Long, Tall Texans_ Boone (Long, Tall Texans #35) - Diana Palmer Page 0,65

as she met his eyes.

“There are more of them,” he said stiffly, rising away from her. “A lot more—one that even took bone out of my thigh. When Misty saw me, in Germany, just after the bandages were removed, she ran out of the room. It’s a little less messy now, after some plastic surgery, but the scars are too deep to be permanently erased, and it’s noticeable. I don’t go shirtless anymore,” he added bitterly. “I haven’t for years.”

She felt the pain. She understood it. “I haven’t worn anything short-sleeved since I was thirteen years old,” she replied quietly. “When I was sixteen, a boy I liked asked me out on a date. He was just fumbling, you know, like boys will, but when he got my blouse half-off and saw the scars—they were fresh, then—he…” She closed her eyes. “He jerked the car door open and threw up. He was sorry, very sorry, but I was devastated. I knew, then, that I’d never have a normal life. I knew I’d never get married and have…have children…” Her voice broke and tears fell hotly onto her cheeks. She was weak and sick and in pain, or she’d never have let him see her devastation.

It affected him. He bent down again and drew his mouth over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. “Don’t,” he whispered huskily. “You’ve been so brave, Keely. I can’t bear to see you cry. Don’t, honey. Don’t.”

Now she knew she was dreaming. Boone had never called her a pet name, and he didn’t care if he hurt her. She closed her eyes, though, enjoying the dream. It was so sweet to have his breath on her lips, his mouth caressing her wet face, his deep voice murmuring sweet and impossible things.

The sound of the door opening stopped the dream, of course. Boone moved away and she was sure it had been her imagination. She’d been heavily sedated, after all, to compensate for the terrible pain. Boone’s expression was taciturn, as usual, and he didn’t look anything like a man who’d been whispering sweet endearments to her. Winnie and Clark came into the room, somber and worried, especially when they saw Keely’s face.

“You didn’t tell her?” Winnie asked angrily. “Coltrain said not to—”

“Tell me what?” Keely asked at once, dabbing her eyes with the sheet.

Winnie’s face contorted. Boone glared at her. So did Clark.

“Tell me what?” Keely demanded, belligerent now, as she looked from one guilty face to the other.

“I said I’d tell her when it was time,” Boone said shortly. “It’s not time.”

“Yes, but…” Winnie stopped, horrified, as the television, overhead, began with the lead story of the day’s news. The first bit was a photo of Ella Welsh and news about her murder. That was what she and Clark had rushed back into Keely’s room to tell him, because they knew the television had been on although turned down, so they could catch the evening news. They’d seen the beginning of this broadcast on the wall televisions as they passed through the waiting room. They hadn’t thought about the murder story being broadcast so soon.

Keely burst into fresh tears, almost hysterical.

“Damn that thing! Shut it off!” Boone shot at Clark as he started toward the call button next to Keely’s pillow. While Clark shut off the television, Boone pressed the button and asked the nurse to come in, before he bent to curl Keely’s face into his shoulder. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right. I’m so sorry. I never meant you to hear it like that!”

The nurse came in. Boone explained quietly what had just happened. The nurse grimaced and went to call Coltrain, who was, she explained, still making rounds.

The redheaded doctor was in the room scant minutes later. He ordered a sedative for Keely and waited until it took effect before he called the siblings out into the hall.

“It was the damned television,” Boone said angrily. “Why do you have those things in every room in the first place?”

“It wasn’t my idea, believe me,” Coltrain replied at once. “Keely’s going to have a hard recuperation if she has to go back to that house alone.”

“She won’t,” Boone said at once. “She’s coming home with us. I’ve already discussed it with Hayes Carson.”

“Good thinking,” Coltrain replied. He drew in a heavy breath. “I never expected that story to come out so soon. Hell, we don’t even have a local television broadcasting station in the county.”

“San Antonio is plenty close enough to pick the