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“I brought you some lunch,” he said as he lifted his arms toward her so she could see the package in his hands. He stepped toward her and set the soup on the nightstand. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge. His curious eyes scanned her.
Did he know? How could he?
He pulled a spoon and soup container from the paper bag then he removed the lid. He spooned some soup, chicken noodle, and lifted the utensil to her mouth.
She lowered her gaze. Was he really going to feed her like a baby?
“Elizabeth?”
She looked up.
His concerned, warm brown gaze held hers. She opened her mouth. The hot soup ran over her taste buds, and soothed her throat. How nicely would he treat her if he knew what happened to her in New York?
When she finished eating, Joe set the empty container on the nightstand. He reached over and placed his hand on her forehead. “You don’t appear to be running a high temperature. That’s good news. Did you have one before?”
The intensity of his stare was such that she was sure he could see right into her soul, and that couldn’t be good. Did she dare risk a lie? She tore her gaze from his and shifted her head in the opposite direction.
He lowered his hand to her chin, and slowly rotated her attention back.
“Elizabeth, sweetheart, I do believe that you’re not feeling well as you say you are, but I have a feeling it’s not the flu. Whatever it is, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
Her eyes burned with tears. She didn’t know what to say or do. Part of her wanted to talk with someone about what had happened, but should that person be Joe? If she confided in him, would he ever be able to look at her the same again?
“Thanks, Joe. I appreciate your concern, but if you don’t mind, I’m kind of tired and would like to go back to sleep.”
She lay back down on the bed and pulled the blankets up around her neck, wishing she hadn’t seen the hint of hurt flash through his worried gaze when she dismissed him a second ago.
Even after her bluntness, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll check back at supper time if that’s okay.”
The man was a saint.
“I’d like that,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
Later in the evening, he woke her for dinner.
“Have you been sleeping all day?”
Elizabeth rubbed her weary eyes as she sat up. “Yes, I guess.”
He pressed his hand to her head like he had done earlier. “Hmm, you don’t appear to be running a temperature, Are you feeling any better?”
“A little bit, I guess.”
Max and Molly’s voices and laughs echoed up the stairwell causing her to glance in the direction of the bedroom door.
Joe caught her gaze. “Sorry about the noise, I didn’t want to leave them home alone because I didn’t know how long I’d be. I instructed them to sit in your living room and wait. Max brought a book to read to Molly.”
“No, I didn’t mean to...it’s okay, how are they?” She missed seeing the kids.
“They’re good, but they’re worried about you.”
She felt the corners of her mouth edge upward. “They are?”
“Of course they are. They like you. I told them you weren’t feeling well and they want you to get well. They even made you a card.”
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to her.
She unfolded the paper to find a drawing of a snowman surrounded by two big people and two little people. The card read, ‘Get Well Soon,’ and was signed by Joe, Max & Molly. Her heart warmed at the kids’ thoughtfulness. “Please tell them thank you for me.”
