Christy rolled her eyes. “Did Debbie like it?”
“Debbie?”
“Yes, you remember Debbie, don’t you? The woman you’re supposed to marry and all that wedding stuff?”
“Debbie thought you looked fantastic. She remembered your covers from before, while I didn’t have much experience with women’s fashion magazines. In fact, I probably had my head in the clouds, literally, when you were posing for those pictures.”
“I don’t understand.” Christy shifted to put a little more distance between herself and Curt. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m a pilot. I used to fly a lot,” Curt answered, realizing that he shouldn’t say too much. Hoping to change the direction of the conversation, Curt moved the subject back to his visit several days earlier. “Look, I really did come here to apologize. Somehow I gave you the wrong impression the other day, and I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”
“How gallant of you,” Christy murmured sarcastically.
“I try,” Curt replied, refusing to be insulted. “I can’t help it.”
“Huh?” Christy’s confusion was evident.
“When I’m around you, I just kind of forget myself. I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Christy Connors. You aren’t mad at me anymore, are you?” Curt asked softly.
Christy sat stiffly, refusing to look at him. “I would never be mad at a client for getting lost in my house while looking for the bathroom.”
Curt realized her game. “What about when the client made the mistake of touching you? Would you be mad at him then?” He reached his hand out and turned her face to meet his.
Christy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m not mad,” she breathed the words.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“You. Me,” Christy managed to say. “This whole thing between us. It’s inappropriate. You’re a client, and to let you become anything more places my business at risk.”
Curt smiled. “You falling in love with me, Christy?”
Christy’s breath caught in her throat. Curt watched her closely, hardly daring to believe what he saw in her eyes. The realization that he may well have touched on the truth was just starting to register when the telephone rang. Christy jumped up so quickly that he could only stare after her in surprise.
“Hello?” Christy answered the phone rather breathlessly. “Yes, I’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone and turned with a look of complete hopelessness to Curt.
“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” he said simply.
eight
The cold sterile hospital halls and the smell of antiseptic clean-liness made Christy nauseous. She hadn’t realized until this moment just how much she hated hospitals.
Curt had put his arm around her the minute they’d walked into the building and he hadn’t volunteered to remove it, even after riding the elevator up to the intensive care ward. Christy wasn’t inclined to ask him to remove it.
Erik greeted Christy and extended his hand to the man who so familiarly held his older sister. “I’m Erik Connors.”
“Curt Kyle. How’s Candy doing?” he asked, taking the question right out of Christy’s mouth.
“She’s asking for Christy,” Erik admitted. “I think you’d better go right in. Oh, and stop by the nurse’s desk. You have to wear a gown and mask now.”
“Why?” Christy questioned.
“Infection precautions,” Erik replied.
Christy nodded and reluctantly left the solace of Curt’s arms and passed through the double-glass doors into the intensive care area.
Christy was greeted by a slim, dark-haired nurse in surgical scrubs. “Here,” she said gently, “you’ll need to put these on over your street clothes. Your sister is so very weak, and in order to give the baby every advantage, we need to keep Candy from being exposed to possible bacterial and viral infections.”
Christy nodded and took the yellow gown, while the nurse pulled a pair of booties from a box and handed them to her also.
“These go over your shoes,” the nurse instructed. “And these,” she said, pulling a cap and mask from a drawer, “are to cover your hair and face.”
Christy donned the articles, feeling like she was about to go into surgery. The final item was a pair of thin, latex gloves. Pulling them on, Christy realized that she’d not even be allowed to touch her sister without this material between them.
Finally garbed in a manner that met with the nurse’s approval, Christy slid back the door to Candy’s room and entered as quietly as she could.
At first glance, Christy presumed Candy was sleeping. She glanced at the machines that lined both sides at the head of the bed. A heart monitor kept a visual and audible record of Candy’s weak heartbeat, while nasal tubes hummed with the rhythmic pulsing of precious oxygen and IV bags dripped bits of life-giving fluids into both of Candy’s arms. Toward the end of the bed was a machine that Christy had been told was a fetal monitor.
Reaching out, Christy put her hand on Candy’s. Her sister’s eyes instantly opened.
“It’s me, kid,” Christy said, trying to sound lighthearted. “I heard you wanted to talk with me.”
“Yeah,” Candy answered weakly. “We have to talk about the baby.”
Christy nodded. Behind the mask she frowned as she remembered how coldhearted Grant had been about his child.
“You have to save the baby, Christy. No matter what else happens, the baby has to live.”
“The doctors are doing everything they can,” Christy replied.
“Whatever it takes,” Candy said in a pleading voice. “I don’t matter in this anymore.”
“Of course you do,” Christy stated, almost alarmed. “I don’t want you to—”
“I know,” Candy said softly. “I don’t want to die, but there doesn’t appear to be much choice in the matter. Erik told me God has it all under control and that I don’t have to be afraid of what’s to come. You should talk to Erik, and he’ll help you understand what he’s told me.”
