Читать книгу Everyday Blessings - Jillian Hart - Страница 9

In the antiseptic scent of the hospital’s early-morning waiting room, Aubrey searched her father’s face for signs of the latest news on Jonas’s condition. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, John McKaslin looked suntanned and robust for a man in his sixties, but there was no smile in his violet-blue eyes.

“Dani’s in with him. There’s no good news.” Heavy sadness weighed down his voice. “You’ve lost weight, pumpkin. You look tired.”

“It’s nothing.” And that was the truth. Doing what she could for her family wasn’t a hardship, it was a privilege. What was a little sleep lost compared to that? “I stayed to help Ava with the kids, and Madison had a rough night.”

“I’m so glad to be here to help out. I’ll take over tonight, dear.” Dorrie wrapped Aubrey into a caring hug and then held her at arm’s length to appraise her. “Your dad’s right. You look exhausted. If only we could have come back sooner. John, the girl is exhausted.”

Dad shook his head. “We should have come sooner. Spence said Jonas was doing better and to keep on with our cruise.”

“He had been.” For a little while, it seemed as if Jonas would be fine, and they had all breathed a sigh of relief. Dad and Dorrie had been starting a cruise and Danielle had convinced them to stay on it. That had been before the coma, of course. Aubrey thought the long trek standby from St. Barts and the night at the hospital had to be taking a toll on her parents. “I’ll stay here, if you two want to head home.”

“All right, then. I’ll get some shut-eye.” Dad leaned to kiss Aubrey’s cheek. “You call if there are any changes, you hear?”

“Yes, sir.” It was good to have her parents back in town. She’d missed them both so much since they’d moved to Scottsdale. “You’re okay to drive? You must have been up most of the night.”

“I got a few z’s in, don’t you worry about me.” Dad gave his wife a kiss. “Are you coming? By the look of you, I’d say you’ve made up your mind to stay.”

“Dani needs me, no matter how tired I am.”

“You need me to grab you breakfast before I go?”

“No, dear, but how about I walk as far as the cafeteria with you?” Dorrie turned to Aubrey. “I’ll be right back. You’ll keep an eye on Dani?”

“You know I will.”

Aubrey watched her parents amble down the hall, hand in hand, shoulders touching. They had found a good marriage, and it had deepened over the years. Somehow, watching them made her heart ache with loneliness, and what kind of sense did that make?

None. Absolutely none. She ought to be feeling less lonely because her parents were back in town. She wasn’t sure what that said about a woman in her late twenties, that she was used to spending so much time with her parents. But she was a homebody. Her family had always been her life and she knew they always would be. It wasn’t as if eligible bachelors were exactly knocking down her door. In fact, not one had ever knocked on the door for her.

For Ava. Yes. Absolutely. Her twin had that adorable charisma that made everybody love her. But Aubrey, well, she knew she was a wallflower, the kind of girl men passed by.

It was simply a fact that she’d learned to deal with. Besides, she had so many wonderful blessings in her life, how could she feel right about asking for more?

There was hot water for tea next to the coffeepot in the pleasant little waiting room, so she started in that direction, but something stopped her. A movement out of the corner of her eye. She recognized the gentleman far down the hall at the nurses station. A tall, broad-shouldered, austere-looking man dressed all in black. Why did she know it was William Corey without him having to turn so she could see his face?

Maybe it was the way his wide, capable shoulders were set, as if he were confident he could handle anything. Perhaps it was the shadows that clung to him in the harsh fluorescent light. Whatever the reason, her attention turned to him automatically, as if she had no say at all.

One of the floor nurses pointed their way, and Aubrey watched William turn toward her. Recognition sparked in his dark eyes, and something else—something she couldn’t name, but she saw his guard go up. His entire being, body and spirit, stiffened. He marched toward her like a soldier facing a firing squad.

He didn’t seem comfortable. He didn’t look happy to see her again.

“I was going to give you a call later this morning,” she explained. “You didn’t need to come down.”

