Mack stirred, opened his eyes slowly, then snapped them closed again as he came to the instant conclusion that there was a jackhammer pounding in his head and someone was drilling deep for oil in his shoulder. He also registered the late-arriving fact that he had absolutely no idea where he was.
“Uncle Mack?” a little voice whispered. “I saw you open your eyes. Are you awake? It’s me…Melissa.”
Oh, right, Mack thought groggily. Melissa, Emma…and this was Heather’s bed he was occupying. Weird. He couldn’t for the life of him remember how he got here.
The last clear image he had in his brain was taking part in a rather confusing conversation with Heather in an examining room at the hospital. Beyond that…nothing; his mind was a total blank.
“Uncle Mack?”
Mack opened his eyes again and turned his throbbing head on the pillow to see Melissa standing next to the bed. She was wearing her nightgown and had bandages on her forehead and chin with cartoon pictures of a strange-looking bald kid, and another one with orange hair, buck teeth and heavy square glasses.
“Hi, Melissa,” he said. “How ya doin’? Cool bandages you’ve got there.”
“Rugrats,” Melissa said, her voice still very hushed. “I snuck in here to see you while my mom is on the phone, ’cause I gotta talk to you, I really do.”
Mack shifted slightly and stifled a groan as the pain in his shoulder increased, shooting all the way down to the tips of his fingers.
“Go for it,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
Melissa glanced quickly at the door, then leaned closer to Mack, her nose only inches from his.
“I wanna say thank you a bunch for catching me when I fell out of the tree ’cause I really didn’t want to die and go to heaven and be an angel yet, and I’m really, really sorry that your shoulder got all icky and bloody and stuff ’cause you grabbed me ’fore I splatted on the ground, and…and…” Tears filled Melissa’s eyes. “And I love you, Uncle Mack, and I hope you feel better real soon.”
“Ah, Melissa,” Mack said, a strange achy sensation gripping his throat as she finished speaking her heartfelt words. “I’m going to be just fine. Don’t you worry about that. I’m just glad you’re all right, sweetheart. Hey, I’m going to complain to the doctor about this boring white bandage he has me wrapped in. He didn’t even give me cool stuff like Rugrats.”
Melissa frowned. “Buzzy’s mom used up all their Rugrats bandages on me. Maybe I can take some pennies out of the dream piggy and buy you some.”
“No, no,” Mack said quickly. “Those pennies are for your very own home, your dream. You can’t use them for anything else. I really don’t need Rugrats bandages. Okay?”
“’Kay…I guess.” Melissa sniffled. “Are you sure the doctor fixed you good? I don’t want you to die and go to heaven and be an angel, either.”
Mack chuckled. “I don’t think I’m a candidate for being an angel. The image doesn’t quite fit. Anyway, I promise you that I’m going to be all right. I just need a little bit of time for my shoulder to heal up again.”
“That’s good,” Melissa said, nodding. “That’s really good. You can stay right there in Mommy’s bed and heal up like you said.”
“Well, that’s a nice offer,” Mack said, “but I’ll be heading back to my hotel in the morning.”
“Wrong,” Heather said, coming into the room. “You’re not going anywhere, Mr. Marshall. Melissa, what are you doing in here? I told you that Uncle Mack had to get his rest.”
“He opened his eyes, Mom,” Melissa said. “I stood here, and stood here, and then he opened his eyes. I had to tell him I’m glad he caught me when I fell out of the tree ’cause I don’t want to be an angel in heaven yet.”
“I see,” Heather said, smiling warmly at her daughter. “Well, I’m glad you realized that you owed Uncle Mack a big thank-you. Go have your snack with Emma, then it will be time for bed.”
“’Kay.” Melissa kissed Mack on the cheek, then hiked up her nightgown and ran from the room.
Heather sat in the chair next to the bed.
“You slept for hours, Mack,” she said. “Dr. Kildare wasn’t kidding when he said he’d given you a whopping big pain shot.”
“Dr. Kildare?”
“That was his name. Don’t you remember?”
“Vaguely,” Mack said. “The scene at the hospital is sort of a blur in my mind. I seem to recall a conversation that didn’t make much sense.”
