Everyday Blessings (3 page)

“I'll see to this.” Aubrey broke the silence. “You get Madison inside.”

“Ten four.” Ava looked on the brink of tears as she dragged her gaze away from the gift, which was clearly some kind of a wall hanging. “Did you get anything to eat?”

Aubrey shook her head. Not that she was hungry.

“I'll heat something up for both of us,” Ava decided as she headed inside. The snap of her flip-flops echoed in the empty garage, leaving Aubrey feeling sorely alone.

Okay, call her curious, but she snatched the business card from its secure place beneath the string. The name William Corey was printed in small letters in the lower right-hand corner, in block script. Photographer.

Jonas's friend was
the
William Corey? That's where I've seen him before, Aubrey thought, a little shocked. She'd shelved so many of his books
at the bookstore over the years, she should have known him on sight. His picture was plastered on the back jacket of his bestselling collections of inspirational photography. How did Jonas know the famed photographer? And why had someone of William's stature mowed the lawn?

No, that couldn't be right. Could it? Aubrey tucked the card back into place and carefully lifted the wrapped package. It certainly felt like a framed photograph, she thought as she shut the garage door and headed down the hall. It was a good-size picture. Not that Jonas could afford an original, but William Corey
was
Danielle's favorite artist. She had a book of his in the house.

Aubrey took care with the package and leaned it against the wall in Danielle's bedroom. There was a small wooden bookcase in the corner with a collection of devotionals and inspirational books.

There, on the bottom shelf, Aubrey found what she was looking for. A hardback book with William Corey's name on the spine. She tugged it from its snug place and turned the volume over. A man's image with jet-black hair and dark eyes stared up at her.

Yep, it was the same high cheekbones and ruggedly handsome look. William Corey.

It was a nice photograph, she thought, but it didn't look like the man she'd met tonight. His features were the same, yes. His look was the
same. But the man in the picture seemed at ease, with a relaxed half smile on his face, standing in a mountain meadow with rugged peaks in the background. He was vital and alive and full of heart. Not at all the man who'd stood in the garage, looking lost in the shadows.

“Aunt Aubrey?” Tyler came up to stand beside her. “I'm lonesome. Will you come watch TV with me?”

“Sure thing, pumpkin.” Aubrey put the book back on the shelf, but she couldn't put away her thoughts of William Corey as easily.

She took her nephew's small, trusting hand and let him lead her down the hall.

 

In the stillness of his mountain retreat, William was comforted by the echoing scuff of his slippered footsteps. He was back in his space, where he was safe from life and the way it made memories tug at the sorrow in his heart.

Hours had passed since he'd driven away from Jonas's house. He'd slapped a sandwich together and called it dinner, then hopped on the Internet to scan through the online version of the local paper. He found a small article saying only that Trooper Jonas Lowell had been shot at a routine traffic stop and was in critical care. Nothing more. He'd tried the hospital, but they weren't releasing any information.

Maybe tomorrow, he'd try harder to see what
he could find out and if there was anything he could do to help. After what Jonas had done for him, it was the least he could do.

Troubled, William watched the sun turn bold crimson in the hazy dusk and told himself he didn't long for his camera. He had no desire to capture the light of the sun and the haze of descending twilight. Really. Or, that's what he told himself as the long-dead desire grew razor sharp.

It was that woman Aubrey's fault, he decided as he bent to turn on the lamp at the bedside table. There had been something about her, probably just the trick of the light, that made the dead place inside him come to life. For a moment, he wished for the things that would never be for him again—like innocence and trust and hope.

It had been a long time since he'd prayed. His knees felt stiff as he knelt beside the bed, resting his forearms on the soft, cool percale of the turned-back sheets. The shadowed darkness in the room seemed to deepen and grow; the low-watt bulb in the table lamp wasn't strong enough to keep it at bay.

Maybe it was the shadows within him that seemed so dark. He thought of Jonas's little boy and the promise made. William might have given up believing in nearly everything, but he was not the kind of man who went back on his word, especially to a child. So, he bowed his head and, while no words
rose up prayerfully from his forgotten soul, he did find the words that mattered.

“Help Jonas to recover, for his family's sake. Please.”

It felt as if he were talking to no one. He was certain he was alone in the room, that God wasn't leaning down to listen to his prayers. That only made the darkness bleaker and the iron-hard place inside his soul harder.

William climbed from his knees, sank onto the mattress and buried his face in his hands. Unable to make sense of the broken pieces his life had become, he lay in the dark, alone.

I
n 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.”