Cole Read online

  “I’ll take you to the deck so you can sit in the sunlight, and we’ll look for him as we go.” She pushed him out to the deck where the sun was high enough to produce some good heat, but not be unbearable quite yet.

  There was no sign of Brock as they made their way to the far end of the deck. “Maybe you’re early.”

  “Maybe.” He kept twisting and turning in his seat to look for his buddy. “He said noon. He should be here by now.”

  Sandra understood how Cole felt. “Once he shows up, I can either fix a plate for you or you may want to see all the offerings on the buffet line. Let me know.” As she settled Cole at his chosen table, she heard someone call out.

  “Cole.”

  There was Brock, making his way over—smooth, agile, and stronger than Sandra had ever seen him before. She caught Cole’s reaction—the whisper of envy on his face—and felt a rush of sympathy for the man. She patted his shoulder. “Don’t forget. He’s been here for a few months now. You’ll get there.”

  He glanced at her and said in a low voice, “Well, I’d be damned happy if I end up looking like how Brock is now. He was more broken than I was.”

  Unbidden, a gentle smile made its way to her lips. His eyes held hurt and fear, and she was damned sure he wouldn’t want to know she’d seen either.

  “I’ll bet you on it. You follow your regimen and listen to your team, and it won’t be long before you’ll be like him.”

  Brock threw his arms around Cole and gave him a big hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you again.” He sat and stared at Cole, a big grin on his face. “Man, I was afraid you weren’t ever getting back to this place.”

  “So was I,” Cole admitted. “You don’t know how happy I am to be here.”

  Brock grabbed Cole’s hand. “This is the best place. You’ll be a whole different man by the time you’re done.”

  “I hope so. I was admiring how well you’re doing. I didn’t expect to see you looking so healthy and fit.”

  Brock laughed. “Well, there is the physical side, and there is also that lovely healed emotional side.”

  When he caught that particular grin on Brock’s face, Cole studied him for a moment. “Don’t tell me you’ve found a woman too?” He didn’t want to sound as shocked as he felt, but damn, he was shocked. He shook his head. “Only you, dude. You come to a place of healing for a bunch of broken-down old farts, and you end up with a partner. Talk about luck.”

  Sandra rolled her eyes at the macho banter and then watched Sidney walk toward them, carrying two cups of coffee. Sandra would be leaving Cole in good hands now with Brock and Sidney.

  Sidney stopped beside Brock and looked at Cole. “Ready for round two at Hathaway House?” No malice was in her voice, only sympathy and a touch of gentle teasing. She shared a telling look with Sandra.

  Cole winced visibly. “Could we forget about round one? That would be really good if we could.”

  Sidney put the two cups on the table and said, “Considering you’re Brock’s buddy, maybe. Maybe, just for you, we’ll let all that slide.” She faced him squarely. “You probably don’t remember me, but I’m Sidney.”

  Cole shook his head. “I don’t actually. Sorry.”

  Sandra looked at Sidney, a smirk on her lips. “He had just commented on the fact that Brock found a relationship in a place like this.”

  Sidney laughed, pink washing over her cheeks. “It was touch-and-go for a while there, but we made it.”

  Sandra saw the questioning expression on Cole’s face as his gaze went from Sidney to Brock and then back again. When he glanced at Sandra, she nodded. “Yes, it is possible.”

  He dropped his gaze to the wheelchair and his partial leg. “Maybe for some people.”

  Cole’s mutterings caught Sandra’s ear. She walked away then. Cole would need time to adjust. He also had to shake off some of his self-pity and his downcast attitude. Brock had done a lot of work to get into the condition he was in. It was important Cole saw that effort for what it was—effort he would have to put in himself, at a pace his own body could handle. There were no shortcuts to this.

  However, with Brock’s rehab months ahead of Cole, maybe he would use that as his inspiration to move forward. She certainly hoped so. Cole had the ability to completely turn around his life. This place had so much to offer, as he’d said. She’d like to see him ready to take on the challenge. But it was all about mind-set.

