Beginning with You (31 page)

Logan leaned over, placing his hand on her hair. “Jim is in serious condition, but he’s going to make it, Rook. He’s just two rooms down from you, still in recovery. Jim’s father is here, too. I’m sure he’ll want to see both of you.”

Relief surged through Rook. She shut her eyes, taking in a jerky breath of air. Reopening them, she stared darkly into Gil’s shadowed features. His mouth had become a thin line, like it always did when something was wrong. Rook recog nized that set look. She felt Gil’s hand become firmer on hers.

Taking in a deep breath, Gil bit down on his lower lip, unable to stop the awful pain surging up through his chest. “Noah made it, too, Rook. But he’s critical and they just put him in ICU. We’re sorry—so damn sorry. He’s a hell of a man. Special—like you….”

A rasping cry tore from Rook. She tried to sit up but was too weak. She fell back down on the pillow, wild cries tearing from the very reaches of her soul. “No! It can’t be, Gil! I need to see him….”

Tag winced as he leaned over to stroke Rook’s hair, and whispered, “Hush, honey, it’s all right. He loves you—that’s all that counts. You two got to patch up things between you. That was important….” And he hoped Noah didn’t die. No one was sure if he’d make it or not, but he didn’t want to steal Rook’s hope that her brother would survive.

Gil was unable to remain impervious to Rook’s anguished weeping. He straightened up, tears burning in his eyes and looked over at Tag. There were tears in his eyes, too. “Take care of her for a minute,” he ordered thickly, and then spun around, heading for the door. Goddamn this rotten little world anyway! He jerked the door open and began to walk blindly and aimlessly down the hall. Everything blurred in front of Gil, and he slowed his pace. Stumbling to a halt, reeling with weariness, Gil sank against a wall and buried his face in his hands.

It was three days before Rook got to see Noah. Jim Barton wheeled her to his private room. Her heart pounded with urgency as Jim pushed open the door and wheeled her in.

Anxiously, Rook looked toward the bed. Noah’s eyes barely opened.

“Hey…Sis….”

Tears jammed in Rook’s eyes as Jim brought her wheelchair over to his bed. He set the brake. Placing his hand on Rook’s tense shoulder, he said, “Noah? You two need some time together. I’ll drop back by in about twenty minutes or so.” Jim could see the paleness to Noah’s face.

“Yes, thanks Jim,” Noah managed, his voice hoarse.

Jim leaned down and kissed Rook’s temple. “See you in a bit….”

Rook looked up at him. “Thanks….”

The door closed and Rook reached out, her fingers gentle around Noah’s lower arm. “How are you doing?”

He managed a twisted smile. “Could be better. And you?”

“Better than you, that’s for sure.” Rook wiped her eyes, her fingers trembling. Clinging to Noah’s cloudy gaze, she whispered, “I thought I’d lost you, Noah. God….”

His hands had second-and third-degree burns on them, and as much as he wanted to reach out and touch Rook, sooth her anxiety and grief, he couldn’t. “I’m too mean to die,” he joked. And then, he frowned, holding her lustrous eyes shining with love for him. “I love you, Rook. I always have. I’ve never not loved you.” His voice cracked. “On that ferry, all I kept thinking about was surviving this…getting back to you…making us a family again….”

Sobbing, Rook stood up on weak legs, her blue bathrobe falling to her knees as she moved to his bed. She leaned over, pressing a kiss to Noah’s bristly cheek. He hadn’t shaved in three days and it made him look gaunt. “I’m so glad you made it,” she said, her voice strained. Easing back, she smiled into his eyes. Noah was on serious morphine and she could see it. “You’re my brother. You hold my heart, Noah.” She moved her hand tenderly across his brow. “We’re going to get through this. I can hardly wait until you can be well. There’s so much we can do together. There’s so much time we have to make up.”

Noah gave her a lazy smile, closing his eyes, absorbing her warm touch. “I like happy endings, Sis. We’re going to be tighter than fleas from now on….”

A crisp November breeze blew across the tarmac outside the hangar. Jim had been released from the hospital two weeks ago and was recovering nicely. Rook was still pale and gaunt.

