Wings Like Eagles

by Tracie Peterson

  “For the most beautiful bride,” Curt said with a note of appreciation in his voice for his bride-to-be.

  Christy had to take a deep breath to steady her nerves before she could continue. “What about the neckline and sleeves?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Debbie said thoughtfully. “What would you suggest?”

  Christy looked at the woman for a moment, then closed her eyes as if seeing the completed gown in her mind. “I think Juliet sleeves—poufed at the top with lace insets and fitted with lace to the wrist.”

  “Yes, I like that idea,” Debbie replied.

  “For the bodice, I would definitely suggest a sweetheart neckline. It will set off the basque waist and your natural assets,” Christy said, causing Curt to grin.

  “She has many natural assets,” he couldn’t resist throwing in.

  Christy ignored the playful tone and continued jotting down de-scriptions, with notes regarding the materials the bride wanted. Still refusing to look at Curt, Christy asked, “What about your groomsmen?”

  Curt’s deep velvety voice answered—just as Christy had been afraid he would. “What do you suggest, Christy?” he questioned, forcing Christy to either acknowledge him or appear rude.

  Slowly she lifted her face, and instead of meeting his eyes, she focused on his lips. Afterward, Christy would chide herself for the stupidity of this ingenious move.

  “Have you a style of tuxedo picked out?” she responded in a deliberately slow, even manner.

  Just then the phone rang, and the spell was broken. Christy quickly excused herself, picked up her portable phone, and moved to the balcony where she’d had breakfast.

  “Designs By Christy,” she announced.

  It was another of her clients, only this time the woman was nearly hysterical, and Christy was hard-pressed to understand her.

  “You want to cancel the gown then?” Christy asked hesitantly.

  The woman assured Christy from the other end of the line that she only wanted to postpone the gown’s completion. Christy grimaced. It was the second time Cheryl Fairchild had called to postpone her wedding plans.

  “Miss Fairchild, I can postpone the gown for you one more time, but after that, I’m afraid we’ll have to discontinue the arrangement. I have other clients, and I can’t jeopardize their plans just because yours continue to change.”

  Christy listened as Cheryl elaborated on her problems for a mo-ment and finally concluded by telling Christy that she would give her a five-thousand-dollar bonus for holding the completion until she was able to put her wedding plans back on track.

  Christy finally agreed. After all, five thousand dollars to do nothing but wait was too much money to pass up, and Cheryl Fairchild could well afford it, given the fact that she had recently inherited quite a fortune.

  Concluding the call, Christy found herself in a dilemma. Debbie and Curt would expect her decision when she returned. But how could she agree to take them on when Curt had such an effect on her? Still, she liked Debbie’s ideas and was already designing the most glorious gown in her mind. Finally Christy convinced herself that Curt wouldn’t be a part of the fittings and periodic visits and, therefore, shouldn’t even be a factor in her decision.

  Returning to the dining room, Christy made her decision. She would demand a hefty down payment, and if that was agreeable, she would take the job. Otherwise, Debbie and Curt could find another designer.

  “I’ve had a postponement,” Christy announced to Debbie and Curt. “Because of this, I will take you on as a client, but only if you are willing to pay half the cost up front, in cash. The lace alone will have to be special-ordered, and it may take some doing to locate the pattern you’ve described. Because of the lavish design, this gown will not be inexpensive, even by my standards.”

  “That isn’t a problem, I assure you,” Debbie said with a note of excitement to her voice. “We didn’t bring cash with us, but we can drop it off later today, if that meets with your approval. Would ten thousand dollars be enough to start?”

  Christy nearly paled at the casual way Debbie mentioned the amount. She was only going to ask for seven. Steadying herself, Christy nodded. “That will be fine.”

  Christy had no sooner seen Debbie and Curt out when the phone rang again. It was so typical of her daily routine. Rushing to answer it, Christy was relieved to hear the voice of her brother on the other end.

  “Erik, it’s good to hear from you,” Christy said.

  “Christy,” he began, “there’s been an accident.”

  “Candy?” she whispered. Her nightmare came back to haunt her.

  “Yes. She was driving up from Colorado Springs on the interstate. Somehow, she lost control of the car and crashed. They flew her up here about an hour ago. I just now found out.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “It’s bad, Christy. She’s still in surgery.”

  “What about the baby?”

  “I don’t know,” Erik answered honestly. “They haven’t told me much of anything, but I think you’d better get over here.”

  “I’m on my way.” Christy hung up the phone, still trembling from the shock. Without thought, she grabbed her purse and coat and went to the hospital.

  two

  Erik Connors met his sister in the emergency room and embraced her tightly. “They’re still working on her,” he whispered against her ear.

  When Christy pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “Won’t they tell you anything? For pity’s sake, Erik, you work here. Can’t you get one of your lab or physical therapy buddies to find out something?”

  “I tried, but nobody has the time to talk to them. She’s not good; that much I know.” Erik’s words hung over them like a shroud. “She nearly died on the way here.”

  Christy felt her knees buckle, but Erik quickly grabbed hold of her. “You’d better sit down,” he said and led her to a chair.