  His mind-set.

  She wasn’t sure he was there yet.

  Cole watched Sandra as she walked away. Her attitude had changed over the last few minutes. He hadn’t been as sure of his welcome when he had met her earlier. She’d been friendlier with Sidney and Brock. He remembered what she had said about his medications, and for the first time considered how not taking his medications might’ve affected more people than just him. He’d taken the physical hit … but maybe she had too in another way. Right. She had probably gotten into trouble.

  Goddammit. That was not what he wanted.

  No wonder she hadn’t been as friendly when she came to his room.

  “Hey, buddy, what are you thinking about?”

  He turned his attention to Brock. Bigger than life and looking like he had a whole new lease on it.

  “You are looking incredibly well.” Cole shook his head. “I hope my recovery is just as good.”

  “It will be, but it’s not easy. You’ve got to put in the work but not overdo it. Find the right balance.” Brock grinned at him. “And having Sidney as my trainer didn’t hurt.”

  “Hey, I’m not a personal trainer. I’m a physiotherapist,” she said to Brock. Then turning to Cole, she added, “He likes to put me into the gym-model role regardless.” She shook her head. “Talk about demeaning, Brock.” Her light and happy tone belied her words. Sidney rose then. “You guys can talk all you want, but I’m hungry. And I’ve got to get back to work in an hour. Time to get some food.”

  Cole watched as she walked away. “Hot damn, Brock. She’s dynamite.”

  Brock settled back with a satisfied smile on his face. “Yes, she is. But believe me, it’s more than just looks. She’s got a huge heart, and it’s all mine.”

  “You are one lucky guy.”

  “Lots of women are here. Maybe you’ll find one for yourself.” Brock looked toward the buffet. “Sidney is right. We need food.” He hopped to his feet. “Are you freewheeling, or do you want a hand?”

  In that moment—that one sentence with no judgment, only acceptance—he knew Brock did understand what Cole had gone through and what he still had to go through. And he knew Brock wouldn’t judge him for not getting there on his own.

  “If I want to stay on Dani’s and Sandra’s and Sidney’s good sides, then I could use a hand. I promised I’d do as little as possible this morning,” he admitted. “And that includes wheeling myself around here.”

  Brock chuckled. “It’s important to not get on anyone’s bad side here,” he said. “Come on. Let me do the honors. You’ll be running around this place in no time.”

  “Lord, I hope so. I’m just worried about doing too much again only to land in the hospital.” He lowered his voice. “You said it yourself. You were afraid I wouldn’t return. Well, I’m terrified that, with one wrong move, I’ll be kicked out of here forever,” he admitted.

  “That would suck,” Brock said, his voice equally low. “So we have to make sure you start the right way and build on that. These are good people here. Give them a chance. They’ll do right by you.”

  Chapter 3

  Sandra heard the last part of Brock’s advice. She hadn’t planned on sitting so close to them, but by the time she had filled her lunch plate and had found a table of her own, there wasn’t much choice. She had been forced to sit closer to them than she’d wanted, and their voices carried. Still, it was good advice Brock had handed out. Hopefully Cole would use it. She could see he had the makings of a decent, and probably wise, man. Everybody was out of their comfort zone when it came to majo
r health issues. How people reacted during a crisis said a lot about who they were inside.

  She’d seen grown men cry in despair, and other men showed such inner strength and character through their adversity. This place had it all. Yet, what you arrived with didn’t mean that was what you were stuck with. Being here transformed people, or rather they transformed themselves. The patients had a lot of support at Hathaway House, but it was up to them to take the required steps. That was what she wanted for Cole. Originally Brock had been one angry person too. Then Sidney had gotten hold of him. Even before they had started their relationship, she’d shown him what he could do if he put his mind to it.

