“Yes. Court isn’t at home right now.”
“You are who I wanted to see. May I come in?”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Do.” Maggie opened the door wider and allowed her entrance. Where was Court and why didn’t he come on home? “Um, would you like a cup of tea?”
“That would be lovely.”
Maggie was even more disconcerted when Court’s mother followed her into the kitchen. She was dressed in tailored slacks with a simple blouse that screamed expensive. In a graceful movement she sat in one of the chairs at the table.
“When I got a phone call from my daughter telling me that Court had a woman and child staying with him I had to come and see for myself.”
“Mrs. Armstrong—”
“Please, call me Grace.” It was a demand instead of a request. Maggie didn’t have to use her imagination to know where Court’s forceful personally had originated.
“So tell me what’s going on between you and my son.”
Every muscle in Maggie drew tight. What was Court’s mother up to? Maggie’s hand shook as she placed the tea cup on the table in front of the woman.
Grace smiled, reached over and patted her arm. “I’m a prying mother who wants to know what’s going on with her son.”
“We’re coworkers. I’m a nurse at the hospital in Teligu, Ghana, West Africa. I’m only here because a boy from one of the villages needed surgery and I came to see about him.”
“Well, I think there may be more to it than that. To my knowledge, no woman has ever stayed at Court’s home. It’s his sanctuary.”
“Court has been very kind to Neetie and me.”
Grace gave her a knowing smile then said, “Tell me about where you live and what you do.”
Maggie was much happier with this subject. She described the hospital and the people in Northern Ghana. With Grace’s encouragement, Maggie even shared her plans for outlying clinics.
“You sound every devoted to your work.”
“It’s my life. I love the people. But they have to struggle for good medical care.” Maggie hesitated. “Did you know that the hospital submitted an application for a grant to the Armstrong Foundation?”
“Yes. Court mentioned it at a board meeting.”
So if it hadn’t been for his sister and the foundation Court’s mother would’ve had no idea about her. Still, this could be Maggie’s chance to sway someone on the board to her way of thinking. “I wish the foundation would reconsider it.”
The front door opening and Court calling, “Maggie!” ended their conversation.
“I’m in the kitchen with your mother.” Maggie watched Court’s mother stiffen.
Neetie came bounding into the room. “Missy Maggie, we saw big lion. A bear. Birds.”
Court followed. He always took her breath away when she looked at him. Neetie continued to jabber on about animals and she looked at Court questioningly.
“We’ve spent the afternoon at the zoo. You’re getting a rundown of every animal he saw.”
Maggie gave Neetie a hug. “So I guess you had a big day.”
Neetie nodded vigorously but stopped short when he realized someone else was in the room.
“Neetie, this is Mister Doctor’s mother,” Maggie said, and then gave him a nudge and said, “Why don’t you go and play?” He hopped out the door.
“Mother,” Court said with a curt nod. His smile faded and a farrow creased his forehead.
“Courtland.”
Where was the kiss or hug that should have been there between mother and son?
“Why are you here?” Court asked.
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Court, she came to see me. She wanted to know about Ghana.”
“I thought I’d come by and meet the young lady staying with you since I knew you wouldn’t be bringing her to the house to meet your father and me.”
“Really, Mother? You’ve never shown any interest in my friends before.”
What was wrong with him? Maggie had never seen Court act so callously toward anyone. “Court, why don’t you sit and I’ll fix you a cup of tea.”
“I don’t care for one. Are you ready to go to dinner?”
Court’s mother stood, gripping her clutch purse. “I’ll be going.”
“I’ll show you out,” Court said, already heading to the front door.
“Maggie, it was a pleasure to meet you. Please forgive my son’s lack of manners,” Grace said.
Maggie watched from the kitchen door as Court followed his mother outside. When he returned he looked more agitated than he had been earlier. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Leave it alone, Maggie. This isn’t something you can fix.”
