Miracle in the Mist (24 page)

Steve and Meghan exchanged glances.

Frank stood and paced the room, and then he stopped. "I'll just stay here. I'll wait for her right here."

Steve shook his head. "You can't do that, my friend. It's not over yet for you. You still have things to do."

Puzzled, Frank waited for him to continue speaking. When he didn't, Frank took his seat again. "What things?"

Steve spoke one important word. "Destiny. Why you were not killed in that accident along with Sandy."

Destiny
. He'd grown so sick of that word. Shaking his head, he buried his face in his hands to gather his thoughts. When he could speak again without throwing his anger in the face of his friends, he looked at Steve and asked the one thing he most wanted to know. "How will I know when Carrie leaves the village?"

Steve glanced at Meghan. She inclined her head the merest fraction.

"I never told you why I ran out of Haverty's Bar the day we were having lunch, did I?"

Frank dredged his memory for the day Steve was talking about. Steve had just come back from his visit to the infamous Renaissance, and he'd been deeply depressed, much as Frank was right now. Worried about his friend, Frank had suggested they play hooky and meet for lunch at the Irish bar that the doctors from St Joseph's Hospital frequented. They'd just been served Haverty's signature platter of fish and chips when Steve had suddenly bolted from the place without explanation. The next time Frank had seen him, Steve had introduced him to Meghan and told him he was getting married.

"What about it?" Frank had no idea what their aborted lunch date had to do with Carrie, but he was willing to ride it out and see what Steve was leading up to.

"That was the day Meghan came to me from the mist."

Frank frowned. "But how—"

"How did I know?" Frank nodded. "I knew here." Steve laid his hand over his heart. "But even knowing didn't bring her through. It was when my absolute faith in our love took hold that she finally came to me, whole and with her memory of our love intact." He put his arm around his wife and cuddled her close to his side. "Have faith and trust in the love you share with Carrie, Frank, and you'll know when she steps off that bridge and back into this world. No matter where you are, your heart will tell you."

Frank nodded, but inside skepticism clouded his easy acceptance of Steve's prediction.

Chapter 20

A shutter banging in the night? The rain still pounding on the roof? Carrie wasn't sure what had awakened her, but she knew she would not find sleep again soon. One thing she was sure of was the nightmares that had ravaged her dreams for so long hadn't been the cause. Plagued by sleeplessness, she got out of bed and went to sit on the window seat.

With her fingertip, she traced the path of a raindrop as it skidded down the pane. Angel tears, her grandmother had called them. She picked up the tiny bear talisman from the table beside her and squeezed it tightly in her fist.

Courage, little one
, her grandmother whispered in her ear.
Courage
.

"I'm trying, Gram. I'm really trying, but I miss Frank terribly, and I wish he were here so I could tell him about our baby." She laid her hand gently on her flat abdomen.

He'll know soon enough, child. Right now, you need to finish your journey here and find the answers you need so you can go back and do what needs to be done
.

"But what is it that needs to be done?" she asked. Silence. "Gram?" More silence.

She sighed. No easy answers ever came her way either from Clara or her grandmother. Just this once she wished someone would give her a straight answer. With her memory still a blank, how was she to do whatever it was that everyone said she needed to do?

Her gaze shifted to the dresser where she'd propped up two of her paintings. One of the faceless man and one of Frank. Oddly enough, Frank's painting seemed to have taken on a life of its own. The sadness she'd painted into Frank's eyes originally was gone and had been replaced by a soul-deep longing that tore at her heart.

She let her head fall back against the wall and gazed at the inky darkness beyond the window. Out there, somewhere, was her future, and she flatly refused to think of it without Frank.

"I love you," she whispered and prayed that wherever he was, he heard it. "I
will
figure this out," she vowed, imbued with a new strength of purpose, "and I
will
find you." She laid her hand on her stomach. "
We'll
find you."

Knowing sleep would be elusive, Carrie lit the bedside candle and picked up her paint case. But instead of grabbing one of the blank canvases Sara had sent over from the store, she picked up the painting of the faceless man and settled herself in the window seat. Propping the painting in the opposite side of the window frame, she studied it for a long time.

