The front door flew open, and Dahlia ran onto the wooden porch.
Poor baby. Maggie’s heart lurched, and she took quick steps toward her niece. The ten-year-old had grown taller and slimmer since their last visit a few months ago. Hair still hung straight like her mother’s. Luckily. And she was holding...a smaller child? Maggie blinked hard to confirm what she was seeing. Why would Dahlia have what looked to be a three-year-old boy?
“Hey, sweetie.” Maggie climbed the four steps to the porch and wrapped Dahlia in an embrace. “I’ve missed you. Who’s this?” Maggie studied the boy’s enormous blue eyes gazing up at her.
Oddly familiar blue eyes.
“His name’s J.D., and he’s getting heavy.” Dahlia held him toward Maggie, and his freckled cheeks spread in a tentative smile.
She scooped the child into her arms and onto her hip, studying him closer.
“That’s why I needed your help.” Dahlia coughed and wiped her dimpled cheeks, her eyes red from crying. “I should be able to stay by myself, even though Mama never lets me, but he’s a handful. Usually the three of us tag team, but when Mama...” Her niece’s voice quivered.
“Come on. Let’s go inside.” Maggie laced her free arm across Dahlia’s thin shoulders. “I’ll take care of everything.” Or die trying.
“What’s wrong with your hair?” J.D. grabbed a chunk of her curls into his fist. "It’s all bent up.”
The question she’d asked her entire life. “I inherited these unruly coils from my Cajun grandmother, Delphine Boudreaux.” Too bad she’d inherited her hips from Grandma Marovich. She followed Dahlia through the entrance hall into the living room, which was more like an antique store itself, and they took a seat on the red camelback couch. So many memories surrounded her. The Flow Blue china collection on every flat surface. Ornate gold frames displaying pictures of her and Cammie, more of Mom and Dad. She breathed in the smell of home and let it settle deep inside her chest, where it wound through shadows and emotions she’d bound up over a decade ago.
“What’s ’herited?” The boy’s voice reeled her back as he twirled her hair round and round on his index finger.
“It’s when you look like your mom or dad.”
His big eyes widened. “I look like Daddy.”
Talking to the boy was sweet, but she needed to get the scoop on her sister’s accident and take action. Maggie glanced at her niece. “Speaking of, where are J.D.’s parents, and what’s happened to your mom? Where’s Aunt Ruth? Why were you out of school so early?”
Tears welled up and leaked out onto Dahlia’s cheeks. “Mama checked me out of school to watch J.D.’s Thanksgiving play. She let us come back to the store with her afterward. We were doing a puzzle behind the counter while she went to the delivery entrance. A truck backed into Mama outside the store. An ambulance came, and Aunt Ruth sent me home so she could follow them in the car. I put the Closed sign in the window and walked here with J.D.”
Aunt Ruth drove? The eighty-five-year old couldn’t see a yacht in a baby pool. And she let Dahlia walk home with a three-year old? Ten wasn’t old enough to stay alone in the first place, despite Dahlia’s ideas to the contrary. Of course, her little family didn’t have anyone else nearby—all of their cousins lived in Louisiana. But a customer or friend might’ve helped. Aunt Ruth couldn’t have been thinking clearly.
Maggie sighed. At least the house was only two blocks from the store.
“What hospital? Have you heard anything?”
“Mama might need surgery on her back. I...I can’t remember...”
Cold fear rooted and took hold in Maggie’s chest. Back injuries could be serious. Would she be able to evacuate them all with Cammie injured? Another tug on her hair brought her gaze down to J.D. Who’d take care of this child? And why were they keeping him in the first place?
Maggie pasted on a calm expression. “Don’t worry. I’ll find her.” But Aunt Ruth must’ve had her phone on silent again. Maggie had tried to get her a dozen times since Dahlia first called. “What time does J.D. get picked up?”
“Not until Mr. Josh comes in from the ship.”
Josh?
J.D.
Not as in Joshua David Bergeron?
