03 The Long Road Home (13 page)

"No.  Why?"

"Gina's worried that Jack may not care for her anymore."

"That's ridiculous," Matt dismissed.  "Why, he's working his tail off to make sure she and the baby have all they need."

"Matt, he barely speaks to her."

"Just because he's not around to fall in with her wishes, Gina is feeling insecure.  Women hate to lose control."

"Don't you dare compare Gina to the women you knew," snapped Margaret.  "She is not trying to control Jack."

"What is she trying to do then?"

"She just wants him to work less, spend more time with her and the baby."

The light in Margaret's eyes warned Matt he was in trouble.  He tried to change the subject.  "The man's probably tired when he comes in and doesn't feel like talking."

"How much energy does it take to say `I love you'?"  Margaret demanded.

Matt looked at her sparkling eyes and angry mouth and asked, "Has anyone said them to you, Margaret?"

"N...no." 

Matt wondered what it would be like to say them to her.  He couldn't say them though, till the words would signify a love that would last them for the rest of their days. 

"There you are," Aunt Jan said, coming out into the garden.  "Why, Matt, how nice to see you.  As hard as you work, it’s good to know you're taking time to relax as well.  Mac tells me though you pay for a room in his motel you really live at the truck stop."

"Relaxing is only possible in the right surroundings and with the right company," Matt said glancing at Margaret.

"True," Janet beamed at him.  "I suppose that's why Margaret insists on us making a trip to Yosemite National Park.  It's the only place I sit around and do absolutely nothing."

"It's hard to imagine you doing nothing," Matt said.   “Is she taking enough rope to tie you down?”

"Would you like to come with us to Yosemite?"  Janet asked suddenly.  "Timmy's going to stay here, but the cabin Margaret's rented sleeps four easily."

Matt couldn't make out Margaret's expression.  Her head was bowed over the rose she held.

"When are you going?" he asked.

"We're leaving Monday after next, and we'll be there for a couple of weeks."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to get away then.  There are a couple of conventions I have to attend in L.A. during that period."

"That’s too bad.”  Aunt Jan frowned.  “Matt, Joe told me you've bought some land here.  Are you planning to expand your truck stop?"

"No," said Matt, aware of Margaret's surprised gaze on him.  "I'm planning on building a house."

"You sound as if you've decided to stay around Inchwater, Matt."  Aunt Jan said.

He hesitated.  "Inchwater kind of grows on you.  Everyone tells me there's nothing much here and yet it seems to have everything I want.  A slower pace, a way of life where people have time for each other."

Aunt Jan got to her feet.  "Eight o'clock.  It's time for my show.  Excuse me, won't you?"

She was gone before either of them could say anything.  Matt smiled at Margaret.  "She's never run off like that before."

"It's her favorite show and she doesn't like missing any of it."  Margaret's mind wasn't on Aunt Jan's hasty retreat.  It was on Matt's decision to settle in Inchwater. 

"Have you heard from Dr. Edwards?"

Margaret shook her head.  "He won't rush into a decision."

"An Institute here would change things in Inchwater.  More jobs would bring in more people; maybe even attract a developer or two.  Does the thought of Inchwater changing bother you?"  Matt asked.

Margaret shook her head.  "I don't think we will ever become a big city, but the Institute will provide jobs and pave the way for facilities we've had to do without all this time.  It will be nice to have an elementary school and a medical clinic here."

"You won't blame me, then, for Inchwater changing?"

Margaret wasn't sure if she imagined the hint of watchfulness in Matt's eyes.

"Like I blamed you about Timmy working at the truck stop?  Aunt Jan told me yesterday how worried she was about the boy Timmy had started hanging out with in Dan's Donuts."

"Have you had a chance to talk to Timmy and tell him what you told me on the beach?" asked Matt.  "That after he gets a degree, you won't object to any career he chooses?"

Margaret shook her head.  "Not yet.  I don't want to risk wording it wrong and upsetting Timmy more."

Matt placed an arm around Margaret's shoulders and it seemed natural to move closer and rest her head against his shoulder.  There was comfort in his warmth, in the tenuous peace between them.

