A Reason to Believe (42 page)

“She’ll always miss you, Abby.”

“Just like I’ll miss her. But we’ll be together

again someday. You believe that, don’t you Matt?”

Her eyes were wide and guileless.

“Yeah, I do. Now.”

She hopped off the chair, and he expected her to

go, but she didn’t. She looked at him, an odd smile

on her piquant face.

“What?”

“I’m going,” she said with quiet emphasis. “But

Kiernan isn’t.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat.

“Do you understand? He’s staying. It isn’t his

turn yet.”

Matt inhaled sharply, his eyes beginning to fill.

“Yes, I understand. Thank you, Abby.”

She grinned. “Don’t thank me. And don’t waste

any more time.” She angled her head, and suddenly

she looked much older than six. “Life is a

wonderful thing, but it can be shorter than you

think. Don’t waste a second of it.” She started for

the door, but then stopped and placed the toy

carefully on a chair in the corner. “Here, Skittles

can keep you company. I don’t think he’d like it

much where I’m going.”

She came back to press a kiss to Matt’s cheek,

and he could actually feel her soft lips, smell the

soft scents of talcum powder and peppermint. She

turned and walked away, pausing to wave from the

doorway before she simply faded into nothing.

* * *

felt a hand close over his.

“Matt. What is it?”

He looked over into Sheila’s eyes and blinked

quickly. “Dream.” He rubbed his hands roughly

over his face. “How long was I out?”

“Maybe twenty minutes.” She offered her cup.

Matt shook his head. “No, thanks. I don’t think

my stomach could take it.” He exhaled, his breath

shuddering. “I’m guessing there was no news.”

“Not yet, but there should be soon.”

Almost as if their conversation had drawn him,

the doors to surgery swung open with a soft

whoosh, and a doctor in green scrubs and a paper

hairnet appeared, his mask hanging loose around

his neck. “Mr. Bennett?”

Matt surged to his feet. “Yes.”

The doctor crossed to him and offered his hand.

“I’m Dr. Sterling. I did the surgery on your friend.”

“Is he all right?”

The doctor’s face softened in a weary smile.

“He’s a tough one. We had a couple of scary

moments there, but he made it and his vitals are

much better than any of us could have expected.

We were able to repair the aorta and close the

hole in his lung. He’ll be sore for a while, but

other than that, there shouldn’t be any long-term

effects. He was very lucky.”

Matt exhaled fully for the first time since he

realized Kiernan had been hit, his knees suddenly

weak. He was grateful when Sheila was there, her

arm going around his waist.

“Oh, thank God,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Thank you so much, doctor.”

He shook her hand. “He should be out of

recovery in a bit. I’ll have a nurse come for you

when he regains consciousness.”

He left. Matt turned into Sheila’s arms, pulling

her to his chest and holding her tight.

“I’m so glad,” she said. “For both of you.”

Matt stepped back and nodded, and he didn’t

even mind that Sheila could see his relieved tears.

He brushed at them with his fingers, laughing

weakly, and turned.

And stopped.

Sitting on a chair in the corner was a stuffed

white unicorn with a fuzzy pink mane and tail and a

candy-colored striped horn. His head was cocked

at a quizzical angle, as if he had asked a question

and was waiting for an answer.

Matt stared at it, his heart swelling. “Sheila,” he

said, his voice hoarse. “Where did that come

from?”

She looked at the toy and shrugged. “No idea. I

noticed it when I got back with my coffee. I figured

maybe a child left it there accidentally.”

Matt crossed the room and picked it up. The fur

was soft and the black button eyes shone. “A child

left it,” he murmured. “But it wasn’t an accident.”

* * *

morning. Kiernan had been moved overnight, and

Matt stopped at the nurses’ station, asking for

directions to Room 535. The nurse smiled at him

and pointed, and Matt returned her smile.

He’d seen Kiernan for a brief moment in

recovery, but he’d been so groggy and out of it

Matt hadn’t lingered. If Sheila hadn’t been with

him, reassuring him that the sheer amount of

medical paraphernalia he was hooked up to was

just regular post-op, Matt would have been

terrified. There were dozens of tubes going in and

out under the light blankets, and his face was

mostly covered with an oxygen mask. Matt stayed

just long enough to touch his hand and find it

warm, and to reassure himself he really was

breathing. After, he followed Sheila’s advice and

went home for a shower, dodging the media still

camped outside his house. They were friendly and

anxious to hear his side of the dramatic events of

the night before, but Matt couldn’t have been less

interested in talking to them.

He went back to the hospital that night. Kiernan

was still mostly unresponsive, drifting in and out,

but the weak squeeze he gave Matt’s hand and his

soft smile were reassuring.

Sheila picked Aidan up at the airport and

brought her directly to the hospital. Matt was

concerned before she arrived. After all, she’d told

him if anything happened to Kiernan she’d hold

him responsible, and in his heart he couldn’t help

feeling that he was. But she looked at her brother,

tears streaming down her pale cheeks, then turned

to Matt and opened her arms.

“You didn’t do this,” she whispered against his

ear. “Kiernan has always made his own choices.

You mustn’t blame yourself.”

Matt hadn’t realized how much he needed to

hear the words until her absolution rushed over

him like a cleansing wave, leaving him weak with

relief. She sent him home, vowing to spend the

night at Kiernan’s bedside. Matt had been able to

go back home and collapse, sleeping twelve hours

straight.

