Page 4 of Sherry and Sunflowers
Her cheeks flushed a little. "No. It's not allergies." She glanced back toward the French doors. "If you want to know the truth, I fell asleep again. I feel awful. Zia had your dad arranging flowers by the time I woke up."
"Don't feel bad. It looks to me like he enjoyed himself. You need the rest."
"I'm here to work, Reaves, not to sleep on the job while your dad babysits my daughter."
His jaw tightened. He wished she could just relax and accept it but knew she wouldn't. "The work can wait. That was the whole point of you coming here, remember?"
She looked away, but he pushed on; he had to keep trying.
"I know you feel like you owe something, but you don't, Alara, honestly. Ollie only offered to employ you because he knew therewas no way that you'd accept money directly. All anyone wants is for you to get better." He met her gaze. "And you can't do that until you finally see a doctor. We need to find out what's going on with you before we can figure out how to fix it."
He could see the tension in her shoulders as he spoke. When he finished, he waited, expecting her usual list of excuses about how she was waiting until the health insurance kicked in and how in the meantime she wanted to work. This time, though, the excuses didn't come.
Her shoulders sagged. "I know. You're right. And … I called the insurance this morning. I'm good to go now."
He sat up straighter. "Have you made an appointment? Do you want me to take you?"
She shook her head rapidly. "I can go by myself. It's kind of you but …"
"I'm not trying to be kind, Alara. I care; you know that. And I don't want to put any pressure on you, but I'm worried sick about you—we all are. The headaches, the fatigue, all of it. There's something going on with you and the sooner we find out what it is, the sooner we can get you well again."
She stared at him.
"What?"
"You're such a good guy."
He let out a short laugh. "Thanks. But it's …" She was right, he wouldn't deny it, all his life he'd been the good guy, the decent, stand-up one. He'd care about anyone in her situation, but this was more than that—he cared about her.
"You think of me as a friend, right?"
She nodded.
"And don't you think it'd be good to have a friend with you when you finally see a doctor?"
Her nod was more reluctant this time.
"So, if you don't want me to go with you, should we call Callie, see if she can?"
She pursed her lips.
He smiled.
"Or if you don't want to put her out, you could just let me take you, since I'm here anyway. Zia can stay with Dad and …"
"I haven't even made the appointment yet, Reaves."
"I know, but you could call now. Do you have the number?"
She inhaled deeply.
"You might as well do it. Just think how much easier your life will be without everyone pestering you about whether you've seen a doctor and what you think might be wrong. You'll be able to say that, yes, you have and tell them that you're being treated, and you’ll be back to full strength in no time."
He was doing his best to talk her up, but the look that crossed her face—the flash of fear—landed like a punch to his gut. She was afraid of what the doctor might say.
Chapter Two
On Thursday morning, Alara braced her hands against the island in the kitchen. "Are you sure?"
