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  Once she had finished washing his upper body, she took a deep breath and hesitated before removing some of the pillows used to prop him in a slightly upright position. Harlan studied her apprehensive look, catching her attention.

  “Are we friends?” he asked in an oddly timid tone.

  She glanced at him and attempted to keep her cheeks from turning red, which proved useless. “Yes, we're friends.”

  The way he studied her was almost nerve-racking.

  “So this isn't awkward for you?”

  Indy couldn’t help but smile and managed a nervous laugh. “I assure you, it's very awkward.”

  “Oh--” he said softly without taking his eyes off her. “Sorry.”

  Indy reluctantly pulled the covers back, saw what awaited her, and hurriedly pulled the covers back up to his waist. She knew her face was bright red after what she’d just witnessed. If it wasn’t enough that she’d now seen Harlan naked, his soldier saluting her was almost enough to send her into panic mode. She had no idea what she was supposed to do.

  Harlan offered a tiny, almost embarrassed smile. “I said I was sorry.”

  Indy shot a look at him, allowing her mouth to fall open with surprise. Despite his attempt at sympathy, she wasn’t buying his apology.

  “You know, you're like an uncle to me,” she finally blurted out as her only recourse to the image burned into her mind.

  He suddenly snorted a humored laugh. “Yeah, a dirty perverted uncle.”

  Indy glared at him. Harlan grinned and chuckled despite her obvious embarrassment. She wondered if it was somehow her fault, because she lingered while washing his battle scars. She suddenly realized she wasn’t fully prepared to wash Harlan’s private parts, especially in his aroused state. Indy considered her options then met Harlan’s gaze. She felt bad, because he wasn’t doing it intentionally, but she also needed to put an end to the behavior. She stared into his eyes and removed all sympathy.

  “I can just as easily wash you with cold water,” she announced boldly.

  Harlan stared at her with a look of near shock. “You’d do that? I thought we were friends.”

  She fidgeted then frowned. “Yes, we’re friends,” she informed him. “That means you need to behave.”

  “I’m not purposely misbehaving,” he replied.

  Indy knew he meant that. It wasn’t his fault, and she felt bad for suggesting using cold water on him. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “I know,” she replied gently. “I’m sorry. Let’s just get this over with.”

  Indy pulled the covers back, and, despite what awaited her, she began washing him. Harlan shut his eyes, groaned softly, and squirmed slightly. Indy felt her cheeks become hot and red.

  “Stop that,” she huffed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The large funeral home and crematorium almost resembled a castle nestled on a hill surrounded by woods and without any homes nearby. The massive yard was well maintained with plants, shrubs, and comforting fountains. The funeral home was located down a back road less than a mile from Indy’s house. A newer model hearse was parked beneath the covered, side entrance. It was the following day, and Indy’s car was parked outside the main entrance. Within the embalming room, Kale stood over a neatly dressed, older dead man on the metal, prep table. He removed the man's glasses and shoes and set them on the nearby table. Indy sat on an older desk in the corner with her head leaning back against the wall. She was in her own world and barely noticed what Kale was doing.

  “What you're going through isn't uncommon, Indy,” Kale informed her while keeping his attention focused on the man on the table. “You're having a hard time dealing with your idea of a strong, independent man being reduced to a helpless state. It's understandable.”

  “I wish it were just that,” Indy muttered then ran her fingers through her hair.

  She considered if she wanted to discuss the events of the last two mornings with her friend. Kale had a habit of over thinking things, but he would eventually realize there was more bothering her. She reluctantly gave in, deciding to share her problems, and leaned forward on the desktop.

  “The visiting nurse quit yesterday morning. Harlan verbally assaulted her,” she announced then reluctantly muttered, “maybe even physically. Liz said the agency wouldn’t send anyone to replace her without promise that Harlan be sedated.”

  Kale cast a strange look at her. His confusion was obvious. “What do they honestly think Harlan’s capable of doing? I thought the man had two broken arms?”

