t,’ she said stiffly. ‘Besides, I don’t relish moving three times in rapid succession. Staying here a couple of extra days will give me a chance to find a place of my own and I won’t have to move in with Helen and Steve and then move again.’

‘I suppose, under the circumstances, that would be the most practical solution for both of us,’ he conceded grudgingly.

Unsuccessfully attempting to ignore the pain his less than agreeable attitude was causing, Sara indicated a chair at the kitchen table. ‘If you’ll please sit down, I’ll re-wrap your wrist.’

‘I didn’t mean to sound so out of sorts,’ he apologised tightly as he followed her instructions. ‘I do appreciate your concern.’

Her jaw tightened at the hint of indulgence in his voice. ‘I don’t want to be a nuisance.’

‘You’re not a nuisance,’ he growled softly, then drew a sudden sharp breath of pain as she began manoeuvring the bandage around the swollen joint and hand.

‘Are you certain this isn’t broken?’ she questioned, feeling his pain as if it was her own.

‘The doctor said it wasn’t, and he should know. He took enough X-rays.’

Although Brad did not complain, Sara read the pain in his eyes and when she finished, said, ‘I’ll go upstairs and get you one of those pain pills.’

‘No!’ he rejected the offer forcefully. ‘They make me feel groggy.’

‘You look tired. You should go back to bed,’ she suggested, all the time wanting to reach out and touch his drawn features.

‘The cleaning service comes today,' he scowled. ‘And I have work to do.’

‘You don’t plan to go into the office?’ she demanded incredulously.

‘Why not? Do you think I’ll frighten my secretary?’ His hand went up to touch the edge of the bluish swelling surrounding one of the two lines of stitches on his face.

‘I think you should stay at home and rest.’ Her voice took on a softly coaxing quality. ‘I know your wrist is still throbbing. You won’t be able to get any work done and you should keep ice on it all day today.’

‘You’re probably right,’ he grimaced, exercising the fingers of the affected hand with obvious difficulty.

‘Of course I am,’ she affirmed, adding over her shoulder as she moved swiftly towards her bedroom, ‘I’m going to dress and then fix breakfast while you go back to bed.’ However, later as she was cracking eggs into the skillet, Brad came back into the kitchen fully clothed. ‘I agreed to stay at home and keep my wrist in an ice pack. I did not agree to play the role of an invalid,’ he informed her in response to her critical glance.