Speechless (15 page)

I love you, Stone.

He fell immediately silent, gazed at her for a moment, then
put a hand to her face and pulled her close for a kiss.

I love you, too, Eva.

* * * * *

Stone felt as if his chest would burst as he and Eva walked
back to the house after their picnic lunch. He could not keep from touching
her—holding her hand, an arm around her waist, his mouth sneaking tastes of her
neck or hand or cheek, his hand creeping downward from the small of her back to
her ass. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to consummate their mutual love,
wanted to become one with her and never let her go. He wanted to live for the
moment, to pretend there was no future to worry about, that now was all that
mattered. He wanted to take her to bed and fill her every orifice with him.

He couldn’t do it, though, he realized as they rounded the
barn and made for the house. They were sleeping down the hall from his parents,
in a house built long before soundproofing. Every squeak and thump could be
heard all through the building. He sighed and eyed the barn speculatively. They
could nest among the bales of hay, spread blankets and pillows.

Eva glanced at him and she must have read his face, because
she blushed and smiled, as if she knew what he was picturing them doing in the
barn loft.

After everyone’s in bed?

If I can smuggle some blankets out this afternoon.

She flushed and her eyes brightened with excitement.
Can
we put sleeping pills in the iced tea?

Stone laughed, pulled her close and wrapped his arms tight
around her.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?”

Stone and Eva turned to see his father watching them from a
few steps away. “What do you mean, Dad?”

“You never used to laugh. You’ve laughed more in the
twenty-four hours you’ve been here than you did in the first twenty years of
your life.”

Stone felt a smile pull at his lips. “You’re just going to
have to get used to it. As least as long as Eva’s around.”

“You always were too serious as a child.”

Stone’s smile faded. “I modeled myself after you.”

His father stepped closer. “What’d you want to go and do
that for?” Stone could tell he was both surprised and pleased, though he tried
not to show it.

“You were my dad. Of course I wanted to be just like you.
All boys want to be like their fathers.”

“You didn’t seem to think so as a teenager.”

Eva squeezed Stone’s hand and left them alone, going on into
the house so that father and son wouldn’t have an audience. Stone appreciated
her thoughtfulness, but almost wished she had stayed. He had a habit of losing
his temper when he and his father talked and her presence would steady and
restrain him. He looked at his father now and saw the strength and character he
had missed as a younger man. All he’d known then was that he was stuck in
hicksville with no cable TV or professional sports teams or shopping malls or
girl next door—none of the things assumed to be fixtures in every kid’s life.
His dad had dirt under his fingernails and only one suit, which he’d worn to
church every Sunday for twenty years.

“I was stupid as a teenager, Dad. I didn’t know how good I
had it.”

His father harumphed. “You weren’t much better as an adult.
What did you call us? A bunch of backward hillbillies who thought progress was
getting indoor plumbing and success was keeping the house standing for another
year.”

That his father remembered Stone’s parting shot
word-for-word showed just how much he had managed to wound his family. He
wasn’t proud of the way he’d left, swearing that nothing here mattered to him,
that he would never return if he could help it. He shook his head.

“I felt trapped here, like I would never accomplish anything
if I stayed. You were so insistent that I belonged on the farm, that it seemed
like the only way to get away was to break out of the trap.”

“You did belong on the farm. You abandoned your mother.”

And his father, Stone knew he was thinking, but the older
man wouldn’t say it.

“No, Dad, I didn’t belong on the farm.” Stone felt his
temper rising. “This is why I had to leave. You never did see who I really am.
I was your son, so I had to be a farmer. I had to be happy scraping a living
from rocky soil and sad-eyed cattle. It doesn’t work that way. I would have
been miserable if I had stayed.”

Now his father was getting angry, too. This was how it had
always happened between them. His father tried to force him into his little box
and Stone struck out against that attempt at control and it spiraled from
there.

“Farming isn’t good enough for you?”

Stone scrubbed a hand down his face in frustration. “That’s
not it. I’m not good enough to be a farmer. I don’t have the patience or
strength for it. I’m too easily bored. You find satisfaction in growth and
seasons and the turning of the year. I find it in action and movement.” He
turned to look at the house and saw a curtain falling into place. Was it his mother
or Eva who watched them? The former, probably, waiting for them to blow up, for
Stone to say something cruel and stalk off. Yet another pattern from his
boyhood to fall back into place. But not this one—Stone wouldn’t let it.

“What you do is important, Dad. You feed people you’ll never
meet. You take good care of Mom—and took good care of David and me. It’s hard
work for little return and I admire you for doing it. I wouldn’t be able to do
it half as well as you do.”

His father just looked at him, actual surprise on his face.
“Your mother told me you hadn’t changed much since you left. Seems to me you’ve
changed a lot.”

