Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family] (20 page)

Christina was determined that
this time
things would be different. In desperation, she grabbed Holden by his right arm; immediately, she felt him try to pull away, but she held firm, straining to keep him in front of her.

“Holden, look at me,” she said as calmly as she could, wanting him to fixate on her instead of his arm. When he still wouldn’t do as she asked, fighting against her, she repeated herself, a bit louder: “Look at me!”

Holden’s eyes were as skittish as those of a cornered animal whose only thought was to flee as fast as it could. But somehow, the harshness of her voice cut through his fear and he focused on her, just as she’d asked.

“I want you to do as I tell you,” Christina said softly.

“But-but I-I-I can-can’t—”

“Don’t say ‘can’t,’” she quieted him. “Don’t say a word. Listen to the sound of my voice. If you can do that, I swear everything will be all right.”

At the same time Christina was trying to project herself as confident, inside she was struggling to control her emotions. None of the various treatments she’d witnessed at the Army hospital seemed exactly the right course of action; she knew Holden would only be reachable for an instant and that she had to help him as quickly as she could.

“Don’t think about your arm,” she kept talking. “Just concentrate on me, nothing else.”

Though he was obviously struggling, it was clear Holden was trying his best to do as she asked.

“Take deep breaths,” Christina encouraged him. “Breathe in, then let it out slowly, slowly; relax; don’t think about it.” She did it along with him, breathing in unison. With every breath, Holden was improving, the tension easing from his shoulders, and the shaking of his arm subsided. Finally, all was as it had been, the two of them smiling at each other, thrilled that a crisis had been averted.

“I…I’ve…never been able to stop one before,” he marveled.

“I knew that you could do it!”

“It’s all…all because of you…”

Christina laughed. “All I did was show you the way,” she smiled, “but you were the one who did all of the work.”

“Maybe…maybe you’re right…” He smiled, his eyes as bright as the rising sun. “Maybe I
can
get better…”

Listening to Holden, Christina was so happy for him that tears sprang to her eyes. This was the breakthrough she’d been hoping for; she
knew
it was! While there was still much work to be done, he now knew that he could overcome whatever obstacles remained.

“I’m happy for you. You can beat this thing.”

Before Christina could say another word, Holden leaned forward and kissed her; she was so surprised that she gasped. Though she tried to move backward, his hand found her hip and held her close. But what happened next shocked her more than she thought possible; she stopped trying to resist. For a moment, she allowed herself to melt into Holden’s arms, returning his passionate kiss.

But then, just as quickly as Christina had given in to her impulses, the feeling passed and she thought of Tyler; she could only imagine how upset he would be if he could see what she was doing with his brother.

Putting her hands against Holden’s chest, Christina firmly pushed herself away. He looked down at her imploringly; she knew he wanted nothing more than to return to their embrace, to their kiss. For her part, all Christina could do was cry.

Tyler had been right all along.

“Christina,” Holden said, holding out his hand to her. “I didn’t mean to upset you…I would never want to cause you any pain…”

“Just…just don’t…,” she sobbed.

“All I wanted was to thank you for all you’ve done, to let you know how much you mean to me.”

But Christina couldn’t bear to hear another word. She’d made such a mistake, such a terrible mistake.

This time, it was her turn to run away.

C
HRISTINA WALKED IN A
DAZE
. She felt dizzy, sick to her stomach, and weak in the knees all at the same time. For a while, she’d considered calling the doctor and lying, telling him she was sick and wouldn’t be coming to work, but she’d changed her mind; hiding in her apartment wasn’t going to make
anything
better.

From the moment she’d raced away from Holden, just as the morning sun was coloring the eastern horizon in brilliant shades of pink and purple, she’d been unable to think of anything other than the moment they’d kissed. Up until then, she’d been so excited that he’d suppressed his tremors, so happy he was finally getting better, that she would never have expected him to do something as brazen as kiss her.

But he had, and that had upset her whole life…

At the same time, Christina knew it wasn’t fair to place all the blame on Holden. She
had
kissed him back. It hadn’t been for long, but there was no denying she’d given in to her urges, meeting his passion with her own. For a brief moment, she’d enjoyed it.

But why…why did I do it…?

There was no denying she found Holden attractive. He was smart, interesting, and could make her laugh. She also felt close to him because he’d confided in her the reason for his tremors. Given time, she was sure the bond between them would grow.

What stood in the way was Tyler. Christina’s attraction to him had led to their kiss beneath the stars, something she definitely didn’t regret. While he had his share of flaws, there was more to him than she had expected. That he’d opened himself up to her, sharing both his beehives and his feelings toward Holden, made her wonder what other things Tyler would reveal to her. They were building a relationship, something to be treasured, not betrayed.

She was caught between two brothers.

Christina arrived at the clinic without any answers to her problems. There was no choice but to put her worry aside until later; she had responsibilities that wouldn’t wait. She could only hope the day would be without turmoil. But just inside the door, she realized her hopes were about to be dashed.

Dr. Barlow raced down the hallway from his office and into the waiting room. He was clearly distressed. Out of breath, he was stuffing things into his medical bag.

