Читать книгу Rocky Mountain Reunion - Tina Radcliffe - Страница 12
ОглавлениеAnne pulled into her driveway and sat in her pickup, staring at the house and mustering the energy to climb the steps while desperately grasping for a peace she didn’t feel.
Normally she could count on separating her two worlds by the time she had driven home. The sight of the two-story Victorian home signaled the boundary line as she put the day job behind her. The house calmed her, no matter the crisis in the Paradise ER.
But for the first time in her life calm was out of the question. Seeing Matt Clark and meeting his daughter had knocked her world into chaos and she didn’t like it one bit. Her life had an orderly precision and she blamed the past intruding on her present for today being completely out of control.
She began to pray under her breath while staring at the lovely building in front of her. It had wide steps that led to a cherry-red door topped with a stained-glass transom. The siding was painted dark cream with sea-foam-green accents. Scalloped cedar trimmed the second story, always reminding Anne of a gingerbread house. On the left was a small turret room that rose above the second floor.
This year she’d had the entire house repainted. Next summer’s goal was refurbishing the back deck. With a house that was over one hundred years old, there was always something that needed repair.
This particular home was the only connection she had left to family. And that family was only her great-aunt Lily.
Lately Anne never knew what to expect when she arrived home. Sometimes it was the dynamic and formidable Aunt Lily of Anne’s childhood, other days her aging great-aunt was disoriented, showing more and more indications of the insidious Alzheimer’s disease. Their roles had somehow become reversed. Now Anne found herself the caregiver for the woman who’d taken her in as an orphan some twenty years ago.
She gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the questioning resentment that simmered just below the surface as her mind continued to race with thoughts and mental images of Matt and Claire.
For the first time since all those years ago she began to question the choices that were made for her when she was eighteen.
Ten years ago Lily had told her that education, a career and the independence to make her own choices was the important thing. Deep down inside she feared her aunt had been wrong. Those may have been the right choices for Lily Gray, but had they been the right choices for Anne Matson?
And if not, wasn’t it too late to do anything about it anyhow?
When the front door swung open and her aunt stepped outside and waved, urging her out of the truck, Anne did a double-take. She quickly reached for her leather tote and climbed out of the vehicle.
“Aunt Lily, is everything okay? Where’s your walker?”
“Oh, I don’t need that thing.” Petite and trim, her aunt gripped the rail tightly and held herself up with dignity. She always wore a dress, no matter the day or hour, looking for all the world like the queen of the manor.
“Okay,” Anne answered slowly. She glanced past her aunt to the open doorway. “And you aren’t wearing your alert necklace.”
“That’s for people who might fall. I’m fine.”
“And your aide?”
Lily shared a satisfied grin and ran a hand through her silver curls. “I sent her home. For good.”
There was a challenge in her aunt’s words and Anne wasn’t going to feed into it.
Yet, despite herself, a groan of frustration slipped from her lips. Sometimes her aunt Lily bamboozled her caregivers into thinking she didn’t need help and sent them home. Other times she simply fired them on the spot. Once again Anne would need to call the staffing agency.
She walked up the drive to the porch, her steps weary. “Why did you fire your aide?”
“That woman makes me have uncharitable thoughts. I can tell you that the good Lord would not be happy with that.”
“Aunt Lily. You know her replacement will be here tomorrow.” She moved up the cement steps and placed a kiss on her aunt’s forehead.
Lily offered a satisfied smile. “Oh no, dear. Not tomorrow. They can’t get another one until Monday at the earliest. I already called for you.”
“You called?”
Lily nodded.
“Tomorrow is Friday. I have to work. I can’t stay home.”
“You work too much. You and I could play hooky tomorrow.” Lily wiggled her brows suggestively.
Anne ushered her aunt into the house ahead of her. “I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. You never call in sick. You never take a day off. Why, I imagine you have enough vacation time accumulated to take a trip around the world.”
Lily suddenly swayed and Anne reached out to grab her arm. “Where’s your walker?”
“Oh, phooey.”
“Aunt Lily?”
“It’s in the hall closet.”
Anne pulled open the closet door and slid out the walker, placing it squarely in front of her aunt.
“You know I’m still your elder,” Lily stated.
“I know that, Aunt Lily. I also know that I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Please use your walker.”
Lily released a huff of disgust.
When the house phone rang, Anne reached around her aunt to grab the receiver, grateful for the reprieve.
“Anne. Oh, good. I tried your cell and you didn’t answer.”
“Marta. Sorry. When I get outside Paradise town limits there are pockets where I get absolutely no signal. What’s up?”
“Megan called me.”
“Your daughter? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. She was assigned as diabetic nurse instructor for your patient.”
“What patient?”
“That little girl. Claire.”