Maggie’s pulse throbbed in her ears as she stared at J.D. No wonder she recognized those eyes. They were the exact sky-blue color eyes of the boy she’d grown up with, fallen in love with...and tried to forget. The stubborn man had insisted on following in her father’s footsteps to become a river bar pilot, even after the storm. Nothing would change his mind. And she wouldn’t change her mind about being with someone she’d likely lose to the Gulf. She refused to relive that agony.
“How long have you been babysitting J.D.?” Cammie hadn’t bothered to mention this new development the last time they’d talked.
“Since they moved in next door...like six months ago. We keep him every two weeks. Mama was gonna tell you, but she kept putting it off. Aunt Ruth said she needed to hurry up.”
A rather huge omission. And next door? “Next door, as in they live in the house beside this one?”
“Duh, Aunt Maggie. That’s what next door is.”
Already a smart aleck at ten. She and her niece grew more and more alike.
But where was J.D.’s mother? And why wasn’t she keeping her own child? Maggie’s chest tightened. Now she’d be forced to call him. So maddening. They hadn’t spoken since their breakup. And she’d hoped to keep it that way.
First she’d check on Cammie, though. She stared at the little boy beside her.
Lord, help me if I have to see Josh. Seeing his child is tough enough.
Despite over a decade of trying to forget the man, Josh still haunted the vacant corners of her heart.
ONCE HE’D FINISHED the delivery of the ship and made it safely back to his own boat, Josh sank into a seat in the center of the passenger area and closed his eyes while his partner, Graham, piloted them back to base. The waves still rocked the smaller vessel, but not nearly as much as they had earlier in the day. He’d had a close call.
Thank you, Lord, for keeping me safe.
His hand slipped to his pocket, and he switched his phone back on. It chirped over and over. He stared at it. Cammie’s number. Tendrils of anxiety roped around his midsection. Was something wrong with J.D.? She rarely called him until the evenings when she let J.D. talk to him. Josh touched the contact number to call back.
“Hello, Josh.” The voice slammed him like a punch to his stomach. Not Cammie.
This tone was low and strong, yet sultry. The slight Cajun accent. Maggie. That voice that could gut him from miles away, even after all this time.
Words froze in his throat.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“Why do you have Cammie’s phone?”
“We’re in a crisis, and you need to get back here ASAP.”
Fear clawed at him now, shredding his composure. “Is J.D. okay? What’s happened?” His voice cracked.
“Your son is fine.” Her tone softened for half a second. “Cammie’s injured her vertebrae. Some delivery guy wasn’t paying attention and hit reverse instead of drive. Knocked into her hard.”
“Oh, Maggie. I’m sorry.” Though thankful J.D was safe, his stomach still sank. Maggie’s family had been through too much already. Lost so much already. His gaze traveled to the window, past the American flag whipping in the wind, to the gales rocking the murky water before them. Somewhere in the depths, her father had been buried.
“Yeah. Me, too.” A wistfulness carried over the distance, snagging his heart. “Is there someone else here who could pick up J.D.?”
Apparently she didn’t keep up with his personal life. Which, given the way his ex-wife had dumped him, maybe was best. It was embarrassing enough looking like a failure to the people who knew. “I’ll leave as soon as we reach Venice.” Too bad they weren’t already back.
“Really?” The sharpness returned. “They’ve still got y’all out in this wind? An
d there’s a hurricane entering the Gulf as we speak.”
“We’re fine, Maggie. That storm’s days away.” He could picture the fire in those chocolate eyes framed with the longest black lashes he’d ever seen, wild curls falling down her shoulders.
“Right.” A dramatic sigh crossed the airwaves. “So, a few hours?”
As fast as he could. Did the woman want him to jump ship and start swimming that way? He shook his head and held in the sarcasm. He wouldn’t dare say something like that to her. “Yes, ma’am. See you in a few. Promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Joshua Bergeron.”
Abruptly, the call ended. A lot like the way their relationship had ended years before.
Chapter 3
MAGGIE CHECKED THE weather on her cell. Again.
No change.
She shifted her gaze to J.D. Three-year-old boys and waiting rooms went together about as well as an ice storm at the beach, but she’d had little choice.