  “Two broken arms, a broken leg, three fractured ribs, head trauma, and more stitches then Frankenstein's monster,” she announced with a dreary sigh. “That doesn't change the fact that he knows how to apply minimal pressure for maximum pain.”

  The look on Kale’s face showed his concern toward what she just told him. “Is he dangerous?”

  She stared at him with disbelief. “Of course he's dangerous,” Indy boldly announced. “It’s a job requirement. There are no choirboys enlisted with Delta Force.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  “You mean could he unknowingly hurt someone?” she asked while tilting her head. “Yes, there's that risk. He's coming off the drugs, so he's a little cranky. Thank God his casts come off in two weeks.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kale remarked and returned to his client. “What will that help?”

  “He’ll be able to wash himself,” she remarked almost too quickly.

  Kale suddenly turned and stared at her, his mouth hanging open with a strange realization. “Who's washing him now?”

  Indy frowned in response and raised her hand. Kale stared at her with astonishment.

  “You're washing him? All of him?”

  “Someone has to,” Indy replied with little reaction and wondered why Kale seemed so stunned. “My father and Jackson draw the line at washing another man's privates.”

  Kale was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. “I'm not sure how I feel about you giving sponge baths to your father's military buddy.”

  “Why should you be uncomfortable?” she suddenly demanded. “You're not the one bathing him.”

  His glare turned almost demanding. “We're practically dating, Indy,” Kale informed her. “Of course it’s going to make me uncomfortable. He’s only a few years older than me.”

  Indy stared at him matter-of-fact. His comment had successfully surprised her, and she needed to set the record straight.

  “We're not practically dating.”

  She never understood why Kale seemed to think there was something brewing between them. She’d never led him on…ever. Indy reinstated the fact that they were just friends on nearly every occasion. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on his part.

  Kale appeared uncomfortable by her comment and shifted. “Okay, let's not get into this debate right now,” he announced then indicated the elderly man on the table. “I have to cremate Mr. Lowell. Why don’t I meet you upstairs in the kitchen in a few minutes?”

  Indy jumped off the desk as if on command. She wasn’t looking forward to another debate on how she and Kale were not a couple. She was growing tired of having to explain that little fact to him. Indy didn’t understand how he kept mixing the two. As she headed for the embalming room door, she glanced back at Kale, who undressed the dead, elderly man. Kale avoided looking at her, and she knew it wasn’t because he was so engrossed in his work. It was going to be another long afternoon.

  †

  Indy sat at the kitchen table within Kale’s living quarters, huddled over a cup of tea. The funeral home had been in Liz and Kale’s family for several generations. Kale and Liz had recently returned home to take over the business after their uncle unexpectedly died from a massive heart attack. Liz took less of an interest in the family business, although she did help out during funerals. Indy never understood why her father moved Liz into their home when she had plenty of living space at the funeral home. Kale now lived in the massive home by hi
mself. Perhaps Kale preferred it that way. Indy liked Liz and didn’t mind that she shared her home with her father’s girlfriend. However, there were times when Indy felt as if she was the one actually living with Liz. Once her father retired and returned home, it would seem more natural.

  Indy heard someone moving around within the house. Kale never locked the door, but she wished he would when he was working in the basement. Anyone could walk in and sneak up on him. Indy knew it was ridiculous to be so suspicious. They lived in a small town and the funeral home was practically in the middle of nowhere. Who would really wander in? And yet there was someone in the house now.

  “Hello?” came Margo’s voice from down the hall. “Where is everybody?”

  She felt relief to the familiar voice of her friend. “Margo, in the kitchen!”

  Indy was actually surprised Margo stopped by. She worked during the week, which was where she should be now. Town was the opposite direction. Margo entered the kitchen with a paper bag clutched in her hand. She saw Indy and grinned while holding up the bag.

