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Marissa tugged her bag from the floor by its strap. Her fingers were curled beneath Rick’s, against his strong thigh. She couldn’t seem to make herself let go or shift away. She didn’t want to leave the comfort of that press of warmth against her shoulder and arm.
Rick wasn’t Michael Unsworth. He wasn’t anything like her ex-fiancé. That knowledge was probably even more cause for worry, but right now she only had room to worry about Mum.
She lifted her phone. A moment later she had the hospital on the line.
‘It’s Marissa Warren. My mother …’ she cleared her throat ‘… my mother, Matilda Warren, arrived by ambulance with abdominal pain. I’d like to know how she is.’
‘Your mother is still under examination,’ the woman on the end of the line said briskly. ‘She’s had several tests done and Doctor is with her now. We’ll know more in a little while. Are you on your way to see her, dear? There might be more news if you leave it another half hour or so …’
‘We’re only about another hour away now.’ Rick murmured the words.
She glanced at him, realised she’d ended the call and simply sat there with the phone in her hand.
‘I’ve taken it for granted that they’re there, in good health …’ She trailed off.
‘Then keep believing in that good health. And if she needs anything that I can arrange or help with, to be airlifted to a different hospital in a private helicopter or anything …’
‘I hope she won’t need that, but I appreciate your words.’ She swallowed hard and her fingers flexed beneath his as she registered just how much his concern meant to her.
She couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t see his actions as a sign of his ability to care, or commit. ‘We’ll lose phone reception for a while about half an hour out of Milberry. I may not get to hear the test results until we’re close to town.’ Her gaze tracked over him despite herself. ‘There’s an area that doesn’t pick up very well.’
‘You should make any other calls now before we lose reception.’
‘Yes, I’d better do that.’ How did Rick feel about holding her hand? Had he simply wanted to offer comfort? It felt somehow deeper than that, and he was so determined to help her, anything she might need …
He glanced her way. ‘Did you want to try your father again?’
‘No. Dad won’t have his phone on inside the hospital, but I’d like to send a message to one of my friends.’ She toyed with her phone. ‘Yes, I think Grace would be out of bed by now, or at least close to it.’
She’d also arranged a drink after work with a man from the dating site. Marissa looked up his number in her phone listings—just as well she’d put it in there—and sent a quick message explaining her situation. Doing that made her aware, finally, of how close she was pressed to Rick’s side, how much she’d been leaning on him, physically and emotionally.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not usually so … needy.’ She moved away to the passenger seat.
‘You weren’t.’ He cast a glance at her that revealed warmth and caring in the depths of his eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with leaning on someone else sometimes.’
Marissa’s phone gave a number of beeps and she quickly glanced at it. ‘Two messages.’
She checked the first message. ‘This one’s from my friend Grace in London, well, an Internet friend, actually. She says, “Be strong, sweetie, and hugs and prayers for your mum. Grace xx.” Grace has a nineteen-year-old daughter and has lived a complete different life to me in so many ways, yet I feel a connection with her. Knowing her is kind of like having a fun older sister.’
‘What about the other message?’
She didn’t really want to tell him about the man she’d planned to meet for a drink. Why had she bothered anyway? The thought rolled over her, and she did her best to push it away. Right now wasn’t the time to try to figure out whether she was wasting her time on the dating site, whether her reasons for joining were even right …
Marissa opened the message reluctantly, and then relaxed. ‘This is from another of my Internet friends, Dani. Grace must have forwarded my message to her. I didn’t want to wake Dani.’ She read the second message out. ‘“Sending prayers. Call me if you need 2. Any time!!!’”
‘Where does Dani live? Is she an older woman like Grace?’
‘San Francisco, and no. She’s younger than I am and more ambitious in certain ways. Well, perhaps not more ambitious, but highly focused in her working life particularly, I think. Dani is at the start of her career and she’s studied hard and really wants to have a great job. At the moment she’s working in some dead end position she doesn’t like to talk about and hoping something better will come along.’
‘Do you have sisters or brothers, Marissa?’
He’d probably asked to keep her mind occupied. Marissa wanted to open up to him anyway. As she recognised that, she stared out of the window at the scenery flashing by.
