When he was done, he straightened and his eyes came to me. “All right, Duchess, take care when gettin’ dressed.”
Then he moved to the sink to wash the salve from his fingers and I grabbed the soft, flannel pajama bottoms, not Max’s this time, clean ones, mine. These were not checked in bold, masculine colors but were mint green with big pink, blue, yellow and peach polka dots and had a wide, blue, satiny ribbon as a drawstring. They were also loose fitting though not as loose as Max’s and I pulled them cautiously up my injured leg.
There was also the ribbed, long-sleeved, scoop-necked, blue top that went with them. I pulled the towel from my hair and Max took it from my hands and wiped his own before he shoved it on the railing as I pulled the top on.
When he turned back, I grabbed my comb, yanked it through my hair and whispered, “What’d the doctor say?”
“She’s okay. All systems go. He doesn’t figure she was in the water that long,” Max whispered back, I nodded and kept yanking the comb through my hair when Max said, “Barb and Darren are out there, Cotton called ‘em. They got here about five minutes ago.” When I looked blank, he went on, “Her Mom and Dad.”
“Oh.”
I was still yanking the comb through my hair when Max reached out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, he pulled my hand between us and pried the comb from me.
“I’m combing my hair,” I informed him unnecessarily and I watched his eyes slide from forehead to shoulders before they came back to me.
“You got it, Duchess.”
“Oh,” I repeated.
He tossed the comb in the sink and his hand at my wrist brought me closer. His other hand came to my hip and that brought me closer too.
“Baby,” he said softly as he tipped his head so his face was all I could see and the emotion welled up in me, threatening to split open my skin.
I shook my head, short, quick, frantic shakes.
“No, Max, no, not now, please,” I whispered my entreaty.
He dropped my wrist but his hand curled around my neck and he gave me what I needed. “All right, honey, we’ll talk later.”
I nodded, grateful, then fell forward and pressed my forehead to his chest.
“I need a second before I go out there,” I said quietly to his chest.
“You can have as many as you need.”
I took in a shaky but deep breath before I muttered, “Stop being nice.”
He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just stood, one hand to my hip, one hand at my neck, my hands went to his waist and I held on.
After awhile, I said, “All right.”
He kissed the top of my head and repeated my words, “All right.”
Then he grabbed my hand and walked me to the door, opened it and led me out.
A redheaded woman, her long, strawberry blonde hair streaked liberally and attractively with white, was sitting on the bed, her back to me, facing Mindy as well as hiding Mindy from me. An older, mountain man stood by the side of the bed next to her, Becca next to him. None of them turned to me and the woman was whispering to Mindy.
Max silently walked me through the room and I started to pull my gaze away from the bed, knowing Mindy was okay, she was safe, she was with her family but Brody’s eyes came to me.
My step faltered at what I saw burning there and Max’s hand tightened in mine, his arm twisting, he brought me up close as he tucked our hands against the side of his chest. He kept me moving but my head turned as we walked, my eyes held by Brody’s, tears pricking the backs of mine.
Brody nodded to me when Max and I hit the stairs. I nodded back and sucked in another unsteady breath when I watched one lone tear fall from his tough-guy, mountain-man eye.
He turned his head away and Max winded us down the stairs.
*
Mom and Steve had gone into town to go grocery shopping which was needed even after my huge shop a week ago considering Max had been hosting half the town for coffee, breakfast and dinner for a week. Cotton had gone with them to show them the way, not that it would be hard to find but it was a nice thing to do.
The doctor had also left and Mindy, Brody and their family were upstairs, murmuring to each other.
Max had taken a shower then gone outside to return the ATVs to the barn and I was cleaning to take my mind off everything. I’d dusted all Max’s furniture in the living room and was sweeping his wood floors, my hand still around the dust rag should I find something to polish while sweeping when Max walked into the room.
I barely glanced at him and didn’t stop sweeping when I did.
I heard his boots on the floor and had to stop when his arm hooked around my waist from behind.
“Max, I’m –” I started to protest, straightening.
“Stop cleaning, Duchess. When I’m home, got a woman, Caroline, comes up from town on Mondays, cleans the house,” he said quietly into my ear and I twisted my neck to look at him.
“No you don’t,” I declared with authority and his brows went up.
“Baby, I do.”