"GOOD MORNING, Mr. Rutledge. Please wake up, sir."

Her voice, like butterscotch candy, rich and smooth, slid across his consciousness. Jared Rutledge opened his eyes and saw the dim outline of a woman standing beside his bed. He instinctively attempted to rise, but halted when a sharp pain stabbed his left knee. He looked at his leg, hanging from a massive steel frame, bound with wires, ropes, and an ugly-looking pin through the joint. What the...? Confused, he glanced at the woman and she placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to lie down.

"Forgot, didn't you? You're in the hospital."

Then it came back. The quiet drive through the dark summer countryside from the Tulsa airport. The sudden flash of headlights as the other car ran the stop sign and smashed into his dark blue rental car. The sickening feeling of helplessness as his vehicle spun, then flipped into the ravine along the road. After that, nothing until he awakened in the hospital, hurting, tired, and enslaved in a torture machine.

The nurse flashed a light into his eyes, one at a time. "Tell me your name, please."

Jared remembered the drill. He had done it every two hours all through the night with the other nurse. "Jared Rutledge, I'm in Mercy Hospital, and today is Tuesday. Yesterday, a drunk driver hit my car as I came into town, and I have a broken leg. The only thing I don't understand is why you keep asking me the same questions all the time."

"The paramedics brought you in unconscious." She slipped two fingers into each of his palms, and he reflexively squeezed. "The x-rays show you don't have a head wound, but we do this test just to make sure you don't have an injury that didn't show up on the film. As long as you know who you are, where and when, we can be pretty sure you're okay." She touched a button on the raised rail on his bed and a muted light filled the area.

Jared blinked. He hadn't been aware heaven had hospitals, but here was proof. The smiling nurse who stood beside the bed could have easily passed for an angel. Even her white uniform dress with flowers embroidered on the bodice added to the image though he didn't imagine any angelic robes had ever molded such a gorgeous figure.

"Now, if you'll be quiet for just a moment, please, I'd like to listen to your lungs." She removed the stethoscope around her neck, positioned the earpieces, then bent and laid the chilly flat disk against his chest.

Her deep auburn hair was tied in a loose knot at her nape and a few soft tendrils framed her heart-shaped face. Big brown velvet eyes, a slim, tip-tilted nose, and luscious, kissable lips completed the picture. Jared grinned. She was every man's fantasy of a nurse, but with that firm jaw and no-nonsense attitude, he was willing to bet she wouldn't allow him to chase her around the bed. He laid still, using the time to enjoy the view.

"Sounds good. Now, let me see that goose egg on your head." She dropped the 'scope on the bed, and gently palpated the back of his skull.

Her action put her even closer to him as she peered at his injury, her arm brushing the top of his shoulder. The warmth emanating from her flesh caused his heartbeat to increase and he was glad she wasn't listening to his heart now. He flinched as her fingers brushed the tender area and she pulled back, her expression apologetic.

"I'm sorry to hurt you, but I need to check you over."

"That's okay. It's just a little sore." His gaze dropped to the name tag over her right breast. K. Lawson, RN.

"What's the 'K' stand for?"

She looked up from the place on his hand where an IV had been inserted, a frown crinkling her brow.

He gestured toward her chest. "Your name badge."

"Oh, Katherine." She smiled at him. "But you can call me Kate."

"You can call me Jared."

She walked to the end of the bed and peeled back the linens covering his uninjured leg. As she checked the pulse in both of his feet, he used the opportunity to assess her further. He discovered a deep urge to make a connection with this confident professional woman who had a body designed to drive men crazy.

She smiled as she replaced the covers, walked to the sink next to the door, and washed her hands. "For a man in traction, you don't appear to be doing too badly. Are you hurting?"

"No. A little sore, but no real pain."

"Good. I'll be back later with your medications."

She opened the door and he searched for a way to get her to stay a little longer. He grabbed the triangular overhead trapeze bar and lifted himself slightly. "Why didn't the doctor put me in a cast?"

"You have a complicated fracture, so you're in traction until the bones start healing."

"How long will that take?"

"Usually about ten days if no complications set in."

Her words sent a jolt through him. "Ten days? Ten days tied to this metal monster?"

She laughed, ambled back to his bedside, and fluffed his pillow. "We'll try to keep you from getting too bored. For instance, we have a contest to guess what is the cook's daily mystery casserole. Then there is -- "

"No, you don't understand." He flopped back on the bed and ran his hand over his unshaven jaw. "I have a business to run. I can't be stuck here in Oklahoma for ten days."

She patted his hand. "Mr. Rutledge, I sympathize, but right now, the most important thing is for your leg to heal. Use this accident as an opportunity for a mini-vacation."

"My company won't wait for me to have a vacation, mini or otherwise. I need to be in my office, no later than Monday morning. I only came to town for four days."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to make other arrangements because there's no way you'll be ready to leave before you get a cast." She hesitated, her brow furrowed in thought. "Susan from social services would be willing to come in and assist you if you would like me to call her."

He could see she was trying to help, but she didn't understand how crucial it was for him to return to San Francisco. He couldn't afford to hang around this one-horse town. He caught her gaze. One look at her polite, but determined expression, and he knew he was stuck here for the duration. At least, he could make his own adjustments.

"Is my luggage here?"

"Yes," she replied, relieved at his seeming acceptance. She reached in a small closet next to the bed, removed his black overnight case, and placed it on a chair. "Shall I get out your own toothbrush?"

"Oh, I'll need the shaving kit. But mostly I need the papers out of my briefcase. And my cell-phone. And if possible, I would really like to have a fax set up in here. Can you do that for me?"

A shield fell over her face. Somehow, she had pulled away from him and he wasn't sure why. Silently, she handed him his kit, then collected his briefcase and placed it where he could reach it. As he retrieved his cellular phone, she held out her hand.

"Our engineer will need to check this and make sure it's compatible with our equipment. It can interfere with the cardiac monitors in ICU. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you have the phone on the bedside table. Just dial nine for an outside line."

All through her spiel, she marched to the door, the phone clutched tightly in her hand. As she started to step out of the room, she looked back at him. "Is your company more important than your broken leg?"

He frowned at the strange tone in her voice, then ignored it. "In my line of business, competition is fierce. If you don't stay -- "

"Never mind." She nodded, the corner of her mouth quirked in a sad smile. "I've heard this before. I'll check with your doctor. If she says it's okay for you to work in here, we'll see what we can do about getting you a fax. Meanwhile, I'll be back in a moment with your pills and breakfast."

She vanished out the door, and Jared stared at where she had been standing. What had he said that put the layer of frost on her? She had raised a barrier against him and he found it a challenge. One thing he was good at was beating down barriers.

Copyright © 2000 by Jackie Kramer