Had he been watching her when she thought he was sleeping? She ignored his warning. "Move over to the other side of the bed where the sheets are dry. The next time you wake up, I want to take your temperature. If it's down, I'll go back to my room. For now, I'm staying." She tilted her head. "Unless you want to throw me out." They both knew he was in no shape to do that.
"You're going to get a stiff neck in that chair."
"It's really not bad."
"Sara..."
"Right now, Jake, I'm a lot stronger than you are."
"You want to test it?" he growled.
Her heart raced. Even in the condition he was in, if she challenged him, she had no doubt he'd meet it. "No." Handing him the glass of water, she ordered, "Drink."
He took the glass and managed to get most of it down. Then he moved over the other side of the bed and laid back on the pillow. Finally his eyes closed. Sara breathed a sigh of relief and went downstairs to refill the water glass.
As she stepped back into the room, Jake was muttering in his sleep. The fire had almost burnt out. After she added kindling, she stoked it back to life and added a log. Jake's muttering became louder, more intelligible.
"No, no, not Davie. Oh my God, nooo..." He tossed first to the left, then to the right.
Sara hurried to him. He'd turned his face away from her. She didn't want to wake him, and not knowing what else to do, she gently rubbed the middle of his back. He stopped moving restlessly, and his muscles seemed to relax. She kept rubbing. She didn't know how long she soothed, how long she rubbed his spine, the broad span between his shoulders. After he'd been quiet for some time, she stopped.
His hair curled around his ear and lay at the nape of his neck. She couldn't help wanting to touch it. Brushing it away from his ear, she put a tender kiss on his cheek. Then she went back to her chair to keep the vigil.
The sun was creeping over the window ledge when she awoke again. She stretched and yawned, then sat up and looked over at Jake. To her surprise, he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Going somewhere?"
"Yes. To the bathroom. The fever must be down because the room's standing still."
Of course she didn't listen, but approached him and touched her hand to his forehead. "Not quite as bad. But I want to take your temperature anyway to make sure."
He pushed himself off the bed and took hold of the nightstand.
"Jake..."
"I'm fine," he muttered as he used the wall to make his way to the bathroom. She held her breath until he reemerged still on his feet. But barely. When he got to the bed, he stretched out, his breathing labored.
"Was it really worth the effort to do that by yourself?"
He closed his eyes. "Yes."
She sighed and reached for the thermometer. When she touched it to his lips, he opened his eyes. They bored into her, and she wondered what he was thinking.
His temperature was down to 101. She handed him aspirin and the glass of water. After he drank it, he said, "Go to your room and get some sleep."
"Only if you promise to call if you need me."
"I'll call."
He wouldn't, but she realized that at this point her presence could keep him from resting. With nurselike precision, she straightened his covers. "You try to sleep, too."
He nodded.
She left his door open, hoping she'd hear him if he got out of bed. When she crawled into hers, she wondered if he'd resent her for the care she'd given him, for seeing him weaker than he wanted to be. It didn't matter if he did because she'd do it all again. She loved him.
#
Jake's head throbbed when he woke up, but not nearly as badly as it had the night before. He'd seen the worry in Sara's eyes. He'd been worried himself. He never got sick!
Suddenly, he remembered the nightmare. An old one. More than the nightmare, he remembered Sara's hand on his back. He'd almost shrugged her away but it had felt so good…calming. He'd almost stopped breathing when she'd brushed the hair from his neck, when she'd kissed him. Had that been a dream? His overactive libido working even in his sleep? He'd watched her resting in that chair and as bad as he'd felt become aroused by it.
She'd fought to take care of him last night. Why? Did he dare believe she really cared? That she hadn't come back into his life for convenience or to make her life easier? Why hadn't she fought like that four years ago? Why hadn't she stood her ground and told him she was pregnant? If she'd loved him, she would have. If she'd loved him...
Damn! He was getting sucked in all over again because of a little kindness. He'd better get his guard back up and fast. He hated feeling weak. He hated feeling defenseless. Must be the flu.
The door to his room opened and Sara came in carrying a tray. Christopher was right behind her but waited at the threshold. She smiled at Jake. "He wanted to make sure for himself that you're all right."
Jake mustered up the best smile he could. "I'm getting better. But you'd better stay clear until I can come downstairs. I don't want you getting sick."
His son's brown eyes got wider. "Mom says Thanksgivin's soon. You gonna be okay then?"
Thanksgiving was only ten days away. "I'm sure I'll be fine until then."
Sara said, "Play in your room for a few minutes till I take your dad's temperature."
"Okay." Christopher scampered off.
"He's a good kid."
"And a better patient than you are." She held out the thermometer to him. "Here. You can have breakfast after you take it."
This time he didn't argue with her. The scrambled eggs looked light enough to float down his throat and his stomach rumbled.
She laughed. "Good. You have an appetite."
He had an appetite for more than her food.
Jake checked the thermometer before he gave it to her. "It's only 99. I'm better already. Good thing, too. I have calls to make, paperwork to go through..."
"Jake Donovan, don't you even think about stepping out of this room, let alone bringing work up here. If you don't behave today, I'll call Nathan."
Jake couldn't suppress his smile. "And just what do you think Nathan's going to do?"
"Sit on you if he has to. There's no reason you can't stay in bed and relax today. I called Gillian and she said she'll be in, and she'll handle any emergencies that come up."
"You had no right to--"
"Tell her her partner was a little under the weather? I don't need rights to do that. A secretary would have done the same thing."
