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Her thoughts turned to her late husband, who hadn’t been given any odds. He’d died on impact with that semi. How did she dare complain when she still had the sight out of her left eye?
After surviving the precarious moment, she eased her hand from Senor Goyo’s firm grip. “I’m all right,” she whispered.
“In that case I’m going to drive to Toledo for your purse and suitcase. I presume you travel with a laptop.”
He understood a lot. She nodded without looking at him.
“You can work from your hospital bed. I won’t be long.” As he started to leave she called to him.
“Don Remigio—”
He paused in the doorway. “I answer to Remi,” he said, his voice grating.
The last thing she wanted to do was offend him. “Remi, then. I’m so indebted to you, I don’t know where to start.”
“That’s good. It helps assuage my guilt.”
“The accident was my fault, not yours.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion. Mind the nurse while I’m gone.” He disappeared.
The room seemed bigger without his virile presence.
And much emptier, she realized after he’d been gone a few minutes. Since the rollover he’d been her constant companion, waking or sleeping.
She should be glad he’d gone. Tomorrow she would take a taxi to the Prado Inn, where she’d intended to stay before catching her flight. For the next week she would do what she could on the computer.
By using a taxi to get around, she could take time out to look for some different and interesting spots in Madrid’s environs to add to the new itinerary.
In the middle of making plans, the nurse came in to put three sets of drops in her eye. When she lifted the patch, Jillian couldn’t see anything, but the nurse told her that was normal this soon after surgery.
Yes, it was normal if you were blind….
As the other woman was refastening the tape, the phone rang at the side of her bed. The nurse picked up the receiver and handed it to her before leaving the room.
Only Jillian’s brother knew to reach her here at the hospital. She spoke into the phone. “David Bowen, if you’re checking on me again, I’ll have you know I’m fine!”
“You sound in a bit of a temper,” came Remi’s heavily accented voice. The sound of it caused her heart to turn over for no good reason. “You must be getting better.”
Heat crept into her face. “I’m sorry you got the brunt of that outburst. It’s just that I don’t like my brother worrying about me when they’ve got a baby on the way.”
“He told me.”
Good heavens. The two men sounded like they’d been friends for years.
“As for the reason I’m calling, I thought I’d ask if you need any shopping done.”
She blinked. “That’s very kind of you, but everything I require is in my suitcase or my purse.”
“Muy bien. Then I’ll see you within three hours.” He clicked off.
Jillian hung up the phone thinking he was more protective than Dave, and that was really saying something. For some reason Senor Goyo felt a sense of responsibility toward her she didn’t want or deserve. Too bad he’d overheard what the doctor had said.
She hated it when people felt sorry for her. After Kyle’s death she couldn’t get back to work fast enough. The people on the tour buses didn’t know anything about her or her life. That’s the way she liked to keep it.
“Buenos dias, Senora.” A custodian had entered the room and hurriedly made up the cot Remi had slept in. She folded it against the closet doors. It reminded Jillian she didn’t want him sleeping in here with her again tonight.
The woman emptied the wastebasket, then swept the room before leaving again. No sooner was Jillian alone than the nurse came in to get her up so she could go to the bathroom. On her own she washed her hands and face, then brushed her teeth with the necessities provided. Afterward she felt good enough to take a little walk around the room.
When she climbed into bed the nurse took her vital signs, gave her a smile and turned on the TV for her. “Once Senor Goyo has returned with your things, I’ll help you shower.”
“That would be wonderful. Blood got in my hair.”
“Until your appointment with Dr. Filartigua, you won’t be able to wash it with water. We have a dry shampoo here you apply and then brush out.”
After the nurse left, someone else brought her another apple juice. Jillian had never had such service. It was because of the Senor. Talk about pampering. Yet all the attention in the world wouldn’t stop her mind from thinking about her injury.
Could you get a driver’s license if you could only see out of one eye? Jillian thought so, but she would check.
She had to be able to drive to do her job, and she needed that job. It kept her so busy she didn’t have time to dwell on Kyle’s accident or the death of their dreams to get pregnant and eventually own their own tour company.
They’d planned to have it all. Instead they’d only been allowed eighteen months of marriage before tragedy struck.
Even with her patch on, tears rolled down both cheeks. Great…
Jillian could hear Senor Goyo telling her not to cry so the tears wouldn’t irritate her injury. What difference did it make now?