“Oh, that,” Heather said, smiling. “You’re probably getting flashes of when I was passing myself off as your wife because I was afraid they wouldn’t tell me anything about your condition if I didn’t, might have even insisted on keeping you there.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mack said. “Honey.” He paused. “Hey, look at that. You’re blushing.”
“You and Susie should start a club.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Heather said, shaking her head. “How are you feeling? Do you think you could eat something?”
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a very large truck,” Mack said, “and thank you but no, I’m not hungry.”
“Well, in the morning you’re going to have to eat, hungry or not. Your body needs nourishment in order to heal properly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “When I get back to the hotel tomorrow, I’ll have room service bring me one of everything on the menu. How’s that?”
“That is not going to happen because you’re staying right where you are,” Heather said. “You heard me say that while Melissa was still here in the room. This isn’t open for discussion, Mack. The doctor was very adamant about the importance of your getting the proper rest you need and having help doing things that take two hands to accomplish. Consider yourself a prisoner in my bed.”
“I’d have to be a fool to complain about that.” Mack smiled. “Gotcha. You’re blushing again.” His smiled faded. “We never got a chance to do the…you know…the morning-after thing. No regrets?”
“None. I promised you that,” she said. “It was a beautiful, memory-making night.”
No past. No future. Just now.
There were those words again, hollering like crazy in his head. The words that caused a cold fist to tighten in his gut, and threw him off-kilter. Which didn’t make a damn bit of sense. Forget it, he told himself. He didn’t have the energy to explore his feelings at the moment.
“Heather,” he said, “I really can’t stay here. You have enough to do with it being tax season without playing nursemaid to me.”
“Are you thirsty?”
“You are not listening to me, Heather,” Mack said, frowning.
“Nope, I’m not,” Heather said, getting to her feet and starting across the room. “You’re just going to have to live with the fact that you’re going to be the recipient of some good old-fashioned tender lovin’ care, Marshall style.” She stopped at the doorway and glanced back at Mack over her shoulder. “Honey.”
Mack chuckled as Heather disappeared from his view.
Honey, his mind echoed. Yes, it was all coming back to him now, the scene in the examining room. Heather had been fantastic, so quick on her feet, just stepped up and declared herself to be his wife.
He could remember too that in his very drugged state he’d liked the sound of it all…he and Heather as husband and wife, having pledged their love and exchanged vows declaring they would be together forever. He’d even told her that they should make a baby, might even create cute little twins.
Man, a hefty serving of potent drugs sure could scramble a person’s brain. Mack Marshall married? Mack Marshall so deeply in love that he intended to spend the remainder of his days with Heather, as her husband, the father of Melissa and Emma? Hoped to be blessed with more babies born of his love for Heather? To settle in and settle down in one spot? Have roots like a tree?
“Never happen,” he muttered, then moved carefully to attempt to ease the pain in his shoulder.
Would it?
No, no, of course not. But why, he wondered, was he registering such a sense of relief and well-being, knowing he was going to be staying right where he was until his shoulder was on the mend?
The image of his big, fancy hotel suite was so cold, empty and lonely. But here? In this shabby little house? There was warmth and laughter here, sunshine and caring, and…and love? Not just family love, not just Uncle Mack love, but man and woman love, Mack and Heather love? In love? With each other?
Ah, come on, Marshall, get a grip. He was still under the influence of the drugs, wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t falling in love with Heather.
Just because he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her, just because the lovemaking he’d shared with her had been not only physically sensational but had evoked emotions he’d never felt before, just because his heart quickened at the very sight of Heather Marshall didn’t mean…
“Oh-h-h, cripe,” he said, dragging his free hand down his face.
His agent, Marilyn, who had known him for more years than he could count, had told him days ago that he had “heart trouble” in regard to Heather. Mack Marshall, she had said, was down for the count.
He’d chalked up the malarkey she was laying on him to the fact that he had wakened her in the middle of the night.
But what had prompted Marilyn to say all that? What had he said and how had he said it that had caused her to reach such a far-out conclusion?
