Healing Dr. Fortune (13 page)

“Why don't you sit down on that bench,” the kid said.

“I'll see if I can get you some aspirin or something for your hangover. Or better yet, I'll call someone to come get you and take you to a clinic.”

“No,” the old man said. “I'll be fine. It's just that I have something to do. Something very important.”

“What's that?” the kid asked.

“I… I'm not sure.”

The kid looked up and down the street. Where were the cops when you really needed one?

He was just about to call 911, when his cell phone chimed. His buddy D.J. was texting him, so he flipped to the screen to read the message.

A couple of their friends were going to a movie and D.J. asked if he wanted to join them.

He glanced at the old man. Why did he think it was his job to help? There were a lot of other people around—adults who were better able to deal with the poor guy's issues than he was. So he decided to take off and find his friends.

“You take care,” he said. “Okay, dude?”

The old man looked up, just as confused as ever.

 

Back at the Double Crown Ranch, Lily put on a kettle of water to boil. Then she removed a china cup from the cupboard and took a box of chamomile tea from the pantry.

The phone rang, and she answered.

“Lily,” Jeremy said. “If all goes according to plan, I'll be staying at Kirsten's tonight, so I won't be coming home. Are you going to be okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said.

Jeremy had always been a sweet boy, and she knew that he'd been staying with her to keep her company until William returned. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Silence stretched across the line until Jeremy said, “I worry about you when I'm not there. I have a feeling you're just waiting for the telephone to ring with news of my dad.”

“The waiting isn't in vain.”

Jeremy didn't respond right away. Then he asked, “Have you heard from the police lately? Have they uncovered anything else?”

Not anything of substance. “No, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time. We'll hear something soon.”

As the kettle went off, she turned down the fire. “Why don't you bring Kirsten out here for dinner tomorrow night?”

“I'd like that, Lily.”

“Good. Dinner will be ready at six, but you can come whenever you like.”

“Thanks.” He paused again, then added, “Are you sure you'll be okay without me home tonight?”

“Absolutely. I'm not alone.” He probably thought that she meant her household staff and the ranch hands were nearby, but she couldn't help thinking that it was more than that.

“Take care,” he said. “And sleep tight.”

“I will. Kiss Kirsten and that baby for me. I'll see you tomorrow.”

When the call ended, she filled her cup with hot water, then dropped a chamomile tea bag into it.

As she waited for it to steep, she sensed a presence—just like she had several times before.

She couldn't explain it—that warm, inner peace. The sense of calm, of love.

Nor could she shake the words that seemed to speak to her mind.

“Don't give up hope,” they whispered. “He'll come home to you.”

She nodded, as if she could somehow communicate right back.

I won't give up. I'll wait for him until the day I die.

 

When Jeremy had called Kirsten his fiancée at the courthouse, her heart had sung with hope.

But when she quizzed him about his comment, he'd said, “I thought it might help sway the judge to grant you custody.”

At that point, her song had hit a flat note.

Not that she didn't appreciate what Jeremy had done to ensure that she would get custody of Anthony. But his lie had only opened a new can of worms, and she couldn't help worrying that there might be some legal ramifications if the court ever learned that they weren't really engaged.

He'd told her that he loved her, of course. But he'd never mentioned anything about a commitment.

“We can talk more about it later,” he'd said.

But as luck would have it, Anthony had been fussy on the short ride back to her house, and Jeremy had been tightlipped.

Then he'd disappeared for a while, saying he was going to pick up groceries so he could fix dinner for her this evening.

Maybe they would finally have a chance to talk about the future while they ate. She sure hoped so. Not knowing what he was thinking or feeling made her more than a little uneasy.

And to top it off, Jeremy had gone into the kitchen more than an hour ago and had refused to let her in while he cooked.

“It's a surprise,” he'd said, each time she'd knocked at the door.

She wasn't sure what he was making, but it certainly smelled delicious.

So, after bathing Anthony and putting on his onesie, Kirsten gave him a bottle and put him to bed. Then she waited on the sofa for Jeremy to announce that every thing was ready.

Max, who'd taken a shower and splashed on a bit of his favorite aftershave, entered the living room, dressed to the hilt in a new pair of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt.

He'd been invited to Kelly's house again, which meant Jeremy and Kirsten would have a quiet night alone.

“Don't wait up for me,” Max said. “And go ahead and lock the door whenever you decide to turn in. I have a key, but I have a feeling I'll be invited to stay over for breakfast, too.”

He was grinning from ear to ear, and Kirsten couldn't help being happy for him.

“Drive carefully,” she said.

“I always do.”

After Max left, she reached for the novel she'd left on the lamp table and opened to the bookmarked page.

But she didn't read more than a paragraph before Jeremy stepped through the doorway, his eyes lit up like a child's at Christmas.

“Dinner's ready,” he said.

“Good.” She returned the book to the table, then got to her feet.

“Before we eat,” he said, “I have something I want to ask you.”

“What's that?”

He crossed the room and took her by the hand. Then he dropped to one knee.

Her imagination, as well as her heart, began to race, but she feared that she might be jumping to the wrong conclusion.

“What are you doing?”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small, Tiffany-blue-colored box and popped open the lid, revealing the biggest, shiniest diamond she'd ever seen.

“Will you marry me, Kirsten?”

Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, then began to rumble back into her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't form.

“Is this for real?” she finally asked.

He cocked his head slightly to the side, and his smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“An engagement,” she said. “Is it real? Or is it just a part of your plan to sway the judge?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “If you say no, then I'll claim it was only part of that particular plan. But the truth is, I love you, Kirsten. And I want to marry you—judge or no judge.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but wasn't having any luck. She knew she should respond to his proposal, but the emotion, the happiness, the dreams of a wonderful future all tumbled around in her throat.

“Aren't you going to say anything?” he asked.

“Yes!” she finally said through tears. “I'll marry you. And I'll follow you to California or Timbuktu. It doesn't matter to me, as long as we're together.”

Then she pulled him to his feet, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love in her heart.

The future might be a little uncertain at the moment, Kirsten decided, but it had never looked brighter.