The ceremony honoring the many people who had helped in the
Flyer
disaster was over. Jim heard Captain Stuart dismiss the two hundred and fifty Coast Guard personnel who were attired in their blue dress uniforms. The ranks that had stood at attention on the tarmac relaxed and began to break up into smaller groups. Reviewing stands, brought in days earlier to line the adjacent area, were now filled to overflowing, with five thousand people in attendance. The 13th District Coast Guard band struck up another patriotic tune. Jim eyed the reporters who raced toward the small cluster of people who had just been awarded medals. His only concern was for Rook.

“Come on,” Jim urged, taking her by the arm and pointing her toward the parking lot. Admiral Savage and even the Commandant of the Coast Guard were present. It was a political field day for all the high-ranking officers of the district who had been involved in the
Flyer
rescue. Their career advancement was assured. Jim didn’t care about that. All he wanted to do was protect Rook from the hungry hordes of reporters and get her away from the air station. Ever since the disaster, the press had been hounding her for an interview. She had refused, too grief-stricken over Noah’s injuries. He was still in the hospital. The good news: he would recover in time. Noah had one hell of a career before him in the Coast Guard. Rook’s worry for her brother was always on her mind. She spent every day she could in Seattle to be at his bedside. Rook fed Noah strength. Their love had sustained them and would in the future as Noah recovered.

Senator Rufford and his daughter had made peace with Rook earlier, and today she appeared to receive her DFC medal, as well as Noah’s medal. Ward was going to fly over with Rook afterward and pin it on Noah’s pillow. No one deserved it more than Noah. And although Rook knew Jim had been up on that ferry roof with her brother, he wouldn’t be receiving a military medal. And he didn’t want one, satisfied that saving lives was a medal in and of itself.

They wove through knots of people, trying to dodge the reporters. Let Annie and Dave field their questions. Jim tried to nod, to appear pleasant as they received murmurs of “thank you” and “you were all wonderful,” along with pats on the back. He perused Rook’s features, his heart wrenching.

So much had happened since the disaster—so much. He saw Rook clutch the DFC medals in her fist, her mouth stretched in pain. He coaxed her to his Corvette and opened the door.

Rook laid her head back, barely controlling the tears that wanted to fall. When Jim slid into the driver’s seat, she whispered, “Take me to the cemetery, will you?”

Frowning, Jim hesitated and then nodded. He started the car and carefully backed out. Air Station Port Angeles was crowded to the maximum with visitors. All he wanted to do was escape.

A fresh breeze blew through the car window, drying some of the perspiration on Rook’s face. She didn’t see the colorful fall splendor, the dazzling sunlight or the intense dark blue of the sky. Reaching out, she sought and found Jim’s right hand. His fingers were damp and cool, like her own. She turned her head, studying his tension-lined profile.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Better than you.” Jim glanced at Rook. “You were weaving around at attention. I didn’t know if you were going to make it through that damn ceremony.”

“It was too long.” The words came out bitter.

“It was a dog and pony show,” he agreed.

“It really wasn’t that bad. Captain Stuart went to great efforts to keep the presentation of the medals simple and quick. It was the admiral and his bunch that turned it into a sideshow.”

Jim squeezed her hand gently. “I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I felt like I was suffocating.”

“Me, too.” Rook managed a sad smile. “At least Annie, Dave Harper and the crewmen got medals, too. They all deserved them.”

“Yeah,” he whispered tiredly. “A few good things came out of it. That disaster sealed Annie and Dave’s relationship.”

“That was the only good thing.” Rook looked out over the straits. Today, the water was a marine blue, with sunlight dancing off the gentle swells. How much the sea knew and kept to herself, she mused. “Somewhere down there at the bottom of the straits are twenty people,” she murmured. “People who will never be found.”

“Yeah. I felt especially sorry for Captain Stuart. They never did recover Kenny’s body.”

Rook stared up at the roof of the car. “He was hit hard.”

Jim’s voice lowered. “So were you.”

The reference to Noah sent a veil of tears to Rook’s eyes. Automatically, she reached in her pocket where she always carried tissues. Blotting her eyes, she mumbled, “I’ve never cried so much, Jim—ever. Now, that’s all I can do. He was injured so badly. He’s the real hero in all of this. I-I’m so proud of him. I love him so much….”

