As they flew through the darkness, Court came into the cabin and sat down beside her. In the dim light she could see the fatigue on his face. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against him and closed his eyes. “Can’t sleep without you in my arms,” he murmured before his even breathing told her he’d gone to sleep. She snuggled against him, took Neetie’s hand in hers, closed her eyes and found rest.
Outside Boston, they boarded the helicopter that Court had arranged to have waiting. Maggie was sure the Armstrong name had something to do with the VIP treatment but Court’s forceful personality had something to do with it as well. In any other circumstances Maggie would’ve enjoyed flying over the beautiful old city but found it another panoramic reminder of how different her and Court’s lives were.
The emergency room staff was expecting them when they landed and were well organized. Maggie had been a part of almost every emergency at the Teligu Hospital but could do little more than stand aside and watch others work here. Although uncomfortable with being on the sidelines, she understood the necessity.
The paperwork was processed and Neetie was whisked off to ICU. She and Court went up with Neetie. They were needed to translate. Maggie refused to leave his side until she was forced to by hospital rules. She held Neetie’s hand and kept a constant dialogue going, as much for herself as for him. The nurses were competent and compassionate as they settled Neetie. His wary eyes focused on her regardless of what went on around him. He was so tired when he tried to speak it was little more than the puckering of his lips. Given a sedative, the boy’s eyes were soon closing. As he drifted off, she whispered, “I’m right here. I love you.”
Maggie wiped a tear from her cheek. She’d been devastated when the doctor had told her she couldn’t have children, and if she lost Neetie…
Raja had been hurried off to somewhere unknown. Maggie never felt more out of place or out of control her life but she refused to fall apart. Court’s put a hand on her waist and squeezed it encouragingly. “He’ll be fine.”
“He has to be. I won’t let myself think differently.”
“He’s in one of the best hospitals in the world. Come on, let’s go and get some rest. We’ll come back first thing in the morning.”
“I’m staying here,” she stated.
“No, you’re not. You’ll be no good to Neetie if you’re dead on your feet. He’s in good hands. Now is the time for you to take care of yourself.”
* * *
Court had hoped he was wrong about Neetie’s condition but there was also a feeling of exhilaration that went with knowing he’d made the right call. That old self-doubt that had plagued him for what seemed like forever began to disappear. The heavy weight he’d been carrying had lightened, making him feeling more like the doctor he’d once been.
With Neetie in the hospital ICU and the TIPS procedure planned for the next morning, Court felt better about Neetie’s health than he had in days. Neetie would have a slow recovery period because of malnourishment but he was young, which was on his side.
Court observed Maggie in the late-afternoon sun while she looked out the window of the chauffeur-driven car on the way to his home.
“It’s beautiful here. I’ve never been to Boston.”
He squeezed her hand. “It is beautiful. I love this place. It has been my home all my life.”
Maggie looked as him, giving him a guarded smile as they continued along the river toward the older area of the city. Had something he’d said bothered her?
A few minutes later she said, “I don’t remember the name of this river.”
“The Charles. During my college days I used to have crew practice along here.”
“Really? We don’t do much boating in northern Ghana.” She continued to look out at the passing landscape.
For him, Maggie was as much a shining jewel in the green metropolis of Boston as she’d been in the drab brown of Africa. She stood out, adding life and energy to every place she went. The driver pulled the car to a stop in front of his brownstone.
“We’re home.” Somehow it sounded right to include Maggie in the statement.
“This is where you live?” Surprise surrounded each of her words.
“What did you expect? A big, shiny, glass-and-chrome high-rise?”
“Well, yeah, I guess I did,” she said, climbing up the rock steps.
He’d told her in no uncertain terms she wouldn’t be staying at a hotel near the hospital when she’d argued about staying with him. He was the emergency call number and if Neetie had any problems he would know first and so would she. Her concern for Neetie was the only reason she’d agreed to the arrangement. Maggie had made one stipulation—they would not share a bed. He wasn’t pleased with the condition, but he would honor it. Despite his body’s craving for hers and that it might mean days of frustration.