Oh, forget this nonsense. If a man was in love with a woman, he sure as hell would know it. Wouldn’t he? But what if that man had never been in love, didn’t know what the signs and signals were? Could love sneak up on a guy and knock him over without him even being aware that it was happening? Damn it, he didn’t know the answer to that question. He didn’t know, at the moment, a helluva lot of things.
Well, he’d better figure out what was going on because this was going to drive him right out of his mind. But then again, even if he was in love with Heather, it wouldn’t change the ultimate outcome. He was still his father’s son, had to be on the move, couldn’t be a tree with roots. So why bother to attempt to discover his true feelings for Heather? He’d be leaving Tucson just as soon as he was able to travel and—
And he didn’t want to go!
“That’s it,” Mack said. “That’s all. I refuse to carry on any further nonsensical conversations with myself. Brain, turn off. I’m going to sleep.”
Mack closed his eyes and willed himself to relax, to let the silence of sleep claim him, to gain a reprieve from his tangled thoughts.
“Mack?”
He opened his eyes again and drank in the sight of the trio standing at the foot of the bed. The twins were standing on either side of Heather in their matching nightgowns and Heather had her arms wrapped around each of her beautiful daughters.
There they were, he thought, his heart racing. Heather, Melissa and Emma. His family. There they were. The ones who would cry if he died. There they were. The mother, the children, who were so real and honest and wonderful, and who had accepted him unconditionally, welcomed him, made room for him in their lives.
And there she was.
Heather.
The woman.
The woman who had stolen his heart for all time.
The woman, he suddenly knew without a single doubt, whom he loved with every breath in his battered body.
The woman he was going to leave without her ever knowing how he felt because he couldn’t be for her what she deserved to have.
And, oh, how it hurt, the pain far greater than the discomfort from his demolished shoulder. Yes, he’d spend the rest of his life alone as he’d always been, but now, because of loving Heather, he’d spend the rest of his life…lonely.
“Mack, the girls would like to say good-night to you,” Heather said.
“Sure,” he said, hearing the raspy edge in his voice as emotions swamped him. “You bet.”
Melissa and Emma came around to the side of the bed, then took turns kissing him on the cheek.
“Good night, Uncle Mack,” they said in unison.
Good night, Daddy, Mack’s mind taunted.
“Sleep well,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“I’ll tuck them in, hear their prayers, then be back to check on you, Mack,” Heather said. “Maybe you’ll reconsider eating something. Come on, sweeties, off to bed with you.”
Mustering every ounce of willpower he possessed, Mack forced his mind to become blank, allowed no further thoughts to surface. When Heather returned and sat in the chair next to the bed, he stared straight ahead, not looking at her.
“Would you try to eat something?” she said.
“No. Thank you.” Mack paused. “Where are you going to sleep?”
“On the sofa in the living room.”
Mack continued to look at a spot on the far wall. “Your sofa is lumpy, Heather. You won’t rest well there. I’m feeling very guilty about taking your bed.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “The sofa will be fine. I’m more concerned about having to work in here, continually disturbing you when you should be resting.”
“You won’t disturb me. The hum of a computer and the clicking of keys isn’t exactly sonic-boom-level noise. Besides, I’ll be up and around tomorrow.”
“We’ll see about that.” Heather leaned forward slightly. “Is there some reason why you’re not looking at me, Mack?”
Oh, hell, no, he thought frantically. Only the fact that he’d just discovered he was irrevocably in love with her and had no idea if it would show somehow in his eyes, on his face.
Mack turned his head on the pillow and concentrated on the space two inches above Heather’s head.
“I’m…I’m wiped out,” he said. “Can’t believe how tired I am, considering I slept all day. But, man, I’m beat. Need some more sleep. Yep, that’s it. I’m going to sleep now. Good night, Heather. Thanks for the bed, and the tender lovin’ care and the…see ya.”
Heather frowned and cocked her head to one side. “Are you all right? You’re acting…I don’t know…rather strangely.”
“Drug residue,” he said. “That’s what it is. I’ll be fine in the morning. No problem.”
Heather stood, then bent over and brushed her lips over Mack’s, nearly causing him to groan out loud.
“I’ll just gather my nightclothes, then shut off the light and let you get to sleep,” she said. “Promise me that you’ll call me if you need me in the night.”
