Page 6 of Broken Dreams

She'd sold her car, intent on buying another once she'd settled in Florida. If she needed one. The condo she would be staying in was located close to the hospital, so she doubted she would. Maybe she'd buy a bike instead. Or an electric scooter. Something she could use to ride down to the beach.

Outside, Nick stiffly crossed the porch, then descended the stairs, one painful step at a time.

“Hop in and I’ll drive you to the hotel.” She gestured to the vehicle parked in the driveway.

“I can walk. Thanks again for dinner.” His tone was abrupt, almost rude.

If she hadn't been so accustomed to taking care of people in pain, she might have taken his dismissal personally. However, dealing with her patients and the Dr. Rolands of the world, she'd grown tough.

“Don't be an idiot. Get in the car,” she said sharply. “Do you think I can't see how badly you're hurting?”

He paused then turned to look at her as if he couldn't believe her gall. Then understanding dawn. “That's right. I forgot you're a nurse.”

Her smile was not a bit sweet. “Yes, and if you know what's good for you, you won't argue. Especially now when you look as if one little push would send you sprawling flat on your face. And I have to tell you, there’s no way I’ll get you up off the street by myself. My brother and sister will have to help.”

His jaw tightened and she knew he hated every minute of weakness. But hallelujah, he didn't bite her head off. He turned and hobbled toward the car. “Fine, you can drive me back.”

She stood, waiting until he'd slid into the passenger seat, before climbing in on the driver's side. She adjusted the driver’s seat forward then backed out of the driveway.

“So, where are you staying?” She kept her tone mild, ignoring the resentment radiating off him in waves.

“A place called The Cozy Inn. It's just six blocks east and one block south of here.”

The Cozy Inn? She glanced at him in surprise. “That's right across the street from the VA hospital where I work.”

His gaze was enigmatic. “Yeah. Although I didn’t know you worked there.”

She was dying of curiosity. “What are you doing here in Milwaukee? Other than returning a box of personal mementos, that is.”

“Nothing much.” He stared out the window as if avoiding her gaze. “I told you, I'm not practicing as a surgeon. I'm still in physical therapy.”

“I see.” But she really didn't. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she sent him a sidelong glance. Had he come to Milwaukee for a second opinion? She wanted to ask, but that would be rude.

Wouldn't it? Yes. Definitely rude.

“Here we are. The Cozy Inn.” She pulled into the motel parking lot. “Where is your room?”

“Ground level, number ten, the room on the end.” The motel was small, only two rows of rooms. The upper level sported a covered walkway. In deference to his discomfort, she pulled into the parking slot closest to the doorway near room ten.

She watched as Nick opened the passenger door and tried to swing his legs out of the car. As he struggled, he never uttered a sound, but his forehead was soon covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

Ridiculous. The guy would fall on his backside before requesting a helping hand. With a soundless sigh, she slid out from behind the wheel and stalked around to the passenger side.

“I can't stand it.” She glared at him. “It's your left side giving you problems, right?”

Remaining mute, lips compressed in a tight line, he nodded.

“That's what I thought. I'll pull you up then I want you to lean on me.” She used both of her hands to clasp his right hand and used her weight to lever him up and off the seat.

He was several shades paler by the time he managed to stand upright. She took a moment to grab his cane, then braced her body under his good arm so that she didn't stress the injured muscles of his left side. Keeping her pace slow, they walked or maybe stumbled, toward the doorway.

He was heavier than he looked, probably because of his height. She wasn't sure how they managed but soon they were standing in front of his motel room door. He had his room key and was swiping it in front of the sensor with his left hand, trying hard not to sway. She imagined anyone walking past them would think Nick was intoxicated or using illegal drugs.

“We're almost there,” she said encouragingly as he finally pushed the door open.

Inside, she was glad the room was on the small side as they made their way toward the bed. She was beginning to feel his weight, her own sore muscles protesting the strain.

“Let's turn so you can sit down.” She tried to help him pivot, but somehow her legs entwined with his and she felt him tilt sideways.

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