Home Field Advantage (25 page)

"He didn't make
it," Emma announced. "But I wiped it up with a towel and I helped him
change clothes."

"I don't know what I'd
do without you," Marian said. "Let's go now."

At the car she had started to
buckle the children in when she heard the clatter of horse's hooves. She looked
up to see Isaiah gallop around the paddock fence toward her. He pulled the
sweating mare up and slid off. His dark eyes displayed a trace of worry as he
glanced at the car, as though counting noses, then at Marian.

"Did I hear a
siren?"

"Anna fell off the swing
and hit her head. She's unconscious. They've already taken her to the
hospital."

He touched her shoulder with
one meaty hand, then let it fall back to his side. "Leave the kids with
me," he said gruffly. "You go ahead."

Marian felt like falling on
his chest and sobbing. "Thank you" sounded woefully inadequate, but
she said it anyway.

"Shall I call
John?" he asked.

"I already left a
message for him."

He only nodded. "You let
me know how she is and if there's anything I can do."

Marian bit her lip.
"Yes. Of course." She hugged the two crying children good-bye and
drove to the hospital, operating on some mechanical level that allowed her to
shift gears and obey traffic signs and park nearly in the exact middle of a
slot in the hospital's parking lot.

Inside she was told that Anna
had been taken for an X ray, that she hadn't regained consciousness yet, that
Marian should wait for the doctor. In the waiting room she sat, because there
was nothing else to do. But now, with no need to maintain a facade, she had to
face her fears.

A very long twenty minutes
passed before a nurse appeared, smiling. "Mrs. Wells? Your little girl
would sure like to see her mom."

Marian shot to her feet.
"She's awake?"

"Yep."

Marian heard Anna crying
before they reached her cubicle. There, the doctor, a graying, slight man, was
checking her reflexes. Anna's face was tear-stained and her nose badly needed
wiping, but to Marian she was gorgeous.

"Oh, sweetie!" She
reached out and gently hugged her young daughter, closing her eyes as gratitude
swept dizzyingly over her. This was all that counted. The worries that so often
preoccupied her seemed petty at this moment.

Marian gave the doctor a
smile that wavered. "How is she?"

"She's going to have a
heck of a headache," he said. "She has a concussion, nothing serious,
but I want to keep her here in the hospital tonight for observation. You're
welcome to stay with her if you'd like."

"Of course I will,"
Marian said. Poor Isaiah. She hoped he wouldn't mind accompanying a
two-year-old boy to the bathroom.

"What did she collide
with?" the doctor asked.

When Marian told him, he
shook his head. "That's kids for you. My ten-year-old broke an arm just a
couple of months ago, jumping out of a tree house. You know, we can't watch 'em
all the time."

"I shouldn't have let
her swing without my being out there," Marian said.

"I bet she learned her
lesson. Didn't you, Anna?"

Anna cried a little harder.
Marian found a tissue on the bedside stand and wiped her tears and then her
nose. "It's okay, sweetie," Marian crooned. "You're just fine.
The doctor is done. Come on, pumpkin, quit crying. Does your head hurt?"

Eventually they were moved
upstairs to a regular room. In between comforting Anna with words and gently
rubbing her back, Marian thought about John and about her astonishing
discovery.

Why had he gone to such
trouble for her? He had already done so much, offering her and her children a
job and a home. Why this extra step, which had cost him quite a lot?

There was only one answer. He
loved her, just as he'd said. Regardless of what she chose for the future, he'd
sought to lift some of the burden from her, in the only way he knew she'd
accept. Just as he hadn't told her that he was responsible for Mark's
repentance because he hadn't wanted gratitude to hold her.

What he had given her was the
gift of independence, Marian thought wonderingly. Could there be a greater
expression of love than that?

Two hours later, Anna had
been allowed to eat some Jell-O and was napping. Marian tiptoed out to call
Isaiah.

"We're getting by,"
he said. "Don't wony about Jesse or Emma. I'm glad about your little girl.
She's a brave one. Sits that pony real well."

Despite everything, Marian
smiled. She then settled beside Anna's bed, holding her small hand, more for
her own reassurance than her daughter's. Time drifted. She couldn't seem to
concentrate on a magazine and mostly just sat there, letting her mind wander.

She heard footsteps
approaching, and then the nurse stuck her head around the door. "You have
company," she announced brightly, and then disappeared. John took her
place in the doorway.

Marian rose to her feet.
"John?" she said disbelievingly.

"Not even tape
delayed," he said, coming into the room. He took her hand in a warm clasp
and looked down at the sleeping girl. "How's Anna?"

"Fine." Marian
sniffed, and John handed her a tissue from the bedside stand. She blew her
nose, then smiled mistily. "Just fine. I don't know why on earth I'm
crying now."

"Because you're glad to
see me?" His tone was light, his eyes grave.

His presence had finally sunk
in. "Why are you here?" she asked.

"Didn't you expect
me?"

"No... Yes," she
admitted. "I hoped. I wanted you..."

"Mommy?" Anna's
eyes opened and she repeated querulously, "Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

John smiled down at Marian's
daughter. With one big hand he reached out to smooth her hair back from her
forehead. "How are you, little one?"

"My head hurts,"
she whimpered. "Where's Emma?"

"Home, worrying about
you," John said gently.

"I jumped," Anna
said.

"I know." His grin
carved lines in his cheeks. "A little too high, from the sound of
it."

Her mouth puckered.
"Emma did."

"Yeah, but she's bigger
than you."

"Can I jump when I get
big?"

"When you get big,"
Marian whispered. The small hand curled around her finger and Anna's eyes sank
shut.

