Miracles and Mischief (3 page)

Zac…such a trusting child. She’d made the mistake of mentioning her letter to Nate Saylor, and he’d asked her again this morning when she thought the football star might stop by for a visit.

“I asked God to send him, Mama, so I just know he’ll come soon.”

“Maybe.” Shayna nodded as she stroked his hair, forcing back the lump in her throat. “But, you know he’s very busy, honey.”

“I know, but that’s OK.” Zac yawned against the drugs coursing through his system. “But he’ll be here, you’ll see.”

Shayna stood and paced the room. On the wall opposite the foot of the bed, a picture flashed across the muted TV. Shayna grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels. She needed a distraction—something to take her mind off the fact that Nate Saylor was too heartless and busy to even acknowledge the note she’d written. Nearly two weeks had passed, and Zac was getting restless. The press was right; in the football world, Nate might be a legend. But in real life, he was a loser. She’d been a fool to open her heart to him in her letter. What kind of man would break a little boy’s heart?

Zac was going to be crushed when he realized Nate wasn’t coming. What effect would it have on his condition?

Shayna forced the thought away and reached into her purse for a pack of peanut butter crackers. They’d have to tide her over. She heard the nurse’s rubber-soled shoes along the tile floor and the squeak of the med-cart wheels. It was show time, and Zac needed her at his side. As she slipped a cracker square into her mouth, she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Lord, please fill me with a mighty faith to match that of my son’s.
I want to trust You in all of this, Lord. Please show me Your way and help me to stay strong for Zac’s sake. Give him time, Lord, and bring him a donor to chase away this awful illness.

3

Stepping into Mill’s Landing Children’s Hospital brought back memories that Nate had fought hard to let go. The color of the walls hadn’t changed—still the neutral, pale shade of green that reminded him of the split-pea soup his grandmother used to simmer in a stock pot. And the smells were the same—stale air mingled with sweat and strong disinfectant. He scrunched his nose and sucked in short, shallow breaths.

“This way, Nate.” The perky Moments for Miracles volunteer turned a corner, and the camera crew double-timed it to keep up—one guy for lights and the other to hold the camera. Then, of course, the TV station sent their News at Noon reporter and her sidekick to round out the crowd. They were a mini-circus, and Nate was glad no one had mentioned his current legal troubles. None of them seemed to care. They had film to catch; the segment was slated to air tomorrow. “Zac’s in room 214 of the oncology wing. We have to go through the tunnel, and then ride the blue elevators to the second floor.”

“I know where it is.” Nate had his doubts about all the people with him. If the kid was so sick, weren’t visitors restricted due to germs? He was about to ask, when a woman turned away from the information desk and caught a glimpse of him. Her mouth pursed into a surprised little
oh
as she rushed over to him, squealing like a tipped cow.

“Nate Saylor—
the
Nate Saylor?”

“That’s right.” Nate put on the brakes before he stumbled into her. “May I help you?”

Both hands flew to her mouth, and the squealing subsided as she spoke. “Oh, I’m so sorry about your fumble. If they gave you another chance, I know you’d catch that pass. It was awful, just awful!” She shook her blonde head. “I’m still your favorite fan, even if my boyfriend
did
burn his Titan’s jersey after that game. Can I have your autograph?”

“Sure.” Nate groaned inside. So much for forgetting about his blunder. He waited while she searched through her oversized purse for a pen and a scrap of paper.

“Oh, my boyfriend will never believe this!” Her green eyes were huge and round as she handed him the pen and paper. “He’s a lab tech here, and I’m going to meet him for dinner.”

“I see.” Nate held the slip of paper up to the wall for a firm surface. “What’s your name?”

“Jillian.” She giggled. “Oh, this is just too much!”

“Here you go, Jillian.” Nate scribbled a quick sentiment, and then signed his name before returning the paper and pen to her.

“Oh my, thank you!” she gushed as she scanned the words and then hugged the paper to her chest. “You’ve made my day.”

“You’re welcome.” Nate plastered on a grin as he sidestepped her to catch up with the rest of the group. He glanced back over his shoulder as he headed into the tunnel. “Tell your boyfriend hello and to get himself a new jersey, because next year the Titans are going to the Super Bowl.”

“Oh, I will!” She turned to rush down the hall toward the elevators, waving the autographed paper in the air. Her voice floated back. “Nate Saylor…I just met Nate Saylor.”

