Dear Emily (29 page)

“Let me get someone in to look after the kids and I’ll come up. Light some flares as you go along. It’s going to storm before long, Ivan. At the most it will take me forty minutes.”

“I’ll see you later,” Ivan said, breaking the connection.

Ivan thought about the few emergencies he’d had over the years at the retreat. For the most part, the guests never ventured far and there had been no serious problems. He liked this job, related to all the people who came to the retreat seeking comfort and solace. He himself had done the same thing years and years ago when his fiancée was killed in a car accident. Fifty now, unmarried, a lover of children and all animals, he worked virtually around the clock.

He liked Rosie Finneran, but then everyone liked Rosie. Once or twice he’d thought about asking her to take in a picture show, but he’d never acted on his thought. Now he was sorry. Rosie made him laugh. Rosie winked at him when she thought no one was looking. He never winked back and didn’t know why. Now he wished he had. Sometimes, though, Rosie didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain, but that was okay too. Sometimes he did stupid things too.

He thought about Emily Thorn and Matt Haliday. He knew Matt was interested in the lady from New Jersey. He tried to hide it, but wasn’t successful. He always asked what went on at the retreat when he was off duty. He’d start by mentioning the nuns and a few of the guests and then he’d hit on Rosie and Emily last. Ivan liked to see the sparkle in Matt’s eyes when he talked about Emily Thorn. Just last week Matt had carried an ice cream cone over to her and then sat with her and Rosie. He’d wanted to join them, but they all looked like they were having such a good time he didn’t want to intrude so he’d eaten his ice cream cone and left, taking a second one with him.

Ivan parked the jeep. He slung his backpack, which was as big as a bushel basket, over his shoulder and set off, his high beam flashlight lighting the way. His long-legged strides were awesome and thunder loud.

She was on the ground again, facedown, her foot caught in something. She tried to wiggle, to move, but the knifelike pain in her neck, shoulder, and arm took her breath away. She lay still, her face buried in pine needles and coarse earth. She sneezed again and again from the resin in the needles.

If she could just sleep, even if it was for just ten minutes. In her life she’d never been this tired, this ridden with pain.

“Get up, Emily. This is no time to go to sleep. If you’re too lazy to do it for yourself, think about your friend. She’s counting on you. Listen to me, Emily.”

“Why should I? I thought I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to a dead person. God’s going to punish you for tormenting me like this. Leave me alone.”

Emily struggled to get up on her knees as she balanced herself with her hand. She toppled forward, her face again mashing into the pine needles on the ground. “I hurt my knee and my ankle hurts,” she whimpered.

“Your friend hurts a whole lot more, Emily. Get your ass in gear and get up and do what you set out to do. That’s an order, Emily.”

“Damn you and your orders, Ian. What about me?”

“You aren’t important now, Emily. Your friend is important. If her appendix bursts, she’s gone and you know it. I’m a doctor. For once in your life, listen to me.”

“You
were
a doctor. Shut the hell up. I know…I don’t need you to tell me…I can’t see…I know I’m hopelessly lost. Help me to get up.”

“Do it yourself, Emily. I’m watching you.”

“Stop telling me what to do.” She was on her feet, listing to the right and then to the left, but she was upright. She reached out with her left foot, trying to find the stick she’d been carrying. She knew if she bent over she’d fall again. She stomped on the end and it bounced upright. She caught it. The prize at the end of the rainbow.

Thunder rolled across the sky, once, twice, three times, followed by dancing lightning that lit up the forest for a few brief seconds. “They let you do that?” Emily asked in awe. “How’d you do that, Ian?”

“Magic. Are you satisfied that you’re on the trail?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. How much further is it?”

“If I told you how far it is, you’d give up. If I told you were within sight of the retreat, you’d do something stupid like run into a tree. I don’t know how far it is. Just keep moving.”

“I know your game, you louse—you’re trying to make me mad. Ian, I am too tired to get mad. What you did to me was terrible. I did what I had to do. You didn’t even know me when I walked into your office. I’m the old Emily now.”