Janet Hooper peeped out a little later from an upstairs window and smiled.  She wondered how long it was going to take those two to realize they were made for each other. 

Busy peeling shrimp at the sink, Margaret didn't look up when the telephone rang at eleven the next morning.

"Margaret!"  The tone made her spin around.  Aunt Jan stood by the kitchen telephone, her face white.  Her gaze went blankly to the pie crust she had been rolling, then at the peaches simmering on the top of the stove, as if she wasn't quite sure where she was.

"What's wrong, Aunt Jan?"  Margaret quickly washed her hands and went to her side.  "Where does it hurt?""

"It's Timmy," Aunt Jan said blankly.

"What about Timmy?" Margaret asked over the sledgehammer strokes of her heart.

"That was the Las Vegas police.  Timmy has been admitted to Las Vegas General Hospital with minor injuries.  He is with one of Matt's drivers, Brett someone-or -other."  Aunt Jan sank into a chair, removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.  "I can't bear it if anything happens to Timmy."

Margaret knew Aunt Jan loved her as much as she did Timmy, but Timmy had been Aunt Jan's baby.

Automatically, Margaret put an arm around Aunt Jan's shoulders, and steered her to a chair.  "Don't worry.  If it was really serious, the police would have told you.  We'll leave for Las Vegas immediately."

Aunt Jan looked at her and said, "I can't go with you.  I just can't.  I'll wait by the phone."

The words made Margaret realize Aunt Jan feared the worst.  The last few minutes had drained her of all her normal vitality.  She looked just like the time she had heard of her sister and brother-in-law's death.  Margaret's own mind replayed a similar scenario. 

"Oh, Timmy."  Aunt Jan closed her eyes as if to block out the thoughts.

A fierce tide of protective love rose in Margaret.  "Timmy will be fine," she said firmly, "I'll call as soon as I see him."

Aunt Jan nodded vaguely as Margaret looked around for the bag she had dropped on the counter when she had returned from the store that morning.  Spying it under the newspaper, Margaret picked it up.  Bending to kiss Aunt Jan's cheek, she said, "I'll call you as soon as I get there.  Try not to worry too much."

Going into the restaurant, Margaret told Stacey O'Hara, one of the new employees, what had happened. 

"Don't you worry about your aunt," Stacey said immediately.  "I'll stay with her till we hear something."

"Thanks," said Margaret, heading for the door.  Hurrying out to where Beelzebub was parked, she flung her bag into the back seat and got into the car.

Margaret rested her head against the steering wheel for a minute, willing herself to stop shaking.  She saw herself standing by her parents' grave with Aunt Jan and Timmy.  Aunt Jan's face as it had been a few minutes ago popped into her mind.  Frantic, desolate, withered.

Please don't let anything happen to Timmy. 

It took exactly four minutes to get to the truck stop.  As Margaret got out of the car, Matt came down the steps of the front office toward her.

"Have you heard anything?" she demanded.

"Timmy's injuries aren't serious.  I spoke to a doctor in Las Vegas General and the police.  It seems Timmy surprised the burglar as he was attempting to remove a box from the trailer."

All Margaret's mind saw was Timmy lying in a bed, in a body cast. 

"How could you deliberately let Timmy go on that run when you knew it was dangerous?"  she asked bitterly. 

Matt put his hands on her shoulder.  "Listen to me, Margaret."

She moved away from him.  "No, you listen to me, Matt.  You had no business sending Timmy to Vegas."

"Margaret, I didn't even know he was on that run till I got the call from Brett Hancock, the driver of the rig, a while back."

Tears blurred her vision, and she turned away to her car.  Recriminations weren't any use now.  She had to get to Timmy.

"Margaret, come with me.  I am leaving for Vegas immediately." 

"You've done enough," she flung at him.  "Just stay away from us in the future, Matt.  I should never have listened to you in the first place.  I knew no good would come of Timmy getting involved with trucking."  Angrily, Margaret turned the key in the ignition.  Beelzebub refused to start.  Trying again and again, Margaret finally got out of the car and slammed the door. 

