assistance of a wheelchair.
“The man’s impossible,” the doctor muttered under his breath and went after him.
Silently echoing the sentiment, Sharon hurriedly gathered his dirty clothes from the closet and stuffed them into the open satchel on the bed. As she left the room, the orderly went by with the wheelchair. Ridge was halfway down the corridor, hugging the wall as he moved with obvious care.
When she caught up with the procession of patient, doctor, and orderly, the doctor’s insistence that Ridge sit in the wheelchair was falling on deaf ears. He kept putting one foot in front of the other as if he didn’t dare stop.
“Look, Doc—” Ridge stopped and leaned against the corner of an intersecting corridor “—I’m going to walk out of this hospital. Let thisguy follow me with the wheelchair and everybody pretend I’m sitting in it.”
The doctor looked at him for a long second, then swung away in disgust. “Follow him,” he told the orderly and walked off muttering to himself.
Half an hour had passed by the time Ridge signed for the hospital bill and collected his personal valuables. All the while Sharon stayed quietly in the background, slipping away once to have the prescription filled. Part of her admired the grit that was carrying him through the ordeal, while the rest of her was irritated by the sheer stupidity of his refusing all help.
When they left the office to head for the hospital exit, they found the orderly had momentarily stepped away, leaving the wheelchair unattended. Ridge was free to leave the hospital on his own. Ten feet from the door, he stopped and leaned heavily against the wall. There was a grayness to his face, weakness visibly clawing at him. His gaze flicked to Sharon.
“What are you hovering around for?” he muttered roughly.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen a real macho cowboy up close.” The corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. “You’re so big and brave. I thought it would be interesting to see how long you can keep it up.”
“Sharon.” Ridge spoke her name in a tone that tiredly appealed to her not to hassle him. He shut his eyes and let his shoulders slump. “Get the damned wheelchair.”
She went back for the wheelchair and held it steady while he gingerly lowered himself into it. There was a barely stifled moan that was bitten off, then he cradled his forehead in his hand as if he lacked the strength to hold his head up. Her fingers almost touched his shoulders in a sympathetic caress, but she curled them up tightly and pulled her hand back. Her gaze lingered on the corded muscles in his neck, testimony of his pain-wracked tension.
“Now where?” She made her voice sound falsely bright and watched him stiffen.
“Home,” he answered curtly.
“How do you plan to get there?” Sharon inquired innocently and tilted her head downward in smiling inquiry.
“Sharon, for God’s sake, will you take me home?” Ridge demanded impatiently.
“Oh? You want me to give you a ride home,” she said as if she had just discovered his intention.
“You know damned well I do,” he snapped.
At that point, Sharon had had her fill of his high-handed tactics. The full skirt of her dress swirled about her legs as she moved to the front of the wheelchair. Determination ruled her expression, making her gaze just as hard and unyielding as his.
“I’m not going to take you anywhere until we settle a few things,” she informed him. “First of all, you’re going to do exactly as the doctor ordered.”
“I’m not staying in this hospital.” An instant after the firm declaration was issued, an expressionflickered across his features that invisibly reached out to her with an irresistible poignancy. “I want to go home, Sharon,” he murmured, a touching ache in his voice that was nearly her undoing.
“And you’ll stay in bed for three days,” she added the second condition.
“Two days for sure,” Ridge grudgingly conceded.
“Three days,”
“The man’s impossible,” the doctor muttered under his breath and went after him.
Silently echoing the sentiment, Sharon hurriedly gathered his dirty clothes from the closet and stuffed them into the open satchel on the bed. As she left the room, the orderly went by with the wheelchair. Ridge was halfway down the corridor, hugging the wall as he moved with obvious care.
When she caught up with the procession of patient, doctor, and orderly, the doctor’s insistence that Ridge sit in the wheelchair was falling on deaf ears. He kept putting one foot in front of the other as if he didn’t dare stop.
“Look, Doc—” Ridge stopped and leaned against the corner of an intersecting corridor “—I’m going to walk out of this hospital. Let thisguy follow me with the wheelchair and everybody pretend I’m sitting in it.”
The doctor looked at him for a long second, then swung away in disgust. “Follow him,” he told the orderly and walked off muttering to himself.
Half an hour had passed by the time Ridge signed for the hospital bill and collected his personal valuables. All the while Sharon stayed quietly in the background, slipping away once to have the prescription filled. Part of her admired the grit that was carrying him through the ordeal, while the rest of her was irritated by the sheer stupidity of his refusing all help.
When they left the office to head for the hospital exit, they found the orderly had momentarily stepped away, leaving the wheelchair unattended. Ridge was free to leave the hospital on his own. Ten feet from the door, he stopped and leaned heavily against the wall. There was a grayness to his face, weakness visibly clawing at him. His gaze flicked to Sharon.
“What are you hovering around for?” he muttered roughly.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen a real macho cowboy up close.” The corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. “You’re so big and brave. I thought it would be interesting to see how long you can keep it up.”
“Sharon.” Ridge spoke her name in a tone that tiredly appealed to her not to hassle him. He shut his eyes and let his shoulders slump. “Get the damned wheelchair.”
She went back for the wheelchair and held it steady while he gingerly lowered himself into it. There was a barely stifled moan that was bitten off, then he cradled his forehead in his hand as if he lacked the strength to hold his head up. Her fingers almost touched his shoulders in a sympathetic caress, but she curled them up tightly and pulled her hand back. Her gaze lingered on the corded muscles in his neck, testimony of his pain-wracked tension.
“Now where?” She made her voice sound falsely bright and watched him stiffen.
“Home,” he answered curtly.
“How do you plan to get there?” Sharon inquired innocently and tilted her head downward in smiling inquiry.
“Sharon, for God’s sake, will you take me home?” Ridge demanded impatiently.
“Oh? You want me to give you a ride home,” she said as if she had just discovered his intention.
“You know damned well I do,” he snapped.
At that point, Sharon had had her fill of his high-handed tactics. The full skirt of her dress swirled about her legs as she moved to the front of the wheelchair. Determination ruled her expression, making her gaze just as hard and unyielding as his.
“I’m not going to take you anywhere until we settle a few things,” she informed him. “First of all, you’re going to do exactly as the doctor ordered.”
“I’m not staying in this hospital.” An instant after the firm declaration was issued, an expressionflickered across his features that invisibly reached out to her with an irresistible poignancy. “I want to go home, Sharon,” he murmured, a touching ache in his voice that was nearly her undoing.
“And you’ll stay in bed for three days,” she added the second condition.
“Two days for sure,” Ridge grudgingly conceded.
“Three days,”
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