“Come on!” he shouted to her. “We have to go!”

Without waiting, Dr. Barlow ran back down the hall, banging open the door to the alley. Moments later, Christina heard the coupe’s engine roar to life.

“What’s going on?” she asked Callie as she headed after him, confused.

“Oh, sweetie,” Callie answered. “I’m afraid it’s Eunice Hester. We just got a call. It doesn’t look good…”

“Couldn’t…couldn’t it be the same as before…?”

Callie’s eyes grew wet. “Not this time,” she answered solemnly.

Christina stood beside Dr. Barlow in Eunice Hester’s bedroom. Neither of them said a word. Eunice lay peacefully on the bed before them, almost certainly having died in her sleep. Her hands had been crossed at her chest, a sheet pulled up to her elbows. Out in the hallway, a woman sat in a chair and sobbed without interruption, mourning her loss. Occasionally, Christina wiped her own eyes.

There hadn’t been anything they could’ve done; by the time they’d arrived, Eunice had been dead for hours. Her grieving friend had discovered Eunice when she hadn’t come down for breakfast. She didn’t appear to have suffered. If Christina looked closely, she could almost see a smile at the corners of the older woman’s mouth. Once she had left this life, there was little reason to doubt that she was happy in the next, once again at the side of her beloved husband.

But she’d left a void behind.

Even Christina, who hadn’t had the pleasure of knowing Eunice for long, missed her. Though she’d been eccentric and had enjoyed provoking those she cared for, Eunice embodied many of the attributes Christina wanted for herself. Fiercely independent, possessed of a sharp wit, ready to travel the world at a moment’s notice, Eunice had been a woman who ardently went after what she wanted, including love.

Christina wondered what Eunice would’ve thought of the mess she now found herself in.

For Dr. Barlow, the loss seemed particularly strong. Though he’d driven recklessly out of Longstock like a man possessed and then dashed up the stairs of Eunice’s house so quickly that it left him wheezing at the effort, he now stood frozen in place, his face pained. He’d undoubtedly seen hundreds of bodies in his time in the Army and even over the decades as a small-town doctor, but it wasn’t always as personal for him as it was now.

“Are you all right?” Christina asked him.

“We may’ve enjoyed giving each other a hard time,” he answered without looking at her, “but I really cared for that old bird.”

Christina smiled. “I’m sure she knew it.”

“I reckon that over the dozens of times I came out here for one illness or another I somehow convinced myself Eunice would
never
pass, that she’d be around longer than those damn gargoyles.”

“She was almost ninety years old.”

“You’d think that’d make it easier,” Dr. Barlow glanced at her, “but somehow I don’t feel any better.” Frowning, he fished a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. “They say a doctor shouldn’t get emotionally involved with his patients, that it only complicates things.”

“We both know that’s easier said than done.”

He nodded gravely, appreciating that she agreed with him. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and was just about to strike a match when he suddenly stopped.

“I need to smoke this in the worst way,” the doctor explained, “but if I were to do it in her house, I know Eunice’s ghost would haunt me for the rest of my days. If I go out on the porch, I imagine she’d appreciate my thoughtfulness. That way, I could keep an eye out for the sheriff and the hearse that’ll take her body back to town. Would you care to join me?”

Christina nodded toward the woman still sobbing in the hall. “Will she be okay alone?”

“She’s upset, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” Dr. Barlow explained. “Besides, I think it’s time we talked about some things.” Glancing over where Eunice lay, he added, “Before it’s too late.”

Dr. Barlow took a deep drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke off the porch, watching as it slowly drifted across Eunice’s yard. Christina sat on a chair beside an ornate coffee table, its dark wood scoured in strange carvings, waiting for him to say something.

Though there were things about the doctor that Christina desperately wanted to know, she felt she didn’t need any more drama in her life. Just trying to come to grips with what had happened with Holden was nearly enough to make her want to lock herself in her apartment. But Dr. Barlow’s problems intrigued her. From the moment she’d first discovered him under the effects of morphine, her assumptions about his normal life had been irreversibly shattered. On top of that, there’d been the encounter with the dangerous-looking stranger in town.

Is it possible that these two things, two
secrets
, are related?

“You told me you wanted to know why I took morphine,” Dr. Barlow began.

“I do,” she answered.

The doctor nodded. “My problem goes back to the Great War,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. “When I went off to fight, I had so many expectations. I was excited and frightened out of my wits, often at the same time. It didn’t take too long for me to understand that the only important thing was that I came home alive. What I never would’ve expected was that
living
with what I’d witnessed would be worse than being buried in all that mud.”

Dr. Barlow held his hands out before him, palms raised upwards, staring down at them as if they were still covered in blood. “These goddamn hands of mine have seen so much suffering.” He sighed. “Even if I was out on my feet, so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, another stretcher would be laid in front of me, carrying another boy who’d never get to see his sweetheart again, who’d never walk or was screaming in pain while I tried everything I could to keep him alive.”