  “Was anyone else involved?” Christy finally asked.

  “No, the highway patrolman said it was a single-car accident. He said it was as though she blacked out or fell asleep and just lost control. There were no skid marks to show she’d applied the brakes or fought to regain control, so they’re pretty sure she was unconscious.”

  “What about Grant?” Christy inquired. Candy’s husband was often conspicuously absent, and this time seemed to be no different.

  “I couldn’t get hold of him,” Erik confessed. “I called the law office and their house. I tried everything I could think of, but he seems to be out of town or, at best, out of reach.”

  “Nothing new about that.” Christy’s voice told her brother she had no lost love for her brother-in-law.

  They waited in near silence for over five hours before the doctor summoned them to a private consultation room. Christy could tell by the look on his face that the news wouldn’t be good.

  “I am Dr. Edwards,” the man stated brusquely when they entered the room. He still wore his bloodstained scrubs beneath the open surgical coat. Christy recoiled at the realization that the blood belonged to her sister. “Have you been able to reach her husband?” the doctor questioned. When Christy and Erik both shook their heads, he continued, “I’m sorry I can’t give you good news. Your sister is barely holding onto life at this point. She sustained massive cranial injuries, and that, along with the tumor, doesn’t give us much hope for her recovery.”

  “Tumor?” Erik questioned. The look on Christy’s face revealed that she, too, had no idea of any tumor.

  The doctor’s brows knitted together. “Your sister has a massive, inoperable brain tumor. I presumed you knew.”

  “No,” Christy and Erik replied in unison.

  “It is most likely the reason she lost consciousness while driving,” Dr. Edwards continued. “I was fortunate enough to reach her doctor in Colorado Springs. It seems she’s known about the condition for some time but refused treatment because of the baby. Of course, this type of cancer doesn’t have a very high rate of treatment s
uccess. I’m sure your sister weighed this all very carefully against the fact that she wanted to keep from harming the fetus.”

  Christy could not have been more stunned. In one fell swoop, she had been told that not only was her sister barely alive, but even if she recovered from the accident, she would die from cancer.

  “What about the baby?” Erik finally managed to ask as he reached out to tightly grip Christy’s hand.

  “That’s the truly amazing thing, and possibly the only good news I can offer. The baby seems to be fine. We’ve had an obstetrical doctor and a pediatric specialist called in, and both conclude that everything looks good regarding the pregnancy.”

  “How can that be?” Christy questioned.

  “It’s hard to say,” the doctor replied. “She was wearing her seat belt—that seemed to protect her from being thrown around the car—but she had no air bag and her head hit the steering wheel repeatedly. As I said before, most of her injuries were cranial.”

  “When can we see her?” Erik asked, taking the words from Christy’s mouth.

  “Not very soon,” Dr. Edwards said with a gravity to his voice that moved Christy to tears. “She’ll be in intensive care when she leaves recovery, and I don’t want her to have visitors for at least twenty-four hours. If she makes it that long, we’ll take it from there.”

  “But I want to see her!” Christy exclaimed. “If she’s going to die anyway, what can it hurt?”

  The first real look of sympathy crossed the doctor’s face and then was gone. “I’m sorry, but your sister’s life and that of her baby are now in my hands, and I think it best that they remain undisturbed. I promise you that I’ll allow her visitors at the very first possible moment. Now, I have to get back to her.” With that, the doctor rose and left the room.

  Erik and Christy sat motionless for several minutes. The news had so paralyzed them that they could hardly conceive what should be done next.

  Christy glanced over to find Erik’s eyes closed in prayer. She wished she could pray, that she knew God like Erik did, but she didn’t.

  It was finally decided that Christy would return home and con-tinue to try to locate Grant. Erik had the day off from his work as a laboratory medical technologist, or med tech as they were called, but agreed that he knew the hospital routine best and would stay on and keep Christy posted as to changes in Candy’s condition.

  Christy tried in vain to locate Grant Burks. She hated him more than ever for not being around in Candy’s hour of need. Of course, she reminded herself, he never was there when Candy needed him. Prob-ably because he was busy with some other woman where no one could find him and point an accusing finger. Christy knew all about Grant’s other women.

  She doubted he had ever been faithful to her sister, but might not have believed him such an evil creature if she had not witnessed his infidelity firsthand. She could still remember the night Grant had come on to her at a birthday party for Candy. His whiskey-laden breath had brushed against her ear as he whispered suggestive things to her while Candy sat across the table, smiling in a loving way.

  No, Christy had no love for her brother-in-law. All she felt was a very deep contempt for the man who considered his marriage vows no more binding than the old familiar “check’s in the mail” adage.

  Finally giving up on locating Grant, Christy took herself outside to her favorite place of repose. The ancient-looking porch swing was the place she often sought comfort and refuge. Positioned on the backside of the house on the three-quarter wraparound porch, Christy knew it was the only place she wanted to be.

  The swing creaked and moaned as if in protest or greeting when Christy took her place. Leaning back in the old familiar arms of comfort, Christy let herself cry for the first time since hearing about Candy. The soft cries soon turned to pain-filled sobs, and Christy knew that she was hopelessly lost in her sorrow.