“Oh?” Anne moved to the dining room and dropped her bag on the floor. “Is she okay? Is her father still there?
“Oh, yes, Mr. Hunky has been at her bedside since you left. She’s stable but she refuses to learn how to use the monitor or anything. Megan asked me to call you.”
“I don’t understand. Why would Claire ask for me?”
“You made some kind of impression on the kid. Frankly, Meg is a little concerned about the home environment. Apparently the girl lost her mother and really doesn’t know her father. Social Services is asking us to assist on this one. After all, she was found on a park bench. Maybe you could check things out.”
“I’m confused. How does Meg expect me to evaluate the situation?”
“Diabetic instruction. Didn’t I say that?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Sorry. Let me start over.” Marta gave a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “The endocrinologist has agreed to discharge tomorrow afternoon if Claire’s blood glucose levels continue to improve, but only if you agree to assist with diabetic instruction.”
“What? Marta! Me? I’m not even sure I’ll be in tomorrow.” Anne pushed back her bangs. “We’ve got some caregiver issues here with my aunt again.”
“Well...” Marta hesitated. “They could go to your house.”
“That’s crazy. They can’t come here.”
“Company?” Her aunt chirped from behind her. “I’d love to have company. The rose garden is so beautiful this time of year. We could have a picnic. Tell them yes, Anne.”
“Aunt Lily, isn’t it time for your game show?” Anne inched farther into the dining room.
“So it’s a little unconventional,” Marta continued. “But this is Paradise. We don’t do things the same way they do in the big city. You said so yourself, remember?”
“Of course, I did. I’m always saying things that will come back to haunt me.” Anne was silent, her gaze following her aunt, who had settled into a favorite recliner.
“This isn’t about Matthew Clark, is it?” Marta said quietly. “Because if it is, I think you should put your feelings for him aside.”
Feelings? Did she have feelings for the man? She’d barely touched the surface of sorting through her emotions after running into Matt. The entire day had been simply exhausting; that was the only feeling she was sure of.
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here, Marta.”
“What happened between you two is in the past, isn’t it?”
Anne sighed. The past. A wonderful place where she’d like to hide right now.
Instead she turned away from the living room and whispered into the phone. “Absolutely, and I couldn’t agree more. I was very young and, yes, that was a long time ago.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Anne became silent. Should it be a problem? No. She could be a professional and handle the situation. But would her aunt remember Matt after all these years? And if she did, would she say something inappropriate, embarrassing or humiliating for both Anne and Matt?
That scenario seemed highly unlikely with Lily’s current state of mental health. In all probability she wouldn’t remember Matt at all. Still, everything inside Anne screamed that this was a bad idea. At very least it would be awkward. Anne couldn’t help but be nervous about the possibilities for disaster.
“Are you there?” Marta asked.
“Yes.” She paused again. “I’m thinking.”
“Think about this. Claire Griffin is a motherless little girl with an emotional hole in her heart. She’s reaching out to you.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Anne murmured through the lump in her throat.
“Perhaps. But it’s the absolute truth.”
“Marta, I just don’t...” She took a deep breath. “The situation is all kinds of impossible.”
“Forgive me if I’m out of line here, Anne, but if Claire’s father can humble himself to ask you for help, then I think you should consider doing the same.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Anne sighed loudly. “Okay. Fine. Take me off the schedule for tomorrow and give Matt Clark a call.”
“Thank you.”
“I should pray that I don’t regret this,” Anne muttered into the receiver. “But I already do.”
* * *
“Claire, we leave in ten minutes,” Matt called upstairs.
As usual, there wasn’t a single sound in response to his announcement. The two of them lived in the little cottage, yet all he ever heard was the echo of his own voice and Stanley’s occasional barking.
Matt glanced at the clock. After Claire’s discharge, he had agreed to let her come home to shower and change clothes before they headed to Anne’s. That might have been a tactical error since he knew very little about how long it took young girls to shower and dress.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and typed a few more items onto his already-lengthy virtual grocery list. When he pulled open the door of the fridge and rested against the appliance, he could only shake his head. A lonely foil-covered casserole greeted him.
The nurse educator had laid out Claire’s nutritional needs. Apparently the haphazard meal plans he’d been providing up to now weren’t exactly going to win him any awards for father of the year. It’s wasn’t as though he’d had a childhood of healthy eating habits to draw upon.
Nope. His only parent was an alcoholic and they usually didn’t worry much about the food pyramid. So here he was learning how to read nutrition labels and practice smart meal choices not only for his daughter but to set a good example, for himself.
Thankfully some of the women in town had felt sorry for him and brought by lasagna and a fresh tossed salad last night. The meal was the first home-cooked fare since his last invitation to Delia and Manny’s house. And the good news was that there were leftovers.