She reached for some tissues on the bedside table to mop up, realizing she was wallowing in self-pity. What a disaster she’d turned out to be. The second she had her laptop back, she’d look up the rules for a New York driver’s license and find out what she could or couldn’t do with one eye.
Remi stepped out of the main police station in Toledo. He waved to Paco, who’d brought Remi’s car from home. Diego nodded to him as he pulled up behind the foreman in one of the estate cars. Both men walked over to him.
“Thanks for coming.” He put Jillian’s purse and suitcase in the backseat, where he could see the overnight bag he’d asked Maria to pack for him.
Paco changed places with him and shut the door. “When will you be back?”
“Tomorrow.” He’d already instructed Maria to prepare his parents’ room for her on the main floor. No one had slept there since his widowed mother had passed away. He had an idea Jillian would enjoy it. “Senora Gray will be staying with us for at least a month. She can’t fly to the States before then and she has no family here.”
He’d just gotten off the phone with David Bowen, who had too much on his plate worrying about his pregnant wife to consider leaving her. Jillian’s brother couldn’t thank him enough for helping out at a time like this and insisted on transferring some funds to his account. Remi told him to forget it.
“What did the doctor say about her eye?”
A tight band constricted Remi’s lungs. “Barring a miracle I’m afraid there’ll be permanent damage. It’s a matter of how much.”
“That’s a tragedy.”
Diego frowned. “I wonder if she could possibly be the American who stopped at the entrance to the estate right before the accident happened.”
It had to be Jillian. She’d mentioned talking to one of the workers. “Was she blond?”
“Like liquid gold.” Diego made a gesture with his hand, the kind that meant the woman’s looks could strike a man dumb. “She wanted to talk to the owner. I told her to call you.”
He lowered his head. She wouldn’t have to do that now, but the fact that she hadn’t brought it up yet led him to believe she didn’t plan to. He gritted his teeth.
“I’ve got to get going.” Remi looked at Paco. “Call me if an emergency comes up.”
“Por supuesto.”
After thanking both men, he took off for Madrid wondering what her visit to the estate yesterday had been all about. Before long he’d have answers, but right now he intended to stay within the speed limit. It would be a long time, if ever, before he could shake off yesterday’s trauma.
Once back in Madrid he checked in at a hotel near the hospital to shower and shave. A change of shirt and trousers made him feel more human. When he glanced at his watch, he realized she would have eaten her lunch a long time ago. He’d buy something for himself in the cafeteria and take it up to her room to eat while she worked.
The police wanted to talk to her, but he’d put them off by telling them about her eye injury. At that point they agreed to wait until she was settled at the estate.
Everything had been decided, except that she hadn’t been let in on Remi’s plans yet. In his gut he knew she’d say no, but he was already prepared for her response. If there was one thing he was good at, it was negotiation—an art that had pulled the family business on solid footing again no thanks to his brother.
Two years ago all had looked hopeless, but something inside hadn’t let him give up. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t let her give up, either, no matter the prognosis.
Forty-five minutes later he entered her hospital room to find her bed empty. Either she was in the bathroom, or down the hall getting some exercise.
Three more flower arrangements guaranteed to cheer her up had been wheeled into the room on a small cart; one of pink carnations, the other two a mix of wildflowers. Any more furniture in the room would make it impossible for the nursing staff to maneuver.
He lowered the suitcase to the floor next to the wall. After putting her purse on the side table, he sat down in the only chair and began munching on his steak sandwich while he waited for her to appear.
A few more seconds and the bathroom door opened. When she saw him, she let out a squeal and held the back of her gown together, the epitome of the modest female.
He struggled not to smile. “I’ve closed my eyes. Let me know when I can open them again.”
Her bare feet made a padding sound as she hurried past him. He heard the sound of her raising the head of the bed with the remote. Then came the rustle of the sheet. “You can look now.”
When he dared, he noticed she’d already reached for her purse and was brushing her hair. It splayed about her neck and shoulders in a silky swirl.
“Thank you for bringing me my things. Throughout this whole experience you’ve gone way beyond the call of duty and I’ll be eternally grateful. But now that I have my belongings back, I want you to leave. If you try to do anything more for me, then I’ll start to feel uncomfortable.”
He’d known what she was going to say before she said it, so he deliberately finished off the rest of his sandwich before speaking again.