"Margaret, come with me," Matt repeated.

It was better than wasting time persuading someone else to take her in to Vegas.  On her way here, she had passed Joe, lying under his jacked up car.  Waiting for him to put the wheels back on would take too long.  She really had no choice except to go with Matt.

CHAPTER TEN

Heading for Matt’s car in silence, Margaret got in brushing her tears aside.  Timmy couldn't die now.  She wouldn't let him.

"The bump on Timmy's head is the size of an egg," she heard Matt say quietly.  "An x-ray has revealed no internal injuries"

What did he know?  There were cases where a person with head injuries went into a coma years later for no apparent reason.  There were cases....

Stop it.  You're making a mountain out of a molehill.  If Timmy wasn't all right, Matt would say so.

Margaret swallowed.  Matt had never lied to her about anything.  As some of her fear receded, she recalled something Matt had said earlier.  He hadn't known that Timmy was on this run.

Margaret moved restlessly on her seat, stealing a glance at Matt's profile.  Why had she blamed him for Timmy's mishap without waiting to check her facts out?

Margaret sighed.  It had to do with having red hair.  It had to do with not having let go of her brother yet. 

Timmy has a lump the size of an egg on his head.  Matt's calm, measured tones had told her the exact extent of her brother's injuries.  Timmy had been hurt worse when he had fallen out of the apple tree in the backyard and broken his arm.  Then there was the time he had fallen off his skateboard and got a bump the size of an ostrich egg on his forehead.  She hadn't blamed anyone on those occasions.

You flew off the handle without any cause didn't you?

Closing her eyes, Margaret admitted she had.  How could she have hurt Matt so badly?

"Matt," she put her hand out and touched his arm.  "I'm sorry I said what I did at the truck stop."

"That's okay Margaret.  You were scared."

His voice frightened her.  It was the tone of a stranger.  Reserved, formal, aloof.

Margaret swallowed hard.  "Timmy chose to go on the trip, and no one is responsible for what happened to him.  The shock of the news and seeing Aunt Jan so upset made me over react, but that's no excuse for attacking you.  Forgive me."

"Don't worry about it."  He sounded weary, as if he didn't want to discuss the subject any more.

Margaret wanted to say something, anything, but the words died in her throat.  The stranger who sat beside her wouldn't encourage conversation.

A glance at her watch revealed that it was half an hour since they had left Inchwater.  They should be in Vegas in two hours.  Leaning back in her seat, Margaret closed her eyes.

Why had she lashed out like a wild animal in pain? 

I knew no good would come of Timmy being involved with trucking. 

Margaret cringed in her seat.  That one statement must have convinced Matt she had lost none of her fears about trucking.  She ought to tell him it wasn't trucking she was afraid of; it was of losing her brother, period.  The dread that the same Fate that had snatched her parents away, was reaching out for Timmy had made her blind to everything else.  Fear had snapped the bonds of self-control and she had lashed out at Matt.

Matt probably thought all she had said about coming to terms with Timmy's choice of occupation was just a front.  Margaret bit her lip.  He must think she was like the women his father had married who would say anything to get what they wanted.

She was back to square one, and whereas the first time around Matt had been there to help her, now Margaret knew she was absolutely alone.

They stopped at a fast food restaurant halfway to Vegas.  Matt bought himself coffee, and Margaret had a glass of lemonade.  She stared at him and wished life came equipped with rewind and erase buttons.  She would give anything to wipe out the last hour from Matt's memory.

Timmy was the sole occupant of a room with two beds in it.  He was sitting up watching a music video on television when they pushed the door of his room open.

"Timmy, are you all right?"

The sight of the bandage around his head, and his paler than normal face worried Margaret.  The flood of relief bubbling up in her that his condition wasn't worse brought tears to her eyes.

"Hi sis!  Hi Mr. Magnum!"  Timmy flicked the television set off.  "You didn't have to come out here.  I'm fine."

