As they strolled into the next store, Jessica glanced at her watch. She wouldn’t shop too much longer. She hoped that by the time she returned to Emily’s house, Sam would have some good news for them. About the dog and the insurance. About anything.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT HAD BEEN A LONG AFTERNOON IN MEDICAL OFFICES. JACK’S patience—the scrap that he possessed—was worn thin. He hobbled back up to the house as fast as his new set of crutches would carry him. He cursed softly under his breath, slipping on the snow, just about to tear the ligaments of his other leg.
Julie and Kate followed a few steps behind. He sensed them warily watching him, as if he were a volcano about to blow.
That’s what he felt like. His right leg was encased in a fresh plaster cast to the knee. It should have felt better, but it hurt even worse, his ankle throbbing horribly.
It was so stupid to have injured himself like this, and it was his own fault. Trying to swoop in like Superman to impress that woman, to help her save a few dollars on a tow truck. What was it to him if she was down on her luck? Now, here he was, stuck wearing a cast until the ligaments healed. Which could take three weeks, the doctor had told him.
Unable to walk, to drive, to see straight from the sheer pain. Just because Julie Newton smiled at him with those big brown eyes.
He was just a darn fool.
And he was sure Julie knew it. What else could she think?
He reached the front steps, breathless and frustrated. The leg in the cast hurt too much to put any weight on it yet, though the orthopedist in Essex had called it a walking cast.
“I think you need to go up on your bottom. It will be easier,” Julie gently suggested. “I’ll bring the crutches for you.”
He turned toward her with a scowl. What did she think he was, a two-year-old?
He threw the metal crutches up the steps. They landed on the porch with a clatter. Then he grabbed the railing with one hand and hoisted himself up step-by-step. It hurt something awful when he had to balance on his bad leg, but he gritted his teeth and finally made it to the top. Huffing and puffing, he leaned over and managed to scoop up one crutch before he lost his balance. Then he unlocked the door and stomped inside.
He staggered toward the couch. Just getting into the house was exhausting. How would he last three whole weeks with this chunk of cement on his leg? He would bust it off with a sledgehammer by tomorrow.
Now he really felt like an old man. Every muscle in his body ached as he shucked off his jacket and flopped down on the couch. The fall was catching up with him. It always hurt more later.
Moments later, Julie and Kate came in.
Julie sent Kate into the kitchen. “Why don’t you color awhile,” she suggested. “I’ll be right in to make you a snack.”
Jack watched Kate meekly leave the room. He knew he’d scared her but didn’t know what to say.
Julie turned back to him and gently set the other crutch by the side of the couch.
“The doctor said you could have some ibuprofen. It will help the swelling inside the cast go down. You must be in a lot of pain,” she added quietly.
“I don’t need anything, thank you,” he nearly shouted at her.
She looked shocked, even hurt for a moment. He stared at her, about to apologize, then turned his head away.
“We never stopped at the service station,” he reminded her in a more reasonable tone. “The number’s on the wall. They can still get the tow truck over here. It’s not that late.”
He hoped she would take the hint. He wanted her to go. He didn’t need her here, hovering. He didn’t need anyone.
When he looked back at her, she seemed confused. “What will you do? You can’t even drive. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”
“I’ve been taking care of myself a long time. I’ll manage fine. Don’t worry about it.”
She did look concerned. She wasn’t just being polite. Why should she care about him? She didn’t even know him. He stared out the window and took a deep breath just to keep from shouting at her. Why wouldn’t she take a hint and go? How blunt did he have to be?
“You’ve got to get back on the road. You’ve got your family waiting,” he reminded her.
“They’re not in any rush to entertain us, believe me,” she said quietly. She picked up the other crutch and then took his jacket from the back of a chair.
So maybe that was it, he thought. It’s easier to linger with a grumpy old coot like me than crawl back to her relatives for help.
“I’ll call for the tow truck,” she said finally, “if I know there’s someone who will stop by at least once a day to look in on you. Bring you groceries and whatever.”
“Sure. I’ll call someone. I have lots of neighbors who’ll help me. No problem.”
Not that one single name comes to mind at the moment, Jack added silently.
Friends had been his wife’s department. After Claire died, Jack had let all his ties lapse. People called for a while then just stopped trying. He was what you might call a recluse, he realized. The nearest house down the road had been sold a few months ago, and he had never bothered to meet the new owners. He didn’t even know what his closest neighbor looked like anymore.
Julie folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, I’ll get the phone. You call a friend and tell them what happened,” she said in a reasonable tone. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving until I’m sure there’s someone around to look in on you.”
Jack took a breath and struggled to sit higher against the cushions. He needed a plan and didn’t have one. He peered into the kitchen. Kate sat at the table coloring in a picture book.
Julie soon returned with the phone. Her expression was neutral, but he thought he detected a certain amused light in her eyes.
Jack took the phone then punched in some numbers. He listened for a moment. “Busy,” he reported, glancing at her. “I’ll try again later.”
He forced a smile, but she didn’t smile back.
“And what is the time and temperature right now, Jack?” She glanced at her watch. “I have . . . half past three.”
Blast. She had caught him. Okay, one for her side.
