A Love Beyond Words

“Of course. How is Mrs. Baker, by the way?”

“Living with her sister and grumbling about it,” Allie said with a chuckle. “Jane is very independent. She thinks her sister is a stick-in-the-mud. A half hour ago, you could have heard all about it.”

His devastating smile tugged at his lips. “She was here?”

“Yesterday and today. She says it’s to check on me, but I think she’s just desperate to get away from her sister.”

“I know the feeling,” Ricky said.

“You have a sister?”

“Four of them.”

Fascinated by the idea of such a large family, Allie sat on the side of the bed and regarded him eagerly. “Tell me about them.”

He looked doubtful. “You can’t really want to hear about my sisters.”

“I do,” she assured him. “I was an only child. I’ve always been envious of big families. Tell me about your parents, too. Is your mother Cuban?”

“How did you guess?”

“Your coloring and your first name are Hispanic, but your last name is Wilder. Those looks had to come from somebody.”

He laughed. “Ah, deductive reasoning. Yes, my mother is Cuban. She met my father at school when she had just come to the United States. She swears she fell madly in love with him at first sight.”

“And your father, what does he say?”

“He says she didn’t look twice at him until they were twenty and he’d used up all his savings sending her roses.”

Allie chuckled. “Maybe she just liked roses.”

“That was part of it, I’m sure, but Mama has always understood the nuances of courtship. She might have been madly in love, but she wanted my father to prove his love before she agreed to a marriage that would be forever.”

“And the roses proved that?”

“No, but the persistence did.”

“And she passed all of this wisdom on to her children, I suppose, assuring that all of you have nice, secure relationships.”

“Let’s just say that my sisters each made their prospective husbands jump through hoops before they said yes. On occasion I felt sorry for the poor men. They had no idea what they were getting into. Sometimes I tried to warn them when they showed up for the first date, but it was too late. My sisters are very beautiful, and the men were already half in love with them before they arrived at the house.”

“How about you? How have you made your mother’s wisdom work for you?” she asked, surprised by how much she wanted to know if Ricky Wilder was married or single and how very much she wanted it to be the latter.

“I haven’t. Haven’t met a woman yet I wanted to impress.”

“But I’m sure you’re swimming in eager admirers,” she said, teasing to hide her relief.

“What makes you think that?”

“Please,” she chided. “Look in the mirror.”

His grin spread. “Are you trying to say that you think I’m handsome, Allie Matthews?”

“Facts are facts,” she said, as if she were stating no more than that. She hardly wanted him to know that he was capable of making her blood sizzle with little more than a glance. “Back to your sisters. Tell me about them.”

He settled into the room’s one chair. “Let’s see, then. Maria is the oldest. She’s thirty-six and has four children—all boys, all holy terrors. Each of them is fascinated by bugs and snakes and chameleons. To her horror, they’re constantly bringing their finds home and letting them loose in the house. I told her it’s penance for all the rotten things she ever did to me as a kid.”

Allie laughed, sympathizing with the other woman’s dismay. “How does she handle it?”

“She gives her husband and the boys exactly five minutes to find the missing creature and get rid of it.”

“And if they fail?”

“She leaves and goes shopping. She can buy herself a lot of perfume and lingerie in a very short period of time. She claims her skill with a credit card is excellent motivation for her husband.”

“I don’t know,” Allie said doubtfully. “Some husbands might consider the prospect of a little sexy lingerie as a benefit, rather than a threat.”

Ricky grinned. “I know. I don’t think she’s figured that out yet.” His expression sobered. “Then again, maybe she has. Maria is a very sneaky woman.”

“And the others?” Allie prodded.

“Elena is next. She’s thirty-five and is married to a doctor. They have only one child so far, because they waited until her husband’s medical practice was well established before starting a family. My mother prayed for her every day. She will not be happy until there are enough grandchildren to start their own school.”

“Are the other two sisters cooperating?” Allie asked eagerly, already able to envision the noisy family gatherings.

“Daniela and Margarita are twins. My mother despaired of ever getting them both married, because they took their own sweet time about it. Neither married until they turned thirty and had their own careers. Daniela is a stockbroker. Margarita is a teacher. Daniela has two daughters and insists that she’s through. Margarita has a son and a daughter, but she’s expecting again and the doctor thinks it might be twins. Needless to say, my mother is ecstatic.”

“I think I would love your mother,” Allie said wistfully. “And your sisters. I love my parents dearly, but they never anticipated having children at all. They’re both college professors and loved the quiet world of academia. I came as a total shock to them. Not that they didn’t adore me and give me everything a child could possibly want, but I always knew that I was a disruption in their lives. They would be horrified if they knew that I’d sensed that.”

Ricky’s gaze narrowed. “Do they know you’re in the hospital?”

“Yes, and before you judge them, they did offer to fly down, but it’s the beginning of the fall semester.”

“So what?”

“I couldn’t ask them to do that. It would disrupt their classes.”

Ricky stared at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious. That’s why they’re not here?”

“They’re not here because I told them not to come,” Allie said defensively. “We would have ended up in a hotel, anyway. It just didn’t make sense.”

“You’ve just been through a terrible storm,” he said indignantly. “Your house was destroyed. You’re in the hospital. They should have been on the next plane, no matter what you said.”

Allie refused to admit that a part of her had hoped they would do exactly that, but she had known better. They had taken her at her word, because it had suited them. It didn’t mean they didn’t love her. They were just practical, and they’d never been especially demonstrative except for those weeks after she’d lost her hearing. That it had taken such a thing to get their attention had grated terribly.

“I won’t defend my parents to you,” she said stiffly.

He seemed about to say something more but fell silent instead, his expression troubled.