Sara was right. He didn't know why he was being so argumentative. Maybe because she was invading every area of his life, and he felt crowded. After a lengthy pause, he asked, "Truce?"
She smiled. "Does that mean I don't have to call Nathan?"
"It means I appreciate everything you did for me last night."
Today, Sara wore jeans and a T-shirt that were every bit as appealing as the caftan that had swirled around her last night. Her smile slipping away, she came closer. "You had a nightmare last night. Do you remember it?"
Jake blanked out the pictures that were ready to flood his head. "Yes. It's the same one I always have. The car in flames, Mary Beth screaming..."
"It might help if you talked about it."
Jake hadn't talked about it to anyone, except when he'd told Sara about it, then Nathan and Gillian. "There isn't anything to talk about. Davie died and it was my fault."
"Jake, you can't still believe that."
"The bomb was in my car, meant for me. It was my fault. If that had been Christopher, you'd blame me, too."
She sat on the bed next to him and covered his hand with hers. "Are you so sure of that? Your loss was as great as your wife's. I can see how much you love Christopher. I can imagine how much you loved Davie. Some thug killed your son. You have to forgive yourself for being a cop then, or you'll never have any peace."
The pain in Jake's chest became so great, his throat tightened painfully. Sara's hand on his was like a lifeline, a way out of the pain. He studied their hands. She couldn't be his lifeline. He couldn't need her that much. If he did, and she left, too...
Sara looked at him with such compassion, he wanted to pull her down beside him on the bed, kiss her rosy lips, stroke her soft skin, breathe in every part of her. His pulse thudded and so did his head, bringing him back to reality with a jolt.
He reached for the tray she'd set at the foot of the bed. "I'd better get started on the eggs. If you have things to do downstairs, don't worry about me. I'll remember to take more aspirin in a few hours." Knowing he sounded gruff, he settled the tray on his lap.
Sara stood. "I'll check in a little while if you need anything. But I won't bother you if you're resting."
When she left his room, he wanted to call her back. But he didn't know what he'd say if he did. So he kept silent.
#
The following evening, Sara reached for Christopher's block at the same time as Jake. Their fingers brushed and the heat between them had nothing to do with the blaze in the living room fireplace. Jake's gaze had been on her all evening, as if he was trying to figure something out. They both chose a different block to add to their son's architectural masterpiece that was about ready to topple over. When Jake had awakened this morning, his fever had disappeared. He'd worked with Gillian in their office most of the day. By supper, he'd looked tired but his complexion now had the ruddy color of renewed health.
Suddenly, Christopher's building collapsed on the coffee table. The three-year-old just giggled. "Do it again."
Sara glanced at her watch. "Nope. It's time for bed."
Glancing first at Jake and then at his mother, he accepted her verdict. "Can Daddy read two stories tonight?"
Christopher had missed Jake while he was gone and the two days he'd been sick. Sara waited for Jake to answer.
"Help me gather up the blocks, then we'll pick out two books."
A smile lit Sara's heart. Jake was getting good at handling Christopher.
She enjoyed the ritual of putting their son to bed. It was a time when she felt closest to Jake. But tonight, even while he was reading with Christopher nestled in his lap, she felt his gaze on her now and then in the same searching way.
After they'd tucked in their son and Sara preceded Jake down the stairs, she wondered what was coming. Sitting on the sofa, she waited.
Jake crossed to the fireplace and stared into the leaping fire. When he finally turned and looked at her, she felt she could go up in flames as easily as the extra kindling laying on the hearth. "I've been thinking about what you said, about going back to school. If that's what you want to do, it's all right with me. Do you want me to pay for it, or will you use the proceeds from the land in Arizona?"
His question took her aback. "I'd like to save that money for Christopher's education."
"From what you've said, it'll probably be a drop in the bucket. Besides, he won't need it. I'll be paying for his education."
"Both of us have the responsibility for his education. Both of us should be working together for all of our needs."
"Because California's a community property state?" His brown eyes were unreadable.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine?"
She hadn't really thought about all that. "Yes, I guess. Though the land in Arizona might not sell for a while...if ever."
"It could be a very long while," Jake agreed, still giving nothing away.
"I don't know what you're getting at, Jake. It's a little late for a prenuptial agreement. I'm surprised you didn't have Nathan draw one up before the wedding." She couldn't keep the hurt from her voice. Standing so she'd feel as if she were on more equal footing, she tried to keep her voice calm. "I have a job at the day care center if I want it, but you don't want me to work while Christopher's at home. I'd like to go back to school, yet you're going to resent paying for it. Do I have that right?"
Jake mowed his hand through his hair, a sure sign of frustration. "No, I won't resent paying for it, not if we're working toward the same goal of building a life together."
What in heavens name did he think she was trying to do if not build a life with him? The suspicion he'd voiced before hit her with renewed force. "Do you still think I married you for security?"
He came closer to her, almost within touching distance. She could smell the trace of aftershave he'd used that morning, could see the shadow line of his beard, could feel the tension in his body as all that was past, present and maybe future vibrated between them.
His eyes darkened as he said, "I think you were tired of trying to make ends meet, tired of working and trying to give Christopher attention at the same time, tired of not capturing your dream. Marrying me solved all your problems."
The spark of anger inside her flared. She was tired of his suspicions, tired of feeling as if she was guilty of some terrible wrong. "Solved them? Let me tell you, Jake Donovan, my 'problems' as you put them seemed a cinch compared to living with your distrust. Maybe this Christmas you should ask for a heart to replace that block of stone in your chest." As soon as she said it, she knew she'd gone too far.