KEEGAN DROVE INTO the nicely landscaped park but passed the restroom building and kept going to a picnic area which currently had no picnickers and probably wouldn’t until at least May. He parked his Tahoe, settled his left arm over the steering wheel and just stared at Carrie.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why did we stop here? What are you doing?”
He kept the car running, heating the interior comfortably. “You want to talk so badly… Well, let’s talk.”
She sat a bit straighter. “I don’t know if I want to talk anymore. Why don’t you take a crack at it?”
“Okay, I will.” He angled his body so he was closer to her, his knee practically touching her thigh. “First of all, Carrie, are you for real?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sorry to be so blunt, but you are a combination of so many contrasting characteristics, that sometimes you make my head spin. One minute you’re this creative environmentalist who hates to see one acre of land go to waste…”
“Well, is that so bad…”
“No interruptions. This is my time. The next minute you’re a sunshiney do-gooder who believes the world is a beautiful place and who is determined to make everyone happy, improve everyone’s situation, whether they want you to or not. And then there’s the Carrie who runs around hugging trees and who has probably seen fairies in the forest.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen a fairy.”
He was almost surprised she hadn’t. “Okay, but what about the rest of it? You manipulated Taylor and me into your idea of happiness. You talk to your sisters as if you alone can make them see the positive side of everything. Let me tell you something, Carrie. The world can be a cruel and challenging place. A lot of bad things happen because of a lot of bad people and the whims of an extremely vengeful Mother Nature. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it.”
She clasped her hands in her lap and stared at them. For a moment he thought she might be close to tears. Well, too bad. Someone had to tell this woman that lies of convenience, like inventing a husband when you needed one, claiming you were in Michigan when you were recuperating a few hours from home, often didn’t work out the way you wanted them to. And making a world look beautiful with trees and flowers didn’t make it so. And manipulating lives to suit your expectations of how people should act could get you in a heap of trouble.
Was he sorry she’d brought Taylor here? No, as it turned out, he wasn’t. Was he still angry at her for taking such liberties with their lives? Yeah, he was. She had no right to tamper with his personal business and to manipulate a future she didn’t know would work.
He cleared his throat, refusing to let his guilt for being so blunt infuse his words now. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Sure.” She looked up at him. Her eyes glistened with moisture, but her mouth was set in a determined line. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Okay. Many times I’ve felt sorry for me, too.”
“You have your outlook, and I understand you’ve come by it honestly, by seeing the horrors of war and devastation. But you chose that kind of life. I chose my life as well, and I have my outlook, too. I’ve come by it by trying to make the world a better place.”
He harrumphed. “And so have I in my way. But I’m a realist, Carrie. You’re a…”
“I know what I am! Go ahead, be cynical. That’s all you’ve been in years. But no one forced you to follow every trail of destruction, to witness lives shattered, homes destroyed, futures ruined.” She glared at him, an inner fire now lighting her eyes. “You were a good reporter. Heck, you’re even famous. But here’s what I think. I think you got some kind of high out of seeing the awfulness of mankind. And it confirms what your dark, brooding soul has always believed—that our world is a miserable place, and those who live in it are miserable, too. And that, Keegan Breen, is sad, and that’s why I feel sorry for you.”
“You know what I think, Carrie?”
She scowled at him. “Yes. You’ve made it quite clear.”
He smiled because in truth he was enjoying this moment more than many he’d experienced in a long time. He more than liked this fighter Carrie. He more than admired her. “I think we’ve pegged each other pretty accurately. We haven’t been together two weeks yet, and we know each other as well as if we’d been friends for years.”
She almost smiled back at him but at the last moment got control of her lips and frowned. “Do you even have any friends, Keegan? Do you really think of me as a friend?”
“A few. And no. I don’t think of you as a friend. I’m not quite sure what I do think of you, but a buddy, a pal, isn’t it.” He reached across the space between them and put his hand on her knee. “The other night I kissed you, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
“I’m going to do it again. I’ve been thinking about doing it all three days that Taylor was here. Heck, I’ve been thinking about it since I pulled you out of your car.”
Her eyes widened. She took in a sharp breath. “I can’t imagine why you would want to. I mean, if we’re oil and water…”
“I can’t imagine, either,” he said, drawing her close to his chest. His hand caressed the side of her face. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You baffle me, Carrie. You confuse and destabilize me.” His lips brushed hers. “But dang, if you don’t make me look at the world a little differently.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
He smiled. “Not always for an eternal pessimist, but right now, yes.”
