Читать книгу A Soldier's Heart - Marta Perry - Страница 11

Mary Kate realized she was shaking inside as she started the car, and she took a deep breath, trying to still the rush of panic. Michael was all right. Luke would keep him safe until she got there. It was okay.

No, it wasn’t. If Kenny were here, he’d have found something to make her laugh in this situation, and his steady, even calm would convince her this wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.

But Kenny wasn’t here, and Michael had done the unthinkable, leaving his grandparents’ yard without a word to anyone. What on earth had made him do that?

Lord, thank You for keeping him safe. Maybe I’m overreacting—I don’t know. I just know that I’m scared and I need guidance. Please, show me the right way to respond to this situation, with both Michael and Luke.

The short drive around the block to Luke’s house wasn’t long enough to settle her entirely, but then, she probably wouldn’t calm down until she had her son in her arms again. She parked in the driveway and ran to the front door, tapping and then hurrying inside.

“Michael Donnelly.” She grabbed him, pulling him against her with an urgent need to know he was in one piece. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, Mommy.” He squirmed free. “I’m sorry. I guess you’re mad at me, huh?” He gave her the angelic look that said he couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong.

She hardened her heart. “Sorry doesn’t quite cover it, young man. And don’t bother looking at me that way, because you’re still going to be punished.”

“Your mom’s one tough lady, Michael. She doesn’t let me get away with anything, either.” Luke actually sounded as if he found this amusing—probably because it put her in the position of having to apologize for her children. Again.

She looked at him, praying she wasn’t blushing. That was the trouble with fair skin and freckles—every emotion showed. “I’m very sorry Michael bothered you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

And it won’t, ever again, she vowed.

A rare smile crossed Luke’s face, chasing away the lines of pain and anger. “He’s not a bother. But I knew you’d be worried.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

And yet she was sure he’d been fit to be tied when he’d called her. Apparently Michael had been exercising his charm during the time it had taken her to drive over.

“I’m sorry if I was a pest,” Michael told him. “I didn’t mean to be. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Why? She wanted to ask the question out loud, but not here, not in front of Luke. She’d have to wait until they were alone for that.

“You weren’t a pest,” Luke said. He reached out to ruffle the red curls. “But you should never come here without your mom’s permission. You know that, don’t you?”

“Can I come if she gives permission?” he said promptly.

“Michael.” Her mother could always put a wealth of meaning into just saying one of her kids’ names. Mary Kate could only hope she’d mastered the trick.

Luke shot her a glance, and then he nodded gravely. “If your mother gives you permission, you can come and see me again. But never go anywhere without permission from the person who’s in charge. A soldier who did that would be going AWOL.”

Michael nodded, looking impressed. “I promise.”

“Good.” Luke turned the chair, moving toward the small cherry writing desk in the corner. He opened the top drawer and took something out. “I have something for you.”

“You don’t have to—” she began, but Luke silenced her with the slight shake of his head.

“This is between Michael and me,” he said. He held out a small box. “Here.”

Michael fumbled with it for a moment and then managed to pop the lid up. “Wow,” he said reverently.

She moved so that she could see the contents of the box, and shock zigzagged through her. She took the box from Michael’s hands.

“He can’t accept this. You can’t give these away.” She thrust the box toward Luke, but he clutched the arms of the chair, refusing to take it.

“They’re mine. I can do what I want with them.” There was a dark undertone to the words, and she wasn’t sure what emotion it expressed. Bitterness? Grief?

She looked down. Against a background of black velvet lay three things. Two she recognized immediately—the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star. It took a moment to identify the third as the Iraq Campaign Medal, with its relief in bronze of the country.

She was at a loss to know how to handle this, and it didn’t help that Michael was tugging at her arm. She frowned at him. “Stop, Michael.”

“But he said—”

“I know what he said, but these are too valuable to give away.”

“I can do what I want with them,” Luke repeated, his face set.

A wave of anger took her by surprise. How dare he use her son to precipitate a situation like this?

“It’s not appropriate for Michael to keep them,” she said firmly. “However, if you’d like to lend them for him to take to school for their display about the military, that would be all right.”

Luke’s dark eyes lifted to her face, and she thought she saw the faintest regret there. “Fine,” he said gruffly. “Do that, then.”

She nodded and closed the box, handing it to Michael. “Go out to the car and wait for me. And don’t open that.”

He took it reverently in both hands and scurried for the door, apparently realizing now was not the time for further argument. Her kids seemed to know exactly how far to push her.

When he was gone, she turned back to Luke. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Sorry.” He evaded her gaze. “I didn’t think about the value. I just thought he might enjoy them.”

She shook her head impatiently. “Of course he couldn’t keep them. But I meant you. You shouldn’t give away something that important. And don’t bother telling me they’re yours to do what you like with, because I don’t buy that.”

“They are.”

“Of course they’re yours, awarded because you served your country honorably and were injured doing it.” She thought of the Bronze Star. “And probably did something heroic in the process, if the Bronze Star means what I think it does.”

His face tightened again. “I shouldn’t have them.”

“Why not?” She wanted to shake the stubbornness out of him. “You earned them.”

His glare pinned her to the spot with its ferocity. “Because I don’t want medals when I’m here, safe, and my guys are still over there in the line of fire. That’s why.”