Almost without knowing she did it, she found a brush in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she dipped the bristles into the paint and began to work. Time after time she replenished the brush and applied the paint to the picture.

By the time she laid the brush down, the sun was starting to seep through the window and illuminate the room with its pale morning light.

Carrie stared at her work. To her utter surprise, she'd painted a face on the man in the picture. His handsome features stared back at her through brown eyes dark with evil. Hair the same color as his eyes fell over his forehead.

To her further surprise, though she'd finally given a face to the man haunting her dreams, she had no idea who he was. Disappointment and frustration welled up inside of her. She'd been so positive that when he had a face, her memories would come rushing back. Instead, he was just another part of a puzzle of which she had no memory.

Giving vent to her anger, she threw the picture, the brush, and the paint box across the room and dissolved in a torrent of disheartened tears.

***

Frank pulled his scrub cap from his head and pushed open the swinging door to the operating room. It had been one long day after another of surgeries. Coupled with his nearly sleepless nights, exhaustion had become his constant companion.

Leaning on the waiting room window sill, he glanced outside. Night had fallen while he'd been in surgery, and the predicted, stiff northeasterner had blown a new snowstorm in off Long Island Sound. Already six to eight inches of the white stuff had accumulated on the sill.

Opting for remaining in the hospital and sleeping in his office instead of driving through the storm, Frank ambled toward the bank of elevators. He pushed the button and then closed his eyes and leaned tiredly against the wall while he waited for the car to arrive. The sound of the doors
whooshing
open roused him enough for him to make his way inside and push the button for the fifth floor.

No sooner had the doors closed than the lights dimmed. He sighed, hoping that didn't mean the storm had affected the electricity supply to the building. When they didn't come back up immediately, he assumed the generator had failed to kick in. Neither did the elevator budge. He mashed the button marked by the number five several times, but that did nothing.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered and resignedly collapsed against the wall. "What the hell? I'll just sleep here," he decided and slipped to the floor.

No sooner had he hit the floor than he heard a strange, high-pitched ringing in his ears. Clamping his hands over his ears, he looked around for the source of the sound. But there was nothing but the stark gray walls, the button panel, and a bright red emergency phone. He grabbed the phone and put it to his ear, but the line was dead. He slammed it back into its cradle and cursed.

"What the hell is going on?"

As suddenly as the ringing had started, it stopped.

"I love you. I
will
figure this out, and I
will
find you.
We'll
find you."

He knew that voice as well as he knew his own. "Carrie? I love you, too." But there was no reply. "What do you mean by
we
?" He waited. No answer. "Carrie, answer me." It was no use. The voice had gone silent.

Was this that time that Steve had warned him about? Did this mean that Carrie was coming out of the mist? He waited for the feeling Steve said he'd get in his heart, but the only thing he felt was desolation and pain and the familiar ache of the life being squeezed out of his soul. How long would he be able to stand this?

Hoping Carrie's voice would come again, he listened intently. With a jolt and a loud
whirring
, the elevator came to life. The lights grew bright, and the car climbed upward. With what must have sounded like a whimper of defeat, Frank slid to the floor in a crumpled heap, uncaring that when the doors opened on the fifth floor, someone might find him acting like a beaten puppy.

***

The following morning, Emanuel, Clara, Alvin, and Ellie were gathered around Clara's kitchen table. In front of each of them was a mug of steaming coffee. The previous night's rain had stopped, and brilliant sunshine streamed into the room.

Clara sensed something important was about to take place. With anticipation building by the second, she gripped her hands in her lap and waited. It didn't take long.

Alvin looked at Ellie, and then linked his hand with hers on the tabletop. "We'd like you to marry us, Emanuel," he blurted.

Clara noted that his rugged cheeks pinked, and he looked deep into his cup as though the secret to world peace lay somewhere in the depths of the dark, hot liquid.

"That's wonderful," she said, reaching out to squeeze both his hand and Ellie's.