“It’s only been two and half months,” Jim said gently, dividing his attention between Rook and driving up the twisting, turning road.

“I-—I know.” She sniffed and blew her nose, clutching the tissue between her fingers. “I’ll be at my desk, working on some PR releases, and all of a sudden I’ll start sobbing. My mind won’t even be on Noah. I—I don’t understand it….”

“Your heart’s on him, Rook.”

She looked at Jim through the blur of her tears. “I don’t know what I’d have done if Noah died. My whole family is gone except for him.”

“Noah’s survived. He’s coming back from those burn injuries. And in another two weeks, he’ll be back here, with you. And—” he gave her a tender look “—we have each other. And that’s something,” Jim told her quietly. His head was aching like a reverberating drum through his skull. The doctors had told him he’d probably have headaches for at least a year after receiving the concus sion—maybe two He’d suffered a TBI, traumatic brain injury, a mild form of it.

Jim redirected his attention to Rook. He ached to lift her out of her roller-coaster emotional state, but didn’t know how. It was better she was able to cry and vent. In time, Jim knew it would pass. All of it was a reaction to the fire on the ferry. Most of it, however, Jim knew, was Rook being terrified of losing her only brother. He wondered what would have happened if Noah hadn’t survived. What kind of permanent, terrible damage would it have caused Rook? Now that she’d found her brother, the love they had was nothing short of wonderful. For both of them. And Jim saw the powerful healing going on between them because of the disaster.

“I talked to Captain Stuart just before the ceremony,” he told Rook. “He’s approved an additional two months of convalescence for you, plus thirty days of leave.” Jim gave her a hopeful look. “It will give you three months to heal, Rook—really heal. And you’ll be at Noah’s side, helping him to recover, too.”

Rook responded strongly to Jim’s care and quiet, steady presence in her life. Since the ferry disaster, they had become emotionally inseparable. She’d had to remain in the hospital for a time. Still, it didn’t stop them from visiting with each other and having long, and sometimes painful, talks. She clung to Jim’s strong, steady hand wrapped around hers. Sometimes, their talks were a natural high for both of them. This relationship gave strength and support to her life. Jim had provided a way for her when she felt utterly lost about Noah’s condition.

“I’ve got plans for us, you know,” Jim teased lightly, trying to raise her spirits. Rook’s smile was wobbly, but it was there as she met his blue gaze.

“I knew you were plotting and planning away in that hospital room of yours. Even your dad was complaining that you were running the company from that bed.”

He laughed softly. “I was bored, Rook. You only visited me at night, and I had all day on my hands. Sure, I have plans for us. The company paperwork kept me from going completely stir-crazy in that place.”

Rook managed a strained smile. “Just what kind of plans have you got for me, Jim Barton? You’ve been awful secretive about them.”

He raised her hand, kissing the back of it. Her flesh was cool to his touch. “I’ll tell you in a little while,” he promised.

The cemetery, located on top of a hill overlooking Port Angeles and the straits, came into view. Jim slowed and guided the Corvette into the well-kept area. Glancing over at Rook, he saw her eyes go dark with pain, with remembrance. Following a narrower asphalt road, they drove to the crest. The sycamore and elm trees that were scattered throughout the cemetery were now bleak, their branches bare, awaiting the coming winter.

Rook sat there, staring at a large, new headstone to her right. It was the exact shape and size as all the rest—only the name identified it. The car came to a stop, and she felt Jim’s arm come around her shoulders. It was a commemorative headstone listing the names of all the people who died on the ferry. “Okay?” he whispered.

Tears jammed into her eyes and her fingers closed around her medal. “Yeah….” Rook sniffed and looked over at Jim. “W-will you come with me?”

“Sure.”

As they got out, Rook noticed the sunlight lancing through the naked, upraised arms of the elm above the
Flyer
grave. Jim placed his arm around her, drawing her close, and she trembled. He walked with her on the springy, manicured grass. He took a deep breath, feeling her pain and loss for those who hadn’t made it.