They stood in silence beside
the bed for a moment before John said, "I guess I'd better go home and
talk to Emma and Jesse. They're pretty scared."

"I called Isaiah."

"I know. But they didn't
quite believe him."

"Oh," she said,
foolishly.

John's hands on her shoulders
turned her to face him. "I'll be back," he said. He searched her face
tenderly. "Do you know I love you?"

Marian bit her lower lip and
nodded.

"Good. We'll talk
tomorrow." He dropped a whisper-soft kiss on her lips, then said huskily,
"See ya."

Marian touched her lips with
her fingertips, not wanting to lose the warmth, and looked after him. In the
doorway he winked, gave her a thumbs-up, then vanished.

He was here. Joy blossomed in
her chest and stole through her as she slowly sat down again. When she needed
him, John had come, just as he'd promised he would. Was she strong enough to
have faith that he always would?

*****

Marian played silly games
with Anna and held her hand while the doctor checked her over one more time,
then slipped away for a sandwich in the cafeteria and finally dozed off
herself in the big chair beside the hospital bed as evening advanced.

John's footsteps woke her. She
glanced in confusion at her watch, to find that it was nine-thirty. He pulled
the curtain around the bed to screen them from the door, then carried a chair
from the other side of the room and set it beside hers. Raising his eyebrows
inquiringly, he nodded at Anna, who was sound asleep.

"She's fine,"
Marian said softly. "Her usual self, except for a headache. How are Emma
and Jesse? You didn't have to come back."

John lowered himself to the
chair and stretched. "Isaiah kicked me out. Said if he couldn't manage two
kids less than waist-high, he was ready to retire."

"Jesse didn't
mind?"

That disarming grin flashed.
"Actually, I already tucked them in. Isaiah's going to sleep in your bed,
so Jesse'll find somebody if he goes wandering tonight."

"Poor Isaiah."
Then, "How did you know about Jesse?"

"I met him one night. He
trundled past, carrying that disreputable rabbit, and turned right into your
bedroom. I was jealous."

Marian flushed. "You
never tried."

"Big mistake," he
murmured, then took her hand. "Go back to sleep. I just wanted to keep you
company."

"Thank you," she
whispered. "I felt...awfully lonely today."

His intent gaze belied his
light tone. "That's why I'm here."

And so they sat there as the
hushed hours of the night slipped past. Sometimes they whispered, sometimes
they dozed. Even half sleeping, Marian was conscious of John beside her, of his
long legs stretched out beside hers and the sound of his breathing, the shadow
of a beard on his hard jaw, and the tenderness in his eyes when he smiled
tiredly at her.

Morning arrived with a brisk
nurse who shook her head. "Didn't we offer you a bed last night?"

Marian pushed her hair back
from her face and stifled a yawn. When Anna's eyes popped open and she stared
in alarm at the nurse, Marian gave her small hand a reassuring squeeze. "I
didn't want her to wake up and wonder where I was."

The nurse nodded approvingly.
"That's what parents are for." She took Anna's temperature in astonishingly
short order. "The doctor will be in to see her shortly, and then I'm sure
you'll be able to take her home."

Home had never sounded
better. Marian longed for a bath and Jesse and breakfast, not necessarily in
that order. Poor Isaiah, she thought again, then had to concentrate for a
moment to remember what day this was.

Sunday. Church and an extra
fat newspaper, football and Emma's daddy coming home.

Only...he was already home.
Which meant he couldn't be on TV. Had they found a replacement for him? Would
he be in trouble with the network?

But the doctor bustled in,
Anna's chart in his hand. "Would you like to go home?" he asked her,
and she shyly nodded. "Well, tell you what," he said. "You let
me take a last peek at your eyes and poke you a little, and I'll bet you'll
find something in this pocket for you." He patted his lab coat. "What
d'you say?"

She stared at him
consideringly from big dark eyes and finally nodded again. Her gaze never
wavered while he peered into her eyes and checked her reflexes. Then her small
hand crept out and returned clutching a Tootsie pop.

"Nothing like a little
sugar before breakfast," he said. "Well, Mom and Dad, you can take
your little girl home."

Marian blinked, but didn't
correct him. "Thank you," she said.

Anna waited until the doctor
left. "Why did he say John was my daddy?"

"Do you think we look
alike?" John asked.

She shook her head, then held
still while Marian put her socks on.

"Maybe just because I'm
here," John said. "That's what daddies do."

"Some daddies,"
Anna said.

Astonished, Marian stopped
with the sweatshirt in her hand. Anna had never asked about her father before,
but clearly she had thought about him.

"All real daddies,"
John said firmly. "The kind that count."

Oh, boy, Marian thought. What
timing. She was much too tired to cope with this subject. How did you explain
about a daddy who didn't even want to visit and make it not be hurtful?

But Anna startled her by
announcing, "Do you want to be my daddy today?"

"Why not?" John
shoved a shoe on her foot. "You hungry? How about breakfast at
MacDonald's?"

"I think you're a good
daddy," Anna decided.

Marian couldn't help herself.
She started to laugh. "Sweetheart, you think with your tummy."

John's mouth curled into a
heart-stopping grin. "Yeah, but her tummy's got good taste."

Even MacDonald's version of
French toast tasted good this morning to Marian, who felt euphoric. Yesterday's
loneliness and fear had been replaced by a world set right again. She thought.
She hoped.

Marian stole a glance at
John, who was gathering up their trash. His eyes met hers and he smiled. She
could see the weariness on his face, a few more lines than he'd had yesterday,
his unshaven jaw and rumpled hair, but he had never looked better to her. She
smiled a little shyly, and something flickered in his eyes. Something
profound—and primitive.