  That was the difference, having an entire team working on a patient’s care, and Sandra was a part of Cole’s team. She wasn’t a therapist—she wasn’t someone who had an active hands-on role to play. She was a nurse. She came to see people on a daily basis, but she was one of a lot of people not just working with one or two patients. Three permanent full-time nurses were on staff, and then they had several aides who came in on a part-time basis and that was just the day shift. Everyone still had plenty of work. There were dressings to be changed and stitches to be checked, and there were often catheters and other various physical issues to be attended to. She was happy to do it. She enjoyed her work.

  The medication rounds gave her nightmares now. Amazing how one incident, such as Cole’s, was enough to underscore she’d not been as diligent as she should’ve been. She was lucky that something much worse hadn’t happened before. Now it woke her up in the middle the night, chilled and sweating, the “what ifs” running endlessly through her mind.

  When she was alone and in the dark, and no one else was around to hear, she often found herself crying in fear. She never wanted to be responsible for the deterioration of somebody’s health. She was always extremely careful with her medication distribution. It was one of the areas that had been really impressed on her throughout her training. She’d had a mentor through all the years she’d worked in hospitals, and they’d always stressed the same thing. She’d been here for four, maybe five years now, and a situation like that had never come up—until Cole.

  Oh, she’d had her own various struggles. She’d had people who argued with her, not wanting to take a specific medication. That was fine. She had them talk to their doctor. She only adjusted the medications as per the doctor’s instructions.

  But to have someone, like Cole, deliberately fake taking his medication to avoid letting anybody know what he was doing—well, that was scary. She hoped he’d learned his lesson, and she knew she certainly had. These days her rounds took longer because she waited for people to swallow their medication in her presence. Several had commented on it. She half expected somebody to complain, but so far, nobody had—or none that she’d heard of.

  The complaints may have stopped at Dani’s door. Sandra should probably find out. Better to know up front than to wait for a second complaint to come through.

  She finished off her lunch, having successfully blocked out the rest of Brock and Cole’s conversation, and carried her dishes to the busboy’s cart. She smiled at Dennis, one of the kitchen staff, standing near the buffet. “Dennis, that was absolutely fantastic. I’m all for Greek food every week.”

  “You’re not the first to say that.”

  “How about we go global? Take a two-week period and pick a country and then do something different every day?”

  He laughed. “I can mention it to the chefs, but they’ve got their own ideas too. Although I honestly think you will like what they’ve got planned.”

  “I know I will. What you guys end up doing is awesome.” With a smile, she picked up a cup of coffee, snagged a cinnamon bun—which she didn’t need but couldn’t resist—and headed toward Dani’s office.

  Dani looked up and smiled. “Hey, Sandra, how are you doing?” Her gaze dropped to the cinnamon bun. “Oh, my God, that looks absolutely fantastic.”

  “I know, but it’s way too damned big.” She asked Dani, “You want half?”

  Dani glanced at her, then back at the cinnamon bun wistfully. “I shouldn’t …”

  Sandra stepped in, closing the door behind her with her foot. “Neither should I.” She sat, split apart the cinnamon bun and picked up her half, nudging the plate closer toward Dani. The two women sat in secret enjoyment and polished off the treat.

  “By the way, the Greek lunch today was absolutely divine,” Sandra said.

  “It was, wasn’t it?” Dani licked her fingers and then reached for her coffee cup to help wash down the dessert. “I wanted that bite of something sweet. Thank you.” Dani focused on Sandra, her eyebrows raised. “Is there a problem? Did you need to talk to me about something?”

  Sandra shook her head. “No problem. I wondered if there had been any complaints about me.”

  Dani’s expression turned to surprise. “No. Should there be?”

  “I guess I deserved that.” Sandra laughed and reached for a napkin on the desk to wipe her fingers. “Since Cole’s slip … I stand by to ensure patients actually take their medication now.” She shrugged. “I felt horribly guilty when he deteriorated so quickly. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on.”

  “That wasn’t your fault though,” Dani said. “Cole brought that on himself.”

  Sandra nodded. “Oh, I totally agree. But it doesn’t make me feel any less responsible.”

