“It’s a big dressing,” the nurse said lightly. “Doctors are notorious for bulky dressings. The rest of your face is perfect, not a scratch.”
“I don’t believe you! I want to see it.” Casey’s voice rose in panic. Dread lay heavy within her.
“I don’t have a mirror. You’ll have to take my word for it. Dr. Masters will be in to see you soon and no doubt Mr. Murdock will be here, too. Would you like more water?”
Casey closed her eyes and turned her face away.
Tears rolled from beneath her swollen lids and wet the pillow beneath her cheek. She felt old, broken, as though her life had come to an end. How could she possibly conduct a beauty seminar with a scarred face and hands? She’d spent seven years with Allure Cosmetics and was one of their top consultants. Neil Hamilton, her boss and president of the company, was a perfectionist. He’d told her many times it was her flawless complexion, her poise and confidence that made her so much in demand as a demonstrator.
Life had been a struggle ever since she could remember. Her father and mother had divorced when she was small, and her mother died suddenly when she was a senior in high school. After that it had been one job after another until she went to work in the cosmetic section of a large department store. It was while working there that she came in contact with Allure beauty products. Now seven years later she was back to square one, but this time with a handicap.
Casey never had a great opinion of herself, but others admired her for her sweet nature, her sturdy personality and her beauty. Tall, five foot nine, and willowy, she wore her heavy honey-gold hair in a loose, casual style reaching to shoulder length. Her eyebrows and lashes were naturally darker, and her eyes a clear tawny gold harmonizing with her hair. Her face was a perfect oval with a small fine nose and full soft lips. Casey knew the contentment of being satisfied with herself.
Her father came back into her life four years ago and any resentment she felt toward him for not being there when she was young faded when she realized he was a weaker, less secure person than she, for all his handsome, gallant ways. A handsome rogue. That’s the way she thought of him, and it was no wonder her mother had loved him so desperately.
“Miss Farrow … are you all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m all right.” Casey tried to sound more “all right” than she was.
“You’re coming along nicely. The doctor did a wonderful job putting you back together.”
Casey rolled her head on the pillow. She looked frightened and helpless, but resentful, too. “Please don’t tell me that again. I’m sure the doctor did his best.”
Later the young nurse with the peachy complexion left and a fat matronly woman took her place. The tubes were removed from Casey’s arm and the bottle rolled out of sight. Casey lay quietly, her thoughts as painful as her injuries. What would she do? Would there be a position available at Allure that didn’t require meeting the public? She knew nothing about office work. Demonstrating was her field. Would Neil employ her now that she was no longer a walking advertisement for his company?
The doctor came in and stood at the foot of the bed. He wore a gown and a mask dangled from a cord around his neck. His eyes looked kindly behind horn-rimmed glasses.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Masters.”
“You’re the one who did the wonderful job.” The words rolled out and Casey was surprised at how bitter she sounded.
“Not exactly wonderful, but we did get all the holes closed.” The doctor sounded merciless, and Casey hated him. He moved around to the side of the bed and sat down. The nurse silently left the room.
“I’ve asked for a mirror, but they won’t give me one.” Her eyes were full of tears again. She couldn’t seem to stop crying.
“You won’t be able to see anything until I remove the dressing in a few days. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“How … bad is it?” They were the hardest words she ever had to say.
“It could be much worse. I just told a young woman her leg’s coming off in the morning and a father of two that he won’t live to see his third child born.” Casey turned her face away. The doctor sighed. “You have a deep laceration that starts at the hairline above your right eye and curves around the side of your face. Part of the flesh was cut away, and … a good part of your right ear lobe….” Casey rolled her head toward him and an endless sob burst from her. “It will be a few months before any more work can be done. But, it’s my opinion that a specialist in plastic surgery will be able to repair your face and ear.” The doctor sounded firm and impersonal.
“And the … rest of me?” Casey had to know. “My hands?”
“You’ll have full use of your hands. No tendons were cut.”
“But the scars …”
“They’ll fade a great deal in time.”
