The Heavenly Fugitive (18 page)

“Is it all right if I get a horse and ride with you?” he asked.

“That’d be fine.”

Phil chose the big bay that carried his weight well, and soon the two of them rode out across the Morino estate as the sun was going down. Only birdsong and the rustling of leaves broke the silence between them. It was a peaceful evening, but Phil found conversation hard going. He tried to get Rosa to speak about what she was doing, but she answered only in brief replies.

Finally he said, “I’ve got a new job, Rosa. I’ve been wanting to tell you about it.”

She turned toward him quickly. “What kind of a job? I thought you were going to go to law school.”

“Well, actually I’m going to do both. I have a distant relative named Lee Novak. He works for the justice department.”

“So you’ll be working for the government?” Rosa said uncertainly.

“Well, mostly for Lee. As his assistant. But the good thing is, Rosa, I get a full scholarship to law school.”

Rosa suddenly brightened. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I know how badly you want to go.”

“Well, it just dropped into my lap, and I’m very happy about it. I’ll start in the fall.”

Rosa pulled Boadicea up to a halt and reached out her hand. “Congratulations, Phil. I know you’ll do as well in law school as you did in college.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m thankful to the Lord for it. I think He’s put it in my way.”

At the mention of God, Rosa released her hand. She knew God was big in this young man’s life, while to her religion played a very small role.

Phil sensed her sudden reticence and said quickly, “I work pretty hard, but we could go out together once in a while, or I could come ride with you perhaps. Would you like that?”

“That would be nice. . . .” she said, a twinge of hope in her eyes. Then she lowered her gaze and went on quickly, “But I don’t suppose you’ll have much time for that.”

Phil knew Rosa was unhappy, and he could not help thinking about their last meeting. He had thought often of her kiss, and it still stirred him to remember it. Looking at her now, he saw that her face was set, and throughout the rest of the ride she said almost nothing. Finally, when they dismounted back at the stables, she said curtly, “Good-bye, Phil.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

“I doubt it. You’ll be very busy.”

Phil watched her as she led Boadicea away, and a stable hand came to take the bay. As Phil got into his car, he felt frustrated. “That wasn’t very pleasant,” he muttered. “I’m afraid she’s still angry with me.”

****

Rosa was indeed unhappy. She had thought about Phil’s kiss many times, and she was certain she was in love with him. She was also certain he did not return that love, that he still thought of her as a child. She moped around the next few days with little laughter about her.

Her father noticed this and finally said, “What’s the matter with you, Rosa? You don’t look happy.”

“Nothing. I’m fine, Daddy.”

Big Tony studied his daughter. The time he had been dreading for years was upon him; soon she would take a man and leave home. He finally said, “Are you serious about any of these young fellows that come around?”

“No, not really.”

Suddenly Tony remembered that Dominic had mentioned having seen Rosa riding with Phil Winslow. “It’s not Winslow, is it? You’re not serious about him, are you?”

“No.”

“What’s he doing? Is he still in college?”

“No, he’s graduated. He’s working for the justice department, and next fall he’s going to go to law school.”

Tony Morino’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. His voice grew tense. “So he’s working for the feds, huh? I want you to stay away from him, Rosa, you hear? It can’t come to any good for us. We’re on opposite sides of the fence now.”

“But, Daddy—”

“I’ve given you everything you ever wanted, but I’m telling you, stay away from Winslow.”

Rosa did not answer. The tears were not far away, and she turned and fled from his study.

Tony called out, “I’m sorry, Rosa, but it has to be that way.” He knew his words had hurt her, but he shook his head. “She’ll get over him. She has to. We don’t need a guy like that hanging around here.”

CHAPTER NINE

Passing

Amelia stepped into her apartment and heaved a sigh of relief. Putting her suitcase down, she closed the door, then walked around, happy to be back. She had returned from a two-week engagement in Miami, and although it had been a triumph of sorts, she was drained of energy. She set about unpacking her suitcase, sorting out the clothes that needed washing, and then went to the phone. She called Phil’s work number but only got a secretary, who informed her that Mr. Winslow was out and would not be expected back until late.

