"He'll be fine, Mrs. Steele,"
Dr. Howe assured her a few minutes later. "I tried to warn
him not to overdo things as a condition to being released, but
I don't think he considered climbing four flights of stairs at
a run overdoing," he told her with a smile.
"Remington's never been very good with stairs," Laura
responded, relieved. "How long are you going to keep him
in the hospital?"
"I'd like to keep him overnight again. But he insists that
he would prefer to be at home."
"Thank you, Dr. Howe. Now, all I have a to do is convince
Dr. Phillips that I'm ready to leave."
"Not for a few more days, Laura," Dr. Phillips told
her as he entered the room with Remington.
"Aughh! If I have to spend one more day in this bed, I'll
go crazy!"
"After all the excitement, I'd prefer being safe than sorry,
Laura. Tell you what. Stay tonight, and if things are still looking
like they are now, I'll release you to go home-but NOT to the
office full time."
"But-the agency-I can't-"
"Surely with the staff at Remington Steele Investigations
can handle things in your absence."
"But I feel perfectly fine!" she insisted.
"There's nothing pressing at the office, Laura. I think Mildred
and Tony can handle things until we get back."
"WE? Where are YOU going to be?"
"At home as well, apparently. Dr. Howe won't release me for
work either. Looks as if we're both going to get an enforced vacation."
She smiled at him. "That might not be so bad."
Dr. Phillips shook his head. "I'll see you later, Laura,
Remington." He and Dr. Howe left together.
"I still don't know how you managed to disarm Minor Descoine,
Laura-"
"She was angry that she'd missed you and I simply grabbed
the gun."
"You could have been hurt-"
"She was going to kill me, after she'd killed you. I wouldn't
have wanted to live, anyway if she'd succeeded."
Remington bent to kiss her, only to have the door open to admit
Katherine and Robert. Sighing, Remington saw the dimples appear
in Laura's cheeks. "When we get home, I'm going to unplug
all the telephones for at least a day, and refuse to answer the
door," he whispered.
"Sounds good to me," Laura told him.
Two days later, Laura lay in their bed, smiling. Remington had
been true to his word about their first day home. They'd spent
a wonderful twenty four hours here, making up for lost time. But
this morning, he had insisted that he had some things to attend
to, and gone off, leaving her with some agency paperwork that
Mildred had brought by. Work she couldn't concentrate on because
of the noise coming from downstairs.
Wondering what Remington was up to now, Laura got slowly from
the bed and went to the windows that overlooked the garden. There
was something covering the glass of the gallery, and the noises
seemed to be coming from inside. "What are you doing out
of bed, Laura?" Remington asked upon entering the room. "Dr.
Phillips was insistant that you have at least two more days off
of your feet-"
She resisted his efforts to draw her away from the window and
back to the bed. "What's going on down there?"
"Down where?" he asked.
"In the gallery. I heard noises-"
"You know these old houses, Laura, always creaking-"
"This one doesn't. You're up to something, Remington,"
she said, looking at him. "And I'm going to find out what."
He looked back at her, uncertain. "How? I'm not about to
let you walk out of this room."
Laura slid her arms around his neck. "I have my ways, Mr.
Steele."
Remington lifted her off of her feet and started for the door.
"If you insist, Laura-"
"I can walk-"
"No, you can't. Now quit squirming around." He carried
her down the stairs, past a smiling Mrs. Hobbs, to the doors of
the gallery. All was quiet inside now. "The workmen just
left for lunch," he told her.
"Workmen?"
"Mildred and I both know how difficult not going to the office
is for you- so she came up with this idea. I wish I could take
the credit for it, but-"
"You've never been squeamish about taking the credit, Remington,"
she reminded him.
"Are you going to let me finish?" He cleared his throat.
"At any rate, she suggested that I set up an office here
at the house for you. Now, I want you to remember that it's not
totally finished- They still have to hang the drapes and a few
other things, I believe, but-" he opened the doors and stood
watching her face before carrying her over to the chair behind
the desk. She reached out to touch the computer monitor.
"A computer system? How did she ever convince you-"
"I thought it would make you happy. Mildred says it will
help you to keep in touch with things at the office."
"She's right, but-" Laura looked at the walls. "What
happened to the artwork? Your gallery-"
"I've agreed to let the Halverson Gallery put it on permanent
display," he told her.
"But why?"
"I could say that I've finally realized that art should be
available for everyone to enjoy, not just the fortunate few who
can afford to buy it for their own pleasure-"
"But that wouldn't be the truth, would it?"
"Not the entire truth," he told her, coming around to
kneel beside her chair. "I suddenly realized that it could
just as easily have been you who came down here to check things
the other evening- and you might have been seriously injured.
I won't risk you or our children just for the vanity of having
a private art collection." He brought his lips to hers. "You're
far more important to me than fifteen Monets or Renoirs, Mrs.
Steele. I don't want to ever lose you."
"Don't worry, Mr. Steele. I'm not going anywhere."
He smiled. "What say we go back upstairs where you can thank
me properly for being such a thoughtful husband?"
"I DO like the way you think sometimes, Mr. Steele,"
she said, sliding her arms around his neck again.