“I thought you wanted your laptop. If you’ll allow me, I’ll open your suitcase and set it up for you.”
She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”
“The doctor cautioned you’re not supposed to bend over yet. The sudden blood flow to your head might disturb your wound.”
“I—I didn’t know that,” she stammered. “He should have instructed me.”
“He assumed I would tell you.”
After a moment she said, “When the nurse comes in again, I’ll ask her to do it.”
Remi could only see her one eye. Between darkly fringed lashes it shimmered a green hue like new shoots of spring grass. Combined with the gleam of her golden hair, he discovered her coloring was like the velvety gold liquid with its glints of green found in a prized bottle of Goyo’s extra fine virgin olive oil—one of the most beautiful sights in the world to him when held up to the light.
He lifted a dark brow. “Why bother her with a nonmedical request when she’s been run off her feet bringing you flowers from all your admirers.”
She fidgeted with the sheet. “They’re from my brother and the people at work.”
“I’m sure you’re sorely missed.” He rose to his feet. “Since I’m here, why not let me help?”
She looked away quickly. “All right,” she said in a tentative voice. “Thank you, but then you have to go.”
Remi let that comment pass and reached for her suitcase. He put it on the chair. “What’s the code on the lock?”
“K F G.”
Her husband’s initials?
He opened it with no problem. Beneath the padding of several layers of filmy lingergie he found her laptop nestled among her clothes. The adaptor was already attached to the cord. All he had to do was insert it in the Internet outlet on the wall behind her bed.
“There you are.” He placed it on her lap, inadvertently brushing her arm in the process. The touch of her soft, smooth skin shouldn’t have fazed him, but to his chagrin he felt her warmth long after he’d straightened away from her bed. That hadn’t happened for several years. He hadn’t thought it possible to respond to a woman’s touch ever again.
Out of the periphery he watched for her to lift the lid, but she made no such move. Clearly she wanted him out of her room and her life, but he had no intention of going anywhere.
Instead he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Fermin, who ran the bottling plant on the estate. Today the weekly shipment to England needed to be loaded onto the trucks. Remi normally checked every case that went out, but today Fermin would have to be relied on to do it without him.
In order to start making a profit, Remi had long ago pared down the staff to the hardest workers who remained loyal to him. Judging by Luis’s figures, Remi’s efforts had paid off and everything was going well, even better than expected.
After planting himself in the chair, which he purposely turned the other way to avoid the frustrated looks Senora Gray kept sending him, he immersed himself in conversation with the older man who knew the business like the inside of his pocket. They discussed rehiring Jorge Diaz.
The younger man had been wanting to come back to Goyo’s on a permanent basis for some time now. Remi conceded that Jorge had always been a good worker, even if he’d been caught between conflicting loyalties for a time. When he and Fermin finally concluded business, Remi promised he’d think about it.
On a final note he told Fermin he would find a sizable bonus in his next paycheck for sticking with him over the last two difficult years. It would be the first of many such installments for his unfailing devotion to Remi and the business.
The older man got all choked up before they said goodbye.
Without pausing for breath Remi phoned the company that had done the wiring for the Internet on the estate. He wanted someone sent out as soon as possible to put an outlet in the master bedroom of the main house.
When an arrangement was made for the next day, a pleased Remi thanked the man before phoning Maria to tell her about it. He was curious to know how things were shaping up at the main house. She assured him their guest would want for nothing. While she commiserated over the Senora’s eye injury, the nurse came in the room to put in more drops and take her vital signs.
Remi walked out to the hall to give them privacy.
As long as he still had Maria on the line, he cautioned her against saying anything about the injury to Senora Gray. The American woman didn’t like being reminded of it. The less said, the better. Maria assured him she’d be the soul of discretion.
Once he’d rung off, he saw orderlies down the hall bringing dinners from the kitchen. Surprised at the lateness of the hour, he realized the day had gotten away from him without his being aware of it. Before one of the men could enter Jillian’s room, Remi said he’d take it in to her.
Pulling some bills from his wallet he asked if another dinner could be sent up for him. One small sandwich hadn’t been enough. He was still hungry.
The younger man refused the money, but told Remi to wait and he’d be right back with another dinner for him.
Excellent.
Remi stood outside the door enjoying the idea of fencing with her—that age-old Castilian dance usually involving two men at home with a sword made of the hardest Toledo steel.
