“Okay,” Davey sighed. “Come on, Mom. You need to sit down like Mitch said.” He reached for her hand.
She’d had enough of this hero worship. “Mitch doesn’t know what either one of us needs.”
The hurt look on Davey’s face made her feel churlish, but she was tired of Mitch’s high-handed manner. She’d had enough of men telling her how to live her life. “Excuse me, please. I’ll be in the other room.” Turning to go, she tripped again on the sheet and muttered furiously under her breath as she pulled it up from beneath her feet.
Amusement threaded through Mitch’s voice. “You want to borrow something else to put on?”
She didn’t want to see a smug look on his face. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ve got to bring in those clothes from outside and dry them in front of the fire. It could be a while.”
Her bare feet were already cold. Her legs had chill bumps from the draft where the sheet parted. But she still didn’t want to ask any more favors.
Until she looked down and saw that the increasing chill had puckered her nipples. Inhaling sharply, she pulled the sheet up over her breasts. She couldn’t stay huddled inside it all day.
With a proud toss of her head, she turned to face him, scrupulously polite. “I suppose that makes sense.” Even to her own ears, she sounded ungracious.
One dark eyebrow cocked.
“I apologize. I just—” Can’t lean on anyone else. Not any longer.
He didn’t comment, only waited for her to finish. Her discomfort increased.
Perrie shook her head, then rubbed her temple. “I’m not a very good patient. I’m used to being the caretaker, not the one who needs care.”
His eyes held what might be sympathy. “Don’t much like relying on others myself.” He dropped the wet shirt onto the counter and moved past her. “I’ll get you something.”
Davey walked over and took her hand. This time she didn’t balk. “Mitch is okay, Mom. He’s not like my dad.”
From the mouths of babes… She knelt before him, gripping his hand tightly and speaking softly. “Don’t get too attached, Davey. Mitch lives alone and he likes it that way.”
His chin jutted. “He likes me, Mom. I know he does.” Then he shrugged his shoulders and sighed deeply. “I don’t know why you two can’t get along better. You’re usually not like this with people.”
I’m usually not running for my life. Your life. But she’d never explained to him that they wouldn’t be going back home. How would he feel if he knew the true evil of which his father was capable? Just the tiny glimpse he’d had of Simon’s cruelty had scared him badly. Something inside Perrie balked at having to tell her beloved son that the man whose blood he shared was evil. Instead, she’d simply told him they would be staying with Grandpa Cy for a while, that though it very different from the city, it was a good, safe place.
She was spared a response when Mitch returned. She kissed Davey and whispered, “We’ll be okay.” Grasping the sheet firmly, she rose.
“It’s nothing fancy. I figured sweats would be the easiest thing to adjust to how much smaller you are.”
“They’ll be fine. I’m very grateful. If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll help you with the clothes on the line.”
“Your hair is still wet. Stay inside. Then you can give me your car keys and I’ll go get whatever you need.”
“Mitch, I can—”
He glanced back over his shoulder, frowning. “If it were Davey, you’d be telling him to go back to bed.” His gaze dared her to argue.
Suddenly, she felt the strength drain right out of her. She sighed. “You’re right. I just…”
His voice was oddly gentle. “Don’t like being a patient. I heard. But you have to rest to get well.”
What he didn’t say was even clearer to both of them. She needed to get well enough to leave.
But she had to hold to one point. “I am not getting back in that bed.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and reached for his jacket. When he opened the door, she could feel how much the temperature had dropped. He left without a backward glance.
Davey looked like he wanted to take her to task, ready to leap to Mitch’s defense.
“Not a word, young man.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’ll be right back.”
First Mitch moved more wood to the porch of the cabin. Good thing he’d been splitting extra. Looked like they would need it.
As he wheeled another load from the woodpile, his thoughts drifted to how he’d found her. She looked like a little girl playing dress-up, the sheet wrapped several times around her small frame, bare toes peeking from beneath it, her face with barely more color than the white cotton. He’d felt a strong urge to gather her up against him, to wrap his hands around those small feet and warm them.