"Your sister was worried about you."  Margaret heard the reproof in Matt's voice.

Tim seemed to hear it too, because he said, "I'm sorry, sis.  All I meant was I'm not hurt bad or anything."

Margaret looked at him, "Are you sure?"

Timmy nodded, "I'm sure."

Margaret blinked backed the tears.  "I'll call Aunt Jan and be right back.  She was worried sick."

"I've already called her," Timmy said quickly.  "After my doctor talked to Mr. Magnum, he came in and said Mr. Magnum wanted me to call Aunt Jan.  She told me you were already on your way here."

Warmth wrapped Margaret's heart.  Matt had been thinking of them even then.  Feeling worse than before, Margaret sat down on a chair beside the bed. 

"What happened?" she asked Timmy.

"Brett and I stopped at this rest area thirty miles outside Vegas.  First, I thought I'd get a soda; then I changed my mind and decided to return to the truck.  I heard some kind of sound from the rear, and I went toward it.  I just caught a glimpse of this man fiddling with the lock before he pushed me over and ran.  I hit the back of my head when I fell."

Margaret swallowed hard.  What if the man had had a weapon?  What if...?

Matt's hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present in time to hear Timmy say, "...and the police got a report from me after the doctor checked me out.  Dr. Patterson wouldn't allow the newspaper reporter to talk to me though."

Timmy didn't sound too happy about being deprived of his shot at fame.

A sound at the door drew their attention to it.  A nurse bustled in, placed a thermometer in his mouth and took his pulse.

Glancing at them she said, "Your family?"

Timmy nodded and Margaret said, "I'm Tim's sister, Margaret Browning, and this is a friend, Matthew Magnum."  She hoped the last part was still true.

"Stop by the nurse's station at the end of your visit, will you?" the nurse said.

"You mean I'm not leaving with them?"  Tim asked as the thermometer was removed.

The nurse shook her head firmly.  "Dr. Patterson wants to keep you overnight for routine observation."

"Oh, man!"  Tim sank against his pillows, the epitome of teenage frustration.

"One night of rest will have you feeling like new," the nurse said.  "The sedative I gave you a while back is going to make you very drowsy.  Don't fight it.  Before you know it, it will be morning and you will be out of here."

Timmy groaned as the door shut behind him.  "I wanted to get back to Inchwater tonight.  Jack said he'd take me to Los Angeles tomorrow."

Margaret bit down hard on her lower lip to stop the protest that immediately sprang to her lips. 

"No more runs till I say so, Tim," she heard Matt say.  "You'll have to rest for a few days to make sure you are absolutely well.  I don't want Margaret and Janet worrying about you."

There was no mistaking the authority in Matt's voice.  Tim stared at him in surprise and then said very quietly, "Yes, sir."

Matt and Margaret said their goodbyes half an hour later when they saw Tim's eyes begin to close.  Bending to brush a kiss on her brother's forehead, Margaret said, “‘Bye Tim.  We'll be back first thing in the morning."

Tim actually raised his hands, placed them around her shoulders, and kissed her on her cheek.  “‘Bye sis.  'Bye Mr. Magnum."

Margaret walked out of the room dazed by her brother's show of affection.  It had been so long since Timmy had voluntarily made a gesture of affection.  The sedative must have overridden his I’m all grown up behavior.

The nurse looked up as they stopped at her station.  "Got a message for you here somewhere.  Ah, here it is."  She handed over an envelope and said, "It's from the police department.  Didn't want to mention it in front of Tim and get him all worked up.  He's very excited about what happened, as it is."

Matt ripped the envelope open as Margaret said, "Is he really all right?"

"Fit as a fiddle," said the nurse.  "It's routine to keep head injuries overnight, to make sure there's no concussion or after effects.  Come by for him at eleven tomorrow.  Dr. Patterson makes his rounds at ten, and he will sign the discharge papers then.  The doctor left his number in case you want to talk to him, personally.  Mr. Magnum told him he was bringing you here, and he would appreciate the doctor making himself available to talk to you.  You're a lucky young woman to have a man like that."