Amelia was disappointed, for she had hoped to spend the evening with Phil. It was early yet, not much past one, so she decided she would spend the afternoon and perhaps the evening with her grandmother. First she took a long, leisurely bath, filling up the tub and adding a fragrant bubble bath. As she lay there relaxing and soaking up the warmth, she went back in her mind over the events of the past two weeks. She had been so well received in Florida it had astonished her.

Of course, there were the usual lounge lizards who pursued her, but she had learned their species well and avoided them. Most of them wore their hair plastered back with oil and affected the latest fashions. All of them had a predatory gleam in their eyes no matter how smooth their speech, and as she lifted her leg and scrubbed it with a brush, she had a brief moment of distaste for those men.

But there had been others who were genuinely appreciative. She had met Mel Thompson, who was involved with the
new Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios in some way she did not quite understand. He had urged her to think about coming to Hollywood. She had been polite enough but had shown little interest. She had seen enough of movie making to know that all one did was film one scene at a time and not necessarily in order. The last scene of a movie might be filmed first, and something in the middle might be held over until last. That did not appeal to her as much as giving live performances on stage. She especially hoped someday to star in musicals.

Finally she finished her bath, dried off, and dressed. She had many dresses now, more than she actually needed. She slipped into her undergarments, then put on a simple straight dress with a low waistline, the skirt falling just below her knees. She put on her shoes, which had a bar-and-button fastening, then a silk cloche hat. She picked up her purse and called a cab. It was a luxury being able to use the cab service, and when the cab came within five minutes, she locked the door and left. The drive was pleasant, although warm. September had been hot in New York, but not as sultry as Amelia remembered it in Africa. She leaned back and, being rather sleepy, dozed off, awakening only when the driver said, “Here we are, miss.”

With a start Amelia opened her eyes and fumbled in her purse. She paid the driver, adding a generous tip, and then got out of the cab. She walked up the steps and rang the bell. Almost at once a woman in a nurse’s uniform answered, saying, “Yes, can I help you?”

“I’m Amelia Winslow, Mrs. Winslow’s granddaughter.”

“Come in, please. My name’s Lily Stockman. I’ve been on duty here for three days.”

Alarm ran through Amelia, and she turned quickly to the nurse, a tall woman with blond hair and very light blue eyes, obviously of Swedish extraction. “My grandmother’s been ill that long?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What is it?”

Nurse Stockman hesitated. “She’s had some heart problems.”

“A heart attack?” Amelia demanded.

“I’d rather you talk to Dr. Locke. He can tell you much more than I can.”

“Is he here?”

“No, but he’ll be by this afternoon at four o’clock.”

Amelia stood irresolutely, a trace of fear racing through her. “Is it serious, Nurse?”

“She’s very weak. Dr. Locke is concerned and so am I.”

“May I see her?”

“Oh yes. I just finished giving her a bath. Dr. Locke said to keep her very quiet, and I know you wouldn’t do anything to excite her.”

“Of course not.”

Amelia followed the nurse upstairs and entered the bedroom, determined to let nothing show on her face. When she saw that her grandmother was awake, she said, “Grandmother, what’s all this? You know I don’t permit you to be sick.” Approaching the bed, she leaned over and kissed the sick woman’s cheek, then pulled up the chair and sat down beside her. Holding the thin hand in both of hers, she said, “I’m sorry. You should have had somebody call me.”

Lola smiled faintly. “I knew you were in Florida. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me! I’d like to cut a switch to you.” Amelia forced herself to be as cheerful as possible, but she was direly alarmed about her grandmother’s condition. Lola had lost weight and seemed much more fragile than the last time Amelia had seen her. She lay very still with her eyes open, but the eyes were the only sign of life. They were still alert, and when Lola asked Amelia to tell about her trip, she spoke about it cheerfully. Finally Amelia ran out of things to say, and she simply sat there holding her grandmother’s hand. The ticking of the grandfather clock to her left sounded to Amelia like a solemn incantation. The light slanted down through the tall,
mullioned windows, lighting up the dusky carpet. Millions of dust motes danced in its beams and formed gossamer shapes as they swarmed in the yellow light.