Casey realized there was a different look in his eyes. He was impatient with her. But dammit! He used his hands to make a living, the same as she did!
“You probably think I’m vain, Doctor, but my hands and face are important in my line of work. I’m a demonstrator for a cosmetic firm and …” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say aloud that seven years of work had ended.
The doctor stood. “I understand, Miss Farrow.” His eyes were kinder, now. “Mr. Murdock insisted we bring in Dr. Clemons, who comes well recommended as one of the top men in his field. You may want to talk to him about your breast. He—”
“My breast?”
“We did the best we could, but—”
“But, what?” The even tone of his voice was driving her crazy.
“It was cut deeply by the flying glass.”
“Oh, God! Oh, God, what else?” Casey turned her head from side to side in a sharp frantic motion. She retched as though to throw up, but nothing came.
“You’re very lucky to be alive. Murdock got you here just in time or you’d have bled to death.” His
voice was very professional, as if he was trying hard not to compare her loss with that of the girl who’d lose her leg in the morning.
“Thank you for telling me … everything,” Casey said in a softly resigned voice. It didn’t occur to her to ask about the man who saved her life. That thought would come to her later.
The lights in the room were dim. The nurse sat in the chair beside the door, quiet after Casey refused to be drawn into conversation. She had been given a pain pill, but refused the medication that would make her sleep. She had always been very health conscious. Good food, exercise and as few drugs as possible were the basis of her philosophy for keeping fit.
When the light tap on the door reached her, Casey didn’t bother to turn her head. She had watched the sky gradually darken and now lights from the street below reflected on the window. That time of day between sundown and dusk was a depressing time of day for her. It was the time of day that families gathered. She had no family except Eddie, her father. He came and went with a constant succession of women, but she learned to turn a blind eye, realizing that neither they nor anything else meant more to him than the pleasure of the moment. The twilight hours signaled that the day was over. Casey hated the ending of anything.
The door closed softly. She turned her head. The nurse had stepped outside. Good. She had told
her repeatedly during the last few hours that she didn’t have to stay with her, but the woman had stated firmly that she had been instructed not to leave the room. Casey had responded with the fact that her insurance didn’t cover private nursing. The woman had shrugged her heavy shoulders and refused to argue the point.
The door opened and Casey groaned inwardly. Her moments alone had been few. A man came into the room and closed the door behind him. Casey’s eyes focused on the tall, dark-haired figure that came to stand beside the bed.
There was a curious silence as though neither of them knew what to say, he staring down at her, she up at him.
Casey slowly absorbed his height, his wide shoulders, the soft white, open-necked shirt tucked neatly into dark trousers. It was difficult for her to decide if he was handsome or not. He might have been, at one time, before he had done whatever it was that rearranged his features into the rugged, slightly battered pattern. His hair was nearly black and so were his eyes, a dark, dark gray—dark as flint Casey decided. They looked right into her as if to read her every thought. He looked more like a lumberjack than a doctor, yet he must be one.
“Are you the doctor who’s going to put me back together?” she asked at last.
“No. I’m Dan Murdock.”
The voice jerked her to attention before the name registered. This was the voice that soothed
her, brought her back from panicsville when she awoke with her eyes bandaged. She lifted her large velvety tawny-gold eyes, the thick dark lashes curling back from them and leaving them very wide.
“Who are you?” she asked without inflection.
He looked at her thoughtfully. “May I sit down?”
She nodded, surprised that he asked. Her eyes followed him when he went to get the chair beside the door. He really was a monolith of a man, she thought. Everything about him fit perfectly—his voice, eyes, the way he moved.
He treaded softly across the room with the chair, placed it beside the bed and eased his bulk down into it. He sat there, a knee crossed over, one booted foot swinging in her angle of vision. He was waiting with a patience that was deliberate, tangible.
“Are you going to tell me who you are?” Casey said in brittle tones. “No. Let me guess. You’re my insurance adjuster.”
“Wrong. I’m the man who ran into the back of your car and pushed it into the truck carrying windows.” The gray eyes watched her for some sign of an emotional upheaval.