Lightning ripped across the sky, streak after streak until Emily thought she was watching a fire works display. By jamming the stick between two massive boulders, she was able to move forward, her injured arm hanging at her side as she dragged her bad leg. She was moving and that was all that mattered. “That was some show. What’d you do, wrinkle your nose or something?”

“Stop wasting your energy talking. You should have kept one of the flashlights and a flare. You’re doing good, Emily.”

Emily was so pleased with the compliment she tried to move faster, tried not to think about Rosie and Ian and his…spirit world. It was probably all a bad dream anyway. She vowed never to tell anyone about the conversations she was having with her dead husband.

More lightning danced across the sky. She saw it then and thought her heart was going to pound its way right out of her chest.
Sasquatch.
God, no. Al Roker with his Doppler radar gear on his back. A living nightmare. She gripped the stick in her hands and cried, out of fear, not for herself, but for Rosie. She was losing touch with reality and she knew it. What would the NBC weatherman be doing here in the Smoky Mountains? And if it was Al Roker, where the hell was that giddy Sue Simmons, the five o’clock news anchor? “Ian, help me, don’t leave me here with this…this
thing.
Ian, I swear I’ll…I’ll do something…good and kind…you can do it, use your powers, Ian. Don’t let me die.”

But there was no answer.

Then a light was in her face, blinding her. She shrank back as she tried to shield her eyes. “Mrs. Thorn.”

She recognized his deep, comforting voice. “Ivan,” she croaked. Her relief was so overwhelming she slid to the ground. It didn’t matter now if she could get up again or not.

“Jesus, God, what happened to you, Mrs. Thorn?”

“It’s Rosie. I left her…way back there, up there, somewhere. I tied bandages for a while to mark the trail. Then I ripped my socks and underwear until I ran out. Something’s wrong with Rosie’s appendix. I left her with the flashlights and the backpacks. It got dark and I got lost and…none of that’s important. I can’t tell you where she is. She’s up there. She was running a fever and she was in a lot of pain. You can get her, can’t you?”

“Of course. What about you? Is anything broken?”

“No, I’m just banged up. You can leave me here. Just get Rosie.”

“I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

“I was…I was…talking to myself. I think you should hurry, Ivan.”

Ivan was already on the mobile phone he carried in his oversize backpack. “Think, Mrs. Thorn, how far, how long did it take you to get here?”

“Hours, but I got lost, it got dark, I fell down a ravine, it was very slow-going for me. I think I’ve been walking for five, maybe six hours. I left the flares with Rosie and the flashlights. Maybe if you set one off, she’ll set hers off and you’ll get a sense of direction. You’re going to need a litter to carry her. I know you’re big, but I don’t know if you can bring her down by yourself.”

Ivan slapped the phone back into his pack. “Matt’s on his way. I’m going on ahead.”

Within minutes, Emily was surrounded by light from low-burning torches Ivan stuck in the ground. “Take good care of her, she’s sweet on you,” Emily said. Now, where did that come from, Emily wondered as she curled up on the mossy ground.

“Is she now?” Ivan said with a chuckle in his voice.

When Ivan was gone, Emily whispered, “Is it okay to go to sleep, Ian?” She knew there would be no response. She smiled as she cradled her head against her hands. An instant later she was sound asleep. Thunder and lightning ricocheted over and around her, the pelting rain doing its best to douse the torches Ivan had left for her. She woke hours later when she felt herself being picked up and carried a distance. She felt every bounce and jar as she was settled into Matt Haliday’s jeep.

“My God, Emily, you look…are you sure nothing’s broken?”

“Don’t even think about taking me to a hospital. All I need is a hot bath, some bandages and ointment, and maybe some TLC from the sisters. I think I probably look worse than I am. How’s Rosie?”

“Being operated on as we speak. It’s appendicitis. Ivan stayed at the hospital with her.”

“She kind of likes Ivan,” Emily said, trying to brace her injured shoulder against the door.

Matt laughed. “Ivan kind of likes her too. You did really well, Emily. For a tenderfoot.”