Amelia felt uncomfortable and wished the doctor would come to give her the news. She knew it would not be good—she could see that for herself—but she wanted to know what could be done.

After a period of silence, Lola turned her head on the pillow and asked, “How are things with you, my dear?”

It seemed an innocent enough question, one that could be asked under many circumstances. But somehow Amelia knew that her grandmother’s question was not an idle one. She felt the power of her grandmother’s gaze, as weak as the woman was, and dropped her head for a moment, thinking how she might answer. Finally she answered the question honestly, although she had not intended to. “I’m not what I ought to be, Grandmother.” She lifted her eyes and saw the compassion and love in the gaze that met hers, and then it all came out. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what I want. I’m making a lot of money, and people seem to like my singing, but somehow when I’m alone at night, I know this isn’t enough.” She talked on, for the first time ever revealing the doubt and fear and uncertainty that had plagued her. She had learned to camouflage these feelings and even hide them from herself, but now somehow they came pouring out.

Lola Winslow did not speak for a moment, but she squeezed Amelia’s hand and whispered, “You’ve lost your way, but you will find it again. Jesus will never let you go. You have seen too many lives invested in eternity, my dear Amelia, and you know that in the end, that’s what you must do.”

Hot tears stung Amelia’s eyes, and she dropped her head and bit her lip. When she looked up, her grandmother’s eyes were closed. Her breathing was very shallow, and Amelia silently held the frail hand for a long time.

****

“I can’t offer you much hope, Miss Winslow.” Dr. Locke was a tall, powerfully built man of some fifty years, with a gray beard and salt-and-pepper hair. He had a pair of direct gray eyes, but his voice was gentle. “She’s been a great favorite of mine. I’ve been the family doctor now for over twenty years, and God knows I would do anything I could to help her.”

The words struck Amelia like a blow. “You mean,” she whispered, “you can’t do anything at all, Dr. Locke?”

“I’d like to say that I could, and there are miracles. I believe that God raises people up miraculously when we doctors have failed, but unless God intervenes, we will have to say good-bye to your grandmother.”

Amelia could not speak for a moment. Her throat was thick, and she knew one more word would bring the tears rushing from her eyes. Finally she said, “She wants to go, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does.” Dr. Locke nodded. “She wants to be with your grandfather and with the Lord.” He reached out and took her hand and held it for a moment. “You love her very much, don’t you?”

“Not as much as I should have.” And then in a sudden burst of honesty, she said, “I haven’t been what I should, Dr. Locke. I haven’t brought her much happiness.”

The doctor’s hand closed upon Amelia’s, and he said quietly, “She loves you very much. She told me just yesterday how she believed God was going to answer her prayers. She said that she and Mark used to pray for you every day, and now she has continued by herself.”

“Thank you for being honest, Doctor. How much time do you think she has? I’d like to wire my father and my uncle Barney. They’d want to be here.”

“I’ve already done that,” Dr. Locke said. “But unfortunately both of them are off on an extended journey into the interior. They’re not expected back for at least two weeks,
and there’s no way to reach them. I think they are going to a tribe that has never heard the Gospel before.” He paused then and gnawed his lower lip. “I don’t want to be unduly pessimistic, but it could take them a month to get here, and it’s unlikely she will last out the week.”

****

Phil was standing at the window looking out. For the past four days he and Amelia had lived at the Winslow house. Phil had simply told his professors and Lee Novak the circumstances, and they had all been quite considerate. Dr. Franz, his favorite professor, had put his hand on Phil’s shoulder, saying, “Go, my boy, be with your grandmother. I’ll help you when you come back.”

Lee had been even gentler and more helpful. He had come himself twice a day to check on Lola and sit beside her. He had said to Phil, “I hope when I go, I can be as close to the Lord as she is. She loves Jesus more than any woman I ever saw, except maybe my mother.”

Now Phil turned from the window and began pacing the floor. Amelia, sitting in a plush chair, watched him. She was very tired, yet it had still been difficult for her to sleep. She had not realized how deep her affection for her grandmother had become. She missed her grandfather, but with her grandmother nearing death, she felt that part of her world was being taken away, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.