He unlocked the door to his home, which was over a hundred years old, and pushed it open. Maggie followed him in. He watched her as she wandered around the living room and dropped into his favorite leather chair. She wiggled into the corner and breathed deeply. She seemed to fit perfectly in his house. That was a thought he declined to examine.
“You’ve no idea how long it has been since I sat in a chair like this. It’s almost heaven.”
Court chuckled. “You keep that up and I’ll be envious of a chair.”
“I might like it better than I do you.” She smiled at him while she rubbed her hand over the arm.
“Would you like something to eat or drink? I called my housekeeper and asked her to buy a few things.”
“No, I’m fine,” she murmured, laying her head back against the chair and sighing.
Court went to make some coffee anyway. He returned to find Maggie still curled in his chair but sound asleep. Poor thing. He smiled. Maggie would hate knowing he’d thought of her in that context. She’d been running on adrenaline for days. Terrified that Neetie wouldn’t live, she’d put up a brave front more than once. She was the toughest person he knew. With Neetie stable and the procedure planned, she’d crashed.
Scooping her up, he carried her to the spare bedroom. Court enjoyed the feel of Maggie against him. She shifted but didn’t wake up when he brushed his lips against hers. In such a short time she’d become precious to him. He’d not intended it to happen, had even fought against it. Was still fighting it.
What would it be like to carry her to his bed every night? Heaven. But it would never last.
* * *
The next morning Maggie found Court in the kitchen, standing by the coffeepot with nothing but his jeans on. If he ever gave up being a doctor, he needed to consider being a model. When her eyes met his, she saw mischief dancing there. “Like what you see?”
“Are there no bounds to your ego?” she huffed. “Don’t we need to go? I want to be at the hospital before Neetie wakes up. I know he’s terrified. He’s never seen anything like the hospital.”
“We’ll be there in plenty of time. He’s been so sick I’m sure he’s sleeping.”
“Still—”
“I know. Little Miss Mama needs to see about her chick.”
She bowed her back. “Yes, I do, and if you’re not ready I’ll call a taxi.”
“Ho, that’s not necessary. Give me a sec to finish dressing.”
Maggie prepared a cup of tea while she waited. She’d missed having Court next to her during the night. She’d woken a number of times searching for him, only to curl into a ball and dream of his touch again. It had to be this way, otherwise she’d leave her heart behind in Boston when she left.
Neetie was awake when she and Court went to his bedside. Maggie flicked Court an “I told you so” look. The whites of Neetie’s eyes were still a hazy yellow. Thankfully his fever was almost gone. After the TIPS procedure he should recover quickly. She looked forward to having the old talkative Neetie back. Maggie smiled. She missed his jabber, even though she had to tell him to hush way too often.
A couple of nurses a
rrived to take Neetie down to the radiology department to do the TIPS. “Come on, I think they’ll let us walk down with him,” Court said.
“Sure, Dr. Armstrong. That should be fine,” one of the nurses said, looking at Court as if he were cake and it was her birthday. For the first time in her life Maggie wanted to put a sign on a man that read “Mine.” No matter what had passed between Court and herself earlier, she had no right to think that way.
Court paid the nurse no attention. Instead, he concentrated on walking beside her while she held Neetie’s hand.
“The parents’ waiting room is just off this hallway,” the other nurse directed.
The statement took her by surprise. Her and Court parents? Neetie’s parents? She did like the sound of it, though. “We’re not his… I’m going to—”
Court caught her hand for a second. “She’s letting us know where the waiting room is. Not making legal pronouncements.”
“Yeah, uh, I know,” she mumbled, intrigued by the prospect that she and Court could share parenthood. No, it would never work. He’d even told her they had no future.
“Come on, I’ll buy you breakfast while Neetie’s