“I thought that was a cowboy term.”

“We use it a lot for people who aren’t experienced on the trail. You made it. I’ve seen, over the years, experienced men get hopelessly lost. We’ve had to send out search parties more than once. Rosie will be just fine, thanks to you.”

Emily clenched her teeth. “I had a little help. Actually, I had a lot of help.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Matt said quietly.

“That’s good, because I wasn’t about to share.”

“You really should have a doctor look you over, Emily. I’ll be more than happy to drive you to an all-night clinic if you don’t want to go to the hospital. I’d feel a lot better if you’d agree to go.”

“I’ve already had a doctor…I’m fine. The sisters will take good care of me. Gussie told me she would have been a vet if she hadn’t had a calling, as she put it. She loves patching up people. Talk to me, Matt, tell me about those nuns. They don’t seem…they are real, right?”

“There’s all kinds of stories. The one I think is closest to the truth is that they once belonged to an order of Benedictines. One of them, Cookie, I think, had a very rich relative who left all his money to her. He used to come here twice a year. The place fell on hard times and she bought it up, after she left the order. She’s quite modern, as are the others. They believe in divorce, birth control, think priests should be allowed to marry, and think there is a place for female priests. The Vatican didn’t see it their way so they left. The Black Mountain Retreat is their home and they’re the happiest bunch of women I’ve ever seen. Their habits are a design of their own. They still consider themselves nuns and they do lead a good life, ministering to one and all. I guess you could say they’re progressive renegades. I don’t personally know if this is true or not, but it’s been said that more than one person has mentioned them in their will. This place is very solvent, and as fast as they take in money, they put it back into the business. And it is a business. There’s a two-year waiting period for reservations for new guests.”

“That can’t be,” Emily said groggily. “I just called up and they took me right away.”

“Then you must be someone very special,” Matt said briskly. “It’s one rule they
don’t
break. I told you that first night only special people go to Archangel.”

In spite of herself, Emily felt pleased. She’d never, to her knowledge, been considered special. It must be because of Father Michael.

“What time is it, Matt?”

“Almost midnight. The sisters are waiting up for you. I radioed ahead. There might be news of Rosie when we get there.”

“I hope so.” A moment later Emily was asleep.

The sisters dithered and fretted when Matt carried Emily into the kitchen by way of the back door. He was shooed out almost immediately. “Any news of Rosie?” he called through the screendoor.

“Not yet. Let us know if you hear something.”

As one, they clucked their tongues like mother hens as they shepherded Emily into a huge bathroom.

“There’s no way we’re going to try and take your clothes off. They’re stuck to you with your own dried blood so we’re going to stand you under the warm water and let you remove them. Then we’ll take you into the Jacuzzi. A good belt of this plum brandy and a couple of aspirin will have you feeling better quickly. We’ll tape up your shoulder and ribs, patch up your knees and arms. You’ll be good as new in about a week,” Cookie said.

“Should we pour the peroxide over her while she has her clothes on or off?” Gussie asked as she removed the cap from a gallon jug.

“After,” Cookie said briskly. “I think we can all use a slug of that brandy. It’s going to be a long night.”

“I’ll get the glasses,” Phillie said happily. “This is so nice, being able to do something good for Father Michael’s friend. He’s going to be so pleased when we tell him.”

At four o’clock, when the nuns led Emily out to the porch where she was to sleep on the chaise lounge for the remainder of the night, she felt almost as good as new. She said so, quite happily.

“That’s because you’re drunk. One drink in the Jacuzzi is equal to four. Maybe it’s three. It has to do with the hot water. You had three glasses of brandy so that’s either nine or twelve drinks. Sleep well, dear Emily,” Gilly said, covering her with a light summer blanket.

“I
t’s hard to believe it’s been five whole days since Rosie’s operation,” Sister Cookie said as she held out a glass of lemonade to Emily. “It’s going to be so wonderful for you when you see her. What time is Matt picking you up?”

