Sharon insisted. “And I’ll be there to make sure you do. Do I have your word on it?” She saw his hesitation. “I’m warning you, Ridge. I’ll walk away right now and leave you sitting here in this wheelchair.”
An angry frown darkened his brow. “I’ll call somebody else to come pick me up.”
“And I’ll convince them that you should stay in the hospital for your own good,” she retorted, continuing to challenge him with the steadiness of her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the orderly approaching.
A brief spark of admiration glimmered in his eyes, although his mouth remained grimly drawn. “I’m in no shape to argue with you,” Ridge replied.
“I have your word?”
“Yes,” he grudgingly gave in.
Her expression softened with inner relief. “Wait here while I drive the car up to the door.” She smiled at the orderly who was very careful to say nothing about finding Ridge in the wheelchair. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Chapter Five
The ranch appeared to be deserted when Sharon stopped the car in front of the sprawling, single-story ranch house. A golden twilight was throwing long shadows over the land and casting a yellow tinge over the buildings.
Climbing out of the car, she walked around to the passenger side to help Ridge. After he’d taken one step, she could tell he was too exhausted and weak to walk all the way to the house under his own power. She took his arm and put it around her shoulders, trying to help him without adding to his pain.
“You’d better lean on me,” she advised him.
Her quick glance at his face was caught and held by his half-veiled look, so lazy and warm. There was even the suggestion of a smile around his mouth. She became conscious of the heat of his body running the length of hers, the closeness of his leanly handsome features, and the caressing warmth of his breath. A disturbance started in the pit of her stomach.
“It seems that’s all I’ve been doing is leaning on you,”Ridge murmured while his eyes made a slow, roaming study of her upturned face. “I leaned on you all the way to the hospital—and here I am, leaning on you again.”
“I know it’s hard on the male ego, but you’ll survive.” She was having trouble breathing evenly, so she tried to make light of his comments.
“It would be easier if you were softer.” Ridge shifted his position slightly to keep her shoulder bone from poking him in the side.
It was the break Sharon needed to regain control of the situation. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
With slow, measured steps, she helped him into the house, entering into it through the living room. His bedroom was the first door off the hallway. Like the rest of the house, it was Spartarnly furnished. His mother had died some years ago and the house was beginning to lose the traces of a woman’s touch. Except for an odd vase or two, most of the flat surfaces were bare of adornment—an indication of a man’s impatience to pick up things when he dusted. Ashtrays, lamps, radios, and clocks were practically all the movable items.
Ridge sat on the edge of his bed while Sharon plumped the pillows, one atop the other, so he could rest against them. Holding himself very carefully, he shifted to lie on top of the chenille bedspread fully clothed.
“I’ll go out to the car and get your things,” she said and started to leave the room.
“When you come back—” his eyes remained closed as he spoke “—would you bring me a packof cigarettes from the kitchen? They took mine away from me at the hospital. I sure could use a smoke.” The last was murmured in a tired sigh.
“Sure.”
Without saying more, Sharon quietly withdrew from the room and retraced her steps to the car. Returning to the house with the satchel, she paused in the spacious kitchen long enough to take a pack of cigarettes from the carton on top of the refrigerator.
When she returned to his bedroom, it didn’t appear that Ridge had moved an inch
An angry frown darkened his brow. “I’ll call somebody else to come pick me up.”
“And I’ll convince them that you should stay in the hospital for your own good,” she retorted, continuing to challenge him with the steadiness of her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the orderly approaching.
A brief spark of admiration glimmered in his eyes, although his mouth remained grimly drawn. “I’m in no shape to argue with you,” Ridge replied.
“I have your word?”
“Yes,” he grudgingly gave in.
Her expression softened with inner relief. “Wait here while I drive the car up to the door.” She smiled at the orderly who was very careful to say nothing about finding Ridge in the wheelchair. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Chapter Five
The ranch appeared to be deserted when Sharon stopped the car in front of the sprawling, single-story ranch house. A golden twilight was throwing long shadows over the land and casting a yellow tinge over the buildings.
Climbing out of the car, she walked around to the passenger side to help Ridge. After he’d taken one step, she could tell he was too exhausted and weak to walk all the way to the house under his own power. She took his arm and put it around her shoulders, trying to help him without adding to his pain.
“You’d better lean on me,” she advised him.
Her quick glance at his face was caught and held by his half-veiled look, so lazy and warm. There was even the suggestion of a smile around his mouth. She became conscious of the heat of his body running the length of hers, the closeness of his leanly handsome features, and the caressing warmth of his breath. A disturbance started in the pit of her stomach.
“It seems that’s all I’ve been doing is leaning on you,”Ridge murmured while his eyes made a slow, roaming study of her upturned face. “I leaned on you all the way to the hospital—and here I am, leaning on you again.”
“I know it’s hard on the male ego, but you’ll survive.” She was having trouble breathing evenly, so she tried to make light of his comments.
“It would be easier if you were softer.” Ridge shifted his position slightly to keep her shoulder bone from poking him in the side.
It was the break Sharon needed to regain control of the situation. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
With slow, measured steps, she helped him into the house, entering into it through the living room. His bedroom was the first door off the hallway. Like the rest of the house, it was Spartarnly furnished. His mother had died some years ago and the house was beginning to lose the traces of a woman’s touch. Except for an odd vase or two, most of the flat surfaces were bare of adornment—an indication of a man’s impatience to pick up things when he dusted. Ashtrays, lamps, radios, and clocks were practically all the movable items.
Ridge sat on the edge of his bed while Sharon plumped the pillows, one atop the other, so he could rest against them. Holding himself very carefully, he shifted to lie on top of the chenille bedspread fully clothed.
“I’ll go out to the car and get your things,” she said and started to leave the room.
“When you come back—” his eyes remained closed as he spoke “—would you bring me a packof cigarettes from the kitchen? They took mine away from me at the hospital. I sure could use a smoke.” The last was murmured in a tired sigh.
“Sure.”
Without saying more, Sharon quietly withdrew from the room and retraced her steps to the car. Returning to the house with the satchel, she paused in the spacious kitchen long enough to take a pack of cigarettes from the carton on top of the refrigerator.
When she returned to his bedroom, it didn’t appear that Ridge had moved an inch
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