Rachel Van Dyken (7 page)

****

The morning’s events plagued Mara’s thoughts as she made
lunch
for the two gentlemen. It was like the
N
orth vers
u
s the
S
outh. Every time she checked on David
during the
day
,
she made certain care to tiptoe up the stairs,
so
Blaine
wouldn’t
hear and wake up.

What
a bear of a man! Imagine! Yelling at a woman? She was only trying to help, but he wasn’t seeing it as help
.
H
e saw it as meddling, the
exact
opposite of what she was doing
!
Couldn’t he see his father was dying? He wasn’t even at a hospital
.
He was home
;
sen
t home to die! Blaine needed to face that reality sooner rather than later
. If something
happened
before he
could
reconcile with David, he’
d
never forgive himself.
B
ut
Blaine
wouldn’t listen to her
,
or even
speak to
his father
.
How was she going to get through to him?

Her eyes darted to the closed cabinet doors; the same doors that held Blaine’s pictures and David’s letters. Letters with unbroken seals—all addressed to the
unforgiving
pilot in the next room. He had no idea how much his father regr
etted everything that happened.

“It’s why God made women
,
”
s
he said out loud
and
began cutting bread for sandwiches. The more she thought about her interaction with Blaine
,
the harder she sliced
,
until she
almost took off a finger.
Mara
put the knife down and wiped her forehe
ad with the back of her hand.

Breathless
, she peeked
at
the closed door of Blaine’s room. Naturally he would rather sit
in
there all day and pout
,
rather than deal with
the
giant elephant in the room.
A heavy sigh escaped her throat as
she pulled out
the
mayonnaise and ham
to
finish off the
sandwiches.
She hoped
making
David’s
favorite would put him in a happier disposition, though heaven
knew
what type of mood she would find him in
after
his son reject
ed
him.

Steadying
the tray on both arms she
tiptoed
up the stairs. As her foot touched the final stair, a
loud
cre
a
k blasted through the house. “Oh
,
dear Lord
,
let him sleep.
I’m not ready for another confrontation with that man.”

She paused, only able to hear her own ragged breathing and
the
frantic beating of her heart. After a few seconds
,
she felt it was safe enough to proceed to David’s room. In any other situation she would have laughed to think she was sneaking around the house because she was afraid of
waking a
tragically
handsome man.

The weather must be getting to her.

Or maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t seen a more handsome man in all her life. All his pain made him appear haggard, but behind his rugged
,
bitter features la
y
beautiful
gray
eyes. A warmth
lived
there, but it was behind such a
solid mask of indifference
she wasn’t sure if she would ever get to
see
his smile.

“Lunch
is served!” Mara entered in unannounced. David was perched on his bed reading a book. Spectacles on his face, he looked every inch the doting old man she had grown to love. Tears
still sprinkled his worn face.

“Ah
,
my girl! You spoil me!” David winked and
struggled to sit
up further on the bed as she placed the tray in front of him. “What’s this?” His old hand moved over the fudge brownie in pure satisfaction. “You made des
s
ert too?”

Mara shrugged
.
“
Sometimes we just need a little chocolate
.”
Especially af
ter such a trying day
.

The unspoken words hung heavy between them.

“Thank you
,
Mara.” David looked away and wiped his eyes, then picked up the first ham sandwich. “Are w
e to go for a walk today?”

Mara hesitated, not knowing if she should tell him that she’d rather take her chances with wolves than be caught walking by Blaine’s room with his sick father.

Smiling she patted his hand and said
,
“Maybe, but you need to rest if you’re going to have enough strength to do so.”

“A book then?” David’s pleading eyes were impossible to deny.

Mara swiped the worn
Pride and Prejudice
from the book
shelf
and smiled. David rolled his eyes
.
“Okay
,
fine
,
Mara, but don’t go blabbing it to everyone.”