Christina understood the stress he’d been under. Though she’d never experienced combat, she’d spoken to plenty of doctors and nurses who’d returned stateside from the battlefields and had listened as they described the exhaustion, the never-ending wounded, and how they’d struggled to cope. Her own father, Mason Tucker, had told her about the hospital where he’d convalesced, about the countless beds filled with the casualties of war.

“When I was in France,” Dr. Barlow continued, “even during the few hours I managed to get any sleep I’d dream I was still in surgery, a scalpel in my hand, blood staining my fingers, splattered on my clothing. Every once in a while, I’d look down and discover that the soldier I was about to cut into had my face. To escape all of that…I started taking morphine.”

“Did that make it any better?” Christina asked.

“It did.” He nodded. “Once I gave myself a shot, I could sleep. I’d still wake up to the same nightmares, but for a brief while it was worth whatever withdrawal I suffered through. My mistake was assuming once I got back home to Longstock things would go back to the way they were before the war. I hadn’t counted on the damn dreams taking the boat with me.

“The first time I had one back home, I didn’t worry too much. The second time, I was shaken up pretty bad. The third time, I started keeping a syringe and a bottle of morphine in my bedside table. There hasn’t been a week in the last twenty-five years I haven’t had a nightmare.”

“Have you tried to get help?”

“There isn’t anyone around here that could make me forget those broken-up bodies, those faces I see in the night.”

Christina couldn’t help but draw a connection between what Dr. Barlow was telling her and Holden’s experiences. Like his nephew, the doctor had suffered a trauma he’d been unable to avoid. But rather than try to unburden himself, he’d chosen to keep it inside, allowing it to fester until it had defined him. Every time he sought sanctuary in morphine, he was refusing to confront his demons.

But as she had with Holden, Christina now saw an opportunity for Dr. Barlow to get better, to take back his life.

“That first night that I went up to Holden’s room, you agreed with me that the only way he was ever going to get better was to talk about his problem,” she said.

“I did,” he agreed.

“Then why are you willing to give your nephew advice that you aren’t applying to yourself? Holden has made such great strides! If you’d give yourself the same opportunity, then—”

“Because the only person I ever considered telling the truth to just passed away in her sleep,” Dr. Barlow cut her off.

“Eunice?” Christina gasped.

“Maybe that’s why I enjoyed her company so much,” he said with a sad smile. “She used to spend her days crossing the world and experiencing everything under the sun, cherishing those memories as she got older. But for me, the one time I crossed the ocean turned me into an addict. I hope she wouldn’t mind my saying this, but I suppose I was jealous.”

“It’s not too late. If you’d let it out, things could get better.”

Dr. Barlow shook his head. “Maybe when I was younger there’d have been a chance, but now I’m just an old man whose life has gone to hell in a handcart.”

While Christina understood that he was upset about Eunice’s sudden death, she wondered if his gloomy outlook wasn’t partly the result of his run-in with the strange man.

But before she could ask, the sheriff’s car pulled into Eunice’s drive, followed by a long, black hearse.

“I hope you don’t think less of me because of what I’ve told you,” Dr. Barlow said as he crushed his cigarette beneath his shoe.

“Not at all,” she answered.

The doctor nodded. “I suppose we should get back to work.”

Christina had a hard time concealing her disappointment. While she’d received some answers to her questions, she hadn’t received all of them, and the chance to ask looked to have passed; there was no way of knowing when, if ever, she’d get another opportunity.

The rest of the day was spent dealing with Eunice Hester’s death. The sheriff made note of what had happened, talking at length with Eunice’s still-distraught friend; though she wasn’t privy to what was being said, Christina thought he looked sympathetic, with his hat in his hands. Dr. Barlow took great care in preparing Eunice’s body for transportation to town. On one occasion, Christina noticed him wipe a tear from his eye. Arrangements were made to notify Eunice’s next of kin, a cousin living in Madison, and then they were finished.

Neither of them said much during the drive back to Longstock. Christina’s thoughts careened around her head as if they were caught in the grasp of a tornado: Eunice lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, the feeling of Tyler’s lips against hers, and Dr. Barlow’s explanation for his taking morphine were whirling there, but her attention settled again and again on what had happened with Holden.

In the end, Christina knew she had to take a measure of responsibility for allowing their kiss to linger. If she’d truly wanted it to stop, she would’ve resisted when it began, but instead, she’d met his affection with her own. Ultimately, the blame was hers.

What truly worried her was what that kiss would do to Tyler. How could she begin to tell him about what’d happened between her and his brother? She was so ashamed, so embarrassed, that she couldn’t imagine facing Tyler. Still, Christina knew that when she eventually did, she’d have to tell him the truth. Given how strained things were between him and Holden, there was no telling what the repercussions might be.

How did I manage to make such a mess of things…?

As soon as Christina had that thought, Dr. Barlow turned the coupe down the alleyway behind the clinic, and she saw Tyler leaning against the side of the building. He was out of the sun, but she could still see the smile creasing his features when he saw them drive up. Bending down, he picked up a tattered box at his feet.