Before Jack could muster up an answer, the brass bell at the Christmas tree stand rang madly. Saved by the bell, he thought.
Julie peered out the window. “What in the world is that?”
“Some customers for a tree. Just ignore it. They’ll go away.”
“Ignore your customers? Don’t you want to sell your trees?”
He shook his head. “I don’t care. Let them take one for free. Let them take two.” The bell stopped. “See? They’re giving up.”
Then, a second later, it started again, even louder.
Julie looked down at him, her head tilted to one side. “Let me go out there. I can help them.”
“You? How can you sell a Christmas tree?” He sat upright suddenly. His leg with the cast swung down and landed with a thump on the floor. “Ugh . . .”
She had already slipped back into her boots and was pulling on his big green parka, which swam around her slim body. She paused and bent over near him. “Are you all right, Jack?”
He waved her away, feeling a little queasy from the pain. “Just go on. Tell them to go away. They can come back some other time. I’m not going anywhere,” he mumbled to himself.
He heard the door open and shut. Then Julie’s light tread, hopping down the porch steps. He sat up slowly and watched her from the window. She trotted toward the tree stand and waved, her colorful scarf flying out behind her like a flag.
The customers, who were heading for their car, turned and smiled back at her.
Who wouldn’t smile back at her? You’d have to be blind, Jack thought.
He watched a moment longer as Julie and the couple disappeared among the trees. Then he lay back and closed his eyes.
It was growing dark outside. The lights for the tree lot had gone on automatically.
Too late
to call for the tow truck. And now she was out there, selling his trees.
She could be out there all night, he realized. It was the busy season, after all.
What next with this woman?
Jack closed his eyes. He shuddered to imagine it.
SAM HEARD JESSICA AND EMILY RETURN FROM THEIR SHOPPING TRIP and went to the door to meet them. Jessica was smiling, chatting with her sister, her cheeks ruddy from the cold, her eyes bright. Several shopping bags dangled from each hand.
For a moment it seemed as if she had just been out with Emily, shopping for Christmas; he completely forgot the real reason for their excursion.
Then he remembered. And remembered all he had to report to her.
“Hey, honey.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Did you guys buy out the mall?”
“Just about,” Jessica replied with a laugh.
“How is Jane doing?” Emily put down her packages and slipped off her jacket.
“Still down for her nap,” Sam reported.
“Oh dear. I’d better wake up her up. She won’t sleep tonight.”
Emily trotted up the stairs. Jessica had also dropped her bags at her feet and now shrugged off her jacket. “There’s more in the car. I picked up some sneakers and boots for the boys. I hope they fit. I got you some work boots. You’ll have to find your own sneakers though.”
She peered into a bag and started to sort things out.
Sam touched her shoulder. “That’s okay. I don’t need to try them on right now.” She looked up at him. He could tell she had sensed his serious tone, the expression on her face suddenly growing tense.
“Why don’t we sit down a minute. I haven’t seen you all day.”
Sam led Jessica over to the couch, and they sat down side by side. Dan had made a fire and the room looked cozy, Sam thought. It was very different from their house, but it still had the same comfortable feeling. The comparison made him feel sad.
“Did you take Darrell to see Reilly?” she asked.
Sam nodded. “We went over right after you left. The dog was sedated. But Darrell got to pet him awhile.”
“What did the vet say?” Jessica straightened her shoulders; he could see that she was trying to brace herself against more bad news.
Sam shrugged. “They really don’t know. It could go either way, but it doesn’t look good.”
“How’s Darrell? He must be so upset.”
“He’s still hoping the dog will pull through. I think he may be in denial. It’s going to be hard if the dog doesn’t make it.”
Jessica nodded. “Did you speak to the fire department? When can we go back to the house?”
Sam knew she expected to find many possessions that had survived the blaze. He knew now that wouldn’t be the case.
“We can go back tomorrow,” he said evenly. “The fire department and the insurance company have finished their investigation. They seem to think the fire started in the family room. A light fixture that had some frayed wiring. The one that hung over the painted cabinet.”
Jessica looked shocked. “One stupid light fixture burned our entire house down?”
“That’s what they say.” Sam paused. “There was no way for us to know it had worn out inside. I thought the lightbulb needed to be changed, but that wasn’t quite it. It was really the wiring. I never saw it flicker or give any warning.”
She swallowed hard and looked down at her hands. “Neither did I. I mean, I don’t remember noticing anything odd with it.”
“That’s what they call the heart of the fire, the epicenter. Where it started. That’s where the fire got the hottest and where they found the most damage.” His mouth felt suddenly dry. It was harder than he had expected to relay this information to her.
“It was the worst there,” she repeated. “How about the rest of the house? Was it any better toward the front rooms—or the upstairs?”
Sam took a breath. “Actually, the fire department described the damage as . . . extensive. But I’m thinking they have to tell you that,” he quickly added, “to prepare you. It probably isn’t that bad. But they don’t want us to get our hopes up.”
He saw her face go pale and her chin begin to tremble. She struggled to blink back tears. He took her hands in his, but she didn’t even seem to notice. Her fingers were ice cold. He covered them with his own.