“I wanted to.” He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “They wouldn’t give me any information because I wasn’t family, but I wanted to talk to Jonas’s wife, when she has a minute.”

No welcoming greetings. No small talk. He wasn’t the most extroverted man. Maybe that’s why she automatically liked him. She was introverted, too. “I’m not sure when that will be.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” William shielded his heart with all his strength. He wasn’t going to let himself remember being in the same place in another hospital. In another time. He knew coming here wouldn’t be easy, but the antiseptic smell was more powerful a reminder than he’d anticipated. So were the echoing halls magnifying every movement and the sad shuffle of relatives waiting for news.

Enough, he told himself. He had to wipe his mind clean and not let a single thought in. That seemed to take all of his effort, and Aubrey was looking at him as if she wasn’t too fond of him.

He wasn’t coming across well and he knew it, but this was the best he could do. He couldn’t be the only one in this hospital with bad memories. Surely he could handle this better. He had to try harder, that was all.

“I don’t know if anyone thanked you,” Aubrey was saying.

It was hard for him to focus. The past welled up no matter his best efforts to blot it out. He felt as if he were traveling down an ever-narrowing tunnel and the light at the end of it was blinding him.

“That was really nice of you to mow the lawn.”

“Nice?” The sincerity in her violet-blue gaze startled him. He wasn’t being nice. He was doing what needed to be done. It was so little to do when he owed Jonas so much. “No. It took all of twenty minutes, I think. No big deal.”

“It was, believe me, and bless you for it. We’re simply swamped trying to keep everything together for Danielle’s sake and the kids.”

That only brought back the memory of her holding the small child, awash in light. He might not have been able to capture that extraordinary image with his camera, but apparently he had with his mind. “Danielle. Is there a chance I can see her?”

“She’s in with Jonas and he’s failing and she doesn’t want to—”

He held up one hand, the emptiness inside his soul splintering like fragile glass. “I’ll wait until she has time.”

“It might be a long wait.”

“I don’t mind.” He nodded once as if the matter was settled and strode to the first chair he came to in the waiting area. He folded his big frame into it and pulled a paperback book out of his back jeans pocket.

Aubrey watched him flip the book open to a marked page, tucked the book marker at the end of the book and bow his head to read.

Okay, so call her curious and a little protective of Danielle. Her feet seemed to take over, and on autopilot she wound up beside his chair. “Would you like something hot to drink while I’m up?”

“No.”

He didn’t look up from his book. Not the most talkative of fellows. Aubrey wasn’t at all sure she should like this guy, but there was something about him sitting there all alone, his entire body tense, and he didn’t look comfortable being here. Somehow the overhead light seemed to glance off him, leaving him lost in the shadows.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the hot water carafe on the heating plate. Why did this man unsteady her? He had a powerful presence and his gaze was sharp enough to cut stone. That ought to be enough, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Just as it wasn’t only curiosity that had her watching him out of the corner of her eye as she dunked the tea bag up and down in her little foam cup of steaming water.

The volunteer at the desk looked up from the newspaper she was reading, glanced in William Corey’s direction and gave Aubrey a knowing kind of smile as if to say, he is a handsome one.

Aubrey had to admit that she’d already noticed he was extremely handsome. It was a purely objective observation, of course.

He lifted his focus from his book and studied her through the curve of his long dark lashes. Microseconds stretched out into an uncomfortable tension as his eyes locked with hers. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or angered, then the left corner of his mouth quirked up into a hint of a grin.

Who knew the man could actually smile?

“What?”

That was sort of an invitation to talk, right? Aubrey dropped two sugar cubes into her cup and headed toward him. “I was wondering how you know Danielle and Jonas.”

“I only know Jonas.”

“Then why do you want to see Danielle?”

“It’s personal.”

That’s all he had to say. Aubrey stared at the man. He’d gone back to his reading. “I see you’re a very forthcoming type. And talkative.”

“I can be.”

“Talkative? I don’t believe that.” Did she detect another hint of a grin?