  “Hope you don't mind if I crash your lunch date,” Margo teased as she approached.

  “It's not a date,” Indy scoffed under her breath.

  Margo appeared surprised by her friend’s surly comment. “Ouch, you're testy today,” she announced and raised a curious brow. “Was Harlan hard on you this morning?”

  Indy glared in response to her friend’s humor at her situation. “Not funny,” she snarled. “And please don't say anything in front of Kale. He's already seething with jealousy.”

  “He should be,” Margo chirped while setting the bag on the table. “Harlan gets a sponge bath and a hand job, and all Kale gets is a friendly handshake.”

  “I'm regretting telling you anything,” Indy said curtly and glared at her friend. “And I didn’t give him a hand job. I barely touched him.” She squirmed in her chair. “It’s not my fault that guys who abstain for long periods of time are fully loaded with a hairpin trigger.”

  “So you’re saying your house is filled with a bunch of quick draws?” Margo teased.

  Indy rolled her eyes at her friend’s comment. The image flashing in her mind was enough to make her ill. Margo joined her at the table and removed several sandwiches from the bag.

  Despite Margo’s grin, she attempted a crude apology. “I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.” She glanced at Indy with a curious look while handing her a sandwich. “You're really bothered by this, aren't you?”

  Indy groaned softly and leaned back in her chair. She stared at the sandwich with a lack of appetite.

  “Harlan has no idea who I am or even who he is, but he remembered I gave him a sponge bath yesterday,” Indy informed her. “He was a little too enthusiastic to see me this morning. It's very uncomfortable having the man I idolized growing up getting excited over me bathing him.”

  “Harlan doesn't even know his own name,” Margo reminded her. “I know you're bothered because he's your father's best friend and someone you've looked up to most of your life, but he's coming off a shitload of painkillers and had his brains scrambled. He's lucky to be alive.” She offered a gentle, reassuring smile. “Let him enjoy his sponge baths for another two weeks. He probably won't remember any of it anyway.”

  “I suppose you're right,” Indy replied with a sigh then looked at her friend. “I just wish his wife would offer to help out. It wouldn't be nearly as awkward for her to bathe him.”

  “Have you heard from her since you brought him home?” Margo asked.

  “She called once, but she hasn’t stopped by yet,” Indy replied then shook her head. “What’s her problem? Liz and I were on the next flight out when we heard the guys had been wounded. The least she could have done was show up at the hospital once he was transferred to the states.”

  Margo shifted in her chair and gently shrugged her shoulders. “Some women make lousy wives.”

  “You know, when he married her, I thought she was the luckiest woman in the world,” Indy announced. “I was so envious of her. Now, I just loathe her. I don’t know how she can be so insensitive to the man she married.”

  Her friend studied her distant expression for a long moment. Margo shifted in her chair then leaned on the table while meeting her gaze.

  “Sounds like you’re a tad jealous,” Margo remarked.

  “Of Maureen?” Indy suddenly bellowed and shook her head. “No, absolutely not.”

  “I meant that she married Harlan,” she replied gently. “You had a crush on him when you were a little girl, didn’t you?”

  Indy frowned and attempted to avoid looking into Margo’s eyes. “A little one.”

  “You love the guy, I get it,” Margo replied. “We all have that little girl crush holding a special spot in our hearts.”

  “Unfortunately, mine has crossed the line the last two mornings,” Indy announced. “He’s inappropriately aroused by me when he otherwise wouldn’t be.” She remained uncomfortable. “I’m worried it’s stirring up old feelings for him that I’d buried a long time ago.”

