Starlight (23 page)

“Karen,” Rand coaxed softly, “come home. You won’t be able to help your father any more here than you could at home. You need your rest. You’ll only make yourself ill.”

Stubbornly, Karen shook her head. “No,” she whispered on a fervent note. “Judy and I are staying.”

Rand didn’t attempt to pressure her further. He left a few minutes later with the promise to return later that afternoon.

The hours merged together. Nothing mattered. There were no stars, no sun, no universe; nothing was of consequence while her father’s life hung in a delicate balance.

The two sisters rarely spoke; the communication between them didn’t require words.

The doctor had left word that Karen and Judy could visit Matthew for five minutes every hour, but only one at a time. When Karen went, she stroked his brow lovingly and murmured soothing phrases. Sometimes Matthew’s eyes would drift open to gaze at her sightlessly, but his lashes lowered slowly, as if sleep had lured him back into
her arms.

Seeing her father for only those few minutes wrenched at Karen’s heart. He was so pitifully weak, so vulnerable. The picture of her physically strong, active father was far removed from the man who lay in the intensive care unit fighting for his life.

Rand returned and again attempted to persuade the women to go home and rest. Just as adamantly, Karen and Judy refused, fearing Matthew would wake, wanting them, believing with all their being they would instill in their father their own strength.

For a second time, Rand accepted their decision, remaining until late that night, having meals sent and ordering pillows and blankets when it became obvious neither of them would leave. Rand’s quiet strength fueled Karen with desperately needed hope. She sat with his arms supporting her and relaxed for the first time in twenty-four hours. She was dimly aware of being lowered upon a soft cushion and covered with a blanket. A faint shadow stood above her, but the magnetic allure of sleep, sweet, blissful slumber, called, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next day followed the pattern of the first. Matthew’s condition remained unchanged. Friends and relatives continued to visit, but there was no word, no hope to offer as Matthew clung to the delicate thread of life.

Rand was with them as much as possible, concerning himself with their basic needs of food and rest. He held Karen again until she fell asleep; she faintly recalled a caressing kiss on her cheek as she slipped into sleep on the third night of their vigil.

Early the next evening, the doctor appeared and for the first time greeted Karen and Judy with an encouraging smile.

“Your father has made definite improvement today. He’s awake and already giving the nurses a bad time.” He seemed to find amusement in this and chuckled over some private joke. “Although the immediate danger has passed, Matthew must remain in the coronary care unit for several days, depending on his progress. From there he’ll be transferred to the progressive care unit.” Dr. Phillips took care to explain the details of Matthew’s recovery and left with an optimistic smile a few minutes later.

After the unbearable wait, the news of Matthew’s improvement was like a refreshing, life-giving rain after a summer drought. Karen and Judy hugged each other, the tension broken as happy tears blurred their eyes.

When Judy gave a small, strangled sound, Karen looked up, confused and unsure, to find her sister hurrying down the corridor. Walking toward them was Rand and her brother-in-law, Mike Turner.

Judy floated into her husband’s arms and was enfolded in an embrace that spoke of worry, concern, and months of longing.

“How … when?” She didn’t seem capable of forming a complete sentence.

Mike laughed. “Rand contacted the air force, and I was given emergency leave. I can see I’m going to appreciate my new brother-in-law.” His smile was broad; then he sobered as if remembering the reason for his being there. “How’s Matt now?”

“Better, much better,” Judy supplied the information. “The doctor was just here. There’s a long uphill road to recovery for Dad, but Dr. Phillips feels optimistic.”

Rand rested his hand lightly across Karen’s shoulder, and she slipped her arm around his waist. The simple contact brought a ray of hope to the problems they had yet to face regarding her pregnancy. When she glanced at Rand, she found him smiling smugly.

“What did I tell you? I knew that crusty old devil was going to make it.” His expression altered. “It’s time to come home. Evan and Milly are coming later. They’ll phone if there’s any change.”

After three restless nights, catching what sleep they could on a lumpy davenport, both daughters were ready to agree.

The two couples left the hospital, and for the first time in three days Karen breathed in fresh air and looked toward the sun. Her eyes were lambent, her relief almost translucent.

Carl greeted her with anxious eyes but relaxed after she gave him a reassuring smile. “I don’t need to ask how your father’s doing, Miss Karen,” he said. “The smile on your face answers all doubts.”

“Dad’s better, much better. Thank you for your concern.”

The older man looked pleased. “The missus has dinner waiting. She’ll be glad to hear your father is improving.”

Everyone was being so wonderful. Karen felt a knot building in her throat, never having realized before how the loving support of friends could mean so much.

“Thank her for me,” Karen murmured, holding back the tears.

Home held the comfort of familiarity, and Karen looked around her as if seeing it with new eyes. Flowers decorated the table; her collection of figurines on the mahogany bookcase stared back at her, providing solace that would have been difficult to describe with words.

The aroma of the meal warming in the oven couldn’t deter Karen from the thought of a hot shower and washing her hair. As she entered the bedroom, she halted in midstep; the open suitcase on the bed caused her to stop and stare.

“Oh, Rand, the trip … the lecture series. I’d forgotten. You were supposed to leave today,” she said, horrified. Everything was so confused in her mind; time had lost
meaning as the days blended together. The trip, their argument, seemed so far removed, so distant. Not since the phone call from the hospital had Rand’s leaving with Cora crossed her mind.

“I’m flying out early tomorrow morning. There’s no question of you accompanying me,” he said flatly, pulling his tie free and unfastening the top buttons of his shirt.

Was he referring to the pregnancy or her father? Karen was too weary to question him. “No, I suppose not,” she mumbled, feeling dejected and sad. Rand was leaving with Cora, and all the things Karen had so desperately wanted to have clear between them remained to trouble her. All her efforts to normalize their relationship had been thwarted.