“In about twenty minutes. Sister, I came up here because I wanted to talk to you about something. Now look, I’m not of your faith so I don’t…what I mean is I believe in God and…you and the others always talk about miracles and…what makes a miracle?”

“God.”

“That night, something very strange happened to me. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to ever talk about it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. If you have a minute, I want to tell you a little about what happened up there on the trail.”

“I have as many minutes as you need, Emily. Now, take a deep breath and tell me.”

“I see,” Sister Cookie said when Emily had finished.

“Was it my subconscious or was it really Ian? I need to know, Sister. It was so real. I swear, Sister, on all that is holy, that he physically picked me up at one point. I felt…I felt him. Now, am I crazy or did that happen?”

“I don’t know, Emily. If I were you, I think I would want to believe the Almighty’s hand was on your shoulder. In this case, Ian’s hand if he was one of God’s Messengers. God takes care of us, Emily. All you have to do is ask and He’s there for you. You needed Him. For you, it was Ian. Believe that and hold on to it. It could have happened, and I for one would classify that as a miracle, but then I’m one of those renegade nuns everyone talks about. It could have been your subconscious at work too. If it’s important for you to believe it was Ian, then there are two of us who believe it. You and me. Ian came through for you when you really needed him. It doesn’t matter how or why. He did. And that alone, Emily, should erase a lot of the bad that has shackled you for so long.”

“I tried calling him back, but he didn’t respond. He’s gone forever now, isn’t he, Sister?”

“Maybe he’s going to be your Guardian Angel,” Cookie said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Now that’s a hoot,” Emily replied. “Thanks for talking to me, Sister. Thanks for believing with me. I do, you know.”

“Isn’t it a wonderful feeling?”

“I woke up with a smile these past days. I feel lighter, buoyant somehow. Is that crazy or what?”

“Not at all. Was there a song in your heart?”

“Not really.”

“There will be. I hear Matt’s jeep. Don’t forget the basket for Rosie and give her our love.”

“I will.”

“Matt Haliday is a fine man,” Cookie said slyly.

Matt looked fit, clean-shaven, slicked-down hair, clean khakis, polished loafers, and he smells good too, Emily thought as she settled herself.

“How are you feeling?”

He sounds like he cares. “Still a little stiff if I sit too long. I have lots and lots of scabs; that’s why I’m wearing long sleeves. Makeup can’t cover my facial abrasions, but I can live with them. I have to thank Ivan. What if he hadn’t decided to go up on the trail? I could still be wandering around. You too, Matt. I wanted to call you, but…I didn’t.”

“You can call me anytime, Emily. My home phone number is on the bulletin board. That’s why we’re here. It’s our job to look after the guests and to do our best to keep the forests safe. I hear Rosie is ready to come home, but she’s running a slight fever. Maybe tomorrow. Do you know why she didn’t want her children called?”

“I guess she didn’t want to worry them. Mothers are like that.”

“But…”

“I’m sure one of the sisters would have called if things…went from bad to serious. What do you do on your days off besides drive guests around?”

“Usually just hang out. Cook a roast. I like to cook. I do some gardening, take the kids places. They went with friends on an overnight camping trip so I’m at loose ends. Listen, would you like to have dinner with me? I made a pot of spaghetti earlier. I even used some sun-dried tomatoes. I know how to make garlic bread and I’ve got some real good beer to wash it all down with.”

“I’d like that, Matt.”

Matt stared at her and then back at the road. For some strange reason she felt comfortable with this man. There was no fear, no anxiety. It seemed as if she’d known him for a long time.

“You look pretty spiffy.”

“Me?”

“Yep, you.” God, why had she said that?

“Am I supposed to say you look spiffy too?”

Emily laughed. “It would be nice. Clotheswise, that is. Forget the flesh with all the scratches and scabs. I just hope I don’t scare Rosie.” He had seven freckles marching across the bridge of his nose that were still easy to see with his deep tan. She felt a smile work its way around her mouth.

“Emily, would you like to talk about your hours on the trail? I’m a good listener if you do.”

Emily thought about the question. Anything less than an honest answer to this new friend—and he was a friend—would have been cheating. “No. Maybe sometime, but not now.”

