Melinda Curtis - Back to Eden

Rachel prayed he never would.

“It looks like you’re wearing a beanie on your head.” Blue eyes wide, Jenna made a circular motion with her hand around her crown. “Are you going to be like that forever?”

The noise Rachel hoped was a laugh sounded more like a donkey braying. “Of course not.” She wasn’t particularly vain, but she’d asked two nurses and the doctor the same thing.

“What’s the word on the Privateer?” Pop asked. “Can we salvage it?”

Hating to disappoint him, Rachel avoided his gaze. “There’s nothing left to salvage.”

“Did you wreck your plane?” Matt stuck out his lower lip. “Couldn’t you save her?”

“You did save the most important thing on board,” Pop said, squeezing Rachel’s hand. A veteran of many wars and a few crashes, her dad was probably fully aware of what she was going through—the doubts, the fear, the guilt over Danny’s death, the anger that she hadn’t been good enough to avert disaster.

And she still had Missy’s secrets to worry about.

“We’ll find an even better plane. I’ll call a couple of people when we get home.” Pop’s smile and words were meant to reassure.

But Rachel’s throat closed. She’d come close to cutting her life short, to letting them all down. How was she going to find the will to get in the air again?

Jenna stood at the foot of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. Missy’s daughter understood how close she’d come to losing Rachel. She was an old soul who’d seen too much sorrow for a ten-year-old.

Rachel flicked a finger over Matt’s nose, which elicited another smile from him. “I’m afraid we’ve lost her, Matt, but you’ve still got me.”

Oblivious to the emotions of those around him, Matt bounced against the mattress a couple of times. “I hope we get a really fast plane next time, because Pop says I can start flying when I’m ten.” His dark eyes sparkled with excitement.

Next time. Would there be a next plane? A next flight? There had to be. Flying was the only way Rachel knew to pay the bills and keep her family together. Flying was the only place where Rachel felt free.

If only Rachel’s heart didn’t pound a fearful beat at the thought of taking to the air.

“I NEED TO GIVE YOU instructions before you all leave.”

Lost in thoughts of Missy and what might have been if he’d just stayed in Eden or if someone had told him the truth earlier, Cole almost didn’t stop at the nurse’s station. “Instructions?”

“Yes.” The nurse eyed him as one would a misbehaving child. “Until the swelling in Miss Quinlan’s head goes down, she’ll be very unsteady on her feet. Don’t let her walk on her own.”

He was to be Rachel’s nursemaid? Rachel wasn’t going to be too happy about that. If only he could reclaim the easy relationship they’d had when they were younger. Then she’d let him help her. And maybe he could get her talking about Missy, which would help him understand what had happened. He knew that was the only way he’d be able to let go. It might also give him the answer as to what to do about Jenna and his parents.

Given the tragedy of his sister’s death and how that had sent his mother into a tailspin that she had yet to fully come out of… Well, showing up on his parents’ doorstep with someone who looked so much like Sally wasn’t an idea he’d even remotely consider. Custody, which he hadn’t even thought about until Jackson had brought it up, was not something Cole was looking for. So what did he want from this?

He wanted Missy. He wanted to go back to Eden, to a time when Missy had loved him and he’d felt as if he’d belonged to someone, to a family.

Too late. He’d blown his chance.

The nurse tapped the tip of a pen on the counter to reclaim his attention. “No unassisted walking. Not even to the bathroom. Every time her head rises above her feet, she’ll feel as if she’s just gotten off a roller coaster. That means even sitting can be a problem.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have a hand on her every time she so much as sits up.” Since Rachel needed such delicate care, she wouldn’t be able to send him away the moment they arrived back in Eden. In light of that, playing nursemaid was bearable.

“Be careful of her ribs when you help her up and down. Bruised ribs are no fun.”

Nodding, Cole rubbed his chest. He’d cracked a couple of ribs his first year as a Hot Shot when a tree he’d been trying to take down had nearly crushed him. He’d learned a lot about falling trees since then, and adopted a more conservative approach to life.

The nurse interrupted his meandering thoughts. “If you can’t wake her up, take her directly to the emergency room.”

That got his attention. Cole had never been around anyone recovering from a concussion before. He’d noticed Rachel’s head was swollen, but hadn’t realized the consequences of the injury lasted so long.

Poor thing.

Poor lying thing. He had to remember that she’d kept so much a secret from him all this time. Missy had been gone five years. Five years! The realization that he’d never see Missy again still turned his stomach, and yet, the fact that Missy had had so little faith in his love stung. Rachel hadn’t been the only lying Quinlan.

The nurse shifted into his line of vision. “When she gets home, she’ll need constant assistance and lots of sleep. Dressing will be a challenge, and things requiring a good bit of standing, like cooking, are out for at least a few weeks.”

As it became clear just what an invalid Rachel was, Cole felt a bit overwhelmed by the responsibility of it all. Wasn’t the nurse going to write any of this down?

“Nod if you understand,” the nurse said with a steely gaze.

Cole nodded slowly.

“It seems as if I can trust you, although after that episode yesterday, I’m not so sure.” She looked him up and down. “You won’t upset her, will you?”

Cole scratched the back of his neck. “You’ve seen what kind of patient she is. She doesn’t like sitting still or taking orders. Do you honestly think anyone caring for her won’t upset her?”

The nurse grinned. “All right, you’ll do. Let’s go get our patient.” She pushed the wheelchair briskly down the hall to Rachel’s room.

Cole hesitated. The time had come to face Rachel after the bluntness of her parting words. What would he have done if Missy had called him up and told him she was pregnant all those years ago?

Cole frowned. The past eleven years would have been different if he’d known about Jenna. A part of him felt guilty to have had such a good life, free of the responsibility and financial burden a child brought. Cole didn’t want to acknowledge that Rachel and Missy might have been right. He’d been itching to do things, to go out and tackle the world. A child, hell, even a wife, would have fenced him in.

He’d like to think he would have found a way to make things work with Missy, to create a home for her and the baby, to make peace with his mother, but the truth was Cole would have resented going back to Eden and taking up some mundane job at a gas station or grocery store. And Missy had made it clear she wasn’t leaving Eden. Cole lived for the outdoors and had come to love the risk and adrenaline rush of being a Hot Shot. If he’d known about Jenna their relationship would have been doomed.

“THIS IS ALL UNNECESSARY,” Rachel said as she eyed the wheelchair her nurse pushed into the room. She wasn’t that helpless.

Cole appeared in the doorway, glancing from Rachel to the wheelchair. Rachel tugged self-consciously at the wrinkled T-shirt her family had brought her and wondered if she could get rid of Cole before the others got back from the cafeteria. “I can walk out of here on my own.”