coughing!”
Clearly, she was a crabby patient, he thought. He’d heard of this. She
had
coughed, though. “I think I’d better call a doctor—”
“No!” She shouted the word at him, the tray nearly tipping off her lap.
He rubbed his ear. “I’m not deaf. I was only making a suggestion, Catherine.”
She lay back wearily on the propped up pillows. “Go run your bank, Miles.
Please
.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”
She scowled at him, her eyes blazing.
“I guess not,” he muttered, getting up off the bed. He lifted the tray off her lap and set it on the nightstand for later. As he walked to the door, she called out to him.
“Miles.”
He turned around. She smiled faintly, looking pale and lovely and vulnerable.
“Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. Oh! I almost forgot. I’ve decided to help you find Allan’s codicil.”
She gasped. “You …”
He nodded, pleased to have surprised her. “Yes. I know some people I can call to track down that lawyer. Don’t you worry, Catherine. I’ll be in to see you tonight.”
He left her still gaping in astonishment. At least her mind was off the flu.
“More goodies from Dr. Kitteridge.”
Lettice waved a large white bag in the air as she swept into the bedroom. The name of the local pharmacy was emblazoned on the front. Catherine sighed and sank back on the bed. She hated playing invalid, but what else could she do?
Lettice opened the bag and spilled out ten differentover-the-counter remedies. She glanced at Catherine. “I think he’s trying to kill you.”
“No kidding,” Catherine muttered. He’d nearly given her heart attacks twice already that morning. The first time was when he’d showed up unexpectedly, and the second was over the codicil. What the hell did he mean, he would help her find it? Next to her uncle, he was the last person she thought would volunteer for such a thing.
He completely confused her. First, her disaster of an engagement didn’t receive a single ounce of sympathy, then the very next morning he practically broke down her door because he thought she was sick. She wondered if he was up to something with the codicil. If he was, it wasn’t to the good.
“Well, which poison do you want to take first?” Lettice asked.
Catherine didn’t even glance at them. “None. I’m not that sick, Lettice. It was only a reaction to an old allergy of mine last night, and this morning I have a touch of the flu. Miles just went … nuts.”
“Yes, I know, dear,” Lettice said, smiling in pleasure. “It’s very sweet of him.”
Catherine conceded that the woman was right. She never would have expected Miles to fuss the way he had. And that tray of food … Nearly everything on it was exactly the wrong thing to give someone with a stomach illness. One glance and it would have sent the poor soul reeling to the bathroom. She grinned.
“You look pleased.”
She sobered. “Just thinking. You don’t have to stay, Lettice. I’m perfectly fine by myself.”
“And have my grandson come down on me for going AWOL? In a pig’s eye!”
Well, Catherine thought, it had been worth a try. She wondered how her dam was doing. When Miles had been waiting downstairs for his grandmother to arrive, she had made her phone calls. Anonymously, of course. Mariana Tolliver of Channel Five news had jumped on the call from “Earth Angel.” What was happening there? Had everyone found the dam site? Were there enough pollutants already gathered? She desperately wanted to know. Her body was exhausted, but between the dam and Miles she was too keyed up to sleep. Besides, she had company that wasn’t going anywhere fast.
“How about a game of canasta?” Lettice asked, as if having read her mind. “A dollar a point.”
Catherine smiled. “You’re on.”
Miles saw Catherine much sooner than he’d expected.
He gaped at her as she strolled into the Wagner conference room for the second emergency meeting
Clearly, she was a crabby patient, he thought. He’d heard of this. She
had
coughed, though. “I think I’d better call a doctor—”
“No!” She shouted the word at him, the tray nearly tipping off her lap.
He rubbed his ear. “I’m not deaf. I was only making a suggestion, Catherine.”
She lay back wearily on the propped up pillows. “Go run your bank, Miles.
Please
.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”
She scowled at him, her eyes blazing.
“I guess not,” he muttered, getting up off the bed. He lifted the tray off her lap and set it on the nightstand for later. As he walked to the door, she called out to him.
“Miles.”
He turned around. She smiled faintly, looking pale and lovely and vulnerable.
“Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. Oh! I almost forgot. I’ve decided to help you find Allan’s codicil.”
She gasped. “You …”
He nodded, pleased to have surprised her. “Yes. I know some people I can call to track down that lawyer. Don’t you worry, Catherine. I’ll be in to see you tonight.”
He left her still gaping in astonishment. At least her mind was off the flu.
“More goodies from Dr. Kitteridge.”
Lettice waved a large white bag in the air as she swept into the bedroom. The name of the local pharmacy was emblazoned on the front. Catherine sighed and sank back on the bed. She hated playing invalid, but what else could she do?
Lettice opened the bag and spilled out ten differentover-the-counter remedies. She glanced at Catherine. “I think he’s trying to kill you.”
“No kidding,” Catherine muttered. He’d nearly given her heart attacks twice already that morning. The first time was when he’d showed up unexpectedly, and the second was over the codicil. What the hell did he mean, he would help her find it? Next to her uncle, he was the last person she thought would volunteer for such a thing.
He completely confused her. First, her disaster of an engagement didn’t receive a single ounce of sympathy, then the very next morning he practically broke down her door because he thought she was sick. She wondered if he was up to something with the codicil. If he was, it wasn’t to the good.
“Well, which poison do you want to take first?” Lettice asked.
Catherine didn’t even glance at them. “None. I’m not that sick, Lettice. It was only a reaction to an old allergy of mine last night, and this morning I have a touch of the flu. Miles just went … nuts.”
“Yes, I know, dear,” Lettice said, smiling in pleasure. “It’s very sweet of him.”
Catherine conceded that the woman was right. She never would have expected Miles to fuss the way he had. And that tray of food … Nearly everything on it was exactly the wrong thing to give someone with a stomach illness. One glance and it would have sent the poor soul reeling to the bathroom. She grinned.
“You look pleased.”
She sobered. “Just thinking. You don’t have to stay, Lettice. I’m perfectly fine by myself.”
“And have my grandson come down on me for going AWOL? In a pig’s eye!”
Well, Catherine thought, it had been worth a try. She wondered how her dam was doing. When Miles had been waiting downstairs for his grandmother to arrive, she had made her phone calls. Anonymously, of course. Mariana Tolliver of Channel Five news had jumped on the call from “Earth Angel.” What was happening there? Had everyone found the dam site? Were there enough pollutants already gathered? She desperately wanted to know. Her body was exhausted, but between the dam and Miles she was too keyed up to sleep. Besides, she had company that wasn’t going anywhere fast.
“How about a game of canasta?” Lettice asked, as if having read her mind. “A dollar a point.”
Catherine smiled. “You’re on.”
Miles saw Catherine much sooner than he’d expected.
He gaped at her as she strolled into the Wagner conference room for the second emergency meeting
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