The Rescuer (13 page)

He was going to be an uncle. Stephen couldn't hold back a smile. That was enough of a mission for the near future. He would go back to Chicago, rejoin his family, and spend the next couple years spoiling the next generation of O'Mal eys. It felt like the right decision. For al the things Chicago lacked-good or bad-it was the place he thought of as home. He would be an exceptional y good uncle.

112

113

Stephen drove north into Il inois the morning of February 15, the sun bright in his eyes and his sunglasses a welcome shield. Snow remained on the roadsides and in patches beneath trees where the sun couldn't reach. Fields lay dormant „ for the winter, the ground covered with rows of short brown $ stalks from corn harvests the fal before. He had left the state in the heat of summer and was returning with the merest hint of pending spring.

He slipped in the fourth tape Meghan had made, enjoying the sound of her voice introducing the songs.

Occasional y he heard JoAnne on the tapes, laughing with Meghan in the background as the two of them selected songs.

No one knew he was coming today. It was a good tactical decision. He would open up his apartment, unload his groceries, do some laundry, then go make peace with Kate. Of al of his family, Kate was the one who read him best, who knew how close he was to not coming back.

He glanced at the huge rabbit in the passenger seat kept upright by a seat belt. It would get a laugh. Kate would probably hug him then playful y hit him, but it would at least break the ice. Lisa and her husband Quinn were in Montana; Marcus was in Washington; Rachel-he wasn't sure where she was. The last he heard she was traveling in Georgia for the Red Cross.

That left Jack as the only other O'Mal ey in Chicago, and finding him

114

would only require a stop at the fire station. The time would let Stephen ease back into the flow with family.

And after that?

Stephen chewed on a toothpick. Two of his remodeled homes were nearing their closing dates to the couples currently renting them. He'd have to make a decision about what property to rol the income into next. The realtor had thfe'e properties she thought he might like to look at. It would do for a short-term answer.

A semi loaded with new cars rol ed past. Stephen picked up the map. He would be home today. But before he got there, he had one stop to make.

SILVERTON

Meghan scrubbed the skil et and the two pans she had used as she hummed along to the song on the radio.

The kitchen was fil ed with the smel of baked lasagna and bubbling cheese. Dinner in exchange for Ken's help was a good deal. By nightfal her new home would be graced with a piano. Drying her hands, Meghan stopped to touch the timer and listen to the countdown.

Five more minutes. She didn't want the lasagna to bake completely, so she could finish it when Ken and JoAnne arrived.

She ran a hand along the edge of the counter and walked from the kitchen into the living room. This was her home. After years of dreaming, it was now reality.

Her things were on the counters, in the cupboards, placed so she would know exactly where they were.

The darkness was replaced with a certain knowledge of the rooms and where she had left items.

The spot on the wal for the upright piano was cleared.

She sized up the opening again and took a step back to mark how far out the bench would come. She would stil have three steps before she touched the side of the couch. Yes, this would work.

115

Furniture was always a hard thing to figure out. A few inches one way or the other and she would find herself either brushing into things or losing her exact sense of position in the room. The more cues to give her perspective in a room the better.

She hated the reality of the darkness she now lived in and always walking forward on trust for what was ahead of her. No one who had a fear of fal ing could survive being blind. This home would be her sanctuary.

She curled her bare toes into the warm carpet, able to tel the line in the room the sun had reached by the change in temperature. JoAnne said this room was white, bright, and lovely. Meghan loved that description.

Neil Coffer had blessed her by offering her the piano his wife had played for years. Live music would soon fil this house. Not very good music at first, but she made herself a long-term promise to learn to play.

Neil's wife had died this past September, succumbing to weakness in her lungs after a lingering case of pneumonia. Neil had been relieved his wife never reached the point that she needed to be placed in a nursing home. Her death was peaceful, and that was helping Neil cope with it more than anything else.

