Читать книгу Their Child? - Karen Rose Smith, Christine Rimmer - Страница 17

Maybe twenty seconds after Lena blew the whistle on that night eleven years ago, the doctor who’d taken charge of Lori when she reached the hospital appeared through the wide swinging doors to the patient area.

Lena, in a rustle of heavy skirts, jumped to her feet. “Dr. Zastrow, can we see her? Just for a minute or two, please?”

The handsome young doctor gave Lena a smittenlooking smile. “She’s all settled. Resting comfortably—and as for paying her one more visit, how can I refuse such a beautiful bride?”

Dirk got up then, fast, and went to draw Lena close to his side, making it clear to the doctor that this particular bride was very much taken. “Thanks,” he said flatly. “Which room is she in?”

Lena turned to Tucker, who’d yet to rise from his chair. “Tucker. Come on. We can go in now…”

He got up—not too fast; he felt slightly light-headed. And he took the few steps that brought him nose to nose with the good-looking surgeon. “You’re sure. She’s okay now?”

Zastrow smiled his movie-star smile. “She’s doing very well. I think, by now, it’s safe to say that she’s out of the woods.”

Lena quivered with impatience. “Tucker. Come on. Let’s go…”

But Tucker wasn’t going. He didn’t want to see her right then. He couldn’t see her—couldn’t trust himself not to…

No. Better not.

He turned to Lena. “I think I should head on over to your folks’ place, tell them the good news—and tell Brody, too, if he’s still awake.”

Brody, he thought, and then, impossibly, my son…

But wait. There was still that other guy from the night after the one she’d spent with him…

Or was there? Who the hell knew? Only Lori—sweet, beautiful Lori, who’d been lying to his face all along.

He still couldn’t quite get his mind around the thousand and one ways she’d pulled the damn wool over his eyes. Lie after lie after lie. He had a lot to say to her and none of it was pretty—which meant he didn’t dare to see her now. Not while she was flat on her back with twenty stitches in her head.

“But Tucker,” Lena wheedled, “you don’t need to go all the way over to the house. We can give my folks a call. And Lori’s expecting you, looking forward to—”

“No.” He fell back a step and put up a hand. “I should go. Tell her for me that I’ll see her…real soon. Tell her to get well quick.” Before Lena could argue any more, he spun on his heel and headed for the wide hallway that led out of there.

A minute or two later, he shoved through the hospital doors into the windy darkness of the night. The rain had stopped. Sometime during the long hours they’d waited to learn if Lori would make it, the wind had pushed the clouds along. Beyond the cover of the front entrance porte cochere, the sky was clear and thickly scattered with stars. He reached in his pocket for his keys…

And he remembered.

He had no damn car. It was somewhere in the club parking lot—maybe totaled and buried under the liftedoff roof of the clubhouse or an uprooted oak. Hell if he knew. And hell if he cared right at that moment.

He cared about getting where he was going, period—to the Billingsworth house, where he could see Brody. But Memorial was ten miles out of town and Tate’s Junction was too small to support a cab company. Tucker stood there in the darkness, beneath the jut of the porte cochere, staring out at the stars, swearing under his breath and considering his options.

Dirk might loan him the keys to whatever vehicle he and Lena had taken to get to the hospital. But to get those keys he’d have to go back inside and find Lena’s new husband, who was probably with her in Lori’s room…

Uh-uh. Not happening.

Tucker got out his cell and actually raised a dial tone. But he flipped it shut before auto-dialing the ranch. He didn’t want to drag anyone out of bed at that hour, not Tate and not Jesse Coutera, who ran the Double T garage. He could call a poker buddy, or his semiretired partner, Leland Hogan…

No. Same problem. It was a bad hour for asking favors. And he’d have to be civil to whoever he called; you didn’t call a buddy at midnight asking for a ride and not make some kind of effort to explain why. Tucker wasn’t feeling civil; he was in no mood to explain anything. He put his cell away.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, he started walking, thinking, as he strode across the parking lot, that walking was pretty stupid. It would take him hours to get to the Billingsworth place on foot.

But he didn’t much care right then how long it took. He only knew he was going there, that when he arrived, he would see Brody and…

Hell. And what? He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything, really. But then again, he’d been around the damn world and never really known where he was going. At least, tonight, his destination was clear.

The wind was in his face, warm and still smelling of rain. He peeled off his jacket, slung it over his shoulder and kept on walking.

