He held back a sigh. “It’s not that simple.”
She gave him a sympathetic look. “It should be. Look, I’ve promised myself that I won’t give you unsolicited advice, but I have to say this. Don’t ask Heather to marry you unless you’re a hundred percent committed to everything that implies. Marriage requires hard work and a willing heart.”
Connor knew it was probably good advice; he just didn’t think he could take it. He’d made a promise to God in the car on the way to the hospital. Heather was alive, and he intended to keep his word. He might not believe in marriage, but he believed in Heather and their love. Somehow, he’d make it work.
* * *
Heather had to admit her mother was persistent. Bridget was at the hospital almost as often and for just as long as Connor, though amazingly the two of them mostly managed to avoid each other. That was getting on Heather’s nerves almost as much as the realization that her recovery was going to be slow and tedious.
Worse than all that, though, she missed little Mick. She knew he was in good hands, staying at the house with his grandparents and great-grandmother looking after him, and with Connor there for at least some part of every day. At first they wouldn’t allow the boy in ICU. Then Heather had feared that seeing her laid up in bed with bruises from head to toe would scare him. Now, though, she thought she might go crazy if she didn’t get at least a brief glimpse of her sweet boy.
She was lying there thinking about him and trying to ignore her mother, when the door opened and Connor peeked in. “Up for some company?” he asked, then opened the door wider to reveal little Mick holding his hand.
“Mama!” little Mick shouted with glee, and toddled across the room. The bed was too high for him to scramble up, but Connor scooped him up and set him gently down beside her.
Her eyes blurred by tears, she met Connor’s gaze. “How did you know this was exactly what I needed?”
“Lucky guess,” he said. “Besides, he was very anxious to see his mom. He’s been asking for you every minute he’s awake. It was starting to break my heart.”
“It’s true,” her mother said, regarding Connor with an approving glance. “He surely has missed his mommy.”
Sitting quietly beside her, little Mick turned sad. He reached over and touched his finger very gently to a cut on her cheek. “Boo-boo hurt?” he asked worriedly.
“A little bit,” she said, then grinned. “How about you kiss it and make it better?”
“’Kay,” he said, moving closer and pressing a kiss to the cut. “More boo-boos,” he noted. “Kiss, too?”
Heather laughed. “That might take all day,” she said, tickling him until he giggled. “I am so glad you came to see me,” she told him. “You’re the best medicine ever, but I think you should go home. From in here it looks like such a beautiful day outside. I imagine Grandpa Mick would take you fishing this afternoon if you asked him to.”
“G’pa,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.
Connor chuckled. “Okay, then. Let’s go find Grandpa Mick.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then winked. “Just making you better.”
“Thanks,” she said, then stared after them as they left.
“That child adores you,” her mother said, moving back to the chair beside the bed. “So does his father. I’ve seen it in his eyes whenever he’s here. And the way he talks about you… Oh, my, it’s evident how scared he was when he thought he might lose you. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve. Why the two of you can’t work things out is beyond me.”
“Not discussing this with you, Mom. I’ve told you how things are for Connor and me. It’s not going to change.”
Bridget gave her a sharp look. “Are you so sure about that? I’ve never seen anyone crazier about a woman. He barely slept a wink when you first came to the hospital, and he’s still here every spare minute he has. He’s even put his new job on hold. That tells me quite a lot about Connor’s devotion to you. Frankly, it’s been a revelation to me.”
That last was news to Heather. She’d have to tell Connor it was time for him to go to work. She didn’t want to stand in the way of this new career of his. Though she was grateful for his visits, she no longer needed him hovering over her or even running interference between her and her mother.
“I’m of a mind to sit him down and have a serious talk with him,” her mother said. “It’s time he faced up to his responsibilities and did the right thing by you and that boy! I doubt it would take more than a gentle push to move him in that direction.”
“Mom!” Heather protested. “Not a word to Connor. Is that clear? We’re both adults and perfectly capable of deciding what’s right for us.”
“I see no evidence of that,” Bridget persisted.
“You’ll just have to trust me. Stay out of it, Mom. I mean it.”
Her mother looked put out by the order, but she nodded eventually. “Okay, fine. Whatever you want. I’ll keep my opinions and observations to myself.”
“I’d appreciate it,” Heather told her.
She didn’t want to hear her mother’s speculations about Connor’s feelings, either, because stirring up old hopes accomplished nothing. She’d accepted reality a long time ago, and nothing had changed.
Unfortunately, accepting reality and figuring out how to live with it, especially with Connor being so attentive lately, were two different things.
* * *
Connor was walking down the hallway on his way to Heather’s room when he ran into the social worker.
“Mr. O’Brien, do you have a
