Читать книгу Everyday Blessings - Jillian Hart - Страница 7

Aubrey McKaslin didn’t know if she was coming or going. All she knew was that her eighteen-month-old niece was crying in agony, holding her fists to her ears. The little girl’s cries echoed in the coved ceiling of the dining nook of her stepsister Danielle’s home. To top it off, her almost five-year-old nephew Tyler was refusing to eat his dinner.

She was running on four hours’ sleep at the end of a difficult day that came at the end of a very bad week, and she was at her wit’s end. And she wasn’t the only one. Tyler, always a good and dependable boy, gave his plate a push away from him at the table and shot her a mulish glare.

“I want Mommy. I don’t want Mexi-fries!” He choked back a sob, his eyes full of pain. “I want my d-daddy. I want him to come h-home.”

“I know, but he can’t come, pumpkin. He’s still in the hospital.” Aubrey ran a loving hand over his tousled head. “You know he would be here with you if he could.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s sick, honey.” Aubrey’s heart broke as she bounced the weepy little girl on her hip, to comfort her. With her free hand, she knelt to brush her fingertips down the little boy’s nose. It usually made him smile, but not this evening. No, it had been a rough day for all of them.

On days like this, she wanted to know why so many hardships. She’d take it to the Lord in prayer, but she knew that life was like this, sometimes difficult, sometimes beyond understanding. All she could do was make the best of such an awful day.

“But why’s he sick?” Fat tears glistened in Tyler’s sorrowful eyes. “Why?”

Tyler’s dad, Jonas, wasn’t sick. He’d slipped into a degenerating coma, as the doctor had told them this afternoon. Jonas was a state trooper who’d been shot ten days ago when he’d stopped a speeder, who apparently had an outstanding warrant for his arrest and didn’t want to be caught. The man was still at large.

“When I’m sick, I hafta stay in bed or quiet on the couch.” The boy’s soulful eyes were filled with such innocence. “Daddy can, too?”

How could she explain this to him so he’d understand? Aubrey was at a loss. She loved her nephew; in the end, that’s all she could do for him. Love him through his pain. “Your daddy is so sick he has to stay at the hospital.”

“N-no?” Tyler choked on a sob. “I w-want my da-daddy. He’s gotta have M-Mexi-fries.”

So, that’s what this was about. She’d picked up fast-food Mexican meals on her way here to take turns sitting with the kids. Aubrey knew now why Tyler was so upset. It was a standing jest in the family that Mexi-fries, which were seasoned, deep-fried Tater Tots from a local taco place, could solve a host of problems. Being sick was one of them. “How about I ask your aunt Ava to take care of that? Will that make you feel better?”

“Y-yes.” Tyler was sobbing so hard he choked.

Poor little boy. Aubrey’s heart broke all over again for him as she wrapped her free arm around him. He clung to her, crying as hard as the baby in her other arm. How their mother handled this on a daily basis, Aubrey didn’t know. Talk about a tough job.

But an important one. A job she’d given up hope on ever having as her own considering the way her life was going. She pressed a kiss to Tyler’s temple. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Y-yeah.” He hiccupped and let go to rub his tears away with his fists. “I’m a big boy.”

“Yes, you are. A very big boy. You’re doing a terrific job, champ.”

“Y-yeah.” He gave a sniff and stared at his plate. “Do I gotta eat the Mexi-fries?”

“Try to eat something, okay?” She rubbed her free hand over Madison’s soft, downy head. The antibiotics she’d picked up earlier hadn’t kicked in yet, or at least not enough, and she was still in misery. “I’m going to try rocking her again. I’ll be right over here if you need me.”

“O-kay.” Tyler hiccupped again, wrestling down his own misery, and stared halfheartedly at his plate.

Madison wrapped her little fists in Aubrey’s long blond hair and yanked, at the same time burying her face in Aubrey’s neck.

Poor baby. Aubrey began humming a Christian pop tune, the first thing that came into her head as she ambled over to the rocker in the corner of the living room. The instant she sank onto the soft cushion, Madison let out a scream of protest. She must be missing her mom, too.