“Erik would have all the answers where God is concerned,” Christy said a bit more sarcastically than she had intended. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to take the baby,” Candy answered matter-of-factly. “When I die, I want you to raise my child. Will you do that for me, Christy? Will you be my baby’s mother?”
Christy felt tears come to her eyes—tears that she couldn’t hide from Candy. “I’ll do whatever I can,” she whispered, but just then an image of Grant’s face came to mind. “But what about your husband?” Christy asked.
“Grant can’t take this baby. He doesn’t know the first thing about being a father, and he doesn’t deserve to be a father after all he’s done.”
“What do you mean?” Christy questioned, trying to sound unaware of Grant’s exploits.
“Grant can’t be trusted,” Candy answered simply. Her weak voice reminded Christy of when they’d been children. “He’s no good, Christy. He mustn’t be allowed to take the baby.” Candy gripped Christy’s hand tightly. “He can’t!”
“Relax, Candy. You shouldn’t excite yourself. I’ll do whatever I can to see that the baby is protected, but please try to hang on, Candy. Maybe the doctors can do something for you after the baby is born. Maybe chemo or radiation.”
“No,” Candy whispered, weaker than ever. “There’s no course of action. I made that choice a long time ago. The doctor told me there would be no turning back.”
Hot tears fell against Christy’s mask. “No possibilities?” she questioned, her own voice sounding like a child’s.
“No,” Candy said with a knowing look. “Christy, please don’t hate me for my choice. I wanted this baby more than I wanted to live without it. I knew there’d never be another one because Grant… Well, never mind. This baby is very important to me, and I know I can trust you to raise it the way I would have.”
Christy patted her sister’s hand, hating the latex gloves that separated them from one another.
Candy offered her a brief smile. “I’m going to rest now,” she murmured.
“Yes, you rest. I won’t be far.” Christy gently brushed back a bit of Candy’s hair from her bruised and battered face.
Leaving the room, Christy kept thinking about Grant and how he had acted about the baby. If Candy’s wishes were going to be adhered to, Christy knew she would need some legal standing to accomplish it. A will! Whatever else happened, she needed to get a lawyer to the hospital right away in order to draw up a will for Candy.
Leaving her isolation gown in the trash receptacle, Christy was still deep in thought as she came from intensive care. She would have to find a lawyer, get the papers drawn up, and get Candy to sign, not only before she died, but before the tumor rendered her permanently unconscious. How much time did she have? Where would she find a trustworthy lawyer?
Christy entered the waiting room to find that Curt was alone. “Where’s Erik?”
“He had to report to work. Are you doing okay?” Curt asked.
“Do you know the name of a good lawyer?” Then without waiting for him to answer, she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. You just moved here.”
Curt folded his hands in his lap. “My sister lives here. She and her husband are in business and know a lot of people. I’d trust her to know an honest lawyer. Why do you ask?”
“I need to get a lawyer to come to the hospital and work with Candy. She needs a will.”
Curt nodded. “I’ll call my sister.” He reached across and took hold of her hand. “That is, if you want me to.”
Christy’s heart pounded so hard that she was sure Curt could hear it. She choked out acceptance of his offer and turned away to steady her nerves.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and let go of her hand.
Christy nodded but continued to look past him to the wall. He is an incredible man, Christy thought. He was good to her, beyond anything she could have ever expected from a friend, and that was what he kept reminding her they were. Friends.
“Just friends,” Christy said aloud as if to drive the point home to herself.
nine
Within twenty-four hours, Christy found herself sitting with Erik in a private hospital consultation room, across from a lawyer who introduced himself as Michael Kesler.
“My sister made the decision to forfeit her own life in order to give birth to her child. The baby means everything to Candy; perhaps it’s her way of living on after the cancer,” Christy said softly.
Michael Kesler nodded and made notes on a yellow legal pad. “What about the father?” he asked, tapping the pen against the paper.
Erik shook his head. “Most of the time he’s nowhere to be found.”
“Are they married?” Kesler asked.
“Of course!” Christy snapped, then relaxed, realizing that Kesler had no way of knowing. “Sorry,” she apologized. “They’ve been married about a year.”
Kesler wrote it down, then looked up at Christy rather apprehensively. “Your sister wants you to raise her child after she dies, but what about the father? The legalities involved in separating a biological child and father, especially in a situation where there is a legitimate marriage, are complicated, to say the least. The court always desires to keep children with their biological parents in any situation where it won’t be detrimental to the child. Have you discussed your sister’s desires with your brother-in-law?”
Christy glanced briefly at Erik before replying. “Grant told me he wants nothing to do with the baby if Candy dies. He told me that he never wanted to be a father in the first place. It is my impression that he would find the arrangement most agreeable.”
Kesler wrote the information down, but still sounded unconvinced. “What people say when they are facing the death of a loved one and what they do afterward are usually totally different. Once Mr. Burks actually loses his wife, he will probably feel differently. Right now, he might even be using this as a method to convince himself that she won’t die. Maybe in his mind he believes that if he tells her and everyone else that he doesn’t want the baby, she’ll have to live in order to care for their child.”