  Dani tossed her pen on her desk and leaned back in her chair. “That’s the thing about living at this place. We’re not responsible for everyone else’s actions. We live with these people. We watch their growth. We see their failures. It’s damned difficult sometimes.” She stared out the window. “Learning to separate guilt and responsibility, placing it firmly on the head of the person where it belongs, can be a challenge.”

  “I agree. I just wondered about any complaints,” Sandra confessed. “I try to be super nice about it. I bustle around to make myself useful, but I am always watching like an eagle to make sure they pop those pills. A couple people have commented on it.”

  “Have they? Well, they don’t appear to mind that much because nobody’s been to see me.” Dani sank in her chair a little deeper. “Most patients here are very amiable. Every now and again, we’ll get somebody who’s much less so, but so far, I haven’t heard any complaints.”

  Sandra bounced to her feet and picked up the empty plate off Dani’s desk, relief flooding her body. “That’s good to hear. I won’t pester you any longer. Have a nice afternoon.”

  “You too,” Dani said. “Thanks for the treat.”

  With a big smile on her face, Sandra headed back to her office, feeling much better until she found Kenneth, one of the more troublesome patients, in the staff offices, studying the whiteboard with this week’s schedules. What Cole did was harmful to himself. But what Kenneth did was harmful to others.

  “Kenneth,” Sandra said, “you are not allowed back here. This is for medical personnel only. The door is clearly marked.”

  “You have a weekend off coming up. I’ll take you to town for dinner, a movie … a nightcap. Breakfast on Sunday morning.”

  “No, Kenneth. I don’t date patients.”

  Thank God Shane showed up right then as Kenneth did not take her rejection well. Shane seemed to understand what was going on. He patted Sandra’s back but his focus was on Kenneth. Motioning toward the door, Shane said, “We’ve talked about this before, Kenneth. Your lack of respect for boundaries. Your inappropriate behavior with the female staff.”

  “It’s not like that,” Kenneth said. “Sandra and I are dating.”

  “Stop it,” Shane said with authority, his voice loud.

  “Kenneth, that’s a lie. We are not dating,” Sandra said, happy to hear more footsteps coming their way.

  “Like I told you before, Kenneth, only male staff will interact with you because of your treatment of the female medical personnel here. Now I’ll have to report this latest incident to Dani.” Shane sh
ook his head. “This was your second strike. If you continue with these unacceptable actions, you’ll be banned from Hathaway House.”

  By this time Dani and Stan and a couple male orderlies had appeared.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Kenneth shouted as he was led away.

  Sandra shuddered. Kenneth was the one patient in hundreds that was difficult. And all because he wouldn’t follow the rules. She couldn’t wait until he left.

  “I think I’ve shown you everything on the top floor.” Brock stopped and stepped slightly in front of Cole. “Are you up for more? I can take you downstairs and show you the vet’s clinic and out by the pool, or I could take you back to your room.”

  Cole tried to assess his condition. “I am a little tired, but I’d love to go downstairs. If I can see it all today, that will give me something to work toward. I saw a little the first time, but I’d been so focused on getting better I never paid any attention to my surroundings.”

  “Good enough.” Brock pointed the wheelchair at the elevators. After he pressed the button, one of the elevator doors opened immediately. He pushed Cole inside and sent the elevator down again.

  “There are stairs here too for your use later in your recovery,” Brock said. “A challenge you can set for yourself is to make it to the animals or the pool on your own power.”

  Cole chuckled. “I like the way you think. I should get a notebook or something, so I can write down some of these ideas.”

  “If you don’t have one, Dani’s got some she keeps in a filing cabinet.”

  “I hate to ask.”

  “If you have a problem asking, I’ll get you one.”

  The double doors opened, and Brock wheeled Cole from the elevator. “We’ll take a right and go to the veterinary clinic. Probably a couple human patients are inside and easily a dozen furry ones. Everybody, patients and medical staff alike, come here whenever we need that connection. You like animals, don’t you, Cole?”

  “Absolutely, especially dogs.” Cole watched with interest as they entered the veterinary clinic’s waiting room.