Stone smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

His father nodded and held out his hand for Stone to shake.
“Welcome home, Son.”

They left for the football game early enough to get a good
parking spot and Eva watched the streams of people flowing toward the stadium
behind the big brick school at the edge of town. Every building had blue and
white banners hung or flags flying, urging the Eagles to victory. Barton had
four churches, a hardware store, feed store and a ragtag collection of
restaurants, insurance agents and other storefronts. The high school was easily
the biggest building in town and the middle school across the street was the
second largest.

It seemed Stone’s family was well-known around town. Almost
everyone they saw greeted them with at least a cheerful wave. A few did a
double take when they saw Stone, then their eyebrows would arch and they’d turn
to their companions and whisper and take sidelong glances at the prodigal son.
Soon people started coming over to talk and Stone would introduce Eva, easing
her through the awkward moments when she would normally speak. Some people were
clearly family friends and to these, he would explain her speechlessness. Eva
knew that soon everyone in town—maybe in the county—would know that Jacob
Corbin had come home and had brought a mute woman with him.

They crossed the parking lot and reached the bottleneck of a
gate, where people were buying their tickets then immediately handing them over
to the gate keeper as they shuffled through the turnstile. David and a pretty
young brunette approached them, pulling them out of the ticket line and into
the turnstile line.

“Come on,” he said. “I already got our tickets.” He
stretched out the strip of six, then accordion-folded them back up again.

Ten minutes later they had cardboard trays of
food—hamburgers, hot dogs, chips and drinks—and had found a block of space in
the bleachers, Eva, Stone and David on one cold, metal bench, their parents and
Lucy on the row above. David leaned back onto his fiancée’s knees and smiled up
at her. Lucy, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, wore fashionable blue
jeans and an Eagles sweatshirt and had greeted Eva with a warm smile when David
introduced them. To Stone, she confessed that she didn’t think she’d ever meet
him. “From what your brother told me about you, I figured you were off in
central Asia somewhere, a feudal lord over three or four small villages and
training assassins in your ancient castle.”

Stone had smiled and replied, “That’s next on my to-do
list.” Eva wondered if anyone else had noticed the falseness in his expression.

Now, Lucy chatted happily with Stone’s mother and David,
while the other men and Eva sat in silence. She watched the people filling up
the seats around them—families mostly and groups of kids running in separate
packs of girls and boys. These clusters would touch, intermingle, then break
off with laughter and jibes, only to bump up against others moments later. Eva
remembered doing the same thing when she was in high school. It had been a game
to win the attention of the boys, to tease and intrigue, except that without a
voice, she’d been the overlooked one, never a part of whispered conversations
about who liked who that week. She was so grateful she didn’t have to worry
about that anymore. She knew who liked her and she liked him back. She leaned
against Stone, threaded her fingers through his and smiled to herself.

The first quarter of the game ended without either team
scoring. Stone rose to stretch and turned to look at the rest of the family. A
smile drifted across his lips for a moment.

“Dad, can I buy you a beer?”

Stone’s father looked up in surprise and Eva saw David’s
eyebrows go up.

John met his son’s eyes. “Sure, Son. I’d like that. Thanks.”
Even Eva, who didn’t know the history between these two, could tell that this
moment was a significant one. She’d never really understood it, but it had
always seemed to her that a man offering to buy another man a beer was a sign
of respect.

Stone nodded and scanned their little group. “Anyone else
want anything while I’m up?”

But before anyone could answer, a cry pierced the buzz of
conversation over the bleachers. Everyone stilled, knowing the difference
between a playful yell and a cry of fear.

“Oh, God! Somebody help!”

The call came from the side of the bleachers and Stone was
moving that way the instant he heard it. The rest of them followed, getting
caught up in the crush of other people wanting to see what was happening.
Knowing she couldn’t be much help at the scene—where Stone had somehow pushed
through and was now leaning over the railing—Eva went up a few rows, so she
could see better.

“Rope!” Stone called and several people went running.

Eva reached the railing and looked over and down and her
heart stopped. A boy, about nine or ten, was halfway up the criss-crossing
scaffolding of the bleachers. He clung to a bar with one hand, but it was his
sweatshirt caught on a bolt that supported him. The kid kicked and squirmed and
Eva knew that if he kept it up, his shirt wouldn’t hold and he would fall. But
he seemed desperate for his feet to find some support.

Stone lay flat, his head and shoulders hanging off the edge
of the bleachers and he spoke to the boy. “Mike, listen to me, okay? You have
to keep still. Don’t move a muscle. We’ll get you down. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” The boy’s voice was faint and full of fear and either
he didn’t understand Stone’s instructions, or he had no control over his legs,
for they kept moving. The shirt slipped a little and everyone watching sucked
in a breath en masse.