Lena patted Lori’s shoulder. “Dr. Zastrow says you’re gonna be just fine. I am so relieved. I can’t tell you. You gave us one whopper of a scare.”

Lori stared at the empty doorway that Tucker should have come through. She lifted a careful hand and touched the bandage wrapped around the top of her throbbing head. Her head wasn’t the only thing that hurt. Her whole body felt stiff and sore and she also had a kind of disembodied feeling, as if none of this was real.

And why hadn’t Tucker come to see her again?

“I’ll be back as soon as they’ll let me,” he’d whispered to her before he left her side the last time. He’d kissed her—a gentle brush of his lips against her own. “It won’t be long,” he promised.

So where was he now? She touched her mouth, where the feel of that feather-light kiss still lingered. Oh, she just didn’t get it. “Tucker said he was going to Mama and Daddy’s?”

Lena pasted on a bright smile. “That’s right. He said he’d see you real soon and for you to get well.” She patted Lori’s shoulder some more.

Lori shut her eyes. When she opened them again, Lena was still there, looking down at her, smiling fondly.

What a sister, Lori thought. Lena’s hair straggled free of her formerly elegant upswept do. She had a smudge of dirt on her cheek and her wedding dress was torn at the sleeve and stained with soot and mud—and still, she was forcing brave smiles.

I’m so very fortunate, Lori thought, to have a sister like this one: a sister who called all the time, whether I called her back or not. A sister who never gave up on keeping the family connection, a sister who didn’t even hesitate to spend her wedding night at the hospital in her ruined bride’s gown, waiting for a chance to pat me on the shoulder and tell me I’m going to be fine.

Lori said, softly, “Did I tell you? You’re the most beautiful bride I ever did see.”

Lena’s eyes got misty. She sniffed. “Yes, I did look pretty amazing and gorgeous, didn’t I?”

“You still do. Absolutely beautiful…”

Lena sniffed some more and lightly punched the shoulder she’d been patting. “Oh, stop.”

“I’m grateful to have a sister like you.”

“Now, I mean it. You will have me bawling my eyes out and we don’t need that.”

“I haven’t always appreciated you and I know that.”

“Okay, okay. You’re definitely on to something, here. I won’t deny it.”

“But things are going to change, I promise. From now on, I’m going to work as hard as you always have, to keep that special connection between us.”

“Good.” Lena sniffed once more. And then she grinned. “Move home.”

“I don’t know about that—yet.”

“Wow. You should get hit on the head more often—” Lena caught herself. “No. Scratch that.” She pressed her hands together and cast her gaze heavenward. “I never meant that, Lord.” She let her hands drop and looked ruefully at Lori. “I can’t believe I said that. It was horrible, all of it, and I would never want anything like it to happen again.”

Lori reminded her, “Still. You know what they say—bad luck at your wedding, good luck for the rest of your married life.”

Lena sent a soft look over her shoulder at Dirk, who’d made himself comfortable in the corner chair. “I guess we’re headed for the luckiest marriage in history.”

“No doubt about it.” Lori glanced toward the door again and sighed.

“What?” Lena prompted tenderly.

“I just wish Tucker had come on in here instead of heading for Mama and Daddy’s.”

“Oh. Well…” Lena was biting her lower lip.

Even with her body aching all over and her head pounding, Lori was getting the picture that something wasn’t right. “Lena?”

“Um?”

“I think you’d better tell me what’s going on.”

An old farmer in an ancient pickup stopped for Tucker about a mile along the highway.

“You hear about that twister?” the farmer asked him as they rumbled down the road. “Blew away the dang country club.” The farmer shook his grizzled head under his grimy Longhorn cap. “In the middle of a big weddin’ party, too. D’ja hear ‘bout that?”

Tucker made a noncommittal noise low in his throat and focused straight ahead.

“I heard everyone got out alive, though,” said the farmer. “Praise the good Lord.”

“Amen.” Tucker never took his eyes off the dark highway in front of them.

The farmer said, “Son. You kinda look like you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m guessing you’re one of the ones who crawled out from under the ruins of that country club.”

Tucker grunted and glanced down at his wrinkled, blood-spattered slacks and shirt. Lori’s blood, he thought—and then put the thought away, shutting his mind against her. He gave the farmer a nod without glancing his way. “Yeah. I was there.”

After a second or two, the old man asked, “You okay?”

Tucker looked over at him then. “No. But I’m working on it.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Sorry. Guess not.”