Over the past months Neil began slowly giving away things his wife valued. It mattered to him that her piano be used, and Meghan had heard relief in his voice when she accepted his offer. |l Music was one of the few things his wife held on to until her death, and the piano was special.

Meghan touched her watch and listened to the spoken time. There was time to stop by the bank before she went back to work. She was going to do a round of home fol ow-ups with Ashley this afternoon, then make a point of stopping by the jewelry store to see Neil.

She opened the front door. "Blackie, are you ready to go?" He wasn't at the front door waiting to come back in, which was a bit of a surprise as he had a habit of begging whenever she cooked.

116

"Hel o, Meghan."

Her hand tightened on the doorknob. "Stephen!" She leaned against the doorjamb and just let the pleasure of his presence settle inside. He was back. She knew this day was coming, but now that it was here... She laughed. "Where are you?"

She heard the sound of a jacket as he twisted.

"Seated on the bottom step of your porch saying hel o to ^5ur dog."

She moved that direction, putting out her hand and getting the reassuring grip of his closing around hers.

His hand was harder, stronger, and bigger than she remembered. Her memory had dul ed with the passing of time. "Are you coming or going from Chicago?" she asked, wondering what else her memories had softened or forgotten about this man.

"I'm moseying that direction. I figured I would return via the same path I left."

He drew her down to sit on the step beside him. He had been only a voice at the end of a phone line for months, and now he was in the flesh and his presence had substance. She was aware of his broad shoulders as she shared the step.

Blackie pushed against her free hand, wiggling in between the two of them to share the joy. Stephen laughed. "You're speechless."

She smiled. "You didn't mention you were coming here."

"And miss this moment?" His shoulder leaned against hers. "It's great to see you, Meg."

She tried to remember what she was wearing, hoping she hadn't spil ed lasagna fixings while making lunch, wishing like crazy that she'd at least had enough warning to brush her hair. "You'l have to take what you get then, because for the life of me, I don't know what I look like at the moment." He stil held her hand. She suddenly realized she was sitting outside in February, and though there wasn't snow on the steps, it was stil too close to winter. "And it's cold out here."

117

"You look as beautiful as ever, and the cold.. .1 can help with that. I brought you something." He released her hand and turned away. "Here you go. I'l put it on your lap."

"You brought me a jacket?"

"Sheep's wool inside and a nice golden brown leather on the outside."

She stroked the coat, finding the pockets and then the col ar. "It's so soft."

"I thought of you as soon as I saw it."

He took it and helped her put it on.

"Oh my." It was like slipping into a heated blanket.

Stephen turned up the col ar. "It's a popular jacket in North Dakota for a reason. It gets real y cold there."

"You shouldn't have."

"I know." She heard the smile in his voice. "I wanted to.

There are matching gloves."

She slipped them on and they were a perfect fit.

"Thank you, Stephen." She leaned over and hugged him hard, not only for the gift, but also for buying her mittens when he was fourteen. Hugging him hadn't been okay back then; she would have embarrassed him.

He rubbed her back. "You're very welcome. Ninety hours ago I was walking around in shirtsleeves in seventy-degree weather. I've been frozen since I crossed into the state. I'm remembering fast one of the reasons I left."

She laughed, hearing the old Stephen in his words and the tough edge of his humor. "Then why are we sitting out here?"

"The gift doesn't mean as much inside."

She looked around, feeling the slight breeze and the cold on her face. "We might be able to find enough snow to have a real y brief snowbal fight if you like, just to give you a taste of the winter you missed."

"Me? Toss a snowbal at a blind lady?"

118

She shoved him off the step.

"On second thought..." She heard him sit back up. "I missed you, Meg."

"Someone has been pampering you while you were gone."

"I gained a few pounds from the pies, cakes, and cookies offered. Speaking of which, something smel s good."

"Dinner!" Meghan surged to her feet.*

She yanked open the door and rushed through the house into the kitchen. She shut the oven off, then cracked the oven door to let the heat dissipate more quickly. Slipping off the jacket, she draped it over a chair, put the gloves on the table, and went to grab the hot pads.

