he was divorced, and he didn’t volunteer any information about there being a girlfriend to contend with. That bridge could be crossed, if and when she came to it. After all, the job was only for three weeks. Changing bandages once a day and helping Logan stay quiet until he healed was a cushy assignment.
“The ward nurse will point Wendi out to me when she arrives,” Melissa said. She saw one of the licensed vocational nurses pushing in a cart. “I see Mrs. Roberts is here for your sponge bath, so I’ll just leave you two alone.”
She patted Logan’s arm, but he grabbed at her hand. His grip was like steel. Instinctively she stepped closer and leaned down. “What is it?”
“What does she look like?” he whispered.
Melissa glanced at the pretty young woman unashamedly listening to their conversation and winked. “She’s fifty-five years old and about two hundred pounds. Oh, and there’s a wart on her chin.”
Logan sighed with relief. “Thanks, Melissa.”
“Anytime. I’ll be back when I’ve spoken with your daughter.”
Melissa automatically waved goodbye as she left the room, then laughed when she realized he couldn’t see her. Just as well. If he could, he’d find out what Mrs. Roberts really looked like and they’d probably have a full-scale riot on their hands. A straightforward man like Logan Phillips wouldn’t take kindly to deception, however well-intentioned, or confinement, however necessary.
She walked over to the nurses’ station and chatted with the two women sitting there. In about fifteen minutes, the elevator doors opened and a young girl stepped out. She was slim and pretty, with none of the gawkiness usually associated with preteen girls.
“Wendi?” she asked.
The girl stopped in the hall. Green eyes met Melissa’s and she wondered if Logan’s were the same color. “Yes.”
At twelve, Wendi was already as tall as Melissa. Her hair was the same color as Logan’s, a rich dark brown that reflected the light. Whereas his had curled around his ears and would have barely brushed a shirt collar, hers tumbled down her back in an artfully arranged display.
“Hi, I’m Melissa VanFleet. I’m a nurse and I may be taking care of your dad for a few weeks.”
Wendi smiled. The impish grin was pure Logan. “Great. I was afraid I’d have to look after him and it would be totally like gross. I mean, what if there was blood? Yuk.”
Melissa laughed. “No blood, I promise. You won’t mind then?”
“Nah.” She glanced at Melissa’s tailored pants and plain cotton blouse. “You won’t wear a uniform, will you?”
“Never.”
“Good.” Wendi glanced down the hall to see if they were alone, then leaned forward and whispered, “I mean they’re totally uncool. And the shoes.”
“I know, they’re like combat boots.” She remembered Logan’s boot-camp remark.
“So when’s my dad coming home?”
Despite her trendy clothes and air of sophistication, Wendi suddenly looked like a scared little girl. The fear in her eyes convinced Melissa to take the job. She knew kids, and this one needed reassurance that her father would be fine. “He’ll be home later today. I’m going to find the doctor and make the arrangements, then I’ll need to go to the house and check on food and that sort of thing. Can you show me where you live?”
“No problem. I’ll just say hi, then we can get going.”
Wendi went down the hall, and Melissa turned back to the nurses’ station.
After speaking with Logan’s physician, she headed toward his room to pick up Wendi. As she walked through the doorway, Logan was speaking.
“So this Melissa person is okay?” he asked.
Wendi looked up and saw her, then smiled. “Yeah. She seems nice.”
Melissa bit back a chuckle. Not a bad endorsement from a twelve-year-old.
“What does she look like?”
Logan’s question seemed casual enough, but Melissa felt her humor fade. Here it comes, she thought.
Wendi studied her thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Dad. Nothing like Mom. She’s at least thirty.”
Melissa put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows.
“Or younger,” Wendi hastily amended.
“And?” he prompted.
“Blondish. Not very tall.” Wendi shrugged and looked away. “Jeez, Dad, this is embarrassing.”
Logan laughed. “I should know better than to ask a girl whose idea of high fashion is anything from MTV.”
Melissa forced a smile. She knew why Wendi was uncomfortable. What was the girl supposed to say? It wasn’t as though she didn’t know she was…plain. She saw the proof every day in the mirror. Wasn’t her mother always telling her that beauty came from within? Just once, though, she’d like to be pretty enough that no one had to look deeply to notice.
She listened a few more minutes, but the conversation had moved on to another topic. Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to the bed.
“Hi.”
Logan wasn’t sure if he recognized the voice first or the scent. “Melissa?”
“Very good. I’ll tell the staff that you won’t be needing that guide dog after all.”
“Thanks. I just want to go home. What’s the verdict? Did I pass inspection?”
“Was that a note of pleading I heard in your voice?”
He laughed. “At this point, I’ll do anything to get out of here.”
There was a rustling noise and the sound of her heels on the floor. When she next spoke, he could feel her soft breath tickling his ear. “How was the sponge bath?”
“I got by.” With her help, he thought. Knowing the nurse was old and unattractive combined with him mentally reciting all the states and their capitals had kept him relaxed.
“Here’s the deal. I’ll work for you for three weeks. While your eyes are bandaged, I’ll help with day-to-day living. After the dressings come off, I’ll be around to make sure you follow the doctor’s orders. Can you live with that?”
He nodded. “I’m yours to command.”
“Yeah, right. And pigs fly. You’re the type of patient that gives nurses nightmares, Logan.”
He tapped his chest in an expression of innocence. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I’ve cleared your discharge with the doctor. He’ll be by in an hour to check your eyes one last time, then you can leave. Wendi’s going to take me to the house,