“Okay. Yeah, you look spiffy, too,” he said with a wry grin.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She was flirting and he was flirting back. At their ages. A silly grin attached itself to her face.

“Do you like horror flicks?”

Emily shrugged. “Why?”

“I thought if you didn’t have to go right back after dinner we could watch one. The sisters have them by the bushel. My son likes to watch them so Gussie loans them to me. I cannot get used to the idea that those gentle souls like that stuff. Chain-saw murders, decapitations, the gorier the better. They read that stuff too. You know that and then you see them kneeling, saying their rosaries. It doesn’t compute.”

“They’re human like the rest of us. I don’t understand all that much about priests and nuns, but it seems unnatural for them to give up everything from the outside world. Not only unnatural, but unfair. They can still do all their good works and keep that part of themselves that belongs to the outside world. That’s only my opinion,” she added hastily.

“Are we talking about sex here or the blood and guts movies and books?” Matt asked, his eyes on the road straight ahead.

“Everything. I wouldn’t want to give up sex, would you? I kind of like it. What I mean is…oh, Lord, I don’t believe I said that.” Emily blushed.

Matt guffawed. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say it.”

“Why don’t we talk about something else? What do you put in your sauce?”

Still laughing, Matt explained. “Tomatoes, paste, a little oil, oregano, some pork neck bones. I cook it for seven hours.”

“Why?” Emily asked, perplexed.

“It gets thicker. I hate watery sauce. Am I doing it wrong?”

“I don’t know. I only cook mine for three hours. It tastes pretty good to me. Doesn’t it get bitter?”

“Maybe that’s why the kids like to eat at their friends’ houses. Well, you can tell me tonight. It’ll be cooking seven hours by the time we get home.”

“It must be hard for you to be both mother and father to your children. How do you do it with all the hours you put in?”

“In the beginning it was hard. The neighbors helped. The sisters did their share and Ivan plays at being an uncle. They adore him as well as the sisters. The kids cooperated all the way. Gradually things got easier. We have a routine and we all try to stick to it. Everyone has chores. In the beginning I…didn’t handle it very well. You know, Why me, why did this have to happen to me, that kind of thing? The sisters worked me through that. It seems like a very long time ago.”

He sounds, Emily thought, like he’s still in love with his wife. The smile left her face.

“We’re here. There’s Ivan’s four by four.” He winked at Emily, who stared at him blankly.

“Is something wrong, Emily?”

“No. I started to think about Rosie. Remembering.” She reached behind her for the picnic basket.

“Here, let me carry that.”

“I can carry it,” Emily said tightly.

“I know you can. I was trying to be a gentleman about it. If you’re one of those uptight females, that’s okay with me.” There was laughter in his voice that Emily ignored.

She was miffed and it was silly and stupid of her. Why shouldn’t he still be in love with his wife? He’d obviously had a good marriage, and when it ended, he grieved. Like I did, only I didn’t have a good marriage. He has children, constant reminders of his wife. Open your heart, Emily, and be generous of spirit, she scolded herself.

She liked him. A lot. It was going to be a problem for her if she didn’t…do what? She was jumping ahead of herself here. So far he’d expressed no serious interest in her. So what if he invited her for dinner and then asked her to stay and watch a movie? So what? Lots of people did things like that and it didn’t mean a thing. Friendships were made up of little encounters like this. She was hardly in a position to expect more. She’d only known the man for a few short weeks.

“Here,” she said, handing over the picnic basket. Matt reached out and took it from her, his hand touching hers. She felt a tingle race up her arm. “I’m used to doing everything for myself. It’s nice when someone offers to help. I find it…very difficult to…to ask. I’m not referring to the picnic basket…well, yes, in a way I am.”

Matt wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and said, “Whew, I’m glad we settled
that.
For a minute there I thought maybe we’d come to blows.”

Emily giggled at his lopsided grin. A sense of humor, a prime requisite for a prime friendship that might, just might, turn into something more.