CHAPTER NINE
AT HOME again after their dinner out, Maggie put a tired Neetie to bed. He’d been quieter than usual as they’d driven home and he didn’t seem to be as excited about his supper as she had expected him to be.
“He’s doing fine but we’ll keep checking on him regularly, don’t worry,” Court said when she voiced her concern. His good humor had returned by the time they had arrived at the restaurant. “Now, how about taking care of me?” He gave her a wolfish grin. “I need these stitches out.” At what had to have been her surprised look, he laughed. “Well, I guess I know where your mind was.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Doctor,” Maggie said with a huff as she left to find her suture removal kit.
As she worked at taking out the stitches in his hand, he aggravated her by blowing in her ear. Finished, she couldn’t help but glow under his praise in regard to what a fine job she’d done of sewing him up. She stood from where she’d been sitting on the footstool, planning to put her kit away, but Court caught her hand and pulled her onto his lap.
“Leave it. I want to say thank you.” His lips came down on hers.
Unable to resist, Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the sweet sensation of being in Court’s embrace. It would be moments like this that she would miss when she went home.
Court’s hand slipped under her top and covered her left breast, sending a burst of heat to her center. If she didn’t stop him now, she’d never be able to. Heartache lay down that path. She’d had enough of that in the past to last a lifetime. Maggie pushed against his shoulder. Court groaned his displeasure.
“I need to check on Neetie,” she said, climbing off Court’s lap, leaving him complaining about knowing how to mistreat a man.
Maggie had a gut feeling something wasn’t right with Neetie. She was pleased to find he wasn’t running a fever. Occasionally the boy groaned in his sleep but didn’t wake up. Yawning, Maggie lay down on the other twin-size bed and pulled a crocheted coverlet over her. She’d rest her eyes for a minute before she checked on Neetie again.
A swoosh of cool air hitting her skin awakened her. She was being lifted in strong arms she recognized and cradled against a firm chest. Court.
“What’re you doing?”
“Hush, you’ll wake Neetie.”
“Is something wrong? Let me down. I need to check on Neetie.”
“Yeah, there’s something wrong,” he grumbled. “You belong in my bed.” He nudged his bedroom door closed before placing her on the bed. “I checked Neetie. He’s fine.”
“You can’t just—”
He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Hush. You’re leaving soon.” His hand cupped her breast, caressed it as if he had all the time in the
world. “I need you.”
His sweet, beseeching words tore at her heart. She reached up and brought his head down to hers, kissing him with all the love and caring she felt but knowing this couldn’t last. “I need you too.”
Their lovemaking was the most poignant Maggie had ever experienced. Court was tender and caring, bringing her high and holding her there until she tumbled over onto a blissful cloud, before he started all over again. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. It was as if he wanted to memorize every nuance of her and brand his mark on her so that no other man could replace him. Their union had been slow, easy and stimulating, as if they were both grasping for something they couldn’t hold on to. Instead, it had her in its grip—she was hopelessly in love.
In the early hours of the morning Maggie slipped from under the heavy arm holding her, and then from the sheet. Court grumbled, rolled over and reached out as if hunting for her before settling again. Maggie pulled Court’s shirt over her head and padded down the hall on bare feet.
As soon as she entered Neetie’s room she knew something was wrong. Neetie was too still.
“Court!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
He hurried into the room, wearing nothing but his boxers. “What’s wrong?”
“Neetie. Something’s wrong.” She’d already pulled the covers back. “Neetie, can you hear me?” She shook him.
“I’ll get my bag,” Court said shortly, and left.
Going to the bathroom, she wet a cloth and started bathing Neetie’s face. She couldn’t swallow the lump of despair in her throat. He barely opened his eyes. Was she going to have to relive those days of panic and fear all over again?
Court returned and examined Neetie. “He needs to go to the hospital. You get his stuff together. He’ll need to be admitted. I’ll get dressed.” There were no words of reassurance for her, just crisp doctors’ orders.