It had only taken her a minute at Aunt Ruth’s house to unload, and they’d raced to the hospital. Of course, with Josh driving in from Louisiana, she’d had to bring the boy. She’d corralled him with a coloring book from the gift shop—the third trip they’d made since arriving at the hospital. Frustration had already claimed a huge chunk of her minuscule patience when she’d had to figure out how to get the booster contraption into her car and J.D. fastened in it. Snarky comments from a ten-year-old girl hadn’t helped. When had her sweet Dahlia turned into a sassy preteen? Add a few more hormones, and her niece might refuse to be seen in public with any of them. And that might be okay for a while.
“I can’t hear this thing.” Aunt Ruth ambled over to the television positioned in the corner of the brightly-lit room and adjusted the volume. It blasted out an old episode of Walker, Texas Ranger. Obviously, more than her aunt’s sight was dwindling. Explained the missed phone calls. They may need to bring earplugs for the other families in the waiting area.
The hospital’s smell of antiseptic and something stale reawakened a sense of sorrow. She’d spent many days and nights with her mother in the Jackson hospital and the cancer center. Had even flown to a couple of other medical clinics for second opinions. In the end...
No. She couldn’t retrace that journey. This was different.
It had to be.
But, they’d waited hours already. And Cammie had been in surgery before their arrival. Couldn’t be good news.
Lord, be with her, heal her. Don’t take her.
“Miss Maggie?” The little voice summoned her attention.
“Yes, J.D.” She ran her fingers through his silky hair the color of sand. A bit lighter, but almost the same shade as Josh’s had been the last time she’d seen him.
“I gotta go potty.”
“Sure. You remember, the bathroom’s right here.” She pointed at the door straight in front of them. They’d picked these specific seats strategically. “You went earlier, and we left the light on.”
“Not like that. My tummy hurts, and I need help.”
“Wait. What?” Josh would have a good laugh if he heard about this. He always did love to tease her...get her riled up. Then sweet talk her into laughing, too. A laugh she’d missed. She held in a groan and pushed the thought away.
Amusement crinkled Dahlia’s nose as she snorted. “Go, Aunt Maggie.” Dahlia would, no doubt, love to tell Josh all about her blunders today. “You’re supposed to be tough, right?”
“Who said that?” Maggie frowned. A tad feisty, but that had nothing to do with this situation. She liked breathing fresh air.
J.D.’s bottom lip poked out. “Miss Cammie always helps me.”
“If Cammie can do it, I can. Let’s go.” Cammie owed her big-time when she got well. Josh, too, but she’d rather not collect any favors from him. Other than him moving and staying away from them all.
What seemed like an hour later, Maggie escaped the small bathroom. If the kid wasn’t so stinkin’ cute, she’d swear off children forever. Although the probability of having any of her own was slim to none.
That familiar vacant gnawing clawed at her throat. All of her college friends had married and moved on with their lives, but she’d never found that someone to make her feel like...home.
Apparently Josh had. But where was the woman?
“I’m hungry.” J.D. again.
Of course he was hungry now. Maggie glanced at Aunt Ruth and Dahlia. They’d forgotten to eat a real supper with all the chaos—only snacking from the vending machines. “As soon as the doctor comes in, we’ll go for dinner. I have more Hot Tamales in my purse until then.” Not that giving candy to a kid stuck in a small area was a good idea. She didn’t know much about kids, but that’s what she’d heard from her coworker, Jane. The dropping barometric pressure must’ve been muddling her judgement, but she handed him the box of candy anyway.
The door swung open. Some maternal instinct took over, and she swept J.D. up in her arms.
A thirtyish dark-haired man in blue scrubs entered. “Family of Camelia Marovich?”
Maggie stood. Was he the doctor? He hardly looked old enough to be a specialist. “I’m her sister, Maggie. What’s the news on Cammie’s back?”
The doctor’s gaze flitted to Dahlia and Aunt Ruth. “And they are?”
“Oh, this is Cammie’s daughter, Dahlia, and our great aunt, Ruth.”
He eyed each one of them...seemingly contemplating.
Was that a bad sign? Had to be. Tingles crawled down her scalp.
