"God, have you and Ronan taken nagging pills or what? He's currently down the hall, harassing the nurses, trying to get them to make me stay."
Neva grinned. “I know. I passed him on the way up here."
"Then why didn't you tell him not to waste his breath?"
"Because it's his breath to waste and because that pretty blonde nurse was down there. She's rather keen on him, you know."
"No, I didn't, and nor should you."
Neva chuckled softly. “What's the good of a psychic talent if you can't put it to use occasionally? Ronan's too good a catch to keep playing the lone wolf."
Savannah wagged a finger at her. “Don't play matchmaking games. He'll sense it and get pissed off."
"You're no fun,” Neva muttered, the twinkle in her eyes suggesting the idea was neither gone nor forgotten. She levered herself off the bed. “You want a ride anywhere?"
"No. I need to stretch aching muscles."
"And here I thought the doc had ordered you to rest."
He had. And she would, once she was with Cade. “If you keep nagging me, I'll suggest to Duncan he take you back to the mansion and make you rest."
"Tart.” Neva waddled to her and lightly touched a hand to Savannah's cheek. “Let me know how things go."
"I will."
Once Neva had left, she walked over to the bed and opened the bag. Loose pants, a sweater and flip-flops. Not the most attractive outfit, but it was at least comfortable. And she doubted Cade would be too worried about what she was wearing.
She dressed and left the hospital—and a happy Ronan shamelessly flirting with the blonde nurse.
The day was one of those crisp autumn ones with lots of sunshine, and yet there was a touch of winter chill in the soft breeze. She paused on the bottom step and breathed deeply, clearing her lungs of the stale hospital air. Then she turned and walked to her lodge.
By the time she'd reached the bottom of the steep driveway, she was sweating and aching and calling herself all sorts of names for not accepting Neva's offer of a ride. The beating had sapped her strength more than she'd realized, and the driveway might as well be Mount Everest, for all the hope she had of climbing it right now.
But before she could call for help, Cade appeared, walking down the driveway towards her. She didn't move, just enjoyed the sight of him—enjoyed the play of sun across his lightly-tanned arms, the way his thigh muscles moved under his jeans, even the easy way he walked. But most of all, she enjoyed the way his navy gaze met hers, held hers, as if she were something so precious he feared to look away in case she disappeared.
"Need a hand?” he said, as he stopped in front of her.
She smiled. “Yeah. Overestimated my strength, I'm afraid."
"You should have called."
"I wanted to walk."
"And now you're regretting it."
"And now I'm regretting it,” she agreed.
A smile touched his lips, and he carefully picked her up and carried her back up the hill. She sighed in contentment and rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the soothing, steady beat of his heart.
She could have stayed there forever, listening to that beat.
"Been fixing a few things up,” he said, as they approached the lodge.
Her gaze skirted across the old building. At first glance, there didn't appear to be much difference than when she'd last seen it. Then she noticed that the front steps had been repaired, and the skeleton of a new roof had appeared over the damaged wing.
"So you have.” She met his gaze. “You didn't have to."
"Yes, I did.” He walked through the open front door, up the stairs and along the hall with the roof still intact. The air was fresh, filled with the sharpness of new paint. Not all the walls were painted, but most were at least patched. “But not for the reasons you think."