Chapter 16.

"It's thoughtful of you to do this for Richard," Mich.e.l.le said as they loaded the walker Josh had purchased at the local pharmacy into the trunk of his rented vehicle.

"Knowing how stubborn he is, Richard will probably refuse to use it." It would be just like his stepfather. "Still, it's worth a try. I don't like the idea of him trying to walk on his own. It would be far too easy for him to take a tumble."

"I've been saying the same thing for weeks."

When they arrived back at the house, Josh found Richard sound asleep in his recliner. He didn't wake up, which told Josh that the trip to the hospital had exhausted the older man. To Josh's surprise it looked as if Richard had managed to eat a little of the soup. At least he'd made the effort. That boded well for the walker. Maybe, just maybe, Richard would be willing to accept this small gift from him. The purchase hadn't been made out of love, but out of respect for his mother.

Josh carried the boxed walker into the kitchen. Mich.e.l.le came with him. He would need to a.s.semble it, although it didn't look like there was much to it.

"I'll find you a screwdriver," Mich.e.l.le offered.

Josh doubted that he'd need one, but he didn't stop her from leaving. While she was out of the room, he opened the box and removed the pieces. He hadn't had time to process what she'd told him about Dylan. In all the years he'd known his stepbrother, Josh couldn't remember Dylan ever being intentionally cruel. He enjoyed practical jokes, Josh remembered. Slapstick humor seemed to amuse him the most, so he had to admit it didn't seem impossible.

It hurt Josh to know that Dylan had wounded Mich.e.l.le's tender heart. He was sorry it'd happened. Her pain had vibrated off of her as she'd recounted the details of the dance. What took him completely by surprise was that he'd felt the heady urge to take her in his arms and comfort her, to lean over and kiss her and tell her how bad he felt that something like this had happened. If he could have, he would've turned back the clock and escorted her to the prom himself.

Having Mich.e.l.le leave the room for a few minutes gave him some badly needed breathing room. The physical awareness between them had heightened after her story. He sensed it and was fairly certain that Mich.e.l.le did, too, but there was no point in dwelling on it. A relationship between them would be impossible. His work took him all over the country. Although he had the house in San Diego, he was rarely there. By contrast, Mich.e.l.le's life was here in Cedar Cove. When he left town this time, it would be for good. He had no intention of returning.

Josh had the walker fully a.s.sembled by the time Mich.e.l.le returned with a screwdriver.

"You did it?"

Josh grinned. "It was easy."

"Maybe for you," she joked.

"I see you found a screwdriver."

"I got it from my dad's garage." She held it up for him to examine. "I was stunned by how many there were. I chose this one because it looked like Dad used it the most."

"Then you'd better take it back before he discovers it's gone."

"Yeah, good idea." She left once more and returned a few minutes later.

Josh stood, thinking that with Richard asleep, it would be a good time to seek out the other things he wanted to collect.

"Where are you going?" Mich.e.l.le asked.

Josh hesitated, not sure if he should tell her. "Richard's bedroom."

She frowned as though she wasn't sure she approved. "Why?"

"I want to look for something ..."

Still she hesitated. "I want to come with you."

"Are you afraid I'll ruin something precious in retribution for what he did to my things?"

"I don't think you're capable of that."

Her high opinion of his intentions humbled him. "Don't be so sure." Then, because he knew he might have a hard time controlling his temper if he found anything else of his that Richard had destroyed, he held out his hand, inviting Mich.e.l.le to join him.

The master bedroom was in the hallway off the kitchen. The door was slightly ajar. It creaked when Josh swung it open. He hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, fearing the noise might have woken his stepfather. From where he stood he couldn't see Richard. Josh had to believe that if the old man was awake, he would do something to try and stop him.

The room was exactly as he remembered it. The bed was in the same position, but unmade. His mother had been a stickler about Dylan and him making up their beds every morning. To find the very one in which she'd slept such a mess of sheets and blankets somehow seemed wrong. Odd that he should feel compelled to straighten it.

He walked around to his mother's side of the bed and opened the drawer of her nightstand. It was empty. Disappointment hit him and his shoulders sank.

"Did you find what you wanted?" Mich.e.l.le asked.

He shook his head. "It isn't here."

"What are you looking for?" she whispered. "Maybe I can help."

"No need to whisper," Josh a.s.sured her. "If Richard could hear us he would have called out by now."

"What is it you're looking for?" she asked again, unwilling to let him sidestep the question.

He hesitated and then told her. "My mother's Bible. In the last days of her life, she kept it at her side twenty-four/seven. I don't have anything that was hers and I'd like to have that Bible."

"A Bible," she repeated. Mich.e.l.le glanced around the room. "Where do you think Richard would have put it?"

If Josh had any idea, he'd be looking there now. "I don't have a clue."

"Check the top shelf in the closet," Mich.e.l.le suggested.

Josh slid open the door only to discover the closet was jammed full of clothes, extra blankets, and a mult.i.tude of ... stuff. If Richard had tucked the Bible in there, it would take all day to uncover it.

Discouraged, he shook his head.

"You could just ask Richard for it," Mich.e.l.le offered.

Josh turned to face her. Apparently she hadn't learned anything from his shredded jacket and yearbook. "Do you honestly think he'd tell me?"

"Why wouldn't he? It was your mother's Bible. You have every right to it."

"Don't you understand?" he said, nearly losing his patience. "If Richard learns I want that Bible, he'll do everything within his power to make sure I never get it. He'd see that it was destroyed before he'd give it to me."

Mich.e.l.le opened her mouth as though to argue and then abruptly snapped it closed, conceding the point.

