Barbara Wallace - A Millionaire for Cinderella

“He was in the foyer meowing,” she continued. “Letting everyone know that his dinner was late. Near as I can guess, when Ana came down the stairs, he started weaving around her ankles, and she lost her balance.”

He raised a brow. “Near as you can guess?”

Okay, the man was definitely an attorney; Patience felt she was on trial with all the questions. Of course, that could also be her guilty conscience bothering her. “I was in the dining room polishing the silver. I heard Ana cry out, but by the time I got there, she was already on the floor.” She shuddered, remembering. The image of Ana crumpled at the foot of the stairs, moaning, wouldn’t leave her soon.

Ana’s nephew didn’t respond other than to stare long and hard in her direction before turning back to the admissions nurse. “I’d like to see my aunt, please,” he said. It might have been said softly, like a request, but there was no mistaking the command in his voice.

The nurse nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Finally, they were getting somewhere. “I’ve been trying to get an update on Ana’s condition since we arrived, but no one would tell me anything.”

“Nor would they,” he replied. “Privacy laws. You’re not family.”

Well, wasn’t somebody feeling territorial. Never mind that she was the one who’d brought Ana in and filled out the admissions paperwork. Anyone with two heads could see she cared about the woman. What difference did it make whether she was family or not?

She had to admit, Ana’s nephew wasn’t at all what she expected. Ana was always talking about how sweet “her Stuart” was. Such a pussycat, she’d coo after hanging up the phone. The man standing next to her wasn’t a pussy anything. He was far too predatory. She could practically smell the killer instinct.

Apparently, his singlar request was all they needed, because less than a minute passed before the door to the treatment area opened, and a resident in pale green scrubs stepped out.

“Mr. Duchenko?” He headed toward Stuart, but not, however, before giving Patience a quick once-over. Patience recognized the look. She folded her arms across her chest and pretended she didn’t notice. The trick, of course, was to avoid eye contact. Easy to do when the man wasn’t looking at your eyes to begin with.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” the doctor continued. “We were waiting for the results of your great-aunt’s CAT scan.”

“How is she?”

“She’s got a bimalleolar fracture of her left ankle.”

“Bi what?” Patience asked, her stomach tightening a bit. Hopefully the medical jargon sounded more serious than it actually was.

The doctor smiled. “Bimalleolar. Both the bone and her ligaments were injured.”

“Meaning what?” Stuart asked the same question she was thinking.

“Meaning she’s going to need surgery to stabilize the ankle.”

Surgery? Patience felt horrible. She should have been paying closer attention. “Is it risky?”

“At her age, anything involving anesthesia has a risk.”

“She’s in terrific health,” Patience told him, more to reassure herself than anything. “Most people think she’s a decade younger.”

“That’s good. The more active she is, the easier her recovery will be. You know, overall, she’s a lucky woman to have only broken her ankle. Falls at her age are extremely dangerous.”

“I know,” Stuart replied. For some reason he felt the need to punctuate the answer with a look in her direction. “May we see her?”

“She’s in exam room six,” the doctor replied. “We’ll be taking her upstairs shortly, but you’re welcome to sit with her in the meantime.”

Exam room six was really a curtained area on the far left-hand side of two rows of curtains. Stuart pulled back the curtain to find Ana tucked under a sheet while a nurse checking the flow of her IV. The soft beep-beep-beep of the machines filled the air. Seeing Ana lying so still with the wires protruding from the sleeve of her gown made Patience sick to her stomach. Normally, the woman was so lively it was easy to forget that she was eighty years old.

“We just administered a painkiller, so she might be a little out of things,” the nurse told them. “Don’t be alarmed if she sounds confused.”

Stuart stepped in first. Patience followed and found him standing by the head of Ana’s bed, his long tapered fingers brushing the hair from the elderly woman’s face. “Tetya? It’s me, Stuart.”

The gentle prodding in his voice reminded her of how she would wake her baby sister, Piper, before school. It surprised her. He honestly didn’t seem like the gentle type.

Ana’s eyelids fluttered open. She blinked, then broke into a drunken smile. “What are you doing here?”

“That fall-alert necklace you refuse to wear notifies me when 911 gets called. I was on my way back from the airport when I got a message.”

The smile grew a little wider. “Back? Does that mean you’re home for good?”

“It does.”

“I missed you, lapushka .”

“I missed you, too. How are you feeling?”

“Good, now you’re here.” Her gnarled hand patted his. “Is Nigel okay?”

“Nigel is fine.”

“He was a naughty boy. Make sure you tell him I’m disappointed in him.”

“I’ll let him know.” There was indulgence in his voice.

“Don’t make him feel too guilty. He didn’t mean it.” The older woman’s eyelids began to droop, sleep taking over once again. “He’s stubborn, like you.”

“You go ahead and get some sleep, Tetya. I’m back home now. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Such a good boy. Not at all like your grandfather, thank goodness.” She closed her eyes only to open them wide again. “Patience?”

Until then, Patience had lingered at the foot of the bed, not wanting to crowd Ana any more than necessary. Upon hearing her name, she drew closer. “Yes, Ana?”

“There you are,” Ana replied. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she said.

“Yes, I do,” the older woman insisted. “You take such good care of me.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Stuart shift his weight and felt the moment his gaze slid in her direction. She kept her attention on Ana and pretended she couldn’t see him. “I was only doing what any person would do. Now, why don’t you get some rest?”

“Take care of Nigel while I’m here?”

“I will.”

“Stuart, too.”

She assumed Ana meant for her nephew to help take care of Nigel. Either that or this was the confusion the nurse mentioned, because the man next to her definitely didn’t need taking care of. Certainly not from someone like her.

From the tick in his cheek, Stuart thought the same thing.

They stayed until a different nurse came to check Ana’s vitals. The small space was barely big enough for two visitors, let alone three, so Patience stepped outside. To her surprise, Stuart followed.

“You know what’s crazy?” she remarked. “That foolish cat causes her to break her ankle and he’s still going to get gourmet cat food for dinner.” A dinner that, she realized as she did the math in her head, was now several hours late. Hopefully he didn’t kick cat litter all over the kitchen floor in retaliation. Or worse, break her ankle.

Stuart was watching her again, his face as dour as before. Apparently drawing the exam room curtain closed off more than Ana’s bed. “Are you positive Nigel tripped Ana?” he asked.

That was dumb question. “Of course, I’m sure,” she replied. “I mean I don’t know for certain . But, it was dinnertime, and the cat does have this annoying habit of bothering the nearest warm body when he wants to eat. Why are you even asking?” Ana had already told him that the cat had caused the accident.