“What am I suppose to say? Thanks for ruining my life?” she said evenly.
“I want you to know, Casey, that I was driving carefully that night, and that I didn’t see your car until seconds before I hit it. There must have been
a cloud of dense fog that blotted out the taillights on your car.”
“The fog was terribly thick,” she said in a careful tone. “I was just creeping along.” She had been warned to stay off the highway, but in spite of the warning she had driven down to Newberg to speak to a class graduating from beauty school. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have been on the highway. But neither should you.” Dammit! From the looks of him he’d come out of the accident without a scratch. Let him carry some of the blame.
“If one of us had used a little more sense the accident wouldn’t have happened.”
Casey looked at him and wondered if he had ever fought for anything. Had life given him all he wanted? She wished he would leave. Tears threatened to engulf her at any minute, but under his appraisal she refused to give in to them.
“Are you wondering if I’m going to sue you?” What had made her ask such a thing?
“I hadn’t thought about it. Are you?”
Embarrassed, she closed her eyes for a moment, opened them and stared into his. “No.” Tears slid down her cheeks and she was unable to stem the flood.
“Your father will be here in a day or two. I found him in Seattle. He’d have been here today, but the Seattle airport was fogged in.”
“It was kind of you. Has my employer been notified?”
“Yes. I talked with him on the phone. He’s leaving
today for Los Angeles, but said he’d be in to see you as soon as he returns.” Her lids flickered as she tried to regain her composure. “Your car was towed in, that is, what was left of it. I’m afraid there wasn’t much to salvage. We were lucky to find your purse and identification.”
“Why are you doing these things for me? You said the accident wasn’t your fault.” She stared with bewilderment at his hard-boned face. His eyes, half-veiled by heavy lids, stared back into hers.
“I’m doing it because I want to, Casey.” His bluntness surprised her. She looked at him with new interest as he pulled a soft handkerchief out of his pocket and put it in her hand. “Can you manage?” he asked softly. His voice was so like the voice that had come out of the darkness to reassure her the night she came to after the accident that she almost cried again, but she didn’t. She wiped her nose, holding the handkerchief clumsily. He took it from her hand. “Let me.” He gently wiped her eyes, then her nose, and the tenderness of the gesture caused her to feel, for a moment … cherished.
’The doctor said you saved my life by bringing me to the hospital yourself. Thank you.”
He smiled, his eyes faintly teasing. “You’re welcome. Did he tell you that you have some of my blood in your veins? Luckily your blood type was on your identification card and it’s the same as mine. It saved time.”
“I’m doubly indebted to you,” she murmured.
He bent over so that his face was close to hers. “No, Casey. I don’t want you to feel as if you owe me a thing.”
“But I do,” she said in a whisper. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” His voice deepened, became husky, and his face turned serious. “I knew as soon as I lifted you out of the wreckage you were someone special to me. I want us to get to know each other, Casey.” He stood and she thought again how tall he was. He would top her five foot nine frame by several inches. “I won’t be back for a couple of days, but I’ll keep in touch.” His dark eyes held hers. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“I don’t know,” Casey said in a voice that quivered a little in spite of her attempt at control.
“I do. I believe we meant a lot to each other in another life and I mean for us to mean a lot to each other in this one.”
He stood looking down at her while her mind tried to absorb the meaning of his words. A smile started in his dark eyes and spread to the rest of his face and then he bent and laid his lips gently against hers. There was nothing hesitant about his kiss, nothing tentative or uncertain. The pressure of his mouth was warm and firm, moving over her lips with familiar ease. When he raised his head he was still smiling.
“You’re crazy!” Casey gasped through wobbly lips. “I don’t know you … from Adam!”
He laughed. The sound was light and teasing and there was unmistakable admiration in his eyes.
“Somehow I knew you’d be like that.” He laughed lightly again as if, suddenly, he was very happy. “You’re not to worry about a thing. The doctors and nurses will take good care of you while I’m gone. Hurry and get well so you can get out of here.”