Grassy paddocks on either side of the road interspersed with native gum and paper-bark trees. Hills undulated as far as the eye could see and gave a sense of quiet and open space very different from the teeming life of the city.
They weren’t too far from Milberry now. What would he think of her home town?
‘No sisters or brothers. I’m an only child. Maybe that’s why I want …’ She broke off, cleared her throat. ‘Mum and Dad only ever had me, but Mum made sure I had lots of chances to play with other children, to get the social interaction I needed. What about you? Just the two sisters?’
‘Yes. I’m the eldest. Darla’s in the middle, and Faith is the youngest.’
And his sisters had married, made families, but Rick hadn’t.
Minutes passed. Marissa clutched her phone and willed it to ring.
‘There’s the ten kilometre sign.’ She stiffened in her seat and, as though their nearness had brought it about, her phone finally complied with a ring tone. With a gasp, she fumbled for it and quickly answered.
‘Yes. Yes. Okay. All right. I can’t wait to see her.’
While Marissa paused to listen to her caller, Rick slowed at the outskirts of the township.
‘We’ll see you soon, Dad.’ She ended the call and sat forward to give Rick directions.
CHAPTER TEN
‘WE’RE to go straight to Mum and Dad’s unit. I don’t know what to think!’ Marissa’s words tumbled out in a rush, concern warring with threads of relief she couldn’t truly believe. Not yet. ‘They’ve let Mum go home with my Aunty Jean to watch over her. Aunty’s a registered nurse.’
‘How could they release her so quickly after such pain?’ Rick put the question that was filling her thoughts into words. ‘What was the diagnosis? Is this a decent hospital we’re talking about? If not, we’ll get her admitted somewhere else.’
‘Apparently a cyst ruptured on one of Mum’s ovaries. She is still in some discomfort but it’s not severe now. They say she just needs to rest with the appropriate medication. Once they were certain of the diagnosis they let her go.’
Marissa drew a quick breath. ‘It is a good hospital, the staff are reliable and Aunty Jean wouldn’t let them release her unless she was confident Mum was up to that. Even so, I need to see her. If I look at her, I’ll know—’
‘How do we get to your parents’ home?’ He gestured ahead of them. ‘Let’s get you there so you can see for yourself.’
‘If you follow this road it will take you straight through the main street of the town.’ He understood what she needed and that … warmed her. ‘After the Region’s Own Bank building you turn left and Mum and Dad’s unit is in the second street on the right.’
His gaze glanced left and right as he followed the directions she’d given him.
Many of the homes were red brick or weatherboard with corrugated iron roofs. Just about every front garden had rose bushes or camellias, a front fence with a wrought iron gate with an old-fashioned curlicue scroll design on top, and a mailbox on the right-hand gatepost.
There were vintage cars interspersed with sedans and utility trucks in the main street.
A rally weekend, Marissa realised vaguely, and sat forward in her seat again as they neared the turn to her parents’ home.
‘That’s their place.’ She pointed. ‘The small pale brick one with the red sedan and green station wagon parked out front.’
Rick followed Marissa’s directions and parked on the street behind the other two cars. He studied the workmanship of the square building design, with its regulation small porch, front window awnings and slightly curved pathway from the front fence to that porch, but his thoughts were focused on the woman at his side.
He’d expected Marissa to leap from the vehicle before he’d even parked it properly. Instead, at the last minute, she turned to face him.
Her eyes were wide, her expression a combination of concern and chagrin. ‘I haven’t thanked you for dropping everything to get me here the way you did and for your kindness during the trip. It … well … I hope Mum truly is a lot better, though I’m still concerned for her, and I appreciate—’
‘I know you do, and there’s no need to say anything.’ Maybe she was hesitating at the last moment out of fear of what she would find. If so, the sooner she saw her Mum the better. He opened his door and came to her side to help her out.
With her hand clasped in his as he helped her down, he admitted, ‘I wanted to bring you.’ He’d needed to, in the same way he’d needed to fix things for Darla over the years, for Faith.
No. Not the same. This was different.
Yes. It’s more than those urges have ever been.
He didn’t want to think that. Their gazes met and held for a brief moment and something flared between them. She did fly up the path then, and rapped on the door even as it opened from inside.