****

“Mama, do you hear that?” Zac lifted his head from the pillow and gazed toward the doorway of his hospital room. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming, honey?” Shayna leaned forward in her chair to smooth hair from his clammy forehead. Was that the beginnings of a fever she felt? Maybe she should summon a nurse.

“Nate Saylor. I hear him, Mama. See…I told you he’d come.”

Shayna glanced at her watch, frowning. “Honey, that’s just the nurses making their rounds.”

“No, Mama. This sounds different.” Zac struggled to sit up in the bed. “I hear boots stomping the floor, and Nate likes to wear boots, Mama. I saw it on TV. Can you hear the stomps?”

Shayna craned an ear toward the hall. Zac was right. The commotion
did
sound different. It was thicker, like waves churning down the corridor. Someone was in a hurry to get where he was going. She rose from the chair, hesitant to leave Zac’s side. “I’ll take a peek, OK?”

“Yes.” Zac adjusted the Titan’s ball cap low over his anxious eyes. “Please, Mama, and tell me what you see.”

Shayna slipped from the bed, pausing long enough to hand Zac his stuffed bear before tiptoeing toward the door. She tucked a strand of dark hair over one ear and peeked around the corner.

“Mama, look!”

Zac’s warning came too late. One moment Shayna was on her feet, easing toward the doorway. The next found her falling hard to the cold tile floor. A rush of breath escaped her in one quick, painful gasp.

“Mama, are you OK?”

“No.” Shayna struggled for air, the room spinning. She was sure at least one of her ribs was bruised. “Ouch!”

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry.” The deep voice chased away optical stars. “My bad. I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?”

“I’m…” Shayna shook her head as he reached for her elbow. His touch was warm, his fingers long enough to easily circle her arm. “Just give me a minute.”

“Here, let me help you.” Strong arms hauled her to her feet. The guy turned his head. “You didn’t film that, did you?”

“No, Nate.” A familiar female voice. Where had Shayna heard it before? She struggled to make sense of things. It took a moment for the name to register. Nate…Nate…

“Mama, it’s Nate Saylor!” Zac’s voice pierced the fog, and Shayna shook her head to chase away confusion. “See, Mama. I
told
you he was coming!”

In a flurry, the room was filled with half a dozen people, including Janet Iverson, the anchor for Channel Five’s noonday news. No wonder the voice was familiar—Shayna had spent days watching the news show while Zac rested in the hospital bed.

Shayna’s head swam as clear vision returned. Zac was sitting up in the bed, his cheeks flushed with color for the first time in weeks. He dropped his bear and reached for the football on the bedside table.

“Hi, Nate.” Zac offered the ball to their surprise guest. “Look what I’ve got.”

“Hey, buddy. I see…it’s cool.”

Shayna’s gaze was drawn to the man who spoke to Zac as if they were lifelong friends. What she found stole her breath again. The guy was tall, broad—huge. She’d seen his face before, on TV and in the posters Zac begged to hang on his bedroom wall at home. Except in those, the guy wore a Titan’s uniform instead of jeans and cowboy boots. And in the posters his expression was fierce, focused…not at all soft like it was now.

“I’m really sorry about running into you.” He leaned down, and blond hair spilled over the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. His nose was slightly crooked, with a subtle bump across the bridge—probably broken in a play gone awry. But even that seemed to enhance his good looks. The scent of pine clung to his snug black T-shirt. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“I’m…I’m fine.” Shayna took a step back, smoothing the wrinkles from her cotton blouse. She’d slept in the bedside chair again last night and hadn’t wanted to leave Zac long enough to run home for clean clothes. So, the shirt had seen better days. “But I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“I got your letter, Mrs. Grady—”

“Shayna.”

“I got your letter, and I just had to come see Zac.”

“See, Mama…I told you.” Zac’s eager voice cut in. “He came for me, Mama.”

“I see that.” Shayna smiled and nodded to her son before turning back to Nate. “But the counselor promised she’d warn us before you came.”

“I’m so sorry, Shayna.” Laura Evans stepped forward, blushing. “Nate wanted this to be a surprise.”

“But, I thought…” Shayna caught her lower lip between her teeth and tried not to scowl. This was Zac’s wish, and who was she to ruin it? “I suppose Mr. Saylor gets his way all the time, despite the effect on those around him.”