"Everything okay?"

She set the hot dish down and closed the oven, aware her cheeks were flushed from the heat. "Ken and JoAnne are coming for dinner tonight. I thought I'd only partial y bake it now, but it definitely smel s done. Did the cheese overcook?"

"A nice golden brown on the edges. It wil warm okay."

"Good. Thank you. You're welcome to stay for dinner if you like. As you can see, there's plenty." Blackie nudged her left knee, letting her know he had joined her. She held down her hand and stroked his fur. He offered more than just comfort, he was warm, furry, and affectionate.

"I'd enjoy dinner, Meg, but I'd best take a rain check. I need to be back in Chicago in time to see Kate tonight. I hear she turns in early these days."

Her smile softened. "I hear that too. Pregnancy was a huge change to her system the first few months, and she's had it pretty rough. It wil be good for her to have you home."

"I'm looking forward to seeing her. I'm going to love being an uncle." She heard the floorboard creak as he moved away. "I like your new home."

She slipped her hands into her pockets, wishing she knew

119

what he looked like after months away. Her memories were a mix of days of a teenage crush and from five years ago when he was a paramedic. His voice was different now...older maybe, though it was much more than that. "Speaking of which, how did you find my house?"

"I stopped by and saw your father at the clinic and he gave me directions. Would you give me a tour of your new house? Maybe take a walk and show me your town? I can linger a couple hours before I need to head to the city."

If he could give her a couple hours, she would take it.

"Let me cal the office and tel them I won't be in for a while."

"Already done. Ashley said she could handle the two urgent fol ow-up visits and move the others to tomorrow."

"Oh, okay," she said, surprised that he'd made the arrangements for her.

"You could also tel me to come back another day.

We've been friends long enough I could probably take it."

She moved toward his voice, making a calculated guess where he was standing so she could invade his space but not run into him. She heard his half step back as she reached him, indicating she had guessed it nght. She smiled privately as she lifted her hand to touch his jacket. Worn leather, aged, and comfortable to her touch. She had a feeling it was the same jacket she'd often tossed in the back of her car after he left it in the hospital employee lounge.

She wanted to grip it and hold on to that fleeting vivid flashback so she could see it. The memory shook her and her words didn't have the sassy fun tone she had planned but huskiness. "A brief tour of the house, and then we take a walk," she offered. "I've got one errand I need to do before I take the rest of the day off."

His hands settled on her shoulders. "Deal." He squeezed lightly then stepped back. She heard him pick up the jacket he

120

had given her and the gloves. "You once cal ed this your dream house. Why?"

She nodded toward the living room and he moved that direction. She fol owed him. "When 1 was in high school, I used to babysit for the people who lived here.

I fel in love with the big bay windows and the sunlight in this room. They had a rocking chair.. .right here, and the sun during the summer months made it a cozy place to sit. When Jessie fussed I'd rock her in the chair and she'd always fal asleep. It was my chair, you know? My place. And I'd sit here rocking her, looking around the room, and think this place was so peaceful, the perfect home."

"Making it a dream."

She nodded. "I had it al planned when I was sixteen: married, kids, working for my dad, and living in this house." She thought of that dream, stil wistful about how simple it was in those days, and turned to smile his direction. "I'l find the perfect rocking chair soon."

"What goes there on the east wal ?"

Her joy fed her smile. "Ken is bringing my piano tonight."

"I didn't know you played."

"I'm taking piano lessons. Mrs. Teal sees me as a creative chal enge. She's a great teacher. A few of her students have gone on to great things-Theresa is working in Hol ywood composing original music for movies, and Jonathan is now in Europe playing with the London symphony and recording. I have a smal goal, but the church needs a pianist next winter when the Carlsons go to Florida, and I want to know a few songs wel enough to be able to play some Sundays."

"You wil make a real y good pianist; I already know it."

"I want to try. The music is mine, you know? That's the one thing that is the same before and after the blindness."