Smiling, she opened the book and cleared her throat, putting on a serious face so that she could adequate
ly do Miss Austen justice. “W
here were we? Hmm
…
Mr. Darcy at the country ball? No, that wasn’t it
.
W
as it perhaps when Elizabeth goes
to visit her friend Charlotte—”

“—stop teasing
,
Mara
.
Y
ou know it was the part where Mr. Darcy is confessing his love to Elizabeth.”

“Oh
, that’s right.
” Mara laughed and opened to the correct chapter. “Elizabeth….”

****

Taking a deep breath, Blaine resigned himself to what he had to do. It was, after all, why he had requested leave and made the trip all the way from Boston. As he started up the narrow staircase, he could hear the woman speaking to his father. His door was open
,
and she was sitting on a chair near his bed reading out of an old book.
She blocked his view of the old man.

He stepped into the doorwa
y and watched her
a moment
in silence
. When she stopped reading and looked up, he could hear his father say something i
n
a raspy voice. She laughed – a clear, pure laughter. Blaine cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

Mara rotated in her chair to look at him,
rising
and glancing back at the bed-ridden man.

“I’d like to see my father now,” Blaine stated flatly.

When s
he stepped out of the way, Blaine
realized he had not sufficiently prepared himself for what he might see.
The reality of his
father’s
illness sank in as he laid eyes on the old man
for the first time in over ten years.
His hair was so white. He was thin and pale, literally wasting away. Even the room smelled like death.

The last time Blaine saw his father, he was a different man. Tall and strong
with dark wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. This was only a shadow of the man he had left behind so long ago. His eyes were the same though, and they lit up with recognition of his son – an anticipation of
sorts. The sight of his father was a shock,
but it was
not enough to erase the years of anger and
lack of forgiveness
Blaine had been harboring, so he set his jaw in determination not to allow pity to win over his affections.

“Son!” David exclaimed, as he struggled to sit up further in his bed. Mara rushed to his side to arrange his pillows.

The very word seemed to sear Blaine’s heart and stir his fury
. He seethed. “I have a name,
s
ir. I’d prefer you to use it.” The wound was visible in his father’s eyes, but the young man steeled himself against the emotional tug.

“Of course. I’m glad you’re here, … Blaine.” His voice was weak and raspy.

That makes one of us,
Blaine thought, but he said nothing. The man was suffering enough. And Blaine was nothing if
not a model of control
.
Well, when he was sober – a fading dull ache under his right eye reminded him why sober was best.

The woman was
shooting daggers at him already. How could she be so attached to
the old man
?

The effort it took for David to speak was evident. Wheezing, he said, “
You’ve met my nurse? Mara Crawford?”
He gestured toward the woman. “Mara, this is my – um, Blaine Graham.”

“The captain and I met downstairs, Mr. Graham.” She smiled at the old man sweetly.

David gazed at Blaine with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes. Hesitantly, he spoke again.
“
I want to tell you…” The words seemed to drain him of energy, but he pressed on. “We have some things to sort out
.”

“It would seem we are way past that,
s
ir,
” Blaine challenged.

The impact of his
comment
seemed to bring the wrath of his father’s nurse.

“I think he’
s had enough for now,” she announced, stepping between David and Blaine. “It’s time for his medication. You should leave.”

Blaine shrugged and glanced back at his father. David faced the window on the opposite wall and shrank back down into his bed, defeated. A heaviness descended in the pit of
Blaine
’s stoma
ch.
This was way worse than he thought it was going to be.

He stalked out of the room and down the stairs to the living room. He was too angry to sit down, so he paced to the window and stared out at the snow-filled yard.
The snow had started up again. Large fluffy flakes drifted down, creating a white haze in the afternoon sky.

Michigan winters were always white. His mother had loved the winter. Christmas was a major production at their house before she… They would go out tree-hunting for the perfect tree every year on the same day. They’d squeeze into his father’s Model A pickup and drive out to the country, hike up into the hills and pick out the tree his mother knew she just couldn’t live without. Her excitement was contagious. Even his father would laugh and tease her about how dramatic she was when she found the right one. She’d clap her hands and dance around the tree, forcing Blaine and his father to join her.