“It’s all right, baby,” she soothed, and Madison’s cries became sobs.

Lord, please show me how to help them, how to comfort them. She closed her eyes and prayed with all her heart, but no answer seemed to come as the air conditioner kicked on, breezing cool air against her ankle.

Life had been so dark the past week and a half that she’d forgotten there was a beautiful, bright world outside the house. It was a gorgeous summer evening. The trees were in full bloom. Thick streams of sunshine tumbled through the dancing green leaves of the young maple trees in the backyard and glinted over the sparkling surface of the in-ground pool. The tabby cat stalked through the shadows of the perimeter shrubbery, and Danielle’s flower baskets on the deck shivered cheerfully in the warm night breezes.

How could such a beautiful day hold so much sorrow?

Her cell began to chime, startling Madison even more. Red faced, the little girl slumped like a rag doll against Aubrey in defeat, her fingers fisting in the knit of Aubrey’s summery top. She leaned her cheek against the little girl, willing as much comfort into her as she could while at the same time inching the phone out of her front shorts pocket. She checked the screen, just in case it was a call from family.

Ava’s cell number came up—her twin sister. Thank God for small miracles. “Tell me that you’re on your way over. Please.”

“Sorry, I wish I could.” Ava’s voice sounded thin and wavering, and Aubrey’s stomach squeezed in a painful zing of sympathy. She knew what was coming before her twin said it. “Things aren’t good here. Danielle’s not okay. That’s her husband in there, dying, and I can’t leave her. Is that Madison?”

“You can hear her, huh?” No big surprise there. Aubrey kept the rocker moving and tried to comfort the baby, but things were just getting worse. Now Tyler was sobbing quietly at the table. “Have you heard if Dad and Dorrie’s plane has landed yet?”

“No, but when they get here, I’ll race straight over to give you a hand with the munchkins.”

“Thanks, I’ll take whatever help I can get.”

“I’ll hopefully see you soon and, in the meantime, I’ll send a few prayers of help your way.”

“Great, I’ll take ’em.”

The doorbell rang, the sound a pleasant chime echoing in the high cathedral ceilings overhead. Tyler looked up, tears staining his face. Madison ignored it, keeping her face buried in Aubrey’s neck. It was probably a thoughtful church member dropping by another casserole. “I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.”

“Who?”

“How can I tell? I’m not near the door. It’s not family, because they would walk right in.” Somehow she managed to straighten out of the chair without jostling Madison or dropping her cell phone. “Call me if anything changes, okay?”

That was all she could say with Tyler listening, all ears, trying to figure out what was really going on. But he was too little to understand, and overhearing it was not the right way to explain what was happening with his daddy.

“Understood,” Ava said. “The doctor is talking with Danielle right now, so I’ll let you know.”

Aubrey flipped her phone shut. The doorbell pealed again, but she wasn’t moving very fast. Neither was Tyler.

He slid off his seat and landed with a two-footed thud on the linoleum floor. He rubbed the tears away with his fists, smearing them across his pale cheeks. “I can get the door, Aunt Aubrey. I do it for Mom all the time.”

“Go ahead, tiger.” She followed him through the hallway to the front door, where the door’s arched window gave her a good view of the newcomer standing on the porch. She caught the impression of a tall man with jet-black hair framing a stony face before Tyler wrenched the door open.

“Who’re you?” he asked with a sniffle.

Aubrey stood up behind the boy, staring at the stranger who took one look at them and rechecked the house number tacked on the beige siding.

“I’m looking for Jonas Lowell.” The man said in a gravelly baritone. “Do I have the right place?”

He had dark eyes that met her gaze like an electrical shock. He had an intense presence, not dark and not frightening, just solid. Like a man who knew his strength and his capability.

Aubrey couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded, aware of Madison’s baby-fine curls against her chin, the warm weight of the toddler, and the blast of dry summer wind on her face.

Tyler leaned against her knee, tipping his head all the way back to look at up at the man. “You’re real tall. Are you a fireman?”

“No.” The man came forward, and with the sun at his back shadowing him as he approached, he looked immense. His dark gaze intensified on hers. “You’re not Danielle, right?”