Rook knelt down by the headstone, staring at it through her tears for a long time. Above them, a seagull cried, the sound lonely, serrating. The wind was cool, drying the tears as they streamed down her cheeks. She opened her fingers, her medal gleaming in the sunlight.

“Noah knew his chances when he went up on that roof,” Rook began hoarsely.

Jim walked to the other side, kneeling down opposite her. “I know he did.”

A sob tremored through Rook. “And the one man who would think the least of medals isn’t here to receive his. I know we’re flying over with Captain Stuart to give it to Noah later today, but these people who died were heroic, too.”

He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “They were all special,” he agreed softly.

“I want to honor them. Their deaths aren’t for nothing.” Rook pressed her hand against her tightly shut eyes. Taking a breath, she placed her medal on top of the gravestone. Saying a silent prayer, Rook slowly got to her feet.

Jim slid his arm around her. He felt Rook sigh.

“What?” he asked, seeing her face pensive.

“That day Noah came over to my apartment with those letters…I felt as if someone had chopped my heart up after I read them. When I went to ask his forgiveness and start all over, Noah pretended as if it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do.” Rook hadn’t cried much since the disaster. Now, she suddenly sobbed, tears running between her fingers and plopping on the grave below. “A-and now I know why. Noah had always loved Mom and me. When you love your family that much, it’s easy to forgive them.”

“He loves you, Rook,” Jim rasped, and reached across the grave to grip her slumped shoulder. “He loved you with his life and proved it. The good news is he’s alive and you two are going to have a wonderful relationship with each other now, for the rest of your lives.”

Rook sobbed hard. Struggling to control the gamut of unleashed emotions, she finally succeeded. Raising her chin, she met and held Jim’s suffering gaze. “You know the worst of it, Jim?”

He shook his head. “No, tell me.”

“I-I never told him I loved him before the disaster!” Rook cried hoarsely, and she bent double, burying her face in her hands.

Jim gently gathered Rook into his arms. She came, burying her tear-stained face against his suit, her arms wrapped tightly around him. He held Rook and rocked her, stroking her hair and whispering words he hoped would help. Words were so useless sometimes, Jim thought, tears squeezing from beneath his closed eyes.

“Sshh, Rook, it’s all right,” he crooned. “The good news is, you got to tell him to his face as soon as he became conscious in ICU.” Jim smiled a little and kissed her damp cheek. “Besides, I think I know Noah well enough now to say that he could tell by the look in your eyes, your laughter, that you love him.” Jim pressed his mouth to her temple, kissing her. “Don’t tear yourself up over that, sweetheart. Please don’t…he knows you love him now. That’s good enough.” In fact, Jim knew that after Rook shared that she loved her brother, he’d seen Noah rally and get better faster as a result. Rook had an amazing influence on her older brother. Love would do that, Jim thought. It always did.

Three white gulls with black-tipped wings sailed overhead, crying out forlornly. Jim had no idea how long he held Rook. Time didn’t matter, anyway. Gradually, her sobs lessened, and so did her trembling. Jim continued to stroke her hair, holding her tight against him, trying to take away her pain from the disaster. She clung mutely to him, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest. Gradually, Rook’s heartbeat slowed.

“We’re all so fragile,” he whispered, looking down at her. “Love makes us fragile, Rook, but it also makes us strong in ways that we’d never be, otherwise. You’ve had such a rough life, and you thought no one loved or cared for you except your mother.” Jim managed a faint smile, pressing a final kiss to her hair. “Noah was happy because you buried the past between the two of you. You had the chance to right the wrong done to all of you. I know he’s happy about that, Rook. I think it’s aiding him in healing.”

Rook barely moved her head, wanting, needing Jim’s strength right now. His arms felt good around her. She could hear the heavy, steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. There was no more strength left in her; she’d hit bottom emotionally. What would she have done if Jim hadn’t been here? Slowly, Rook pulled out of his arms and looked up at him. She saw anguish in his dark blue eyes. Jim was suffering no less than she, and that revelation shattered another wall that she’d built around her heart to protect herself a long time ago.

Rook opened her hand to show Jim the medal for her brother that would be given to him this afternoon. “Noah deserves this.”