“Good enough, then. Sit back and let me take you where you’re goin’.”

Ten minutes later, the farmer let him off in front of the handsome brick house where Lori had grown up. Tucker thanked the old guy and then stood there at the curb, staring vacantly after him as the rattletrap pickup rumbled away.

Once the taillights disappeared around the corner, Tucker blinked, shook his head, and turned to trudge up the front walk.

Dirk rose from the chair in the corner. “Lena, sweetheart.” He wore the kind of look men wear when they know they’re in the way. “I’ll be in the waiting room.” Lena went over and gave him a quick kiss.

Lori thanked him. “Dirk, you’re about the best brother-in-law I ever had.”

“Not to mention the only one.” Chuckling, he left them.

Lena returned to Lori’s bedside. “You know, maybe we ought to talk about this later.” Careful of Lori’s bandages, she reached out a hand and touched Lori’s cheek. “You look real tired and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to—”

Gently but firmly, Lori pushed her sister’s hand away. “Something happened with Tucker. I know it. What?”

“Oh, well, I—”

“Lena. Just tell me. Please.”

“Well, I’m not really sure. I mean, I could be wrong…”

“But…?”

Lena blew out a hard breath. “Okay. I think it kind of bothered him when I, um, let it drop about how you and me switched places on him on prom night.”

Lori’s heart stopped beating—and then lurched to racing life again. “You told him about prom night.”

“Oh, Lori…”

Her mouth chose that moment to go desert-dry. She swallowed, then barely managed to croak, “Did you?”

“I, um…”

“Just answer me.”

“Yes.” Lena scrunched up her face as if she’d sucked a lemon. “It just kind of slipped out. I figured you’d already told him and I wanted him to know how bad I felt about us tricking him like that. By the time I realized you hadn’t told him yet, I’d already said a big mouthful too much.”

Lori swallowed, coughed. “Water…” Lena grabbed the foam cup from the retracting tray and handed it over. Lori sipped. Her throat soothed—if nothing else—she made herself ask, “So. He took it badly?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He seemed okay—and come on, it’s not like it’s some big, huge deal or anything. It was stupid and it was wrong. But it was also a long time ago and he and I had already decided it was over between us. And, well, I mean, it’s the kind of thing we should be able to laugh about now. Don’t you think?”

Lori let that question pass. “And after you told him?”

“He just got real quiet. Real strange, you know? And then, when the doctor said we could see you, he wouldn’t come in with us.” She paused to swipe a drooping auburn curl out of her eyes. “He just…didn’t seem right.”

“I see…” Boy, did she. She saw it all. And it wasn’t good.

Her sister let out a frustrated cry. “I don’t get it. Yeah, it was a mean trick to play on him, but it’s not like it ruined his life or anything.”

Lori stared at her sister. She thought of all the chances she’d had to tell him. She’d blown them all. And now it was too late. He already knew—and from what Lena had just told her, he hadn’t taken the news well.

Lena let out a tiny sob. A tear slipped down her cheek, leaving a gleaming trail. “Oh, I’m so sorry. It looks like I’ve gone and messed everything up. I swear, I don’t know why I have such a problem keeping my big mouth shut…”

Lori couldn’t let her go on blaming herself. “You haven’t messed anything up. I have.”

Lena grabbed a tissue from the box on the tray. “Huh?” She honked into the tissue. “Come on. I was the one who had the idea for us to switch on prom night. And I’m the one who blew it and told Tucker before you had a chance to tell him yourself. So it is my—”

Lori reached out and gently brushed her sister’s arm. “Just believe me. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t see how you can say that.”

“I know you don’t. But you will.”

Lena frowned. “Great. What you’re tellin’ me is that you’re not going to explain to me what the heck is going on, right?”

“I can’t. Not right now. I have to talk to Tucker first. But as soon as I do, I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

“I just don’t understand.”

“You will. Right now, though, the main thing you need to know is that you didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong here is all my doing.”

“But I don’t…” Lena stopped in midsentence. Lori watched her sister’s face and saw the exact moment when Lena caught on. “Or maybe I do,” Lena said softly. “Prom night. You and Tucker…”

Lori gulped and nodded, thinking, So much for my chance to talk it over with Tucker first.

“You two didn’t really go out for breakfast, did you?”

No more lies, Lori silently vowed. Never again will a lie pass my lips. She didn’t let her gaze waver. “No. We didn’t.”

