Tracie Peterson (18 page)

“Should be,” Shelly called after her. “All the patients are gone.”

Ashley felt the joy of the moment reaching a wonderful climax. They were going to have another baby. It was all too wonderful to imagine. Without even bothering to knock, Ashley flung open Jack’s office door with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Have I got news for you!” she declared to her surprised husband.

Chapter 16

Mattie stood back to admire the wealth of buds on her rosebushes. “This will be the best year ever,” she told Harry.

Harry, sweaty and dirty from a hard day in the fields, nodded and took a long drink of the lemonade Mattie had poured for him only moments ago. “Everything is looking real good.”

“Another month of fair weather and sunshine and you’ll be harvesting your winter wheat crop,” Mattie stated matter-of-factly. She came to sit down beside Harry at the small patio table.

“True enough,” Harry said, his voice betraying his weariness.

“Harry, why don’t you get on home, clean up, and go to bed early?” Mattie suggested. “You’ve been working yourself too hard.”

“Now you’re sounding like Sarah,” Harry said none too affectionately.

“Well, this time I would have to agree with her. You have been working awfully hard.”

“No more than what it takes to keep the farm in order,” Harry replied defensively.

“I know that, Harry,” Mattie said softly. “I just worry about you.”

His expression relaxed. “I know.”

The cordless telephone gave a shrill ring. Mattie glanced at her watch. It was about a quarter to six. “Hello?”

“Mattie, it’s Jack.” His voice was edged with emotion.

“What’s the matter, Jack?” Mattie questioned, somehow knowing the news would be bad.

“Ashley’s been in a car accident. She’s hurt pretty bad. They’ve taken her to surgery.”

“What happened?” Mattie asked, sinking into the nearest chair.

“Uh . . . I’m not completely sure. She was here at my office and then she left in a hurry. It happened on the interstate. She wasn’t buckled in and the car flipped several times. Look, I just wondered if you could come out here. Ashley’s going to need you when she wakes up. For that matter, I’m going to need you too.”

“Of course I’ll come,” Mattie replied, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. How serious were Ashley’s injuries? What kind of surgery were they performing? Her mind flooded with questions.

She promised to call Jack back with the details of the flight, then took down the telephone number for the hospital on a scrap of paper that Harry handed her. Hanging up, she handed back the pencil stub Harry had also given her and shook her head.

“Ashley’s been in a car accident. I need to go to Denver.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “I’ll drive you to the airport.”

Mattie looked at him and sighed in relief. “Could you, Harry? That would be wonderful.”

“No problem. Why don’t you call and see what flights are available, and I’ll run home and shower. I can be back in fifteen minutes.” He was already getting to his feet.

“I should call the other girls. I doubt anyone can get away as quickly as I can. I know school’s not out for Connie, and Erica has a big concert coming up tomorrow night. Brook is in England somewhere and Deirdre is preparing for her trip to Hawaii.” Then Mattie thought about her commitment to care for Morgan while Deirdre was away. It was something she’d simply have to deal with later.

She thanked Harry again and hurried into the house as he made his way to the truck. She looked up the telephone number for the airlines and called the first one she came to. There was a flight out of Kansas City in the morning, but nothing that night. Continuing down the list, she called the next number and waited for what seemed an eternity.

Dear Lord
, she prayed,
please be with Ashley. I have no way of knowing her
needs, but you do. I also ask that you would just work out the details of my trip to Denver. You know it’s important for me to be there—at least I believe it’s important, so please provide a way.

“Thank you for holding,” the operator said pleasantly. “We have one flight out yet tonight. It’s the last one for the night and leaves at 9:45. Can you make that?”

“I’ll try,” Mattie said. “Book me on it.” She gave the woman all the necessary information, then hung up and raced for her bedroom. Pulling a suitcase out from under the bed, Mattie threw a hodgepodge collection of clothes into the case, then went to her sewing room and took several projects up to take with her to Denver. She would need something to keep her hands busy while she waited for news of Ashley.

She looked at the pieces in her hands and felt hot tears come to her eyes. Poor Ashley. She remembered a time when Ashley had fallen out of a tree down by the lake. Minutes later, Brook fell off the front porch and both girls sustained broken right arms. It was uncanny how the twins had a way of getting into similar problems at the same time.

This caused Mattie to tremble. Brook! What if something like this happened to her as well? Mattie felt a sense of true frustration. She knew Brook was in England, but she had no way to reach her. They were doing photo shoots somewhere on the moors in the northeast. Brook had had no way of giving Mattie an itinerary and instead promised to call from time to time as she always did when she went abroad.

Everyone seemed so far away. Fragmented into pieces and different directions of life. What had happened to her family? Why couldn’t they have all remained close to home? Mattie chided herself for being silly and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.
Maybe it’s because I’m growing old
, she thought.
Maybe that’s why it troubles me to see them so far apart—not only physically, but emotionally as well.

She heard the pickup horn and knew Harry had made it in record time. She hurried back to her bedroom and stuffed her
handwork into her suitcase, then zipped it closed. The last thing she took up was her well-worn Bible. This she would put in her purse.

Harry met her at the door and took her suitcase. “This it?” he asked, his hair still dripping water from his shower.

“Yes,” Mattie answered, looking around the room. “Oh, I forgot to call Jack with the flight information, and I still need to call the girls. Let me at least call Erica or Connie.” She went to the telephone and picked up the receiver. “That way they can tell the others and even call Jack for me.”

Harry nodded and waited at the open door.

“Erica?” Mattie said as she heard her granddaughter’s voice.

“Hi, Grammy. I was just on my way out the door. Dress rehearsal for tomorrow night, you know.”

“I understand. Look, I’m getting ready to head to the Kansas City airport with Harry. Ashley’s been in an accident and Jack has asked me to come to Denver.”