“I hear you’re working with that young fellow who’s just back from Iraq.”

Frank Morgan, one of Mary Kate’s favorite patients, slowed the pedals of his exercise bike, looking at her with inquiry in his bright blue eyes. With the fresh pink color of his cheeks and those clear eyes, no one would believe Frank was the eighty-three she knew he was.

“Keep pedaling,” she said, tapping the handlebars. She glanced around the nearly empty room at the clinic. No one else was working at the exercise bikes and treadmills this early in the morning. “How did you hear that?”

He smiled, smoothing back his ruffle of white hair with one hand while he increased the rotation speed. “Ha, makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Truth is, I’m around this place so much, some of those young things act like I’m part of the furniture. Say anything in front of me, they would.”

“Well, if you wouldn’t insist on trying to take your own storm windows off, you wouldn’t have to come in so often. How does your back feel?” She checked her watch. “Can you go another minute?”

“Sure thing. So, how’s that boy doing?”

That was the question that kept her awake at night. How was Luke doing? The incident with his medals had made her feel out of her depth. Maybe he needed to be working with a psychologist, not her. She’d seriously considered admitting to her boss that she felt unprepared to deal with Luke’s problems. But she could hardly say that to Frank.

“He’s coming along.”

He nodded. “Can’t talk about a patient. I know. I guess I wouldn’t want you talking about me to someone else. Still, I have an interest. It’s been a long time, but I remember what it was like when I came home from the war.”

“Really? Which war?” She signaled him to slow down gradually.

“Which war, she says.” He snorted. “The big war, young lady. World War II.”

“I didn’t realize.” She helped him off the bike. “You must have lied about your age to get in, because you’re way too young for that. Ready to work on the resistance bands, or do you want to rest a minute?”

“Lied about my age? No such thing, but I thought I’d never turn eighteen. I was mad to get out there with my buddies.” He picked up the resistance bands.

One thing she could say about Frank—he never balked at anything she asked him to do, taking each new task as a fresh challenge. Luke could benefit from a little of his attitude.

“Was it difficult when you came back?” she asked casually. Maybe she couldn’t talk about Luke to him, but there was no reason she couldn’t try to gain some insight.

He grunted. “I’ll say it was hard. Mind, I wasn’t injured, like your young fellow, but I’d been in a POW camp for nine months—seemed more like nine years, so I wasn’t in great shape. Funny how that is. You come back, and it’s just what you dreamed about all that time, but it’s strange, as well.”

“Strange how?” She adjusted his stance, making sure he was using his back correctly.

He frowned, as if trying to find the right words. “I guess it seemed to me nothing should have changed, but when I came back, life had moved on without me. The worst part was just getting out around people again.” He chuckled. “Couldn’t remember names to save me, even folks like my brother-in-law and my old boss at the gas station.”

Luke seemed to remember names, but he had that same reluctance to be around people. No, reluctance wasn’t a strong enough word. Aversion, maybe. “How did you get over it?”

“My wife, bless her.” His eyes filled with tears suddenly, but he was smiling. “She went everywhere with me, holding on to my arm like walking with me was the proudest thing she’d ever done. She figured out about the names without me telling her and she’d always say the name if we ran into somebody. And cover for me if I jumped at a backfire or something like that. The good Lord knows I couldn’t have done it without her.”

She patted his shoulder. “She loved you. She loved doing it.”

He nodded. “That’s what your young man needs, too. Folks that love him and will help him along, even if he doesn’t act like he wants their help.”

His words echoed in her heart as she took the bands from his hands. “Good job. That’s it for today. Don’t go moving any more storm windows, all right?”

He smiled, his cheeks as pink and round as a baby’s. “If a man can’t do the things he’s always done, he feels like less of a man.”

“I guess so.” Once again, his words resounded. That was what Luke was feeling, knowing he couldn’t do the things he’d always done, maybe even afraid to figure out what he could do now. “But I don’t want to see you in here with a broken leg next.”

“I’ll behave. I promise.”

“See that you do.” Impulsively she gave him a hug. “I wish I could get the two of you together. You’d be good for him.”

He nodded, obviously knowing who they’d been talking about the whole time. “You figure out a way to do it, and I’ll be there. It’s the least I can do, you know?”

She nodded, her throat tight. It was the least she could do, as well, and she wouldn’t give up on Luke, no matter what.

If Luke hadn’t felt so guilty for putting Mary Kate on the spot with her kid with those medals, he wouldn’t allow her to wheel him down a new ramp into his backyard. Come to think of it, maybe this was her idea of payback. He blinked as she pushed him into the May sunshine.

“Okay, I’ve been out. I’m ready to go back in now.”

Mary Kate set the chair’s brake. “You try it, and I’ll put a stick in your wheel. If you stay in that house any longer, you’re going to turn into a mole.”

He frowned at the ramp that led from the back porch to ground level. “Are you sure this ramp is covered?”

“It’s taken care of,” she said shortly, crossing the grass to look at the flower bed his mother had planted along the porch.

He glanced across the yard, feeling as if he were really seeing it for the first time in a long time. The old apple tree still stood in the corner. He’d had a swing hung from a low branch once, and then later a tree house that had probably damaged a limb or two.