  Burying her face in her hands and then bending over to sob against her knees, Christy blocked out the world and the cruelty she knew it capable of. There was no hope. There was no comfort.

  Then, as if by magic, Christy felt strong, masculine arms surround her shoulders. The arms pulled her upward, and she started to recoil but had no strength with which to fight. Whoever he was, Christy needed him in the worst way. Rational thought left her mind as she clung to the man’s coat and drenched his chest with her tears.

  His methodical stroking of her hair caused Christy’s pain to ebb. She cried more quietly, and then the tears stopped altogether, followed by several minutes of shuddering gasps as she worked to control her emotions.

  The man still said nothing, and Christy was eternally grateful that he had maintained his silence. She knew she would be embarrassed when she learned his identity, but for now, she would take what she could to bolster her strength. When she finally stopped shaking, the man spoke.

  “Want to tell me about it?” Curt Kyle’s rich, deep voice questioned.

  Somehow, Christy was not all that surprised to recognize the voice. “My sister was in an accident this morning. She’s not going to make it,” Christy managed to whisper. She refused to give up her place of comfort against his chest, and Curt seemed in no hurry to be rid of her as he tightened his arms around her.

  “I’m truly sorry. I know what it is to have a tragic accident claim someone you love.”

  “You do?” Christy seemed surprised that they would share such a bond.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I lost my parents in an airplane crash.

  My little sister was nearly killed, as well. She was only sixteen at the time, and it was even harder on her.”

  “How awful!” After a pause, Christy continued, “I can’t find my sister’s husband, and she’s expecting a baby in another month. She’s only nineteen. How can this be happening? She’s just a kid.” Christy knew she was rambling, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  “My brother is at the hospital. He’s supposed to call me and let me know how she’s doing. I was supposed to come back here and find my brother-in-law, but true to form, he’s never around when she needs him.”

  Curt heard the bitterness in Christy’s voice and wondered if her anger was directed only at this man or all men. He began to run his hand up and down her arm. Christy had forgotten to wear her coat, and the January cold permeated her skin. “You’re going to freeze,” Curt said, feeling her begin to tremble again. “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”

  Christy reluctantly lifted her gaze. The eyes that had so hypnotized her held her fast. Her heart raced at such a pace that it nearly took her breath away.

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you here?” she questioned, feeling her guard go up.

  “I heard you crying, and you looked like you needed a friend. Do you need a friend, Christy?” he questioned so softly that she had to strain to pick up the words.

  “I don’t need anyone,” she replied in what sounded more like a whimper than anything else.

  “Spoken like a truly modern woman,” Curt said with a grin. “But, I’m unconvinced. Come inside, and I’ll make you coffee.”

  “You’ll make me coffee? In my own house?” Christy questioned.

  “Sure,” he answered and helped her to her feet. “Because

  I’m a thoroughly modern man, and I’m not intimidated by modern women and their ways.”

  Christy shook her head and backed away from the warm hands that still held tightly to hers. “You’re engaged to be married. Isn’t there any man in this world that recognizes the need for faithfulness?”

  Curt surprised her by laughing. “Christy, I just suggested I’d make some coffee. I don’t believe that infringes on my fidelity to Debbie.”

  Christy frowned. “I’m not talking about the coffee. I’m talking about the way you just held me. The way you touched me.”

  “And how did I hold you?”

  “I don’t know, it just seemed so…well,” Christy stammered for words.

  “Yes?”

  “It was intimate.�
� Yes, that was the word she was looking for. “It was too intimate.”

  Curt sobered and his eyes narrowed slightly, giving him an almost passionate look. “Has no one ever offered to hold you when you were sad, Christy?”

  Christy took another step back at the intensity of his stare. When she met the wall, she wanted to melt into the woodwork. “I don’t let people see me when I’m sad.”

  “Never?”

  “I don’t want the vulnerability,” she finally admitted. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I don’t usually act this way around strange men.”

  “I’m not strange, Christy. In fact, I’m probably more normal than most of the men you’ve known in your life.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” she countered. “I just meant that I don’t know you.”

  “Would you like to?”

  “There you go again. You’re about to be married. You should be concentrating your attentions on your fiancée.”

  “So I can’t make new friends, just because I’m engaged?”

  Christy sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, Curt.” Just saying his name caused her to tremble all the more.

  “Come on,” he said, reaching out to pull her along. “You need to get warm.”

  Christy refused to move, but Curt was undaunted. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms and laughed at the shocked expression on her face.

  “You’re heavier than you look,” he said with amusement in his voice.

  Christy’s mouth dropped open. “Put me down, right now.”

  Curt shook his head. “You aren’t that heavy. I was just trying to rile you.”

  “Put me down!”

  “Nope.”

  “Curt Kyle, I mean it.” She started to struggle, but Curt only tightened his grip and pulled her against him even closer.

  “The sooner you learn one thing about me, the better off you’ll be,” Curt said in a completely serious tone.

  “Oh? And just what would that one thing be?” Christy asked sarcastically.

  “I’m very persistent, and I get what I want,” he said, managing to shift her weight just enough to open the front door.