“Heather!” This time he sounded more impatient.
“What?” she mumbled, her voice as hoarse as a frog’s.
She heard a sound and realized he was laughing. “Not funny,” she muttered.
“No, it’s not funny,” he agreed. “It’s the most wonderful sound I’ve heard in the past forty-eight hours.”
She tried to make sense of what he was saying. Why had it been two days since he’d heard her speak? Where was she? She tried to struggle into a sitting position, but pain shot through her and she fell back.
She felt Connor’s soothing hand on her shoulder.
“Settle down,” he said. “You’re probably feeling a little foggy about now.”
“Too much cotton,” she said, trying to shake her head to clear it, but that hurt, too.
“Cotton?” he asked.
“Can’t you feel it? It’s all over.”
“There’s no cotton, sweetheart. There are a lot of bandages. You’re in the hospital, and they’re taking very good care of you. You’re going to be fine.”
Hospital? “Why?”
“You don’t remember the accident?”
She started to shake her head but immediately realized that was a very bad idea when pain shot through it. “Accident?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” he promised. “Right now, I need to let the doctor know you’re awake.”
“Don’t go,” she pleaded. She didn’t want to be left in this strange place all alone.
“I won’t be long. Two minutes at the most.” She felt his lips on her brow, just a whisper of feeling, and then he was gone. She wanted to stay awake until he came back, but the pull toward sleep was too strong.
When she woke again, she managed to blink her eyes open, then regretted it. It was like walking into sunlight after days of darkness. Everything was too bright.
“Connor?”
“Right here,” he said, clasping her hand in his. “How’s the cotton?”
“Not so bad now,” she said. “How long was I out this time?”
“Just a couple of hours. It’s Saturday afternoon.”
“Saturday? I don’t remember anything after…” She tried to think back. “Tuesday, maybe. Is that when I had the accident?”
“No, it was Wednesday morning. Mom said you were going shopping.”
She tried to dredge up the memory of any part of that morning, but it was all a blank. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked the blurry image that she knew to be Connor. “You’re all fuzzy.”
“You had a serious concussion, but the doctors dealt with that. You may have blurry vision from time to time because of that. You have two cracked ribs and your right leg’s a bit of a mess. It probably feels heavy right now because you have a cast from the ankle up to your hip to stabilize the bones you broke.”
As if to prove him wrong, she tried to move her leg, but it was weighted down. She reached down with her fingers and felt the plaster cast.
“I broke it?”
“Did quite a number on it, as a matter of fact. Apparently it got jammed up under the dashboard somehow and snapped your shinbone and the fibula. Your knee was pretty badly bruised, but they didn’t spot any breaks or cracks in the kneecap. They’re going to want you up and moving around on crutches soon. Normally they’d push for that sooner, but they’ve been cautious because of the head injury.”
She blinked hard, and her vision cleared a little. She tried to read Connor’s expression, but he was keeping it perfectly neutral.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.
“I’ve told you everything,” he insisted.
“No other injuries?” she pressed. “I’m not going to discover tomorrow that there’s some major body part I’m missing?”
He smiled at that. “No, I can assure you that all your parts are still there. You have plenty of cuts and bruises as souvenirs, but that’s it.”
“Then what are you hiding? I know it’s something big, because you’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one that you’ve always had right before you tell me something you know I’m not going to want to hear.”
“Oh, that look,” he said, smiling.
“You’re stalling, Connor. Just spill it, whatever it is.”
“Okay, here it is,” he said. “Your mother’s here. She’s been staying at the house. I called to let her know you’re awake, so she’ll probably be back here any minute.”
Heather couldn’t quite grasp the news. “My mother is here? In Chesapeake Shores?”
Connor nodded.
“Was I dying? Is that how you got her here?”
“You were hurt. That’s what got her here. She didn’t even hesitate.”
“Well, send her home,” Heather said heatedly. “If she couldn’t be there for me when little Mick was born, then who needs her now?”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she heard a gasp of dismay and saw her mother in the doorway to the hospital room, her skin pale. Obviously she’d returned at exactly the wrong moment.
Even with her compromised vision, Heather could tell that not only had her mother heard, but that the harsh words had hurt her. “I’m sorry” was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter it. If anyone was owed an apology here, it was her, for months of being treated like she’d shamed her family.
Connor looked from Heather to her mother, then back again. “You two should talk,” he said quietly. “I’ll give you some time.”
“No,” Heather protested, grabbing his hand.
He gently extricated his hand, then said meaningfully, “Yes. It’s time, Heather. She’s right here. You need to have a conversation face-to-face.” He turned to her mother. “A brief one, though. Don’t upset her.”
To Heather’s surprise, as Connor left, her mother marched right into the room. She pulled the chair Connor had been sitting in a little closer to the bed, then sat down, gripping her purse tightly in her lap.
“He’s right,” she told Heather eventually. “We need to mend fences.”
Heather sighed. “I doubt that’s possible.”
“Well, we have to try,” her mother said stubbornly. “You’re my only child. I want you in my life.” She
