Daniel's Gift (9 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

Tags: #Guardian angels, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Unmarried mothers, #Adult, #General

BOOK: Daniel's Gift
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"Dad."

He was hearing things now. Definitely going over the edge.

"Dad, wake up."

Luke lifted his head off the pillow. Sitting crossed-legged on the end of his bed was a kid with blond hair and blue eyes, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, the same kid who had rung his doorbell that afternoon.

"What the hell -- "

"Hi." The kid waved at him, and gave him a halfhearted smile that was almost as wary as it was welcoming.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my room? How did you get in here?" Luke demanded, struggling to a sitting position.

"I'm Danny," the boy said, peering at him in an intense manner that made Luke want to squirm. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be, and you have a lot of hair on your chest."

"Bigger?" Luke asked in confusion, crossing his arms somewhat self-consciously. "What are you talking about? What do you want?"

"I came by to see you before, but she wouldn't let me in," Danny said, pointing a finger at the sleeping Denise.

"My wife said you were selling candy."

"She's a liar. She slammed the door on my toe."

"Now hold on," Luke said, then stopped himself. Why was he defending Denise? She probably had lied about the candy. "If you weren't selling candy, why were you at my door?"

" 'Cause I wanted to meet you."

"Why?"

Danny shrugged and looked off to one side as if there were someone else in the room, but Luke didn't see anyone.

"Jacob says we have to go now."

"Who's Jacob?"

"Come and see me tomorrow."

"See you? See you where?" Luke asked. Even as he spoke, the boy vanished. He didn't get up and walk out the door, he just disappeared.

Luke looked over at Denise. She was fast asleep. The clock on the bedside table read four a.m. Only five minutes had passed since he had last looked at it. Five minutes in which to have the strangest hallucination ...

He fell back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. It was another five minutes before he remembered -- the boy had called him Dad. How could that be possible?

It wasn't possible. It didn't make sense. He wanted to go to sleep, and fast, because he had a feeling that if he didn't fall asleep immediately, the next person he'd see sitting on the end of his bed would be -- Jenny.

Jenny jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. Her first thought was that Danny had moved, had lifted his hand and touched her. Then she looked up, saw Alan, and realized she had fallen asleep on the narrow couch in the hospital waiting room.

"Oh, it's you," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I guess I fell asleep." She swung her legs off the couch and sat up, feeling dizzy at the sudden motion.

"You've been in here all night, honey." Alan sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"What time is it?"

"Six o'clock in the morning."

"Six o'clock? My God. I just came out for a minute when they wanted to run some tests." Jenny looked at him in alarm. "He didn't wake up, did he? If he woke up, and I wasn't there, I'd -- "

Alan shook his head, cutting off her panic. "He didn't wake up. I just checked with the nurses. No change."

"Oh. I guess that's good," Jenny said. "It's only been a few hours, and Danny's probably tired from the surgery. You know he loves to sleep in. I wouldn't expect him to wake up till at least ten. It's Saturday. Maybe he won't wake up till eleven. There's no ball game to go to or anything." Her voice caught in her throat, and her lip trembled. "Oh God, Alan, what if he never wakes up?"

Alan drew her into his arms, and she pressed her cheek against his chest. He was a big man, solid as a rock, dependable, protective. Jenny took a deep breath, wanting to absorb his strength. Alan wasn't the most affectionate man in the world or the most tender, but she knew he was brave, and right now the thing she needed most was courage.

"He'll wake up," Alan said. "He's a strong kid. And tough. Too stubborn to die. You'll see."

"I hope so. I really hope so." She looked into Alan's eyes, but his gaze wasn't as strong as his words. He was afraid, too. "You've been here all night, haven't you?"

"I didn't want to leave you alone. Merrilee said she'd be back this morning. She'll probably bring Matt or your dad with her."

"My father?" Jenny shook her head. "I don't think I can handle seeing my father right now, knowing the way he feels about Danny."

"He loves Danny. He just doesn't know how to say it."

"No, I don't believe that. The way he acts isn't love. He criticizes Danny and me all the time. Nothing we do is right."

Jenny pulled herself out of Alan's arms and stood up, suddenly reminded that Danny and Alan didn't get along all that well either.

"Maybe he's just trying to help," Alan suggested.

"Everyone thinks they know what's best for Danny. But I know what's best. I'm his mother," she said, her voice rising along with her agitation.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm going to find out how Danny's doing." Jenny stood up, then paused. She turned to see Alan watching her with a troubled expression, and she felt guilty. She was taking out her anger on him, and he had done nothing to deserve it. "I'm sorry, Alan."

"It's okay."

"Look, you don't have to stay here all day. You must be exhausted. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Alan -- "

"No, Jenny, I'm staying." Alan stood up. "Let me come with you. I'd like to see Danny."

Jenny hesitated for a long moment. She didn't want Alan in Danny's room. She knew Alan cared about Danny, he just didn't get along that well with children. But right now he was complicating things, and she didn't want to deal with anyone but Danny.

"I want to be alone with him," she said. "You understand, don't you?"

"No. Yeah. I guess." Alan held out his hands in a pleading gesture. "Don't shut me out, Jenny. I want to help you through this. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Tell me what you want."

"I want Danny, happy, healthy -- but you can't give that to me," she said simply.

"I wish I could."

"I know you do."