I need you for the rest of my life, Mack thought, a wave of dark despair coursing through him. But I can’t have you, Heather. Oh, God, I love you so damn much.
“Yeah. Sure,” he said. “Thanks.”
Heather nodded, collected what she needed, then started toward the doorway.
“Heather,” Mack said. Don’t go. Stay. Here. Close. With me. Please, Heather.
“Yes?” she said, stopping to look back at him.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Well, good night, Mack,” she said, then turned off the light and left the room.
“Good night…my love,” he whispered into the darkness. “I’ve got to remember, never forget…. No past. No future. Just…now.”
Heather flung back the sheet, got to her feet, then turned and smoothed the bed linens she put on the sofa. She sat back down and leaned her head on the sofa top, staring up at the ceiling. The small clock on the end table announced the dismal fact that it was 1:17 a.m. and she had yet to get any sleep.
She’d like to blame her inability to escape into blissful slumber on the lumpy sofa that was substituting as her bed, but she’d be lying to herself if she did.
No, she was awake because she couldn’t shut off her mind, reliving scene after scene of all that she’d shared with Mack…including the incredibly beautiful lovemaking of the night before.
Not only were the images in her mind unbelievably vivid, so were the memories of the emotions she had experienced. Everything, from the pure joy of laughing and talking with Mack, to the icy terror when she’d seen the spreading blood on his shirt.
Heather sighed wearily, then looked in the direction of the hallway that led to where Mack was sleeping in her bed. Without realizing for a moment that she had moved, she found herself on her feet and walking toward her bedroom.
She hesitated in the doorway, then moved to the side of the bed to gaze at Mack. A small gap in the curtains on the window allowed the moonlight to stream in, casting a silvery glow over him.
A shiver coursed through her and she crossed her arms and wrapped her hands around her elbows as she continued to stare at Mack, her heart racing and tears filling her eyes.
Here in the solitude and darkness of night, she thought, there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the truth. There were no little girls to demand her attention or to allow her to avoid facing what she now knew.
She was in love with Mack Marshall.
Heather pressed trembling fingertips to her lips to keep a sob from escaping.
When had it happened? she thought frantically. At what point had she lost control of her emotions and succumbed to her growing feelings for Mack? When had she foolishly sentenced herself to a lifetime of crying in the darkness for the man she loved who was far, far away? The man who had captured her heart and would take it with him when he left. The man who didn’t love her in return.
She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. Her self-disgust at her own weakness would not diminish if she could pinpoint the moment that she’d fallen in love with Mack. She was so furious with herself, she could just scream, which would solve nothing.
Dear heaven, what was she going to do? How was she going to get through the following days without Mack realizing how she felt about him?
If he discovered her true feelings for him, it would be the final blow to her pride, her self-respect. Silly little Heather Marshall had fallen in love with a man who would never in a million years love her in return, a man who wanted no part of forever, of commitment, of having a wife and children, roots like a tree.
No, she thought fiercely, Mack would never know that she loved him. Mack would never know that the pattern of her life was repeating itself yet again. She loved someone who was going to walk out of her life, leave her to cry in the night…alone.
Tears spilled onto Heather’s cheeks and she reached out one hand, wanting to touch Mack, to feel the warmth of his skin, the strength in his magnificent body, the softness of his lips that had captured hers in kisses that caused desire to consume her instantly.
Heather snatched her hand back and hurried from the room, nearly stumbling as tears blurred her vision. In the living room she curled into a ball on the sofa, hugging the bed pillow as she tried and failed to stop crying.
No past. No future. Just now.
The words she had spoken the previous night before she and Mack had made love echoed suddenly in her mind and Heather clung to them like a lifeline.
Just now. Just now. Just now, she thought. That was how she’d survive the days, hours, minutes, until Mack left. She’d live one second at a time, get through it, then square off against the next. She could do this. She had to.
“And then Mack will get on a plane and leave,” Heather whispered. “But he’ll never know that I…oh, Mack, I love you so much.”
Heather buried her face in the pillow and wept, feeling as though her heart was shattering into a million pieces that she’d never be able to put back together again.