When they got home she would make
them cups of
steaming hot chocolate while Blaine’s father set up the tree in the living room. Right
t
here. Right
t
here
in front of the window,
where Blaine now stood. Even after his mother became sick, he remembered his father taking him up the hill to find that tree. Blaine was given the job of finding the one he knew his mother would love.

That was the last time a Christmas tree stood here. His father had refused to celebrate Christmas after Blaine’s mother passed away. Blaine had begged him every year. He had wanted to pull out his mother’s box of decorations and remember the stories she would tell about each ornament. The way she had
taken hours to tell them while they trimmed the tree together.
But his father had
just
shaken
his head and looked away from him sadly. He didn’t want to take
time for such things. Blaine hadn’t celebrated Christmas
properly
since he was ten years old.

“What was that
?”
The angry woman interrupted his thoughts as she entered the room behind him. Blaine cringed at the sound.

He didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she would go away.

No such luck. He could feel her advancing on him, closing the space between them until she stepped around him and could look
straight
into his eyes.

Blaine tried to avoid her gaze. He looked past her out at the falling snow, pretending she wasn’
t there, but she would have none of that.

“Captain Graham. What
was
that?” she demanded and stood on her tiptoes to meet his eyes.

“Mrs. Crawford,
you can’t possibly understand
.
”

“Can’t understand? You think your problems are so complex?
You think nobody else can possibly
figure you out? I had heard pilots were arrogant, but you take the cake!”

“
You think you
already
know me.
”

“I do know you, Captain. Men like you are a dime a dozen.
You think you know better than anyone else.
You do some
fancy flying
, get a little recognition
, and suddenly
the people back home aren’t good enough for your attention, so you go off and forget them.”

“
That’s not what happened.
”

“Isn’t it? I just witnessed it with my own eyes! That’s your father up there!
Sent home to die
! And you’re still trying to pay him back for a little boy’s
hurt pride
!”

“I’m sorry you had to witness that.” He looked away again. Why was she so intent on making sure he felt like the crud he
’d
tracked in on her clean floor?

A long uncomfortable silence encompassed them. She seemed to be waiting for him to say more. Was she waiting for him to explain? Explain a lifetime of hurt to a total stranger who had already made it abundantly clear whose side she was on?

“That’s it? Is that all you’re going to say?”

“This is between my father and me. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that.”

“I’m here for your father, so anything that affects him concerns me.”

Blaine looked directly in to her fiery emerald eyes.
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Mrs. Crawford. That is the best excuse for butting into other people’s business I have ever heard.” That shut her up, and Blaine took the opportunity to head out through the kitchen to the back door. He had to get out of that house and quick.

Out on t
he porch he slumped i
n
to
the old rocking chair
. The paint was peeling and one of the
runners
w
as
loose
, issu
ing a creak as he lowered himself into it
.
He leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.
H
e rocked gently
and
tried to
remembe
r
his mother again. On warm summer evenings she used to come out to the porch with a basket full of socks, ease herself into the rocker and
sip iced tea and darn socks while she
watch
ed
him
play catch with his father in the backyard.

H
is
dad had taught him
how
to hold his glove just so and how to follow through
as he
thr
e
w. His mother cheered wildly the first time he caught
the ball, and his father
hoisted
him
up o
n his shoulders and paraded past
the back porch while his mother clapped and laughed.

Blaine was still lost in his
memories when the screen door squ
eaked open and Mara stepped out beside him. The slamming of the door caught his attention and he glanced up at
her
and cringed.
Her face was drawn with a tight frown and
her arms crossed against her chest. He didn’t figure a welcome home speech was headed his way tonight.
A quiet sigh escaped his throat, as she started to speak.

“Captain Graham, I was thinking.
Will you come inside? I have something I think you should see.”

You have got to be kidding me. She is absolutely relentless.
But w
hen he hesitated,
she grew more insistent. “Please. It will only take a minute.”

Blaine nodded reluctantly and followed her back inside.
It was cold outside anyway, and he had left his coat in the kitchen.