He shrugged one big shoulder. “I’m not here to talk to you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a definite, one-sided grin, not an amused one, but enough so that it softened the granite features of his face and hinted at a man with a good-humored nature behind the hard stone.

“I owe Jonas a favor, that’s why I’m here.” His eyes darkened with a terrible sadness.

Sadness she could feel.

He went on. “I want to know what I can do for Danielle. How I can help. Make a difference in their lives.” He paused. “The way Jonas had once done for me.”

“Jonas helped a lot of people in the line of duty.”

“I imagine.” He gave a curt nod, as if it were all he could manage. He swallowed hard, and his sorrow was a palpable thing drawing her closer. “I’m not handling this well. It’s the hospital. I’ve spent a lot of time in them.”

“In this one?”

“Yes.”

She slipped into the chair in the row next to him, leaving an empty seat between them. “Your story didn’t end well, did it? I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know why he was telling her this. What had happened to his resolve to keep this buried? “Four years, five months and twenty three days ago, no, twenty four days ago, my wife died in this hospital. One moment we were riding bikes on the shoulder of a country road, and the next, she was bleeding to death in my arms….”

He could feel the woman’s silence like a touch, her gaze on his face, her sympathy as soft as dawn’s light. The title on the front of the book he held began to blur. “Jonas answered the 911 call. He was going off duty, but he came to help. The paramedics were right behind him, but I’ll never forget what he did. He drove to the hospital and he sat with me while my wife was in surgery. I had no other family. No one else.”

That was all he could say. But there was more that Jonas had done, things that had made all the difference. A difference William could not face, much less put into ordinary words. He hung his head, willing the pain down and forcing his vision to clear.

Her hand settled on his arm, her touch light and comforting. He couldn’t explain why a sense of peace cut through the well of pain gathering deep within him. Or why she made the agony of an endless sorrow ebb away like low tide on a shore. He only knew how dangerous it was to open up to anyone, to let anyone in, and he jerked his arm away.

“Uh, there’s Danielle now,” Aubrey said in a startled voice, hopping to her feet, acting as if he hadn’t embarrassed her.

He was too overwhelmed to do anything more than close his book and try to find the will to stand, to greet Jonas’s wife with a voice that wouldn’t betray his own inner turmoil. He closed off everything else from his mind—even the bit of peace Aubrey had brought to him.

It was just about the saddest thing she’d heard. Aubrey ached for the man as she watched him amble down the hallway toward the elevators. Now that she knew what had happened to him and the loss he’d suffered, she could see that he was walking around broken down to the quick of his soul.

“I can’t believe this.” Danielle sank into the nearest chair in the waiting room and stared at the business card she held in her hand. “I’m too tired to think.”

She looked beyond exhausted, Aubrey thought as she eased into the chair beside her stepsister. Coincidentally, she discovered she had a perfect view of the elevator bank where William was waiting, head bowed, staring at the floor.

He’d jerked away from her. She’d meant to comfort him, and he pulled away as if she were hurting him more. She was embarrassed, yes, but it was nothing compared to the hurt she felt on his behalf.

“That man was William Corey. The photographer.” Danielle stared at the card. “I didn’t even know Jonas knew him. Wait, maybe I did. My brain is a total fog.”

“Did he tell you about the gift?”

“Oh, you mean he wanted to contribute to Jonas’s medical fund, except there isn’t one.” Danielle rubbed her hands over her face, so weary. “I told him about the funds we’re accepting for charity in his name. Oh, and I mentioned the auction fund-raiser thing you and Ava are coordinating with our church.”

Should she tell her about the anniversary gift? Aubrey wasn’t sure at this point that Danielle looked strong enough to take one more blow.

“Mr. Corey was interested in writing a check to Jonas’s medical fund, but I told him I wasn’t able to think about that much right now.” Danielle shrugged. She seemed frayed at the edges, at wit’s end, as if her heart had stopped beating. “I’ve got just about all I can cope with.”

Aubrey put her arm around her stepsister. “Did you get some sleep?”