He hobbled across the room, careful not to bear weight on his injured ankle, and nearly stumbled into the table in the process. Disgusted with himself, he sank into the chair. It hurt, but he couldn’t rely on pain pills if he was going to drive.
Hopefully he’d be able to get things back on track by the end of the day. How things had gotten so off course in a mere twenty-four hours he wasn’t sure. God had led him to Paradise but at some point Matt had stopped listening.
There was no doubt his pride was his undoing. He had to admit that since the moment he’d landed the job in Paradise, he had hoped to run into Anne so he’d be able to show her and her aunt what a success he’d made of his life. In the scenario that ran through his mind, she’d walk away from their meeting bemoaning the fact that she’d left him.
Things hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected. Not by a long shot. Yes, he’d been prideful and disaster had ensued. Now he found himself humbled and reaching out to Anne, of all people, for help.
Why was it that it took him so long to realize that every single time he took a step out without God’s direction he fell flat on his face?
Matt felt Stanley’s concerned and baleful eyes locked on him. The dog nudged him with his nose.
“Good boy,” Matt crooned as he rubbed the animal’s head. The Lab’s tail began to rhythmically thump on the tiled floor. Matt dipped his hand into the biscuit jar on the table and offered one to the pooch.
Thank you, Lord, for Stanley. The dog had stuck by Claire when she’d gotten sick yesterday. Things could have been a lot worse if Stanley hadn’t been around.
So far the best thing he’d done since gaining custody of Claire was to bring Stanley into their lives. The rescue dog had been his idea, to give the little girl something to focus on besides her loss.
The plan had worked and in return the Lab had never left her side. He had taken better care of Claire than her own father. What did that say about his parenting skills? He hadn’t even picked up on the signs that something was wrong with his child.
Tonight was going to be another test. He had to wake her in the night to test her glucose levels with the meter. Could he handle that? What if he slept through the alarm? What if he forgot everything the nurse had taught him?
Claire’s life depended on him.
Diabetes. The diagnosis terrified him and he fought not to let her know how scared he was. She might go into diabetic ketoacidosis if her blood sugar got too high or, worse, if he had to actually use the glucagon kit the hospital had given them for low blood sugar.
He’d been through a lot of things in his life, but he’d only had himself to worry about. Now he was responsible for two people and it was a first for him.
Matt ran a hand through his hair and stared ahead, seeing his daughter’s face as she’d slept in the hospital bed. Her long hair spread on the pillow, she’d looked more like six years old than nearly ten.
Suddenly everything in his life shifted. The seriousness of Claire’s disease left him reeling. Nothing was more important than his daughter.
His daughter.
She’d lost her mother and now had to rely on a father she didn’t know. It hadn’t helped any that he had been out of the country for most of the past ten years. When he’d finally met Claire they were like strangers. The irony was that they were the only family they each had left.
Emotion choked him and he pushed aside the stack of diabetic literature on the table, fighting anger. Rage aimed at himself mostly, because there was no point in harboring a grudge against the woman who had kept his child a secret. He was as guilty as she was for their reckless act of impulsiveness. Claire was the one caught in the middle. She’d never known her father and now her mother was gone.
In the center of the table sat his Bible. He hadn’t touched it since church last Sunday. Matt pulled the soft, leather-covered book closer. When he flipped through the pages the bookmark tucked in the very middle stopped him. Of course he knew what he would find nestled next to Psalm 31: a photo of him and Anne on their wedding day. Some days the picture made him smile. Other days the pain remained unbearable.
Today he closed the book as quickly as he’d opened it.
He glanced at his watch again. “Five minutes, Claire.”
Stanley barked as Claire entered the kitchen a moment later.
Her face was unreadable and expressionless as usual. Damp brown hair fell in waves past her shoulders. She wore a pink hoodie and blue jeans. He could have dealt with anger and defiance. That had been his attitude du jour, growing up with an absentee mother and a drunken father. But this indifference? Matt had no idea how to reach through the wall she’d constructed. He was an adult and he was afraid of a nine-year-old.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her face a mask.
“To see your new friend, Anne.”
A tiny light flickered in her brown eyes. “The nurse?”
“Yes. I called and we’re going to her house for some diabetic instruction.”
Claire’s shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “Thank you,” she breathed.
Matt nodded, realizing that he had done something right. That surprised him, though he wasn’t going to pat himself on the back just yet. One step at a time. That was his new motto.
Claire was pleased and that was a good thing.
“How about if you grab the testing supplies and then get Stanley into the truck for me?”
She nodded.
When they were settled, he punched Anne’s address into the GPS and they drove in silence toward the outskirts of Paradise, past Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery, the hardware store and several novelty shops. Pedestrian traffic was steady in the small town where giant planters of geraniums and trailing ivy decorated the sidewalks.