“Not
all
the time.” Nate winked, and the room began to spin once again. Shayna wasn’t sure if the tilt was caused by his piercing blue eyes or the knot she felt forming on her forehead where his elbow had connected with her skull. She shook her head to clear it.

“But, this time.” A beam of light caught Shayna’s eye, and she realized the camera was rolling. She retreated another giant step, running a hand through her mussed hair. “Don’t film me, please.”

The camera panned left toward Zac, whose gap-toothed grin was contagious. “Wow, Mama.” He struggled to sit up in the bed. “Oh, wow!”

“Hang on, buddy.” Nate rounded Shayna and stepped to the bedside to help her son as the IV line became tangled. “I think you’re caught.”

“It does that a lot.” Zac waited while Nate carefully untangled the line. “That’s better. Hey, did you see my ball?”

“Yes, I did.” Nate reached for the football. “That’s official license, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Mama got it for me for Christmas.”

“Cool. That’s quite a gift.”

“Will you sign it for me?”

“Sure.” Nate pulled a Sharpie from his jeans pocket. “And I’ll take it to be signed by some of the guys on the team, too, if you’d like.”

Nate’s golden eyes grew wide with wonder. “You’d do that for me?”

“Sure.” Nate nodded, grinning. “Why not?”

“Mama says you’re too busy for stuff like that.”

“During the season, maybe. But that’s over, and I’m not too busy for you.”

Shayna watched the interaction, mystified. For a moment, she almost believed Zac was perfectly healthy. His cheeks pinked, and his eyes glowed like a flash of gold. If she didn’t know better…

“Excuse me.” The cameraman stepped around Shayna to draw closer to the bed as Nate finished signing the football. “This is great stuff. I need to get it.”

“Wait.” Shayna rushed forward, blocking Nate as he made the handoff back to Zac. “That ball might not be clean now. Have you washed your hands?”

“The nurse told each of us the procedure, and I took the proper steps. She cleared me.”

“What about the rest of you?” Shayna narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms tight over her chest. “Step back, please. It’s not good to have so many people in here. It could compromise Zac’s health.”

“We don’t want that.” Nate turned to the crew. “Let’s just have the camera, then. The rest of you wait in the hall.”

“But the lighting—”

“Will be just fine.”

“And the footage—”

“Will either be good, or it won’t.” Nate took a step toward the group, ushering them back. “Either way, it’s not up for debate. Go grab a cup of coffee. I’ll text you when we’re finished.”

4

Nate waited while Shayna slipped the sheet over Zac, carefully tucking it in around his shoulders. With the IV line concealed beneath a thin blanket and the kid sleeping peacefully following the latest hit of meds, he looked almost healthy.

But he wasn’t. He had cancer. The serious kind, according to the Moments for Miracles counselor who’d briefed Nate just before his visit. Maybe that accounted for the way Shayna paced the room like a protective mama panther. She was petite and couldn’t weigh much more than a baby calf, but she was strong and agile in a manner that was rare. The way she’d slipped between him and Zac at the football handoff would have had any NFL scout worth a hill of beans take notice. Nate sensed she’d protect her son with her life.

She turned to Nate now, her mahogany hair swishing over tense shoulders. She smoothed a palm over her blouse before crossing her arms tight over her chest. Despite the fact that she probably hadn’t enjoyed a decent night’s sleep in days, maybe weeks, she had a certain beauty that drew Nate’s gaze like a magnet. Warm, chocolate eyes, adorned with the same gold flecks as Zac’s, scanned the length of him. The dimples at each corner of her mouth deepened as she spoke.

“I appreciate you coming here today, Nate. Really I do. It meant the world to Zac. I haven’t seen him so excited…well, ever.”

“I’m glad. He’s a special kid.” With that red, spiky hair and gap-toothed grin, he’d stolen Nate’s heart from the word go. The very fact was a surprise. Nate had stayed clear of kids—especially sick kids—since Josh’s death. Too many memories and way too much heartache. He’d shut that door tight, and had no desire to unlock it again.

“Sure, Zac is precious to me,” Shayna continued as she kept her hands busy tidying the small table beside the bed. “But his situation is all too ordinary around here. I see kids every day, just waiting for a miracle. Most of the time—more often than not—that miracle doesn’t come.”