Stone cursed. “Where’s that fucking rope?” he demanded.

Eva looked and saw a man running toward them, a coil of rope
over his shoulder. But he was still too far away.

It’s coming, Stone. But unless the boy stops moving, it
won’t get here in time.

Stone’s head snapped up and he met her eyes.

Ok. I’m going to have to climb down without it. Eva, I
want one voice directing me. How good a view do you have?

Good enough, I think. What are you going to do?

Just get down there and steady him until the rope comes.
I won’t be able to see where I’m going, so you’re going to have to guide me.

Eva nodded her agreement. Stone rolled onto his back,
grabbed the railing above him and slid out, finding angles where the bars met
for his feet.

Move to the right before going down, or you’ll come down
right on top of him.

Slowly, with Eva directing him and guiding his feet to
secure support, Stone made his way down the fifteen feet to where the boy hung.
As he moved, other people shouted out suggestions, but Eva could tell all his
concentration was on her voice in his head and his movements. Never once did he
hesitate to follow her direction, despite yelled commands to do the opposite.

OK. You’re even with him,
Eva said.
What do you
want to do now?

Come up from beneath him. That way, if he falls…

He won’t fall. He’s so engrossed in watching you he’s
stopped kicking. You want to angle a bit to your left.

And so it continued, Stone’s slow spider crawl over the web
of metal. Finally, he wedged himself into a V formed by the bars just under
where the boy hung and braced his feet against another bar.

“Hi.” Stone spoke softly, but Eva could hear his voice
echoing in her mind. “We’re going to get you down, but we have to wait for the
rope, all right?”

The boy nodded.

“Hold very still and keep that grip on that bar. We’re going
to move very slowly and carefully to get the rope around you. Don’t move unless
I tell you to, okay?”

Another nod. The man with the rope had climbed the bleachers
by now and was lowering it to Stone. He grabbed the end as it reached him,
signaled to the man to let out a little more, then when he had enough, held up
his hand in a sign to stop. Without touching the boy, he looped the rope
loosely around his body, tied a slip knot and snugged up the slack.

“Pull it up just a little!” he called and those above reeled
in the extra until the rope was taut, half supporting the boy’s weight. Only
then did Stone touch him by putting a hand under his body as he reached up to
free his shirt from the bolt. As the fabric came free, the boy swung a little
and Stone grabbed for a hold to keep himself from falling. Only after he
steadied himself, resuming his perch as the boy was lowered to the ground, did
Eva notice all the people who had gathered to watch the drama, their camera
flashes popping, snapping pictures of the hero and the boy he rescued.

The boy touched ground and the gathered crowd erupted in
cheers. Stone looked up at Eva and she smiled at him.

Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.

You’re welcome.

Stone moved to start his own descent, but Eva stopped him.
Wait
for the rope.

I don’t need it.

Maybe not, but I do.

He smiled at her, reached for the now-free rope and tied it
quickly around himself before climbing down, more swiftly now that he didn’t
have to worry about dislodging a child.

As soon as he set foot on the ground, a woman launched
herself at him, wrapped her arms around him and seemed to be crying into his
shoulder. He patted her back, spoke softly to her, then gently disentangled
himself from her embrace and pointed her back toward the boy.

The woman paused and looked up at him, her eyes widening and
though Eva couldn’t hear what they said to each other, she could read the
woman’s lips clearly enough. “Jacob?”

When he smiled and nodded, she embraced him again, without
the tearful gratitude of a mother this time.

Old girlfriend?
Eva asked.

Stone looked up at her and grinned. Then more people pushed
in around him, shaking his hand, asking questions. A couple of people with
notepads approached him, one a teenaged girl, probably from the school paper.
These he waved away with a shake of his head. When he proved unforthcoming,
they interviewed the people around him. Eventually, the watchers from the top
of the bleachers, as well as the gathered crowd below, realized that nothing
more was going to happen and dispersed. Stone broke free of the last little
cluster of people trying to talk to him and disappeared behind the bleachers in
the direction of the concession stands.

The band was on the field for the halftime show before he
returned—somehow, the entire second quarter of the game had been played without
Eva even noticing.

“Sorry that took so long,” he said, handing his father a
cup. He took a sip from his own and sank to his seat next to Eva.

His father clapped him on the back, the universal sign of
pride among men. Eva saw a smile tug at Stone’s lips.

Eva leaned her head against his shoulder.
You were
amazing.

The remainder of the football game was punctuated by people
climbing the bleachers to shake Stone’s hand, tell him how incredible his
rescue had been and to ask what he’d been doing all these years. He fended off
questions with ease and most people never noticed that he didn’t give them
straight answers. They went off happy to have spoken with the hero of the night
but knowing little more than they had before.