In the elevator, Emily tried not to stare at her companion. She was aware of the closeness of him, the very cleanness of him. She loved khakis, loved uniforms of any kind. She thought about Ian’s white lab coats, his white shirts, and then she thought about Ben and the sweat suits he wore all the time. Damn, she didn’t want to think about Ben, not when she was in the company of someone like Matt.

“I’ll buy you an ice cream cone if you tell me what you’re thinking right this minute,” Matt said.

“I was thinking about how creased and pressed you look,” Emily lied. “What were you thinking about at the same moment?”

“I was thinking maybe I should kiss you right here in this elevator.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t pay to think. Sometimes it pays to act on what one thinks,” Emily said boldly.

“Uh-huh,” Matt said, setting the picnic basket down on the floor.

He drew his arms around her, holding her close to him. She realized how tall he was, towering over her, lifting her chin with the tips of his fingers to look down into her eyes. His lips, when they touched hers, were soft, giving as well as taking, gently persuading her to respond. His arm cradling her against him was firm and strong, but his fingers still touching her face were tender, trailing whispery shadows over her bruised cheekbones. Having him kiss her seemed to be the most natural beginning to their new friendship. It was just that. A kiss. A tender gesture, tempting an answer but demanding none.

Matt stepped back, his gaze locked with hers. “I’m too old to play emotional games,” he said. “Seventeen-year-olds do that and I’m a far cry from seventeen. Besides, more often than not they hurt rather than give pleasure. I like you, Emily. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Emily’s heart thumped. She nodded. “I’d like to get to know you better too. Maybe when you see me eating spaghetti, you’ll change your mind. I tend to drip it down my shirt. Usually I wear something red when I’m going Italian.”

“So I’ll give you a bib. I’m fifty-five, Emily.” He looked away for a moment as he waited for her response.

Emily laughed. “If that’s a hint for me to declare my age, think again. Everyone knows the second half of one’s life is supposed to be the best.”

“I heard that too. Guess we’ll just have to see if we can prove it. I already know how old you are. I tricked Sister Phillie into letting me see your reservation. Date of birth, etc, etc, etc.”

Emily flushed. He’d looked up her reservation. That meant serious interest on his part. She herself had asked questions about Matt Haliday, which meant she, too, was interested. Chemistry.

“The elevator door’s been open for a while,” she said. “We should probably get off.”

“I noticed that.” Matt laughed. “We could ride down again and then ride up and do the same thing all over again. Want to?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Emily said, backing farther into the elevator.

His arms were around her the moment the door closed. This time the kiss lasted longer, but was just as sweet and tender as the first time. He was still kissing her when the elevator rose. When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, Matt relaxed his hold on her. “Damn good thing it stopped. I was seriously thinking about sex in an elevator.”

Emily gurgled with laughter. “I was too.”

“Ahhhh,”
was all he could say.

Emily followed Matt down the corridor to Rosie’s room. She winked at Rosie and gave her head a slight nod. Rosie smiled from ear to ear.

“You just missed Ivan.”

“Good thing,” Matt said. “Otherwise there would be nothing left in this basket for you. The sisters, according to Emily here, packed everything you love. How’s the food here?”

“Terrible. Emily, how are you?” Rosie asked with such concern that Emily felt tears prick her eyelids.

“I guess I do look like five miles of used road. Actually, I feel pretty good. My joints don’t feel as stiff as they did. The bruising is fading and so is the swelling. A lot of the scabs are starting to itch so I guess that means I’m healing. You look great; how do you feel?”

“Fine. I’m walking better. I thought an appendectomy was a piece of cake, but it isn’t. I’m running a slight fever. If it goes down, I can go home tomorrow. Ivan said he’d pick me up and drive me back. He’s been coming by every day. He said he feels responsible for me since he carried me down the mountain. You saved my life, Emily. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long. God, Rosie, when it got dark, I thought for sure we were both done for. We both made it thanks to Ivan and…and a friend. Let’s not think negative thoughts. Everything happens for a reason. You can just forget that repayment business too. Not another word, Rosie.”