“Is it bad?” Erica asked.

“Bad enough that she’s in surgery. Look, I don’t know what all is wrong, but I’m going out there.”

“I can’t leave,” Erica said, as though Mattie wouldn’t already realize this.

“I know, sweetie. Don’t worry about it. If Ashley gets worse, I’ll call. But I need you to contact Deirdre and Connie. Can you do that after your practice or maybe right before?”

“Sure. I’ll take care of it.”

“Would you also call Jack and give him this flight information? I don’t know if Harry can get me to the airport in time, but we’re going to try. Either way, I want Jack to know where to send someone to pick me up.” Mattie didn’t wait for Erica’s response but hurriedly gave her the flight number and time of arrival, as well as the telephone number for the hospital.

“I’ll be praying,” Erica said before hanging up.

This came as a pleasant surprise to Mattie. “Pray for Harry and me as well. We may have to do some flying of our own, but it’s in God’s
hands. If I’m supposed to make that flight, God will make a way.”

“If you can’t go out until morning, you can always stay the night with me,” Erica offered. “My guest room is ready and waiting.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hanging up the telephone, Mattie grabbed her sweater and nodded to Harry. “Let’s go. It’s going to be tight—the flight is at 9:45.”

Harry grimaced and looked at his watch. “We’re going to need a minor miracle to make it.”

Mattie smiled. “We’d best get to praying, then.”

It was a little past one a.m. when Brook looked down at her watch for the fifth time in less than half an hour. She longed for nothing more than her own bed and her quiet little apartment in New York. Instead, she had to wait on her co-workers, most of whom were friends, while they partied. Their hotel was located not far from York, England, and somewhere nearly a dozen or so miles from there, one of the local estate owners had thrown a party.

Brook hadn’t wanted to attend the party, but because her manager pointed out that the host was a major player in their trip to England, Brook felt obligated to acquiesce and join in the merrymaking.

The estate was incredible with long rolling lawns of lush green and an intricate stone manor house with no fewer than forty rooms. When inside, Brook had the overwhelming sense of having stepped back in time. The ceilings were nearly thirty feet high and trimmed with the most incredible moldings. She walked from room to room, just gazing upward, studying the beauty.

“Hello,” a familiar voice sounded behind her. She turned to find Aaron Munns, one of the assigned photographers.

“Hello yourself,” she said, trying hard not to feel ill at ease. Aaron had asked her out on more than one occasion, and each time she’d told him no.

“This place is pretty impressive,” Aaron said, sweeping back his brown hair and smiling. “But I think I liked that one palace we used in Italy even better. Do you remember it—the one with all the gold trimming?”

“I’m not sure,” Brook replied, trying to conjure the image to mind.

“It was owned by a doctor and his wife. They were there for the entire shoot and kept asking us all questions about why we were doing things certain ways.”

Brook smiled. “Yes, I remember it now.” The mention of a doctor and his wife caused her to think of Ashley and Jack. Ashley had been on her mind all day and Brook felt a sense of urgency to get in touch with her twin.

“But this is nice,” Aaron continued. He smiled and the action lit up his entire face. He was a nice-looking man and he always treated Brook respectably, unlike some of the others. “In fact,” he added, “I could stand to spend a few days here. Couldn’t you?”

“Yes. Much nicer than traipsing around on the moors in hip waders,” Brook said, trying hard to remain interested in the conversation. She had promised Ashley that she would give special effort to keep from turning people away when they tried to befriend her. Especially men.

“You’d be mighty sorry without those pesky old things,” Miriam Wells, Brook’s manager said without concern that she had just interrupted a private conversation. The five feet four woman was built rather like a lineman for a football team. Stout and thick, she was a force to be reckoned with. “You’d be soaked to the knee before you made it halfway up one of those hills.” She turned to Aaron with a shrug. “Who would have thought the moors were so wet?”

“Yeah, but we got some great pictures. I think the client is going to be pleased,” Aaron said enthusiastically. “What with the way the skies were all gray and moody and the wind was just strong enough to add to the effect without ruining the shot . . . man, I was psyched.”

The room adjacent to theirs broke out in laughter, followed by
someone attempting to play a rendition of “Yankee Doodle” on the piano.

“Are you having a good time?” Miriam asked Brook.

“Actually, I’m exhausted. I’d really like nothing more than to go back to my hotel room and get out of these clothes. Do you suppose I could get away with that?”

Miriam frowned, but Aaron immediately jumped in. “I could take you. I was just about to give this up myself. We’ll never be missed.”

Brook felt herself tense at the thought of being alone with Aaron but said nothing. Instead, she looked at Miriam, who had charge over every area of her life—or so it seemed.

Miriam glanced at her watch. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have you get some rest. In fact, I should probably send Andrea and Kristy with you. No sense in having you completely done in for tomorrow’s shoot.”

“I thought that sickly waif look was in,” Aaron teased.

“True,” Miriam replied, not seeing any humor in his statement. “Go ahead, Brook. You’ve put in your appearance. I’ll talk to the others and see if they want to leave. If not, you two can go back alone.”

Alone.
The one word that Brook responded so poorly to. She would be alone with Aaron for a trip that would probably end up lasting twenty or thirty minutes, given the winding back roads they would need to take in order to get back to their hotel.

Miriam sauntered off across the room and into the adjoining one before Brook could say a single word.

“You don’t mind riding with me, do you?” Aaron asked. “I promise to behave myself. I won’t even ask you to go out with me. Although I do have tickets for a wonderful play in London.” He feigned stoic resolve. “But I won’t ask you to come with me. Not to the play. Not to a wonderful dinner. Not for a moonlight cruise on the Thames.”