“And that guy, the next night. The one we all thought was Brody’s father…there was no guy, was there?” Lori shook her head. Lena said, softly, “Wow.”

Lori said, “I really messed up.”

And Lena nodded. “Well, yeah. You really did.”

Tucker paused with his hand raised to ring the bell. He stared at that heavy oak front door and remembered how he’d pounded on it that afternoon eleven years ago.

Lena had opened it and sent him away. He’d left not knowing that it wasn’t even Lena he’d come to see.

Low in-ground lanterns shone from the flower beds. The porch light, a brass and beveled-glass creation suspended from a chain, glowed above his head. But as far as he could see, there were no lights on inside. If he rang the bell, he’d be getting them out of their beds.

So be it. He punched the doorbell and heard the chimes echo in the shadows beyond the door.

Then he waited. It didn’t take long. Heck, in a plaid robe, his feet stuck in a pair of run-down moccasins, pulled open the door. At the sight of Tucker, his big, jowly face went slack. “Lori? Is she—?”

Tucker rushed to reassure the older man. “She’s fine. Resting comfortably, they said. Lena’s with her. I came to…let you know. That she’s doing well…” Damn, that sounded lame.

But why wouldn’t it? It was lame. Heck had heard the news already from Dr. Zastrow, hours ago, before he and Enid and Brody left the hospital.

Enid, wearing a long pink robe, her hair smashed flat on one side, appeared at the head of the stairs. “Heck? Who is it?”

“It’s Tucker.” The big man turned in the doorway and spoke to his wife. “He’s come to tell us that Lori’s doing just fine.”

“Tucker!” Enid hurried down the stairs. “Come in, come in. Heck, honey, where are your manners?”

They led him to the kitchen and Enid brewed a quick pot of coffee. She poured him a mugful and fussed over him, offering eggs and toast if he wanted them. He declined, with thanks.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, exactly. Maybe at least a little suspicion—on Heck’s part, anyway. There was no real reason for Tucker to be showing up at their house well after midnight, rousing them from bed to tell them what they already knew.

But Heck and Enid didn’t seem to care in the least that he really didn’t need to be there, that the news he had for them wasn’t news at all. And when he asked to see Brody, Enid popped right up and pushed in her chair. “Oh, he’ll be so pleased. He was asking about you, just before he went to bed.”

Tucker heard himself muttering, “Uh. He was?”

“Well, of course. You made quite an impression on him.”

“I did?”

Heck chuckled. “Bound to impress a boy, when you save his life—and his mother’s, too.”

Enid added, looking misty-eyed, “Impresses a boy’s grandparents, as well.”

Heck said, “Damn, man. Believe it. You’re almost as popular with Brody right now as that ugly mutt of yours.”

Enid’s misty smile widened. “You come on, now. This way…”

Tucker set down his coffee mug and fell in step behind her. She led him out of the kitchen, into the central hall and up the stairs, where she stopped at the first door on the right. She tapped lightly. They waited. No sound came from inside.

Enid put her finger to her lips, grasped the door handle and slowly pushed the door inward.

Light from the hallway poured into the room, a wedge of brightness across the single bed opposite where they stood. Brody was sound asleep, sprawled on his back, the covers kicked away.

He wore blue short-sleeved Bart Simpson pajamas. That persistent cowlick Tucker had noticed the afternoon before stuck up against the pillow—the cowlick so much like the one Tucker himself had always fought to tame. The light accentuated the shadow that defined the cleft in his chin—the cleft like the one Tucker saw every morning when he looked in the mirror to shave.

And not only the cowlick and the cleft chin. There was also the shape of his face and the curve of his mouth when he smiled.

Mine, Tucker thought.

There was no doubt about it. He should have seen it before. It really was damned amazing, how the truth had been right there in front of him for two weeks now, and he’d never seen it. He’d seen only what he expected to see.

Like Lena, that long-ago night…

He’d expected to see Lena that night. Lena, a vision in pink, whirling in his arms. Lena, nervous and so sweet, so achingly eager, naked beneath him, her soft lips forming his name.

Even that night, his senses had rebelled. He’d noticed—how different she seemed; her eyes softer, and her voice, too. Gentler, quieter; in a strange way, more feminine. That night, she wasn’t the Lena he knew.

Because she wasn’t Lena at all.

Silently, Enid pulled the door shut. She whispered, “Sorry. I hate to wake him…”

“It’s all right,” said Tucker. He’d seen what he needed to see.