Page 5 of Love Takes A Tumble
"Why are you so determined to help? You don't know me."
Harrison considered this. "Force of habit, I guess," he said finally. "I spent thirty years making sure people were okay. Hard to turn that off."
Something in her expression softened. "Your firefighter instincts."
"Something like that."
Silence stretched between them, oddly comfortable. Then Audrey set her laptop aside and began to push herself up. "Fine. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to—" Her sentence cut off with a sharp intake of breath as her injured foot touched the floor. She swayed dangerously.
Harrison was beside her in an instant, his arm around her waist, steadying her. "Easy there."
Her hand gripped his forearm, fingers surprisingly strong. For a moment, they stood frozen, her warmth against his side, the scent of her shampoo—something herbal and clean—filling his senses.
"Maybe," she said carefully, "a professional opinion would be wise."
Harrison bit back a smile at her grudging concession. "I'll get the truck."
Twenty minutes later, they sat in the waiting room of Palmar Island Medical Clinic, a small but tidy facility just off Main Street. Audrey perched on the edge of her chair, hands folded in her lap, the picture of contained dignity despite having been carried to and from his truck.
"Thanks for the ride," she said, breaking the silence. "I'm sure you had other plans for your morning."
"Nothing that can't wait." The truth was, he'd had no plans at all. Just another day of aimless wandering, trying to figure out what came next.
"Still. I appreciate it."
The nurse called Audrey's name before he could respond. Without thinking, Harrison rose to help her, but Audrey held up a hand.
"I can manage the ten feet to the exam room," she said, though there was more humor than bite in her tone. "Perhaps you could wait? For the ride back?"
"I'll be right here."
He watched her hobble carefully after the nurse, refusing the offered wheelchair with a polite but firm shake of her head. Stubborn woman. He couldn't help but admire her determination, even as he shook his head at the unnecessary struggle.
The dated magazines in the waiting room held little appeal, so Harrison found himself contemplating the ceiling tiles, the worn carpet, the bulletin board covered with community flyers. Anywhere but his own thoughts, which kept circling back to the same unanswerable questions. What did he have to offer anymore? What was the point of experience and skills that no one needed?
Thirty minutes later, Audrey emerged, a prescription in one hand and her pride visibly intact.
"Just a sprain," she announced. "Nothing broken."
"Good news." He stood, offering his arm. "What's the treatment plan?"
"Rest, ice, elevation. The usual." She hesitated before taking his arm. "And an Ace bandage, which the nurse assures me is the height of fashion this season."
Harrison smiled at the unexpected touch of humor. "Did she recommend crutches?"
"She did." Audrey gestured to a pair of adjustable aluminum crutches sitting by the checkout counter. "Insisted, actually. Said I need to stay off it for at least a couple of days."
"Smart woman, that nurse."
Audrey shot him a look that was half irritation, half something warmer. "I suppose I should thank you for insisting I get it checked."
"Just doing my job." At her raised eyebrow, he added, "Well, my former job. Old habits."
The drive back to the inn passed in comfortable silence. Harrison found himself stealing glances at her profile. The slight furrow between her brows, the graceful line of her neck, the way she absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. There was something compelling about her quiet dignity, her insistence on managing alone.
Maybe because he recognized the same impulse in himself.
As they pulled up to the Pelican Inn, Harrison turned off the engine but made no move to get out. "You know," he said carefully, "there's nothing wrong with accepting help when you need it."
