Page 14 of Miles

“A mother knows these things,” she assured him with a gentle laugh. “And I’ve been a mother more than long enough to know how to read a person without their saying a word.”

“Or even their being conscious?” he pointed out.

“Or even that, you cheeky thing.”

“Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll take over from here.”

“Good luck.” She kissed him.

I heard the smack of her lips on his cheek, or so it sounded, before the door opened and closed.

The energy in the room had changed since he’d entered, which told me I wasn’t imagining things earlier. There was something special about him, something I couldn’t put my finger on.

He was unlike anyone I had ever known. And I was beginning to think he was the one who’d rescued me. Perhaps it was the solicitous tone in his voice when he asked about me. As though he cared, more than he would if I were nothing but a vague curiosity.

I opened my eyes slowly, fluttering my lids as though I were just waking up. Letting my gaze fall on him as I looked around, rather than looking straight at him.

The way he smiled told me I had him fooled.

“Hello,” he murmured, taking a seat beside the bed. He dwarfed the chair, the way he probably dwarfed most things in comparison with his sizable frame.

I nodded slightly, the corners of my mouth curving up into a slight smile.

“Do you need anything?”

I shook my head.

“Not even something to eat?”

Another shake. If anything, I felt slightly nauseated at the thought of food.

He frowned. “You should have an appetite by now. We’ll have to do something about that.”

I pointed to the door using my good arm, then to the chair in which he sat.

He understood. “Bonnie? Her shift was over, so I took her place. I hope you don’t mind.”

I shook my head. Bonnie. I would have to create a chart in order to keep track of all the names. I’d already seen several young women throughout the day as I went in and out of consciousness—the flash of a face here, the sound of a voice there. And earlier, when I had been too deep in thought to fall asleep, I’d heard many pairs of feet pacing the hall outside my room.

I looked down at my right side. My arm and leg were both in a cast.

He grimaced. “Yes. You did quite a lot of damage to yourself, I’m afraid—or, rather, whatever it was you hit did a lot of damage. You had pretty serious breaks in your arm and leg.”

I remembered hitting something, in fact, not long after falling over the edge. That was when everything had gone black, come to think of it. I struggled to come up with a way to ask him what had happened after that without saying a word. The longer he thought I was mute, the better.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to speak.

“You must wonder why you’re here and not on the other side by now. Isn’t that right?”

I blushed, looking away for fear of the tears which I was pretty sure might start flowing.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, getting up and going to the French doors. He balled up his fists and jammed them into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not well-versed in speaking to women, especially strangers. I’ve lived with my family my entire life, and we’re rather removed from the rest of the world. If I’m terribly clumsy, I want you to know that I mean no harm or ill will.”

When he looked back, over his shoulder, my heart went out to him.

He really was as clumsy as he professed.

Probably the only way a man like him could ever be clumsy.

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