Emanuel smiled gently and nodded. "I'd be honored. When would you like the ceremony to be performed?"

"Now," Alvin said. "As soon as possible." He hesitated and turned to Ellie. "That is, if it's okay with you."

"Now is perfect." Ellie smiled up at him, her love bringing her blue eyes to life in a way Clara had never seen before.

"Now it is, then." Emanuel stood and positioned himself with his back to the window. The sunlight haloed his entire body. Alvin and Ellie stood in front of him, their hands tightly clasped together.

"Wait," Clara said. She grabbed her paring knife off the table and disappeared through the back door. When she returned, she carried a small bouquet of purple irises. "Here," she said, thrusting them into Ellie's hands. "Every bride should have a bouquet."

"How perfect, Clara," the Elder said, gazing down at the rich color. "If memory serves, irises mean faith, hope, wisdom, courage, and admiration. Very apropos. You couldn't have chosen better, Clara." Taking both Ellie's and Alvin's hands in his, Emanuel smiled at them. "Since only the two of you know what lies hidden in your hearts, I ask that each of you repeat your promises to the other. Ellie?"

Ellie turned to Alvin, and because she barely came up to his shoulder, she tilted back her head so she could look him in the eyes. "Once, long ago, I came here as a child and saw you, and love took root in my heart. When I returned as a woman, that love had grown tenfold, and I knew this day would come. Now that it has, I pledge my heart, my soul, my life and my love to you and your happiness forever."

Clara sniffed loudly and dabbed at her welling eyes with the corner of her apron. Emanuel smiled at her.

Clearing his throat of what Clara thought had to be the same emotion that had drawn her tears, Alvin looked down at Ellie. "I never dreamed the day would come again when I would tell a woman I loved her, but you changed all that with your sweetness, your joy, and your wisdom. For that I thank you, and with all my heart I swear to protect you and do all I can to make you as happy as you've made me."

They both turned to Emanuel.

The Elder smiled. "I would advise you to kiss her and seal the bargain, my friend."

Alvin chuckled, then bent his head and kissed Ellie. Clara sighed and dabbed again at her eyes.

"Well, then, Mr. and Mrs. Tripp," Clara said, still dabbing at her eyes and sniffling, "I think this calls for a bit of a celebration." She hurried off to get the cake she'd baked that morning.

After they'd all taken their places at the table again, Clara refilled everyone's coffee cup and sliced large slabs off her special chocolate layer cake.

Emanuel cleared his throat. "Ahem. I'm assuming you'll want some time to get away on a… " He raised an eyebrow and looked to Clara.

"I believe it's called a honeymoon."

"Yes, a honeymoon."

Alvin and Ellie nodded in unison, then laughed.

"I wonder if you could put it off for a day or two." Emanuel waited patiently while they exchanged glances.

"Of course," Ellie finally said. "But why?"

Before he answered Ellie, Emanuel turned to Clara. "Where is Carrie?"

"She's in the garden."

Emanuel nodded, then turned his gaze back to the newlyweds. "I think Carrie might be ready to leave us by then, and I will need someone to escort her back to Tarrytown."

***

Carrie stretched her tired limbs and looked toward the sound of Clara's front door closing. Alvin and Ellie had just emerged. Hand in hand, they walked down the path toward Ellie's cottage. Ellie looked up at Alvin and said something that made him laugh out loud. Then he scooped her into his arms and headed for her cottage at a trot.

Jealousy knifed through Carrie. She dragged her gaze away. Though she was happy for them, she wished that they were her and Frank. They deserved happiness as much as Alvin and Ellie did. Why were they being denied that?

Unable to stand the loneliness of not having Frank nearby, she left the riverbank and meandered into the forest. She had gone quite some distance when she realized that her feet were automatically taking her toward the waterfall where she and Frank had known that one perfect day filled with love and happiness.

As she moved through the trees, she was suddenly aware of footsteps behind her. At first her heart leaped.
Frank
! But she immediately knew that it couldn't be Frank and that any hope that it was had been created by the desperate need in her aching heart.