“I don’t think that’s a consideration of his,” Christy blurted out.
“Well, I’m going to see Mrs. Burks to confirm several points, and then I’ll prepare the papers. I should be able to have them ready by tomorrow morning, and if we can manage to locate Mr. Burks, I’ll confront him with the terms.”
Christy stood up as the lawyer did. “Thank you for coming so quickly. I know you’re doing this as a favor to your friends, but I just want you to know that I truly appreciate it.”
Michael Kesler smiled broadly. “I know you do. I just wish we could have met under better circumstances.” He sobered for a moment. “You must realize that this matter creates a very delicate legal situation. If your brother-in-law wants to fight this, there will be little chance of you winning.”
“I already imagined that to be the case,” Christy admitted.
Erik offered to walk Michael to Candy’s room, leaving Christy alone with her thoughts. Would the lawyer manage to put the will together in time? What would happen to the baby if Candy died before signing the papers? What if Grant refused to agree to the terms? Nervously, she paced to the window of the small room and stared out. All of Denver seemed to be going about its paces while her own world was falling apart.
“Did you get everything settled?” Curt’s words sounded with the warmth of his breath against her neck. Christy wished that she hadn’t pinned up her hair. She felt so vulnerable with his lips nearly against her ear.
Afraid to turn, she continued staring out the window. “The lawyer has gone in to see her. Erik took him.”
“Yes, I saw them,” Curt replied. “I hope he can help.”
Christy realized that she had not thanked Curt for his assistance in locating a lawyer and turned without thinking. They were only inches apart, and Christy couldn’t help but wish that Curt would hold her and make the awful things of the world disappear.
“Thank you, Curt,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “I really appreciate the way you…” She fell silent, losing herself in his eyes.
“I know,” Curt answered and started to say something more, but was interrupted by Erik’s voice.
“Curt, I’m sure I don’t have the right to ask, but I’d like it very much if you’d take Christy home. She’s been here since yesterday, and I know she could use a good hot meal and a night’s sleep.”
Curt turned to face Christy’s brother, who had just returned from Candy’s bedside. “I’d be happy to help.”
“Oh no you two don’t,” Christy protested. “I’m not going home.”
Curt and Erik raised their eyebrows in unison and turned to stare at Christy. Christy blushed at their response. “I don’t need to go home,” she stated firmly.
Curt looked at Erik, then back to Christy. “Erik, you can count on me. I’ll deliver her safe and sound.”
“Thanks, Curt. I owe you,” Erik replied as though Christy had never said a word. “Get some rest, Sis,” he said before turning to leave. “You look awful.”
“Thanks a lot, Erik. I appreciate your honesty,” Christy replied sarcastically. “But I’m staying. You can both go on without concerning yourselves about me. If I need to go home, I’ll drive myself.”
Curt put his hand gently on her arm and smiled in a way that told Christy she’d lost the fight. “Come on,” he said, “you have to ride with me. Remember? I brought you here yesterday, and you don’t have a car.”
The drive home nearly put Christy to sleep, but it also doubled her determination not to be pushed around by her brother and client. When Curt turned off the motor, she didn’t wait for him to come around and help her out. Instead, Christy reached inside her purse for her keys and quickly got out of the car.
“Now that I have a car of my own,” she said, “I’m going back to the hospital.”
She reached for
the door handle on her car, but found her wrist encircled by Curt’s powerful grip. “You’re going to bed,” he said sternly. “You really do look like you could use some sleep.”
Christy’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but Curt just grinned. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he whispered, pulling her along, “you still wear the crown well.”
“What?” she questioned in confusion.
Curt laughed and reached out to take the keys from her. “Which one’s the house key?” he asked.
Christy pointed it out, then questioned him again. “What did you mean by that remark?”
“Just what I said. You run this place and your family like you’re some kind of queen on a throne. You’re used to getting your own way and having people do what you tell them. This time, someone told you something other than what you wanted to hear, and you feel slighted. You’ll get over it. I think it’s about time somebody took care of you.”
“And you think you’re that someone?” Christy questioned. “What about Debbie?”
“I think Debbie has enough to do without worrying about you,” Curt replied, completely putting the issue of Debbie aside.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Christy said in complete exasperation, “and you know it.”
Curt opened the door and waited for Christy to turn on the lights before speaking. “Sometimes I wonder if you even know what you mean.”
Christy stared at him for a moment. “I’m going back to the hospital as soon as you leave, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I kind of figured that would be your attitude. That’s why I’m not going to leave,” Curt replied and took off his coat.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“But you said that you weren’t leaving,” Christy said, watching him make himself at home.
“I’m not.” Curt faced her with a mischievous grin. “I’m staying the night.”
“Just like that?” Christy asked, standing with hands on her hips.
Wings Like Eagles Page 6
