Her fingers slipped idly through his hair as he slept hunched over the bed. Was it too much to hope that one day she, and not Kara, would bring richness to his life?
His dream moments ago — what had he meant? Kara, it’s too heavy... What was too heavy?
His eyes soon opened to find her sitting against the pillows. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“Better.” She watched him rise to stretch at the window. He’d showered, shaved, and managed a new outfit: gray sweater, white oxford and jeans. “Where’d you get the new duds?”
“Darcy, one of the staff administrators, bought them.”
“Her job description includes buying your clothes?”
“When I can’t go shopping myself,” he said, retrieving two bags from the closet.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
“Your new clothes. You didn’t think I’d have her buy mine without getting yours, too, did you?” He emptied one bag on the bed: a navy sweater, white blouse, khakis, socks and loafers.
“Darcy’s certainly thorough,” she agreed, nodding at the khakis that were already split to accommodate her cast.
He removed lingerie and a red ski jacket from the second bag. Dazzled, she studied everything. He smiled. “I believe this is where an expression of gratitude is offered.”
“Thank you.”
“I was thinking more about a kiss... or several.”
“But I thought you didn’t like counting...” She stopped as he lifted her face for a kiss. As it ended, she sighed, “You know it’s different now. We’re no longer fugitives.”
“Is that important?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes caught his. “Is it?”
“I hate it when you do this.”
“What?”
“Make up some obscure question and pretend I’m the only one who can answer it.”
“Well, you must admit it’s different now.”
“What’s different?” He shrugged. “You’re still the same pain in the ass you were before.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean we’ve returned to the world, where people have choices over their lives. Where Tyler no longer must spend his time protecting Mayson.”
Arms folded, Tyler gazed out at gray, snow-leaden Duluth. “So are you saying I should leave?”
Didn’t he realize she was trying to make this easier for him? How long would he stay now that the danger was over? Until her leg healed? Then what? A few obligatory calls for progress reports? Or would he fulfill his promises of Disney World and Redskins games?
“All I’m saying, Tyler, is that I can take care of myself now, which means you’re free to do what you want and when you want, without worrying about me.”
He watched her pick nervously at her gown. “I remember leaving the firm some evenings. I’d spot you eating supper through the glass of Giordani’s, or dashing from that Chinese place with your takeout bag — always alone. And like everyone else, I found myself wondering, why does such a bright, beautiful woman eat alone, when any guy at the firm would jump at the chance to buy her dinner?”
“It was no mystery,” she replied. “I didn’t want dinner with any guy at the firm. Just one. But he never asked me.”
“Would you have gone?”
“We’ll never know, I guess. That woman no longer exists. But you obviously have your doubts. Why?”
“Because I sensed her pushing me away just now.”
“That was me, reminding you that you’re a free man.”
“Mayson, what are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything!” she yelled. What a lie; she was terrified.
“The Culpeppers stopped by yesterday. They saved our lives, and yet I haven’t the slightest idea how to repay them.”
She studied him pensively. “I’ve wrestled with the same question for a long time now.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“That after saying thank you, there’s really nothing left but to live your life in a way that proves you’re grateful for the second chance.”
They turned as Ginny breezed in. “I couldn’t leave my shift without checking on our lovely patient here,” she said to Mayson, sitting against the pillows. “Ummm, ummm! What a good night’s sleep’ll do.”
Mayson smiled. “It’s nice finally to meet the person who’s taking such good care of me.”
“Well now, that’s our job. But it’s still nice of you to say.” Checking the IVs, she glanced at Tyler. “I thought you said she was tough. A real pussycat, this one.”
“Will Dr. Claiborne be in this morning?” he asked.
“Already has. I guess she didn’t want to wake you. Aggie said the leg looks great.” Her eyes fell to the clothes spread across the bed. “What have we here?”
“Darcy bought them,” Mayson said. “What do you think?”
“Well,” she said as she peered at the labels, “they’re better than that gown you’re wearing.”
“That’s a safe answer,” Tyler smiled.
“I think they’re nice,” Mayson nodded. “I just can’t imagine when I’ll be able to wear them.”
“Oh, I’m sure Tyler will get you into them soon enough.”
“I doubt that,” she scoffed. “He’s much more interested in getting me out of my clothes.”
As Ginny laughed, Tyler felt compelled to add, “She’s teasing, of course.”
Plopping a thermometer into Mayson’s mouth, Ginny lifted her wrist for a pulse reading. Mayson made a silly face over the inconvenience. Ginny laughed. And Tyler smiled, not in amusement but awe, as he tried to remember the woman with the cold, dark eyes, the beautiful but expressionless face, who spoke only out of necessity or irritation. Was she really gone?
“Ninety-nine.” Ginny squinted at the thermometer. “Now, that’s real progress. How about some breakfast?”
“Wonderful, I’m starving!”
The breakfast cart soon arrived, and a tray was placed before Mayson. She sipped her juice and then attacked a poached egg. “Umm, delicious!”
“Delicious?” Tyler grimaced with disgust. “It looks awful.”
“And you think grits are appetizing? So Ginny, tell me about your family. Are you married?”
“You better believe it,” she nodded. “And don’t think Tim Watson doesn’t appreciate what a lucky man he is.”
Mayson’s questions continued, until the family picture was complete. In addition to husband Tim, there were two children, Tim, Jr. and Dottie, both married and living in Duluth, and seven grandchildren, with the eighth due in April. “Holidays are wild with that noisy herd,” Ginny laughed.