Rick followed more slowly and watched as a man with thinning grey-streaked dark hair pulled Marissa into his arms and held her tight. The comfort given and exchanged in their hug caught at something inside Rick and his chest hurt as he acknowledged the deep closeness playing out in front of him.
‘Dad, this is the boss of Morgan’s, Rick Morgan. I told you and Mum I’m working for him while his secretary is on sick leave and Gordon is on holiday.’ Marissa rushed the words out and then her voice softened. ‘Rick, please meet my father, Abraham Warren, but he prefers Abe.’
Did Marissa’s face soften on his name? It had seemed to and while something inside Rick took the thought in a stranglehold and refused to let it go, heat rode the back of his neck as he shook the older man’s hand and murmured a greeting.
He was concerned. He needed Marissa to see her mother and feel assured that the woman would be okay. It wasn’t anything else. Certainly not some misguided and misplaced hope that Marissa’s father would approve—like—him.
‘Thank you for bringing Marissa to us.’ Abe stepped back. If he noticed anything odd in Rick’s demeanour, he didn’t show it.
Rick wished he had some of the same self-control.
Abe went on, ‘Come inside, both of you. Marissa, Mum’s fretting that you rushed to get here, but she’s also bursting to see you. Maybe she’ll settle down and rest once she has.’
The combination of protectiveness and residual worry in the man’s tone said it all.
The small unit had a living area filled with a two-seater couch and several chairs. A kitchen backed onto the area and there were rooms packed tightly together off a hallway to the right.
Bedroom, bedroom, bathroom, Rick guessed. The laundry room would be at the back behind the kitchen. A woman emerged through an open door and smiled at Marissa. Hugged her briskly and stepped aside. ‘Go on and see your mum. A rupture is nasty and it can be very dangerous but your mum’s going to be just fine and I’m staying two nights to watch her in any case. It only took me two hours to get here from Tuckwell. I left quickly when your dad phoned.’
Marissa stepped through the door and disappeared. A moment later Rick heard a soft sob quickly stifled, followed by a rush of low words. Marissa’s voice and another one—older, soothing and being soothed. He wanted to burst into the room, do something. Hold Marissa and never let anything upset her again.
Instead, he stood in the middle of the living room, fists clenched as he forgot all about the two people waiting there, watching him. Then he turned to Marissa’s father. ‘Your wife truly is well enough to leave the hospital? Marissa was worried.’
‘Yes, and Jean will help me keep an eye on her.’ Abe examined Rick with shrewd eyes that seemed to have realised something about his guest. Maybe that Rick had eyes only for his daughter.
Rick ran a hand through his hair. ‘It’s been an uneasy few hours. Far more so for you, I’m sure.’
Abe stared hard at him for a long moment before he spoke again. ‘Very true. Now, how long have you and my daughter—’
‘Well, it must be time for a cup of tea.’ The nurse cleared her throat rather noisily. ‘How about I put the kettle on, Abe? I’m sure Tilda would enjoy a cup about now. We probably all could do with one.’
On her way past Rick, she gestured towards one of the squashy cloth-covered lounge chairs. ‘Why don’t you have a seat? And I’m Jean, Tilda’s sister, though I’m sure you’ve worked that out.
‘We can make our way through the introductions properly in a minute and you can tell us how the vintage car festival seems to be shaping up, how many of the cars you saw as you drove in.’ She glanced at Abe and her gaze seemed to warn him off launching a more personal inquisition. ‘It’s one of Milberry’s special weekends, you know.’
Rick had given away more of an interest in his borrowed secretary than he should have. At the moment he couldn’t raise much concern for the fact. Marissa had needed to get here. Rick had needed to smooth a path for her and he’d go on smoothing one for as long as he felt it was needed.
‘I’m afraid I didn’t take much notice of the traffic on the way in.’ Rick took a seat as ordered and put his hands on his spread knees. He gave himself time to look around this room owned by the people who had raised Marissa. There were photos of her everywhere.
Marissa as a baby, toddler, child and teenager and more recent ones.