“No, I’m her stepsister.” He definitely was not a close friend of Jonas’s, Aubrey decided. But there were friends who still didn’t know. She opened the door wider. Not a lot of crime happened in this part of Montana, in spite of what had happened to Jonas.

“Maybe you didn’t hear, I…” She paused. How did she find the words to say what had happened, with Tyler listening so intently? Danielle hadn’t wanted him to know the whole truth yet. It was so violent and cruel. Too violent and cruel.

“I’m sorry to show up like this,” the big man apologized. “I’ve left a few messages on Jonas’s voice mail, but he hasn’t gotten back to me.”

“No, he’s not going to be able to do that right now. He’s in the hospital. If you want, I can have Danielle give you a call to explain.” That might be best. Tyler was frightened enough as it was. She could feel his little body tense up, board-stiff against her knees.

“In the hospital?” The man looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You said you’re Danielle’s sister?”

“Yes, I’m Aubrey. Let me get a pen so I can get your number.” It was hard to concentrate with Madison sobbing. She was gently rubbing the toddler’s shoulder blades with her free hand. “Tyler, would you run and get a pen and the notepad by the phone for me?”

“Wait—” The man’s rough baritone boomed like thunder. “Obviously this isn’t a good time. I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll leave my card with the gift—”

“Gift?” Okay, call her confused. She had no idea who this man was or what he was talking about. “I’m sorry. Run that by me again.”

“Sure. Jonas bought a gift for his wife. An anniversary present. He was going to come by and pick it up, but since I hadn’t heard from him, I thought I’d bring it by. Where do you want it?”

She felt her jaw dropping. Her heart cinched so tightly there was no possible way it could beat. “An anniversary gift? For Danielle?”

The man nodded warily, watching her closely as if he were afraid she was going to burst into tears or show some emotional reaction. Maybe it was his size, or the awkward way he’d taken a step back, but he seemed like the type who was easily panicked by an emotionally distraught woman.

Not that she was emotionally distraught. Yet. “If you could put it in the garage, maybe? I’ll hit the opener for you. I’m sorry,” she said as Madison began a more intense wave of crying. “This is really a bad time.”

“I see that.” He studied the little girl, his ruggedly handsome face lined with concern.

“It’s an ear infection. The medicine’s starting to work. I just have to rock her until she falls asleep.”

“Alright, then.” Stiffly, he took a step back. “Is Jonas going to be okay?”

No. But could she say that in front of Tyler? All she could do was shrug her shoulder. Tyler had frozen in place, ears peeled, eyes wide, trying to absorb any detail.

As if the stranger had noticed, he nodded in understanding. Sadness crossed his granite face. With a single nod, he turned and strode down the walkway, taking the shadows with him.

Immeasurably sad, Aubrey closed the door and sent Tyler into the garage to hit the button that activated the door opener. Madison was crying anew and there was nothing Aubrey could do but rock her gently back and forth, quietly singing the only song that came into her mind.

She wasn’t even sure if she had the words right, because all she could think about was Jonas. Thoughtful Jonas. He’d gotten an anniversary gift for his wife, but would it become like a message from the grave? A final goodbye? Aubrey choked back her own sorrow. It was too horrible to think about.

Life could knock your feet out from under you with a moment’s notice, she thought. You could have it all, do everything right, pray diligently and live your faith, and tragedy could still happen.

She tightened her arms around the little girl who might have to grow up without her daddy, and she tried not to wonder what awaited her family, the people she loved.

William Corey could see the woman—Aubrey—through the garden window. His opinion of women was shaky these days, due to his experience with the gender. But he could see how this woman was different.

Maybe it was the soft, thick, golden fall of sunlight through the glass that diffused the scene, like a filter on a camera’s lens. That soft brush of opalescent light touched her blond hair and the porcelain curve of her heart-shaped face, making her look like rare goodness.

Or, maybe it was the child in her arms, clinging to her with total trust and need. Whatever the reason, she looked like innocence, pure and sweet.