“What does Tim do for a living?” Mayson asked.
“He’s a foreman on the docks. It’s hard work, but the pay’s great.”
“And did Tim, Jr. follow in his father’s footsteps?”
“Heck no. Timmy’s been dodging manual labor ever since he was born. He’s a life insurance agent.”
Tyler smiled. “I knew there must be a reason someone chose that line of work.”
“And Dottie?” Mayson asked.
“Full-time housewife and mother.” She glanced at Mayson’s empty plate. “I declare, you get me going on my family, and I lose all track of time.” Lifting the tray, she winked at Tyler. “Yep, you’ve got a real sweetie here.”
“Have a great Christmas!” Mayson called as Ginny left.
Tyler studied her in awe. “That was some performance. If we weren’t leaving, I expect you’d soon have every doctor, nurse and orderly eating out of your hand.”
“Leaving?” Mayson frowned. “When?”
“Tomorrow. I’ve already cleared it with Dr. Claiborne.”
“But not with me. I’m the one who just had surgery.”
He’d assumed she would be thrilled. “You’re leaving. It’s settled.”
“To the contrary. It’s not settled, and I’m not leaving.” She wasn’t ready to deal with her new freedom and its limitless options. And until she was, the hospital was much safer than the frightening world beyond. “Tyler, I’m not your responsibility.”
“No, you’re my friend. And I thought I was yours.”
Folding her arms, she retorted, “For the sake of argument, let’s say I was crazy enough to leave tomorrow... who would provide my medical care?”
“Moss Sternfield, an orthopedic friend of mine.”
“Have you talked to him about this? Maybe he doesn’t want to treat me. And maybe I don’t want him to.”
“You’d rather spend Christmas in the hospital?”
“It’s just three days away,” she fretted. “People are already traveling. I bet you can’t even get a flight.”
“The flight won’t be a problem.”
“Then you’ve already made reservations?”
“Are you afraid my family won’t like you – is that it?”
“Of course not. I just can’t believe you made all these arrangements without consulting me.”
“You’ve been indisposed. Have you forgotten?”
“I’m still indisposed, you dope! But if I wasn’t, for the sake of argument, when would we leave?”
“I’m not sure.”
“How can you not be sure? You just said you’d made flight reservations.”
“I mean that our departure time depends on how long it takes to get to the airport. That’s not a routine question, given that the media has laid siege to the hospital.”
She stared at him, convinced that one of them was insane. “Flight times, Tyler, aren’t determined on the basis of when the passengers are ready to leave. Are you saying that if the media ambushed us on the way to the airport tomorrow, the plane would simply wait until we arrived?”
“Well, Jock certainly wouldn’t leave without us... It’s the silverware thing, isn’t it? Fork or spoon?”
“How many times do I have to say it: I’m not afraid... Jock? You know the pilot’s name?”
“I’d be dumb as hell if I didn’t.”
“Why? I mean whoever knows their pilot’s name? Next, I guess you’ll tell me the plane has a name, too.”
“If not the forks and spoons, then what? Your accent? The pedigree thing?”
“Yes, you are. And the jet’s name is the James River Eagle. Only we call it J.R. for short. Like the guy on Dallas, remember?”
Her head was swimming with the fragments of too many conversations. “Now what are you yammering about?”
“You asked the plane’s name. Now, what are you afraid of?”
“Listen carefully, Tyler, because I’ll say it just once. I’m not afraid of your silverware, my pedigree-less ancestry, my accent, your family, your dogs, or anything else.”
“There’s just one. Church.”
“Stop doing that!” she shrieked.
“What?”
“Changing the subject every time I say something.”
“You’re the one who brought up my dog.”
“You have a dog named Church?”
“A golden retriever. Schuyler and I used to take him hunting on Sunday mornings. Only Church liked chasing squirrels more than retrieving. Not that we gave him much to chase – a dove every now and then, an occasional buck. But we always had fun.” He glowed with deep affection. “Damn, I miss that dog.”
Yes, she could see that. She loved Church already. “How did he get his name?”
“Sunday mornings are when most people go to church, Hunter Leigh was forever reminding us. ‘But go ahead and hunt,’ she’d say. ‘We’ll pray for you at St. Vincent’s. Maybe God will understand. And then again, maybe He won’t.’ I guess naming my dog Church was a way of letting her know she wouldn’t dampen our fun.” His eyes dimmed. “We haven’t hunted much lately. I guess that’s bothered Church. But I couldn’t help losing that passion you need to crawl from the covers on a freezing November morning and shoot the first thing that moves.”
“That passion,” she asked. “Do you think you’ll ever get it back?”
“I think I already have. Only Church is too old to go with me now. He turned thirteen in September. The squirrels would just laugh to see him creaking through the woods. I couldn’t have him embarrassed that way. I love him too much.”
And he loves you, she thought. And so do I. Please Tyler, love me me back.
“You’ll meet Church tomorrow,” he said now. “He has white whiskers. And his joints creak. But...”
It hit her suddenly. Not Church, but the other thing he was saying. “The J.R. Eagle is your family’s plane. That’s why we don’t need reservations — and Jock’s your pilot!”
“Amazing,” he confirmed. “So with all that established, and your discharge cleared, that leaves only your fear standing between us and the morning flight.” If it wasn’t the silverware, the pedigree, the accent, or this foreign world, Castlewood, what was it? Did the subject of Kara still weigh heavily on her mind?
Expectantly, her eyes lifted, ready for his next word, his next expression. In that instant, the world became for him as clear as it had ever been.