‘Her hair was always curly.’ He murmured the words, took the cup that Jean offered, nodded his thanks. Cleared his throat. ‘It is rather noticeable. Her hair.’
‘Yes.’ Jean slipped into the other room to deliver the tea to Marissa’s mum.
That left Rick and Marissa’s father. ‘There won’t be any lingering effects from the illness, I hope?’
The older man rubbed a work-worn hand over his tanned jaw. ‘She’s exhausted now and they’ve given her some medication to deal with the after-effects but they say in a few days she won’t even know it’s happened. I’m just grateful …’ He swallowed and took a deep breath. ‘Now, if I can just get her to rest properly until she really is all better I’ll be satisfied. We could both get a bit of leave from our work—’
‘Rick, will you come in and meet Mum before she tries to have a nap?’ Marissa asked from the doorway of her mother’s room, and Rick rose immediately to his feet.
He caught her hand in his briefly at the door. Then he searched her face and noted the slight redness around her eyes. Asked in a low voice, ‘Will she mind me seeing her when she’s not a hundred per cent?’
‘Probably.’ Marissa’s smile held relief and gratitude and a wealth of affection for the woman Rick had yet to meet. ‘But her curiosity about my boss will overrule that.’
He didn’t feel like a boss right now. The expression in Marissa’s eyes as she looked at him, the way she’d curled her fingers around his hand—those hadn’t seemed very businesslike either.
They stepped into the bedroom together. There were no chairs. It wasn’t a hospital room, but the room shared by two people who’d loved each other and lived together for many years. A framed wedding photo hung on the wall at the foot of the bed. Knick-knacks sat cheek by jowl on a dresser with a man’s watch and a well-worn hat.
Rick imagined sharing such a room with Marissa. The idea was alien and stunning all at once. He turned to the woman in the bed. ‘I’m very sorry to know you’ve been unwell, Mrs Warren.’
Marissa stepped past him, went to her mother and caught her hand in hers, pressed it to her face and kissed the back of it before she eased down gently to sit on the bed beside her mum. ‘Yes, you’re not allowed to pull a stunt like that again, Mum. You scared me silly.’
‘I’ll try not to.’ Tilda Warren shifted slightly in the bed and, though her face bore the marks of the strain and discomfort she’d experienced, she looked enough like Marissa that Rick couldn’t help but like her on sight.
She smiled at Rick. ‘Thank you for bringing Marissa to us. I won’t pretend I’m not glad to see her. The last few hours were a bit frightening and I’m glad to see my girl.’
‘And now you’re going to rest and hopefully go to sleep.’ Marissa fussed a little and then, with obvious reluctance and an equal amount of determination, prepared to leave the room. ‘I’ll look in on you later, even if you’ve gone to sleep. Just to be sure …’
‘Thank you, love.’ Tilda sighed. ‘I admit I feel rather wiped out and I think I probably will sleep, at least for a while. They gave me painkillers. You’ll need some dinner, though, and—’
‘And we can take care of that by ourselves,’ Marissa interrupted with a loving smile, and they left the room together.
The depth of the relief Rick felt surprised him. That Marissa’s mother would be okay; that nothing had happened that would cause Marissa a lot of long-term unhappiness.
When Marissa stared rather blankly at the contents of the fridge, he asked if there were any restaurants or take-away food places in the town. ‘You’ve all had a stressful time. Let me at least pick up something for dinner.’
He did that, managing it without stepping on Abe’s toes. Abe sat with his wife even after sleep claimed her before he finally emerged and spent some time talking quietly with his daughter while his sister-in-law got up and down at intervals to look in on Marissa’s mum.
They spoke in hushed tones of nothing much. Abe asked a little about Rick’s business. Jean asked about his roots, and Rick admitted he’d never lived outside the city, that his sisters and nieces were there. His gaze tracked Marissa’s every movement. He had a plan for how he might do something for her mother as well …
Mum truly would be okay. Marissa looked in on her one last time and finally started to believe it. As she acknowledged this, some of the things she’d pushed aside in her haste to get here filtered through at last, and she frowned for a whole other set of reasons.
She stood and collected her bag from where she must have dumped it beside a lounge chair when she’d first come into the house. ‘You’ll be all right through the night, Aunty?’