Summer brought tourists escaping the heat of Denver and Colorado Springs to the moderate-to-cool climate of the mountain town for fishing, hiking and other activities. The town was picturesque and quaint, nestled in the San Luis Valley with the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the north and the San Juan Mountains to the west.
As they started outside of town onto a rural road something began to click in Matt’s mental map. Anne lived on the other side of the lake. They’d met in college and he’d never actually been to her house, though he’d lived just a couple of miles northwest in the even smaller town of Four Forks. She’d never wanted him to meet her great-aunt, as though she’d suspected all along that her guardian would disapprove of their relationship.
That should have been his first red flag. But he’d been young and had thought that love conquered all—including his “wrong side of the tracks” background. Now he knew to listen to those warning flags as a spiritual first line of defense. Today the closer they got to Anne’s house the more his radar alarmed loud and clear.
He drove for a few miles following the directions on the GPS map, all the while watching for a location where he could safely pull off and onto the shoulder. Easing the truck to the right, he put on his emergency flashers.
“What are you doing?” Claire asked.
“Just checking something.” Matt reached into the backseat and pulled out the project plans. He carefully removed the sheath from the cardboard cylinder and unrolled the inner documents.
“Can you hold this?”
Claire held one side of the huge blueprint and he held the other.
His heart hammered. Sure enough. The very plans he’d helped create were about to complicate his life. Big-time.
Plans on paper were supposed to be adjustable. Erase them, start over and redo the mistakes. Right?
Well, it was too late for that. Everything had been set in motion. Official documents had been approved and registered. Construction had begun. Demolition permits had been filed.
The map that lay on the plans spread in front of him indicated that straight ahead they would turn right onto a narrow road. The town, in consultation with his firm, planned to expand and widen this particular rural road, providing a very necessary secondary egress to Paradise Lake and the development homes and condos.
Urban renewal—except this time it was in the country. But the theory was the same. The town of Paradise had the right of eminent domain: a legal instrument to move people and property for development projects that improved the town.
In Paradise that meant that all three of the houses along that road were slated to be razed. Homeowners had been given generous market value offers and they’d receive positive responses from all but one.
The single holdout, by virtue of no response, was address twenty-two-fifty.
Too late, he realized that twenty-two-fifty was the house that belonged to Lily Gray.
What were the odds?
Ten years later and Anne still lived with her aunt. Matt fought the desperate urge to turn the truck around, go back home, pack his bags and head straight to Denver.
If that wasn’t bad enough, and it absolutely was, he realized he was about to come face-to-face with Lily Gray after all these years. The woman he blamed for turning Anne against him. For destroying the happy ending he’d planned for his life.
He began to roll up the blueprint, carefully tucking the document back into the protective tube.
“Is something wrong?” Claire whispered in her soft voice.
Matt released a breath and rubbed his jaw. “Yeah. You could say that.”
“What is it?”
“Hard to explain,” he answered. “But it’s nothing that a little prayer won’t fix.”
Claire frowned slightly and cocked her head, her amber eyes clear. “Do you pray about everything?”
“I try to.” He turned and fully faced his daughter. “Do you pray, Claire?”
“I guess.” She shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“That’s good, because God is the best daddy either of us has. He won’t ever let us down. Today I am definitely going to need His help. And if today is one of those ‘sometimes’ for you, I’d like a few prayers, as well.”
She blinked and studied him, as though digesting his words, and then offered him a small nod.
The gesture comforted him as he signaled and got back on the road.
After driving a quarter mile farther he turned right. He saw the house long before the GPS device announced their arrival. This was the house Anne had talked about all the time when they were together. The home she was raised in as an orphan by her aunt. He’d recognize the cookie-cutter-trimmed Victorian from her descriptions. Architecturally he could appreciate the amazing structure with its period corbels, fish-scale shingles and cedar shakes.
Matt regretted that he hadn’t actually looked at the house before this, instead relying only on the geographic maps to plan the construction.
Would he have changed his mind and found another way to the lake if he’d seen how unique it was? If he’d known it was Anne’s home?
He’d never know for sure. “That’s her house?” Claire breathed.
“Looks like it is.”
“It sort of looks like a castle,” she said, talkative for the first time ever.
“What makes you think that?”
“Look at that pointy room there with the long windows.”
“A turret.”
“Turret,” she repeated. “That’s a room where a princess lives. Like Rapunzel.”
“A princess,” Matt murmured. He shook his head, trying to see the big house from his daughter’s eyes.
“I never thought about it that way, Claire. But I can see you’re absolutely right.”
Yeah, it was a castle with a princess inside. A dark-haired princess with chocolate-brown eyes who apparently had no clue that her castle was under siege.
