of a stranger.
Tossing the first load of laundry into the washer, she thought she heard a noise. She stopped, listened, but didn’t hear it again. She returned to the kitchen and didn’t hear any more noise, but something felt off. She told herself she was imagining things, stacked dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on.
She spent the next hour cleaning the downstairs in between trips to the laundry room. When the laundry was folded, she walked up the cherrywood staircase to the second floor. Humming a bit, happy with how well she was managing to keep her focus off the house’s owner, she shouldered open the master bedroom door and gasped.
Damn.
“Who is it?”
The scratchy voice that came from the bed didn’t sound like Cain’s at all. But even in the dim light of his room, she could see it was him.
“It’s me. Liz. Cleaning your house.”
“Liz?”
His weak voice panicked her and she set the stack of clean laundry on the mirrored vanity and raced to the bed. His dark hair was soaked with sweat and spiked out in all directions. Black stubble covered his chin and cheeks.
“My wife, Liz?” he asked groggily.
“Ex-wife.” She pressed her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up!”
Not waiting for a reply, she rushed into the master bathroom and searched through the drawers of the cherrywood vanity of the double sinks looking for something that might help him. Among the various toiletries, she eventually found some aspirin. She ran tap water into the glass and raced back to the bed.
Handing two aspirin and the water to him, she said, “Here.”
He took the pills, but didn’t say anything. As he passed the water glass back to her, he caught her gaze. His dark eyes were shiny from the effects of the fever, so she wasn’t surprised when he lay down and immediately drifted off to sleep again.
She took the glass downstairs and put it in the sink. Telling herself to forget he was in the bedroom, she finished cleaning but couldn’t leave in good conscience without checking up on him.
When she returned to the bedroom, Cain still slept soundly. She pressed her hand to his forehead again and frowned. Even after the aspirin, he was still burning up and he was so alone that it felt wrong to leave him. She could call his assistant but somehow that didn’t seem right, either. An assistant shouldn’t have to nurse him through the flu.
Technically an ex-wife shouldn’t, either, but with his family at least a thousand miles away in Kansas, she was the lesser of two evils.
Sort of.
Tiptoeing out of the room, she pulled her cell phone from her apron pocket and dialed Ellie.
“Hey, sweetie.” Ellie greeted her, obviously having noted the caller ID.
“Hey, Ellie. Is Rita with you?”
“Sure is. Doing wonderfully I might add.”
“That’s good because I think I need to have her take over my jobs this afternoon.”
“On her own?”
“Is that a problem?”
Ellie’s voice turned unexpectedly professional. “No. She’ll be great.”
“Good.”
“Um, boss, I know where you are, remember? Is there anything going on I should know about?”
“No. I’m fine. I just decided to take the afternoon off.” Liz winced. She hadn’t actually lied. She was taking time off; she simply wasn’t going to do something fun as Ellie suspected.
“No kidding! That’s great.”
“Yeah, so I’ll be out of reach for the rest of the day. Give the other girls a call and instruct them to call you, not me, if they have a problem.”
“On it, boss!” Ellie said, then she laughed. “This is so exciting!”
Liz smiled, glad Ellie was enjoying her new responsibilities. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She closed her cell phone then ambled to the kitchen. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t care if he had food or not, but with him as sick as he was, he had to at least have chicken broth and orange juice. Finding neither, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed to the grocery store where she purchased flu medicine, orange juice, chicken broth and a paperback book.
She put everything but the flu meds and book away, then she grabbed a clean glass from the cupboard and tiptoed upstairs again. He roused when she entered.
“Liz?”
“Yes. I have flu meds. You interested?”
“God, yes.”
“Great. Sit up.”
She poured one dose of the flu meds into the little plastic cup and held it out to him. He swallowed the thick syrup and handed the cup back before lying down again.
As she took the medicine to the bathroom, a bubble of fear rose up in her. Caring for him had the potential to go so wrong. Not because she worried that they’d get involved again. Tomorrow, she would forget all about this, if only because even pondering being involved with him would bring back painful memories.
But she knew Cain. He hated owing people, and if she stayed too long or did too much, he’d think he owed her. When he believed he owed somebody he could be like a dog with a bone. Being beholden made him feel weak. He was never weak. Which made her caring for him when he was sick a double threat. Not only had he been weak, but she’d seen him weak. He’d have to make this up to her.
Of course, with him as sick as he was, she could hope he wouldn’t remember most of this in the morning.
Everything would be fine.
With a peek at the bed to be sure he was asleep, she left the room and went to the Happy Maids car. In the trunk, she found a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She changed out of her yellow maid uniform in one of the downstairs bathrooms then she took her book and a glass of orange juice into the study. Reclining on the sofa, she made herself comfortable to read.
She checked on him every hour or so. Finding him sleeping soundly every time, she slid out of the room and returned to the study. But just as she was pulling the door closed behind her on the fourth trip, he called out to her.
“Where are you going?”
She eased the door open again and walked over to the bed. “Cain? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He sat up. “Come back to bed.”
Realizing the fever had him hallucinating or mixing up the past and present, she smiled and went into the bathroom to get him some water. She pressed the glass to his lips. “Sip.”
As she held the glass