He’d been eating a piece of toast in front of the

television when he saw coverage of Marc

Reynolds’ release from jail into his wife’s waiting

arms. “There ya go, Abby,” he’d murmured, and

his smile had lasted all the way back to the

hospital.

He paused briefly outside Room 535, then

pushed the door open and walked cautiously

inside.

The room was awash with winter sunlight from

a large window falling across the narrow bed in a

bright square. Kiernan’s head was turned toward

it, his eyes closed. Aidan wasn’t there, and Matt

wondered fleetingly where she was, then

remembered Sheila promising to come and take

her to breakfast.

He was profoundly relieved to find the amount

of medical equipment around Kiernan vastly

reduced. He was still connected to an IV and there

was a blood pressure cuff around his left arm. An

oxygen tube looped around his ears and was

inserted in his nose, but his heartbeat showed with

reassuring steadiness on a monitor above his head

on the wall. Matt crossed to the foot of the bed and

studied him.

His black hair was tousled, and his jaw and

upper lip were shadowed. There were dark

smudges beneath his closed eyes, and his long

black lashes lay on cheeks that were very pale.

Still, Matt didn’t think he’d ever seen anything in

his life as welcome as the steady rise and fall of

his chest beneath the bedding. He stood there for

several minutes, simply enjoying watching Kiernan

breathe, when the black lashes twitched and then

slowly lifted. He blinked several times, inhaled

deeply and then grimaced, his hand moving to the

thick bandages over his chest.

“Are you in pain?”

Kiernan turned his head quickly. “Hey,” he said,

his voice rough.

“Hey, yourself.” Matt crossed around to his

bedside, and saw a cup of ice water with a straw

sitting on a table near his head. “Are you thirsty?”

Kiernan nodded, and Matt lifted the cup, turning

the straw to his lips. Kiernan took small sips, then

pulled back with a sigh.

“Better?”

“Much.” Kiernan looked up at him, and the

small smile that spread across his features made

Matt feel like the most important person in the

world.

“Hi,” Kiernan murmured.

“Hi.” Matt gestured toward Kiernan’s chest.

“Sore?”

“Yeah, a bit.” Kiernan lifted his hand and Matt

took it. “But it’s not too bad.”

“Good.” Matt leaned over and pressed his

forehead against Kiernan’s, closing his eyes. “You

scared ten years off of my life.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I couldn’t just

let him shoot you. I had to…”

“It’s all right.” Matt pulled back slightly and

looked into his eyes. “I know. I’d have done

exactly the same thing if our situations had been

reversed.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Kiernan’s lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Matt kissed him. He’d meant it to be a simple

peck, but it turned into a slow, lingering kiss, full

of everything he felt and didn’t know how to say.

Kiernan stroked his head, then his neck. When their

lips parted, Matt pulled a chair close to the bed

and sat. He withdrew something from inside his

coat, and when he set it on Kiernan’s chest, the

dark-haired man looked at it with a quizzical

smile.

“Where did that come from?”

“It was a gift.”

“It looks just like Skittles.” Kiernan touched the

pink mane, a nostalgic smile flirting with his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it
is
Skittles.”

Kiernan’s eyes darted to his. Matt told him

about his dream and about finding the stuffed

animal on the chair when he’d wakened.

Kiernan smiled mistily, touching the striped

horn with the tip of his finger. “‘There are more

things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are

dreamt of in your philosophy.’”

“
Hamlet.
I will admit that particular quote has

more meaning to me recently. Particularly since

Christmas Eve.”

“I thought you were going to say since you met

me.” Kiernan looked at him fondly.

“Abby turned up before you did, remember.”

“That’s right, she did.”

“She said something to me, in my dream. She

said, ‘Life is a wonderful thing, but it can be

shorter than you think. Don’t waste a second of

it.’”

“Pretty smart for a six-year-old.”

“I certainly thought so.”

“And have you?”

Matt looked at him quizzically.

“Been wasting time?”

Matt nodded slowly, staring at the blanket

covering Kiernan’s solid chest. “I think I have. “I

think…when Brad was killed, I shut down. I’ve

never believed there was anything after death. I

don’t think I believed in anything anymore. Nothing

made sense to me.”

Kiernan turned his hand and caught Matt’s. He

linked their fingers.

“I kept everyone at a distance, thinking it would

keep me from feeling anything. Because if I didn’t

feel anything, then I couldn’t feel pain, either.”

Matt lifted his head to find Kiernan watching him

solemnly, large blue eyes steady. “But—I don’t

want to do that anymore.”

“You don’t,” Kiernan said carefully.

Matt shook his head slowly. “No. I want to feel

everything. The joy, the sorrow, all of it. Because

it’s a gift, and I don’t want to waste a moment.”

His heart began to pound. Now came the part that

terrified him. “And, I want to feel all of it—with

you. I’m…I know we haven’t known each other

very long, and I know our acquaintance has been

one round of weirdness after another—” Kiernan’s

lips quirked, “—but I’m pretty sure I’m in love

with you.” He spoke the last in a rush and held his

breath.

Kiernan’s smile faded. Matt felt his heart sink as

he studied him solemnly.

“Well, that’s a good thing,” Kiernan said finally.