  “And in two weeks,” Margo reminded her, “everything will go back to the way it was meant to be. Let him have his fun until his memory resets. He needs you, and you’re the reason he’s going to recover. Not Maureen.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After a tense lunch at Kale’s house, Indy entered the foyer of her home to find her father sitting at the bottom of the heavily decorated stairs. His hands were clasped between his knees and a frown was chiseled on his face. His expression and posture immediately worried her. She was sensitive to his moods, since he didn’t have a wide range to begin with. Had Harlan’s unexpected, long-term visit finally destroyed her father’s relationship with Liz? Then a more frightening thought occurred to her. Had her father somehow discovered Harlan’s off-color behavior during his baths the last two mornings? The thought frightened her. She had no idea how her father would react to that sort of news. Indy gently shut the front door without taking her eyes off him. It frightened her that he hadn’t looked up when she entered.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked in a tone almost too soft for him to hear.

  Flynn groaned softly and flashed a paper he’d been holding. “Maureen filed for divorce,” he replied then looked at Indy with something that resembled a sneer on his face. “Diminished mental capacity.”

  Indy felt her heart sink in her chest. “He's still recovering,” she suddenly cried out. The sinking in her heart was immediately replaced with her rising blood pressure. “How can she do that to him?”

  Flynn inhaled deeply and straightened where he sat on the step. “Harlan said their relationship had been in doubt for a couple of years,” he announced then finally shook his head with disgust. “I'm going to get a good lawyer to represent his estate. We're going to use our care expenses against Maureen to keep her from cleaning him out.” He ran his hand firmly over his bald head and refrained from cursing, although Indy was sure he wanted to let the profanities fly. “Thank God he's in his own little world right now. I'd hate to break this to him.”

  She approached her father on the staircase and attempted to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she needed was to set her father off by spewing her own curse-laced tangent.

  “It's going to be fine, Dad,” she informed him in the gentlest tone she could manage. “We'll look after Harlan.”

  Flynn smiled at her as he stood and hugged her. She immediately returned the warm embrace. Although his strong arms came close to crushing her, she didn’t complain. Her father could strangle her in his arms like a python, and she wouldn’t complain. She was just happy he was around to hold her. Too often, she feared he’d never return.

  “I am so lucky to have such a wonderful daughter,” he announced while clinging to her. “I'll never forget what you're doing for Harlan.” He pulled away and smiled at her. “When he’s back on his feet, I'm going to send you and your friends on a nice vacation.”

  “That's not necessary.”


  “I know, but I want to do it.” His smile turned into a frown. “You deserve it after having to bathe a grown man.” Flynn chuckled lowly. “Is it wrong that I'm glad it's not me doing it?”

  “No, Dad,” she replied and held back her laugh. She couldn’t even imagine her father washing a grown man. “How's he doing this afternoon?”

  “He's been in a great mood since this morning,” he replied, thankfully not connecting the dots between Harlan’s bath and his good mood. “Still a little nutty, but I'm thinking about bringing him out to sit with us tonight. It's Christmas Eve. He should be getting up and walking around a little more.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Indy announced with a pleased smile. “I should probably take him some lunch.”

  “Liz took care of that a little while ago. She wanted to help out,” he reported then offered a pleased smile. “I think she's finally warming up to the idea of Harlan staying here a while.”

  “That’s a relief,” Indy remarked aloud then immediately regretted it.

  She didn’t want her father to know she had her concerns about Liz’s feelings toward Harlan. Flynn gave her a strange look and immediately tilted his head in question.

  “Were you worried?”

  Indy wanted to avoid responding, but her father would never let it go. When he wanted answers, he used years of interrogation training on her. It was easier just to answer his questions willingly and end her suffering quickly.

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some tension between you and Liz,” she replied gently.

  “You don’t need to worry about me and Liz,” he informed her while grinning. “Things between us are just fine.”

  Indy gave her father a sharp look, because she knew that was a lie. She knew they hadn’t been intimate since he returned. Liz wasn’t exactly quiet about romantic interludes, which seemed to happen with great frequency. He seemed to understand the look she gave him and both fidgeted with embarrassment. Her father smiled warmly, placed his arm around her shoulder, and indicated the decorations on the staircase.