Page 144 of Capturing You

He got it situated, then glanced at her face. “Pain or cold?”

“Yes?”

“Fair enough.” He grabbed a throw blanket and laid it over her. “That’ll help with the cold, anyway.”

“The tablets you stuck in your pocket will help with the pain.”

“But if you don’t eat, they might make you sick.” He filled a plate from the food he’d carried up earlier and handed it to her.

The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “You’re very bossy.”

“Stubborn patients make bossy nurses.”

Her eyebrows hiked.

Memories of his own childhood injuries and illnesses overwhelmed him, and he focused on the room, the space, the here-and-now.

The furniture was still out of place after their evenings enjoying the fireplace, and the only lamp he’d lit was dim. He moved a chair closer to her and settled in it.

“Where’d you learn to be such a bossy nurse?” She ate a cracker with a square of cheese.

He grabbed a slice of apple.

They were going to have to talk about this, eventually.

“Rosie used to say that.” Just speaking his sister’s name raised a lump in his throat. “About stubborn patients.”

“Your sister?”

“Mm-hm.” He braced for the barrage of questions or accusations or…or whatever Brooklynn was going to throw at him.

Her hand slid around his wrist. “I’m sorry, Forbes. I’m so sorry that happened to them. And to you.”

The unexpected tenderness had his eyes stinging.

He hadn’t shed a tear for his family in decades. And he’d only ever talked about them to his therapist, not even to Grandmother anymore. The subject seemed too painful for her, especially where Rosie was concerned.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had expressed sympathy for his loss. How could they, when they didn’t know who he really was?

Here, in the house where they’d all lived, his family felt so close.

And farther away than ever. He missed them. He longed for them, tonight, right now, more than since he was a little boy, hiding his damp cheeks from bullies at boarding school.

Brooklynn linked their fingers and held on. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t seem to expect anything. She was just there for him.

Grief washed over him like a wave crashing on the beach. And like a wave, it rolled away again. He let it come, and let it go. And held onto Brooklynn like a life preserver.

Just when the silence started to feel awkward, Brooklynn said, “Tell me about her.”

“She was…” He swallowed fresh emotion, feeling like a fool. But Brooklynn didn’t seem embarrassed by it. “She was ten years older, but somehow she always felt like my best friend. She played with me and read to me and told me stories. She was funny and sweet and happy, and when I was sad, she could always make me smile.” He lifted his gaze to find Brooklynn watching him as if he were the most important person in the world. “You remind me of her. She was cheerful and kind, like you.”

Though he’d managed to keep his own tears at bay, Brooklynn's trailed down her cheeks. “What a nice thing to say, Forbes. Thank you.”

She should be angry that he’d lied, or at least guarded. But Brooklynn was neither. She was too filled with hope to hold a grudge, too good to be anything else.

“That last summer, Rosie was getting ready to go to college. I could already feel her pulling away. I remember thinking how lonely I would be without her.”

“Pulling away how?” Brooklynn asked.