“I’m Dr. Castro.” He stepped further into the room and studied Dahlia. “Can your great aunt Ruth take you and your brother to the nurse’s desk? Tell them I said to give you some of my ice cream sandwiches to eat in the break room.”
“He’s not my brother.” Dahlia’s face screwed into a frown. “And I’m ten. You can give me the bad news.”
Maggie let her eyes shut for a long moment, then opened them and shot her niece a stern but compassionate look. “Dahlia.” She stood J.D. on his feet.
Her niece let out a long dramatic sigh. “Yes, sir.” Dahlia trudged over and took the boy by the hand. “Let’s go get a treat.” She motioned to Aunt Ruth, speaking loudly and with exacting lip movements. “Come with me and J.D. They think I’m too young to do anything alone.”
Once they’d cleared the area, Dr. Castro shook his head. “Starts early these days. I’ve got one at home. Let’s go into the conference room.”
She followed him into the small, bland area, and he shut the door. He offered her a chair and took a deep breath as if dreading what he was about to say. “Cammie took a hard hit, and her lower spine was injured.” He held out pictures and lifted some x-rays over a light. He spoke of vertebrae and lumbar and sacral areas, scores on some tests that were named with abbreviations she’d never heard of...fractures and fragments.
Staring at the pictures of Cammie’s spine, Maggie’s brain fogged. Her eyes burned.
“She’s awake, and right now,” the doctor continued, “she has no feeling below the waist, but with time, we hope the swelling will lessen and movement will be restored.”
That popped her eyes open. “No feeling? As in paralyzed? For how long?”
“We don’t know how long yet. She’s in the ICU. I’ll take you back to see her for a few minutes, but visiting hours are limited, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for the others to come right away. Do you have any questions?”
The constriction in Maggie’s throat made it difficult to breathe, much less think or speak. Cammie paralyzed? She shook her head and stood, willed her feet to follow him from the room. The doctor pressed a code at the entrance to the ICU.
Once the door opened, they traversed a hall of windowed rooms. Dread and curiosity drew her gaze. She couldn’t help peeking into a few of them. Some of the patients had pictures and drawings taped to the walls. How long had those families been waiting for healing?
Maggie’s feet grew heavier. Each footfall sounded lik
e a clap of thunder in her ears. At last, they entered a room filled with machines. All attached to her sister. Angry red scrapes carved across the right side of Cammie’s face. Dark purple bruises, too. Her straight, honey-brown hair spread, tangled and matted, on the small pillow.
Icy terror encased Maggie’s heart. “Oh, God, help us.” She breathed out the whispered prayer.
The doctor stood near but didn’t speak.
Cammie’s eyes fluttered open. “Maggie?”
“I’m here.” Maggie moved quickly to the bedside.
“Dahlia? J.D.?” The words came out raspy.
“They’re fine.” She kept her tone strong and much more confident than she felt. “I’m taking good care of them.”
“The store? We have to stay open.” Cammie’s brows knitted together. “Christmas inventory... Thanksgiving sale.”
Always so worried about Aunt Ruth’s business. Maggie’s lips pinched. Probably what got her into this mess in the first place. If only they’d move to Jackson, she could help more with Aunt Ruth and Dahlia. Cammie could work normal office hours.
“I need this.” Cammie’s eyes pleaded.
Like she would say no to her only sister while she lay in a hospital bed. “I have plenty of leave, and it’s almost Thanksgiving anyway, so don’t fret about the store. I’ll handle it.” Or sell the place and get all five of them out of here before another storm hit.
Not five.
J.D. was Josh’s problem.
Okay, not a problem, but a responsibility. An adorable, blue-eyed responsibility.
The relief on Cammie’s face made the promise to stay longer almost worth the cost, but dread remained in the pit of Maggie’s stomach. The storm still brewed in the Gulf. And Cammie was paralyzed.
The young doctor patted Cammie’s hand and explained what he’d already told Maggie. “Best case scenario will be the return of leg strength to functional level with no limitations, and possibly some mild residual numbness or tingling in the legs.” He paused and glanced back and forth between Maggie and Cammie.
Magnolia Storms Page 2