"You're right," she whispered. She turned to him and slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him, the side of her face pressed against his chest. She twisted her head to look up at him and their eyes met and held. For an extended moment they simply stared at each other. Josh didn't breathe and he was fairly certain Mich.e.l.le didn't either. The air between them seemed charged with awareness and need. Need to comfort. Need to console.

Plain, raw need.

After what seemed like years, Josh closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to hers, no longer able to resist. The kiss started off gentle; gradually it became something else, something more. Something deeper. Josh wound his fingers into Mich.e.l.le's hair, bringing her tighter against him as he ground his mouth over hers, wanting to claim as much of her as he could, giving, taking.

When he broke off the kiss, they were both breathless and panting, their shoulders heaving.

Josh wanted to say something, but words refused to formulate in his mind. What crowded his thoughts was how he'd never meant for this to happen, and at the same time, how right it'd felt to have her in his arms. The contradictory feelings canceled each other out, leaving him speechless and bewildered.

She stuffed her fingers in the back hip pockets of her jeans. "Oh boy," she whispered, and walked away. She took a moment, apparently to compose herself and then turned back to face him.

"I still think I should approach Richard about the Bible," she said, picking up the conversation as if there had been no interlude. No kiss. No urgency between them.

"Mich.e.l.le ..."

She raised her hand, stopping him. "I won't come out and ask him directly."

Okay, fine. If she wanted to pretend nothing had happened then that was fine by him; easier all the way around. And if she had a plan on how to get his mother's Bible then Josh was eager to hear it. "Okay, what's your idea?"

"I'll be subtle about it. I'll ... I'll ask him if he'd like me to bring him a Bible. He knows he's dying and he might want one."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I ... I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead. One step at a time, Josh. I've dealt with situations like this before. We'll get you your mother's Bible one way or another."

While Josh appreciated her efforts, he wasn't willing to suspend his search. "Maybe he's already felt the need to read the Bible," he said and walked around to the other side of the bed, to Richard's nightstand. Opening the drawer he discovered a bunch of loose coins and a couple of paperback novels.

No Bible.

He headed for the chest of drawers next, convinced Richard had purposely hidden the Bible in an effort to thwart him. The top drawer was filled with what looked to be dirty laundry. The second one down proved equally unfruitful.

Mich.e.l.le stopped him by setting her hand on his shoulder. "Josh, give me a chance," she whispered.

As much as he wanted to believe her, he had legitimate doubts. Richard had made it plain earlier that Mich.e.l.le had a choice to make. It was either side with him against Josh, or never enter this house again.

She must have read the hesitation in him because she raised her hand to his face, cupping the side of his jaw. "Josh."

The way she whispered his name-the soft pleading quality of her voice-gave him pause. His eyes searched hers.

Then, as though to prove her intent, she raised up on the tips of her toes and kissed him again. Josh had yet to recover from the first kiss. He'd wanted to think this through before anything else happened.

Well, it had, and here he was caught in the flow of an emotional stream with a current so swift he feared he would be knocked off his feet. With every ounce of resolve he possessed, Josh broke off the kiss.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"What?" she asked, her eyes burning into his. "Us kissing?"

He nodded.

"Okay." She started to turn away, but not before Josh saw the disappointment and hurt reflected in her eyes.

"Wait ..." He caught her by the shoulder and brought her back into his arms. If the first exchange of kisses had been hot, this second round was strong enough to scorch his senses. He felt a powerful surge of desire and need so strong, he feared he was about to crush Mich.e.l.le with his bare arms.

Thankfully, before it got out of hand they were interrupted by the doorbell.

They broke apart like guilty teenagers caught making out. Josh stared accusingly at the partially closed bedroom door.

"Who could that be?" Mich.e.l.le asked.

Josh already knew. "Hospice."

"Right, hospice," she repeated. "I forgot they were coming."

Josh pulled himself together first and walked out of the bedroom. Mich.e.l.le wasn't far behind him.

When he opened the door a professional-looking woman smiled back at them. "h.e.l.lo, my name is Ginger Cochran. I'm with hospice."

"Come in, please," Josh said, holding open the door for her.

As soon as she was inside the house, he closed the door to keep the cold air at bay. Richard was awake now, Josh noted, the old man's eyes fluttering as he struggled to focus.

"Who are you?" Richard asked.

"My name is Ginger. I was just telling your-"

"Stepson," Josh inserted. They hadn't had a chance to introduce themselves yet. "And this is Mich.e.l.le Nelson, Richard's next-door neighbor. She and her family have been looking in on him for the last several months."

"I know why you're here, but I'm telling you right now you made an unnecessary trip," Richard told Ginger, ignoring Josh and Mich.e.l.le. "You can leave."

"Mr. Lambert," Mich.e.l.le protested.

"I said you can go now," he repeated with surprising strength. "I don't want you here." He pointed a shaky finger at Josh. "Take him with you. He intends to rob me ... he isn't even waiting 'til I'm dead. He's already started rifling through my things."

"Mr. Lambert," Mich.e.l.le stated calmly. "That isn't true."

"You think I didn't notice that you two just came out of my bedroom?"

Josh laughed and slowly shook his head.

"I'm not here to upset you," Ginger Cochran said as she reached for her purse. "I came to make you as comfortable as possible. If you want me to leave, I will."

"Good. Leave."

"Mr. Lambert," Mich.e.l.le protested again.

"I told you earlier, I want to die in peace. My house has become like Grand Central Terminal with people coming and going. Get out of here. All of you. Just leave me alone. What does a man have to do around here to die in peace?"

"I'm sorry," Mich.e.l.le whispered to Ginger as she turned to leave.

Josh stood back as Mich.e.l.le escorted the other woman to the front door.