Margaret looked at Matt.  Yes, she was lucky.  He had done everything he could and more to help.  She wondered if he would ever forgive her.  He looked up at her, and she said quickly.  "I think I'll find a..."  The rest of the words died on her lips as she saw his face.  "What is it?"

"They want me to go down to the police station.  They've picked up a man fitting Timmy's description of the suspect, who's confessed to the burglaries."

Margaret stared at Matt in surprise.  "That's quick work."

He folded the note and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.  "It is."

"Where to, next?"  Matt asked as they left the hospital parking lot. 

Margaret looked away quickly, "If you'll just drop me at the first motel we come to, I'll check in.  Tomorrow, I will rent a car before picking Tim up at the hospital."

"I'm not going to leave you here alone.  We’ll check into a casino.  I have to go to the police station and then I want to show you Vegas.  It's not a city one sleeps in at night."

Margaret took a deep breath.  "You aren't angry with me anymore?"  Her voice held one part question, two parts wonder.

"If danger had threatened Susan, or Patricia, and I thought you were responsible, I would have lashed out exactly as you did."

Margaret swallowed the lump in her throat as the light changed, and the car sped forward.  Matt understood why she had reacted like she did, and that was important.

"So, will you let me show you Vegas?"  Matt asked.

"I don't have anything to wear for tonight."  The shorts and top she was wearing were hardly appropriate.

"We'll go shopping for an outfit and pick up some toilet articles as well before we find a place to stay.  What do you say to staying at a casino on the Strip?"

Margaret nodded.  She had  been to Vegas before with a girlfriend from college, but on a tight budget they hadn’t stayed overnight. Matt pulled up at a shopping plaza, and Margaret picked out an embroidered cotton dress, an oversized tee shirt to sleep in, and a few other necessities, paying for them with her credit card, while Matt made his own purchases.

He picked a casino for them to stay at and while he asked for two rooms Margaret looked around her fascinated.  Millions of lights, the sound of money falling out of slot machines, the smell of smoke, the sight of the waitresses in their skimpy costumes, people everywhere.  The inside of the casino looked like a movie set.

"Come on.  We've got rooms at the back where it's quiet."

Separated from the main casino by the swimming pool, their rooms were on the ground floor of a building at the rear. 

Matt opened her door, and then stood aside and handed her the key to her room.  "Take a nap if you want to," he said.  "I'll be at your door at eight."

Asking room service to call her in an hour, Margaret lay down on the double bed intending only to stretch out for a few minutes.  She reached out and rubbed a hand against her forehead.  So much had happened since this morning and her mind, as usual, was doing its juggling act, tossing thoughts at her like colored balls.

Her first reaction to the news that Timmy had been hurt was that she wanted him to be all right.  It was the most important thing in the world to Margaret.  Nothing else mattered, beside that.  Timmy could decide to set up a grocery store on the moon and she wouldn't mind, as long as he was well and happy doing it.

Margaret closed her eyes.  She finally knew what she wanted to tell her brother.

The ringing of the telephone woke Margaret at seven thirty.  After a cool shower, she got into her new dress.  The bright flowers on the white background made it look smart enough to go out in.  She added the white hoops she had picked up on impulse, to her ears.  Maybe it was the atmosphere of Vegas but she wanted to look different tonight...more sophisticated, more sure of herself. 

Brushing her hair, Margaret gathered it into a loose knot at the top of her head, pinning it securely.  It left her neck bare and cool.  Using the powder compact and lipstick in her bag, she stood back, eyed her reflection, and frowned.  It looked as if a dozen freckles had appeared since this morning to keep the others company. 

The knock on the door came a second later.  Heart beating, Margaret hurried to open the door.  Matt looked at her and held a hand out.  "You look lovely."

Margaret's heart picked up its pace as she put her hand in his.  Maybe her freckles weren't quite as noticeable as she thought.

Darkness had fallen, and Vegas was at its best.  The casinos were enchanting with millions of lights illuminating their facades, each trying to outdo the other in brilliance and design.