The busyness of boiling the water and preparing the tea kept her mind occupied. When she sat to drink it, more memories threatened to assail her. And while she loved having them, she could deal with them only in increments. To distract herself, her mind returned to the alarming mystery of the man who had rescued her and taken her to the hospital. She remembered his reassuring words. His face was a blur, but if she ever heard his voice again or saw those strangely beautiful eyes, she would know him.
She had been in so much pain, so devastated by what was happening, she hadn’t had the presence of mind to question him. She’d just been grateful for his help. By the time he’d gotten her to the hospital, she’d been unconscious. Now, in the clear light of day, with all of her faculties, she had to admit it was downright creepy.
Had the man been outside and heard her scream? If so, he would have had to have been on the porch…or at the very least in the yard. And the alarm hadn’t gone off. Her mind might have been consumed with agony, but she would have remembered the blare of the security system. All she remembered were strong arms that had held her and a calm, masculine voice telling her to hold on, that she was going to be all right.
The hospital staff hadn’t been able to identify him. The nurse who’d met them with a gurney had said she’d paid little attention to him as her focus had been on Kennedy. She remembered a man with a tough, authoritative demeanor. That was it.
Even the security cameras at the hospital had been no help. All they’d shown was a tall, muscular, rather imposing man. He’d worn a baseball cap, and a black leather jacket had covered his big frame. The man had stayed long enough to see Kennedy deposited onto a stretcher. He’d been about to leave when another nurse stopped him. He had talked to her briefly and then had walked out the door. The cameras hadn’t been able to pick up any features. It was almost as if he had known where the cameras were and had avoided looking at them. He had wanted to hide his face.
The admitting nurse knew nothing other than he’d said he found Kennedy in the parking lot and had brought her inside. Her car had been found, parked haphazardly in front of the hospital. Blood had been on the driver’s seat. How had her car gotten to the hospital?
She shook her head at the mystery, suddenly too tired to think about it any longer. She hadn’t mentioned the incident to Nick and made a mental note to do so the next time she saw him.
She put away her mug and headed upstairs. First, she wanted to shower and then she would take a long nap. She told herself if she concentrated on the here and now, things would be less painful. She was almost convinced until she passed by the nursery. She hadn’t been inside it since she’d painted it—the night Thomas died. And now there was no reason to go into the room ever again.
Telling herself she shouldn’t, she twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door. She took a few steps inside. The lilac color really was pretty but she probably would have had to change it. Maybe to a light summer blue—the color of Thomas’s eyes.
A giant pink rabbit sat in the white rocking chair in the corner, its blank, lifeless eyes a reflection of her life. Agony hit her like a bowling ball had been thrown into her at warp speed. Her baby was gone. Thomas was gone.
With a howl of grief, she dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, wrapped her arms around herself, let anguish wash over her. Harsh, jagged shards of sounds erupted from her throat. She screamed, cried, shouted and cursed, wailing at the top of her lungs. She had lost her husband, her baby. God…Oh God, why? What had she done to deserve this kind of punishment? Why, dear Lord…why?
Curling up in a fetal position, Kennedy closed her eyes and allowed herself the grieving she’d been bottling up for days.
The clang of the hallway clock woke her.
She had been in so much pain, so devastated by what was happening, she hadn’t had the presence of mind to question him. She’d just been grateful for his help. By the time he’d gotten her to the hospital, she’d been unconscious. Now, in the clear light of day, with all of her faculties, she had to admit it was downright creepy.
Had the man been outside and heard her scream? If so, he would have had to have been on the porch…or at the very least in the yard. And the alarm hadn’t gone off. Her mind might have been consumed with agony, but she would have remembered the blare of the security system. All she remembered were strong arms that had held her and a calm, masculine voice telling her to hold on, that she was going to be all right.
The hospital staff hadn’t been able to identify him. The nurse who’d met them with a gurney had said she’d paid little attention to him as her focus had been on Kennedy. She remembered a man with a tough, authoritative demeanor. That was it.
Even the security cameras at the hospital had been no help. All they’d shown was a tall, muscular, rather imposing man. He’d worn a baseball cap, and a black leather jacket had covered his big frame. The man had stayed long enough to see Kennedy deposited onto a stretcher. He’d been about to leave when another nurse stopped him. He had talked to her briefly and then had walked out the door. The cameras hadn’t been able to pick up any features. It was almost as if he had known where the cameras were and had avoided looking at them. He had wanted to hide his face.
The admitting nurse knew nothing other than he’d said he found Kennedy in the parking lot and had brought her inside. Her car had been found, parked haphazardly in front of the hospital. Blood had been on the driver’s seat. How had her car gotten to the hospital?
She shook her head at the mystery, suddenly too tired to think about it any longer. She hadn’t mentioned the incident to Nick and made a mental note to do so the next time she saw him.
She put away her mug and headed upstairs. First, she wanted to shower and then she would take a long nap. She told herself if she concentrated on the here and now, things would be less painful. She was almost convinced until she passed by the nursery. She hadn’t been inside it since she’d painted it—the night Thomas died. And now there was no reason to go into the room ever again.
Telling herself she shouldn’t, she twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door. She took a few steps inside. The lilac color really was pretty but she probably would have had to change it. Maybe to a light summer blue—the color of Thomas’s eyes.
A giant pink rabbit sat in the white rocking chair in the corner, its blank, lifeless eyes a reflection of her life. Agony hit her like a bowling ball had been thrown into her at warp speed. Her baby was gone. Thomas was gone.
With a howl of grief, she dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, wrapped her arms around herself, let anguish wash over her. Harsh, jagged shards of sounds erupted from her throat. She screamed, cried, shouted and cursed, wailing at the top of her lungs. She had lost her husband, her baby. God…Oh God, why? What had she done to deserve this kind of punishment? Why, dear Lord…why?
Curling up in a fetal position, Kennedy closed her eyes and allowed herself the grieving she’d been bottling up for days.
The clang of the hallway clock woke her.
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