“I’ll be fine. I—” Danielle shoved the business card in Aubrey’s direction. “I told him you or Ava would be in touch about that donation. It was nice of him, don’t you think?”

“I do. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” Aubrey took the card, wrapping her hand around her sister’s. She willed all the sympathy she had into a prayer.

It was hard to know what exactly to pray for. For Jonas to miraculously recover? For Danielle’s marriage and family to be whole and happy, as before? To turn back time so that Jonas would not have been shot? Some things not even God could change. The past was one of those things.

Please, Father, make this come out all right.

But she didn’t see how. All she could see was her sister’s tenuous act of holding things together, and the remembrance of William Corey’s sadness. She could still picture the steel-straight line of his spine and the inherent sorrow that made him seem so distant and impersonal. But his story clung to her like skin.

How sad is this? she thought, wanting to push it all away like an empty plate. If only she could get this ordeal out of all of their lives. She hated dealing with this constant sorrow and sadness. She liked to look at the positive side of life. She hated the heartbreak and woe that had permeated their family and stolen Jonas from his wife and children.

“Are you all right?” Danielle asked in concern; Danielle who always thought of others even when her world was unraveling at the seams.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just overwhelmed.” Aubrey shrugged. “You know me. I hate that things like this ever happen. I would want there to be no hurt and loss in the world. Just goodness and sunshine for everyone.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me. If only that were true.” Tears brimmed in her dark blue eyes. “What I’d give if we could make that true, but life is a mixed bag of blessings. Some days it’s more than I want to face, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have to.”

A faint bell dinged at the end of the hallway, echoing against the long empty corridor. The light above one of the elevators came on and William Corey moved toward it.

Sympathy tugged at her heart. William looked deeply alone. She watched him wait while a few passengers in the elevator disembarked—Dorrie was among them. She carried a drink carrier and a covered plate, tapping quickly in their direction. But it was the man, lost in shadows, who kept Aubrey’s attention as he entered the elevator and disappeared from her sight.

The impression he’d made on her heart remained.

William listened to the echo of his step in the hospital’s chapel and wondered why he was here. It was as if he had followed his feet. He couldn’t remember making the conscious decision. The chapel had been noted on the main-floor directory and he’d followed the arrows without thought. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what he could possibly do. There was no prayer on earth that could comfort him.

Candles flickered in the front of the nondenominational sanctuary, candles that had been lit in hope and prayer. The stillness of the simple place felt as if it still held the memory of decades of deepest prayers whispered in sorrow. Maybe his were still here, earthbound and unheard, from that dark, desperate night long ago.

I shouldn’t have come here.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. The online article about Jonas’s shooting was sparse, and he’d come thinking there was some difference he could make. Sure, Aubrey had told him enough of Jonas’s current medical situation to prepare him, but hearing it was another reality entirely. Seeing the look of it on Jonas’s wife’s face was too bleak a reminder.

William knew that look too well, the appearance of exhaustion and desperation. Of what it took to put life on hold to stay at a loved one’s side. There wasn’t enough sleep, not enough hope, not enough love, no matter how hard you tried, to will that loved one well.

The day’s blazing sunshine spilled through two arched stained-glass windows, and the colorful spill of light might be a sign to some who sought comfort in this solemn place. But that comfort and hope had been elusive for him. William’s hand felt empty, as empty as his soul, and coming here had been a mistake. He’d been unable to make any sense of life, or reason behind it. It wasn’t what he wanted to believe. It was simply all he was left with.

The scent of flowers placed on the altar became cloying, a scent-related memory of when he’d knelt here, praying for mercy to save his wife.

It hadn’t happened.

He turned his back to the altar and the cross on the wall, feeling devoid of faith, like a pitcher empty of water, but the pad of approaching footsteps made him hesitate. It was as if the light slanting in thick, nebulous rays through the stained glass brightened when she stepped through the threshold and into the sanctuary.

Aubrey. She recognized him, and their gazes locked. With the way she was haloed by the jeweled light, a hopeful man might think this was a sign that heaven was listening after all.