Rand was waiting for her in the living room, relaxing, his head leaning back against the chair, listening to the classical music they both enjoyed.

She sat opposite him, wishing he was on the davenport so she could be closer. “I want to thank you for all you did to help my family,” she began, feeling awkward. “You were wonderful. None of us will ever forget it.”

Rand frowned; his mouth twisted in a taut line as if her words had displeased him. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done,” he told her flatly.

Karen looked around her; the welcome of her home had faded from the lack of warmth in her husband.

Rand was leaving in the morning. Nothing had been settled between them, and already the cold mask was slipping over her husband’s face. A knot tightened the tender muscles of her stomach.

“If you don’t mind, I … I think I’ll skip dinner and go to bed,” she added, hoping to hide the despair in her voice.

Rand shrugged noncommittally. “As you wish.”

Karen returned to the bedroom, feeling depressed and weary.

The gentle caress of Rand’s mouth woke her the next morning. The alarm had rung, sounding as if it’d come from a far-off distance, but that had seemed so long ago. Karen welcomed the warm touch as he rolled her over, his mouth seeking hers. Automatically, her lips parted, savoring his ardent kiss. Her silken arms wound around his neck as his hand slipped under her nightgown, capturing the rounded fullness of her breast.

Karen gave a muted groan; Rand hadn’t touched her like this since she’d told him about the baby. She was starving for his love and responded with all the hunger of weeks without him.

“I’ve got to go or miss the flight,” he murmured low in her ear as his other hand
stroked her exposed thigh.

“Can’t you stay a bit longer?” she questioned, drugged with desire. Unfastening his suit coat, her arms circled the broad expanse of his back, stroking, caressing, drawing him to her.

Rand’s mouth parted hers hungrily, and she clung to him, arching her back.

He groaned hoarsely. “I’ll catch another flight.”

Matthew was awake for Karen’s visit later that morning. He was pale and so weak that his smile was no more than a slight quiver at the corners of his mouth. He struggled to speak, frustrated until he managed one word.

“Bairn?”

Karen flashed him a proud smile, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she nodded. “A granddaughter, we’re hoping. Who told you?” He was unlikely to have remembered her frantic whisper that night.

Matthew rolled his head, indicating the nurse near his bed.

Mrs. Thomas looked away guiltily. “I hope you don’t mind my telling him, dear. He needed a bit of good news.”

Karen assured her it didn’t matter; she’d liked Mrs. Thomas immediately. The kind eyes and reassuring manner had done much to relieve Judy and Karen during the bleakest hours.

“I hope this dirty old man isn’t giving you problems,” the nurse said with a wink as she connected another IV bottle to the stand above Matthew’s head.

For an instant, angry fire sparked in her father’s eyes, and Karen smiled at the sight, strangely comforted by this small display of anger.

Rand phoned that evening to assure Karen he’d caught his flight and had arrived in Chicago safely. He sounded relaxed and less tense than she could remember since finding out about the baby. It was a little thing that showed her Rand was beginning to come to terms with her pregnancy. Their conversation lasted only a few minutes, but when Karen replaced the phone, she closed her eyes, confident for the first time things would work out between them.

Matthew was much more alert the next two days as his strength gradually returned. Karen’s visits remained short, and on several occasions she enjoyed the banter between her father and Mrs. Thomas. Their quick wits were well matched, and Matthew appeared to find solace from the tedious days in the good-humored teasing.

His first words to Karen the next morning were a plea for food. “Karen, lass, I’m starving to death. Will you see what you can do to get me off this sugar water and on to some real food?”

Even before Karen could assure him she would, Mrs. Thomas moved to his bedside.

“Feisty this morning, aren’t you?” she said, hands on her hips, her flashing blue eyes glaring at Matthew.

He lowered his brows disapprovingly. “How can a man be anything else when he’s near fainting from hunger? If you were any kind of a nurse, you’d see about getting me some food.”

“Listen here, you meager-witted, croaking toad. If you had any brains in that buffooned head of yours, you’d know none of the patients in the intensive care unit are allowed solid food. Be patient for once.”

“Meager-witted toad, is it? Well, you’re nothing more than a domineering battle-axe.”

“Dad!” Karen’s gaze bounced from one to the other. Mrs. Thomas’s eyes were sparkling with delight; she loved this teasing raillery. Her father’s mouth quivered with the effort to suppress a smile.

“Go tend your patients, nurse, but let it be known ye sorely task my temper.”

“Thirty years of nursing and I’ve yet to meet a more ill-mannered, ill-tempered man.” She continued to make busywork around Matthew’s bed, and meeting Karen’s eye, gave a girlish wink.

Karen’s gaze followed the older woman as she moved around in the large, open area. Catherine Thomas’s hair was completely white, and Karen guessed her age to be close to Matthew’s. The woman’s deep-blue eyes seemed to dance with mischief, and her smile was ready and warm. It was easy to picture this woman with her father; somehow it seemed right.

Rand telephoned from Kansas City the next evening and laughed as she related the scene between Matthew and Mrs. Thomas.

“It sounds to me like a little romance is brewing between those two.”

“I was thinking the same thing myself,” Karen confessed. “I’ve often wondered how I’d feel if Dad showed interest in another woman. I loved my mother so much, and Dad loving someone else is almost painful. But I like Catherine Thomas immensely. I wouldn’t feel bad at all if they got to know each other better.” The picture of the couple together brought a charmed smile to Karen’s face. “What a pair they’d be. Mrs. Thomas is barely five feet tall, and Dad’s well over six feet.”

“Karen, I don’t want you interfering with those two.”

“Randall Prescott, I wouldn’t!” She was surprised he would even make such a suggestion. Her back stiffened with resentment.