Stop staring at the woman, William, he told himself and shook his head to clear away all thoughts of her. He popped the crew-cab door of his truck. Sweat dampened the collar of his T-shirt and the black knit clung to his shoulders as he lifted the wrapped frame from his rig. Across the street, a miniature dachshund came racing down from its front porch to bark and snarl, teeth snapping. It halted at the edge of the curb, glaring at him with black beady eyes. Someone shouted for it to shush and the little fellow kept barking, intent on driving William away.

“Yeah, I know how you feel, buddy,” he said to the dog, who only barked harder in outrage. William didn’t like strangers, either. He’d learned how to chase them with off with a few gruff words, too.

As he circled around to the open garage, he caught sight of the woman in the window, framed by the honeyed sheen of the kitchen cabinets. Washed with light, caught in the act of kissing the little toddler’s downy head in comfort, she looked picture perfect.

His fingers itched for his camera to capture the moment, to play with light and angle and reveal this pure moment of tenderness. It had been a long time since he’d felt this need to work—since Kylie’s death. It took all his will to drag his gaze from the kitchen window and force his thoughts away from the woman. His days of holding a camera in his hands were over.

“So, mister.” The boy stood in the open inner door between the garage and the house, a lean, leggy little guy with too-big Bermuda shorts and a shocking-green tank top. His brown hair stuck straight up as if he’d been struck by lightning. Tear tracks stained his sun-browned cheeks and had dampened his eyelashes. “That’s a present, huh?”

“For your mom.” William softened the gruffness in his voice. He liked little kids, and he figured this one had enough hardship to deal with.

He leaned the framed photograph, carefully wrapped, against the inside wall safely away from the garbage cans and the lawn mower. “I’ll just leave it here, alright? You make sure your mom gets it, okay? With all you’ve got going on in your family, it might be easy to forget this is here.”

“I never forget nuthin’.” The little boy said with a trembling lip. He gave a sigh that was part sob, sounding as if he were doing his best to hold back more tears. “My daddy’s sick in the hospital.”

“I’m real sorry about that.”

“Me, too.” The kid sniffed once.

William had questions, but he didn’t know exactly what to ask. An illness? That didn’t seem right; Jonas was the type of guy to hit the gym three times a week without fail. Not that William knew him well.

The little boy looked so lost, holding on to the doorknob with one hand, as if he were hanging on for dear life. What on earth should he say to him?

William stood in the shadows of the garage, as still as the boy, feeling big and awkward and lost. He’d been alone too long, out of the world so long that he wasn’t used to making small talk with adults, much less a little boy.

“I miss my daddy. You haven’t seen him, have ya?”

“No. Sorry.” William could feel the kid’s pain—it seemed to vibrate in the scorching heat. The silence stretched until it echoed in the empty rafters overhead. “How long has he been in the hospital?”

“A l-long time.” The boy scrubbed his left eye with his free hand. “For-ev-ever.”

William had a bad feeling about this, a strange reeling sense of the present lapping backward onto the past. “How old are you, kid?”

“I’m gonna be this much.” He held up his whole hand. “Daddy’ll be well, cuz he’s takin’ me to the f-fair. He prom-mised.”

William studied the fat gleam of two silver tears spilling down the boy’s cheeks and felt the sorrow of his own past. Things didn’t always turn out well, stories didn’t always end happily, and ill loved ones didn’t always recover.

Maybe that wouldn’t be the case for Jonas.

Faintly, from inside the house, came the woman’s—Aubrey’s—voice. “Tyler, close the garage door and come try to finish your supper, okay?”

Tyler hung his head and didn’t answer. His pain was as palpable as the shadows creeping into the garage and the heat in the July air.

“You’d better go,” William said, ambling toward the cement driveway, where birdsong lulled and leaves lazed in the hot breeze and the dog across the street was still yapping with protective diligence.

“Mister?”

The little boy’s voice drew him back. William stilled. Even his heart seemed to stop beating.

“You could p-pray for my daddy so he can come ho-me.” Tyler scrubbed his eyes again, took a step back and closed the inner door.

Leaving William alone in the heat and the shadows with an ache in his chest that would not stop.