Alan put a hand on her arm as she turned to leave. "Jenny, there's something I have to ask you. I'm trying to piece together what happened yesterday. I need to know why Danny was on the highway last night."

Jenny tensed. She didn't want to answer him, but what was the point of lying? He would find out sooner or later. "Danny went to see his father."

"His father?"

"That's right."

Alan swallowed hard, biting back words that would surely have held criticism. She could see it in his eyes. "Did he see him?" Alan asked finally.

"I have no idea."

"Maybe one of us should talk to this guy."

"Why? He wasn't driving the car that hit Danny."

"You don't know that."

"Actually I do. I saw him standing in his living room about twenty minutes before I found Danny on the street."

Alan looked at her in amazement. "You went to his house? What did he say? What did you say?"

"I didn't speak to him."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't."

"Jennifer. What the hell is going on?"

His demand cut through her last remaining thread of control. "I'll tell you what's going on. My son is hurt. He might even be dying, and you're standing here shouting at me about Luke Sheridan. I don't give a damn about Luke. I don't want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. And right now I don't want to talk to you either."

"Jenny, wait. I'm sorry," Alan shouted, but Jenny didn't stop. She felt angry, out of control, and deep down inside absolutely terrified.

Alan slammed his fist against the wall. He wanted to hurt someone, make someone pay for the pain they were all experiencing, and damned if it wouldn't give him pleasure to knock Luke Sheridan's head against the wall.

Chapter Seven

 

Luke ran faster until his breath came in gasps, and his hair began to drip from the morning dew and his own sweat. The pavement beneath his feet was rocky, uneven, as he pushed himself up one hill, then down another.

The relentless pace prohibited him from thinking. If he could run fast enough, maybe he could escape his thoughts, his memories of Jenny, his hallucinations that made no sense.

The street in front of him turned and twisted. A dog came up on his heels, barking in delight.

Luke tried to shoo it away. The dog wouldn't leave him alone. Finally, completely out of breath, Luke slowed down and ended his run in front of the wrought-iron gates at the beginning of his driveway. The dog barked again.

Luke looked down at him, hoping for a collar. There was none. The dog looked like a mutt, a tiny little thing with crooked ears and a yapping voice. For some reason, it reminded him of Toto in the Wizard of Oz.

"Go away," Luke said.

The dog barked and ran between his legs. Luke stumbled over his small body.

"Come on, beat it."

The dog bit through his sock with sharp, pointed teeth. Luke yanked his foot away in irritation. The dog ran into the bushes next to the fence, drawing Luke's attention to a piece of ripped paper stuck on a branch.

Luke reached for it, instinctively sensing its importance.

"
Daniel S
." The name was written at the top, along with a grade marked in red pen, B-, and the comment that Danny could do better if he tried harder. The paper was the beginning of an essay on space travel in the twenty-first century. Luke read the unscientific, twelve-year-old philosophy with a deepening grin, disappointed when the paper ended in mid sentence.

He looked up, suddenly aware of the quiet. The dog had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. After a moment, Luke folded the paper carefully in his hand and walked into the house. He showered, dressed, and went back downstairs for breakfast.

When he got to the breakfast room, he picked up his glass of orange juice and drained it. He now felt awake, alert, in control of his body and his emotions. Yesterday had been an aberration in his highly organized life. Today, he would get back on track.

As soon as he finished breakfast, he would go to the office, bury himself in the details of his business and forget about the night before.

"Good morning, darling." Denise walked into the room, dressed in a Chanel linen suit with matching turquoise pumps. Her lips against his cheek were cool. Any thought he had of turning his mouth against hers disappeared as she moved quickly away. Luke realized in that instant that she was afraid of something, maybe his mood -- maybe something else.

He watched her slide into her chair and pour herself a cup of coffee. Denise didn't start the day without a shot of caffeine, usually more than one. After a few sips, her tension seemed to ease. He offered her a tentative smile.

"Better?"

"Better," she agreed, relaxing as he offered her a silent olive branch, which she gratefully accepted. "The party was a big success, don't you think?"

"It was all right."

"Your parents aren't up yet?"

"Are you kidding? My father's already on the golf course and my mother is having her hair done. She said something about not being able to find a decent salon in Carmel."

Denise set down her coffee cup, her mood turning serious. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

Luke tensed, not sure he wanted to hear what she was about to say.

"I'd like to make some changes around the house, but I don't want to upset your parents. After all, this was their home for thirty years."

Luke shrugged, feeling relieved that she hadn't brought up their discussion of the day before. "Do whatever you want, Denise. This is our home now. They have their own house to decorate."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

There was a long silence that went on and on, moving from companionable to uncomfortable. It seemed as if he and Denise had little to say to each other anymore. Or maybe there were just too many subjects that were taboo between them.

"What are you going to do today?" Luke asked finally.

Denise took another sip of coffee, then set the cup down, leaving a perfect pink lipstick ring around the edge. "I thought I'd go shopping."

Shopping. How wonderful, Luke thought wryly. Another dent in his bank account. Not that there wasn't plenty to go around, but he would have thought his wife would have shopped herself to death by now.

"What are your plans?" Denise asked.

"Work."

Denise sighed at his curt tone. "You're not still angry ...

"No. What's the point?" He looked her straight in the eye and saw her flinch, but she drew her shoulders up and faced him proudly.

"You're right. There's no point in rehashing the past. Let's look to the future. We do have a bright future together, Luke. I can make you happy. You know I can."

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