His mouth covered hers, and he tasted sweetness and goodness and hope. And most of all Carrie, the brightest ray of whatever fate or angel or mischievous heavenly entity had sent her into a snowdrift that day. His chest expanded with the effort of keeping his heartbeat in rhythm.
Her lips softened against his. He moved his head, seeking more of her, drawing her into whatever might still be decent in his soul. She moaned, a gentle responsive sound that made him deepen the kiss until there was nothing but the two of them, the subtle hum of the car heater and this brilliant winter day.
* * *
MARTIN STUDIED THE reports from the geriatric specialty doctor and the neurologist. Both professionals had been to Dancing Falls today. The neurologist had left a comprehensive report and the geriatric doctor was still standing by Maggie’s bedside.
Looking up from reading the report, Martin said, “You’ve looked at these, Ron?”
“I have.”
“What do you think?”
“You’re a doctor, Martin. You know as well as I do what those reports…”
“Don’t try to sidestep giving your professional opinion, Ron. We’ve known each other too long. And you’re the geriatric guy, the one who sees his patients through end-of-life situations.” He paused long enough to take a deep, steadying breath. “How long does she have?”
“I don’t know, Martin. A few days, maybe a few weeks yet. You know that sometimes death is a slow and difficult journey.”
There was much to prepare, so much Martin had refused to take care of while he still maintained some hope for a miracle. “Your best guess, Ron,” he said in a hoarse voice.
Dr. Ron Norton sighed. “Okay, leaving out the stats which you can clearly read for yourself—the slowed pulse rate, the diminishing brain wave activity—we have other signs that Maggie is entering the last phase of life. You told me that she has a hard time swallowing and will only take ice chips or Popsicles. Her skin is thin and colorless. There are liver spots on her hands and feet and all her extremities are cool to the touch.”
He stared down at the patient he had been visiting regularly for over two years. “But her breathing is stable. There is movement behind her eyes. Her legs and arms are still limber, and most importantly, there is no evidence of pain. She’s peaceful, Martin. You should be thankful for that.”
“What are you talking about?”
Both men turned as Jude came into the room. She walked on bare feet, having obviously left her boots and socks downstairs. “Dr. Norton, you make it sound as if Mom is dying.”
Martin put his arm around Jude. “Honey, you knew this time would come…”
“But not now. We’re not ready.”
Martin put his hand on the side of Jude’s head and pressed her face to his shoulder. “No, Jude, not now. She’s not dying now. But we have to accept…” His voice faltered. “It could be soon.”
Jude stood straight and walked to the bedside. In her typical attire of jeans and an old plaid shirt, she looked like the young tomboy daughter he’d never quite understood, Martin thought. But at least he could take comfort from the fact that Jude had found her happiness after years of trials and sadness.
“I have to call Carrie. She needs to be here,” Jude said.
“There’s time, Jude,” Dr. Norton said. “Your mother’s death isn’t imminent.”
“But Carrie would want to know…”
“We’ll alert her when it’s necessary,” Martin said. “Let’s not disturb her work until we know something more definite. There’s nothing she can do anyway. And Alex is close by. Maybe she’ll come for the weekend.”
Jude took her father’s hand. “But, Daddy, what about you? I want to help you through this, but I don’t know how. I don’t know what you need.”
“You girls are what I need—when the time comes. You three and your mother are all I’ve ever needed.”
“At least let me call Aurora,” Jude said. “She would want to be with you.”
“Yes, she probably would, and there’s no doubt Aurora would be a comfort to me, but right now she is suffering from the loss of her son.” He smiled at his daughter, though his lips trembled with the effort. “I’m going downstairs with Dr. Norton, honey. Why don’t you sit with Mom for a while? It will help you find some peace with what is going to happen.”
She nodded. “Wesley is in the kitchen. Don’t tell him, Daddy. He still thinks his grandma is sleeping. He still reads her stories and picks out TV shows for her.”
“I won’t tell him.” He followed Dr. Norton to the door but stopped and turned back to his daughter.
“Jude…”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“You are a help to me every day, even if I don’t tell you as much as I should. Each of my girls is special, but you’re the strong one. I depend on you, Judie. You’ve always stood up for what you believe in, no matter the consequences. Your strength has seen you through many heartaches, and a simple man of science like me can learn a lot from you.”
She ran a finger under her nose and sniffed. “Thank you, Daddy.”