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“Me, too. But I’m sorrier for Holly. She was nineteen.”

“Yeah.” Hutch lowered his head, stared at the carpet. “Now I understand.”

“Do you? You almost ripped me a new one when I followed Hope Willis to the drop site. I did that on sheer instinct, not on concrete facts I was withholding. She could have really just been going to do an errand and it would have been nothing. I realize you were worried about my safety. But you were also pissed that I didn’t clue you in. I can’t always do that. Just like you can’t always release advance info to me.” Casey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not naive. This is going to test us big-time. There are times when it will probably put a huge strain on us.”

“Are you willing to try?” Hutch asked flatly. “Because I am. Like I said, we’re about more than great sex. I’m not willing to throw it all away just because we’re occasionally going to be operating at cross-purposes. We’ll hash it out. We’ll fight. And, yeah, sometimes we’ll combust. Are you invested enough in this relationship to take that on?”

Casey didn’t have to think. “Yes,” she responded. “I am. But remember, I give as good as I get. I’m not going to roll over. And I’m not going to share confidential information with you, any more than you are with me. There are going to be secrets. We’ll have to accept that.”

“As long as those secrets aren’t about us—the private us.”

“Agreed.”

Hutch put down his water and crossed over to the bed. “I think this conversation has come to a successful conclusion.” He unbelted Casey’s robe, slid open the sides. “Now it’s time to celebrate our victory.”

Casey smiled, leaning back on the bed and tugging Hutch down to her. “Consider this to be our toast.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Day Six

Dawn was just breaking. Most of the patients at Sunny Gardens were still asleep.

She wasn’t. She was sitting up in the chair in her room, fretting because it would be days before her baby would visit. Wednesday had come and gone, as had their time together. Now it was Saturday. Or Sunday. But whichever it was, Wednesday was far away.

She could hardly remember their visit, or what they’d talked about. She’d asked Nurse Greene if she’d been there for any of it, and if her baby had given her a hug before she left.

The nurse had soothed her and assured her that their time together had been tender and warm, and the hug had been tight.

Why couldn’t she remember?

She lowered her head into her hands and began to cry.

“Lorna?”

Her head came up. A plump, middle-aged nurse she didn’t recognize had stepped into the room.

“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Nurse Amato. I heard you crying. Are you in pain?”

“I don’t know you. Where’s Nurse Greene?” the woman demanded.

“She hasn’t come in yet.” Nurse Amato walked over, put a hand on Lorna’s shoulder. Lorna could see her name tag now. Denise Amato. A stranger.

She shook her hand away. “I don’t know you,” she repeated. “I want Nurse Greene.”

Nurse Amato gave her a placating smile. “I understand that you don’t want to confide in me. We don’t really know each other. But I don’t want to leave you sad. Would you like to take a walk? We could go to the gardens. Nurse Greene says that the flowers always cheer you up.”

“She said that?”

“She certainly did.”

“But it’s noisy outside. Those men are always hammering and drilling.”

“We won’t walk toward the new wing. We’ll go in the opposite direction, and walk around back. We can get to the gardens either way.”

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