“Right,” she said finally. “Maybe it’s not that bad.”
“You know me, Jess. I can do a lot with a little,” he reminded her. “They’re going to see that place from a different perspective entirely. I’m sure we can rebuild, honey. It will just take time and care. Like the first time we renovated.”
She nodded again, still looking shocked. “When can we go back?”
“Tomorrow. Dan said he would come along to help, and Emily will come, too, I’m sure. Chief Rhinehardt wants to meet us there, to answer any questions.”
“Oh, that’s good of him,” Jessica said politely.
“Yes, he’s a good man. He’s doing his best for us.”
“How are the boys?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject. “Did you take them to play in the snow?”
Sam nodded and smiled. “They got soaking wet, of course. I think they could use some of those new clothes now.”
Jessica rose. “I’ll find their things and make them change upstairs. I don’t want them to catch colds on top of everything else.”
The phone rang and they looked at each other. Even though it was Emily and Dan’s house, 99 percent of the calls today had been for Sam or Jessica.
Emily called down from the top of the stairs. “It’s the veterinarian, Sam. I think you ought to pick it up,” she added quietly.
Sam met her halfway on the staircase and took the phone.
“Hello? This is Sam Morgan.”
“This is Doctor Curtis. I’ve been taking care of your dog, Reilly,” a young woman explained.
“Yes, we met this afternoon,” Sam reminded her. “How’s he doing? Any news?”
He heard the young woman release a long breath, and his gut twisted with nerves.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan. Reilly didn’t make it. His lungs were badly damaged by the smoke, and there wasn’t much we could do.” The doctor said more about how they had tried to save Reilly, but Sam didn’t hear a word. He nodded numbly. “Would you like to claim the body, or have us dispose of him?”
“Dispose of him? He’s not a bag of trash. He’s our dog!” He knew he was shouting. He couldn’t stop himself. Something in her calm, smooth tone made him snap.
Why did they have to lose Reilly? That poor dog. Poor Darrell, he thought.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Morgan. I didn’t mean to offend you. We can arrange to have the dog’s remains cremated and you can pick up the ashes,” the doctor said.
Sam sensed Jessica at his side, but he didn’t even glance at her. He felt his body shaking. “I’m not sure. . . . I have to speak to my family, to my boy, Darrell. Reilly was his dog,” he explained. He knew he was going on too long, telling this woman more than she wanted to know. He stopped himself, his voice choked with tears.
“Of course. No rush. You can call tomorrow and leave a message.”
Dr. Curtis apologized again and offered her condolences. Sam abruptly said good-bye and hung up.
He turned to Jessica. From her wide-eyed expression and the way she gripped his arm, he knew she understood what had happened.
“How will we tell Darrell? He’ll be crushed.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“Maybe we should wait?” she suggested. “At least until tomorrow. It’s been such a hard day for everyone.”
It had indeed. The hardest day of his life.
He gazed down at her. He knew she meant well, but they had to tell Darrell. They couldn’t keep something like this from him. It wouldn’t be right to shield him from the truth.
“He’s growing up, Jess. He’s a teenager. He’s going to feel awful. It’s going to be hard, but he�
��ll handle it. Loss is part of life. He’s going to learn that sooner or later.”
“Tell me about it,” she said tartly. “I think our kids got a crash course on loss this week.”
Sam sighed. “We have to tell him. There’s no other way.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right.” Jessica gripped his arm tightly. “Let’s just call him in here and get it over with. Is he watching TV?”
He turned to see their son standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Was that the phone? Did the clinic call back?” Darrell asked, walking toward them.
Sam touched his son’s arm. “Darrell, the doctor at the clinic did call. She had something important to tell us. . . .” He could hear his voice trembling and saw the look of fear drop down over the boy’s face like a dark curtain. “Reilly is gone, son. He didn’t make it.”
Darrell stared in disbelief. His face looked fierce. “What do you mean, he didn’t make it? I just saw him this afternoon. He looked fine. Is he dead? You said he would be okay.” Darrell blinked hard. “How could he just . . . just die like that? That’s not right. That’s not fair. . . .”
Sam pulled his son close and wrapped his arms around the boy’s trembling body. “I know it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.”
Jessica took a step closer and rubbed Darrell’s tense shoulders. “We all loved Reilly. But we knew he loved you the most, honey. You took such good care of him. He was the happiest, most loved dog I ever saw. . . .”
Her voice trailed off. Sam knew how she felt. He didn’t know what to say either. Darrell’s heart was broken. What could you say?
“It’s tough. I know it’s tough, son,” Sam said quietly. “But we all just have to accept this. It must have been Reilly’s time. He had a good life, a long life. He gave us so much love. And you gave him so much love. That’s the way it should be. But he had to pass on someday and . . . this was it. We’ll get another dog soon, Darrell. A puppy, who will live a good, long time,” he added.
Darrell stood with his head bowed then abruptly pulled away from his father. “I don’t want another dog. I want Reilly. I want to see him. I don’t care if he’s dead. I want to say good-bye,” he insisted.
He glared at Sam then his face crumpled with tears again. He covered his eyes with his hands, sobbing quietly. When Jessica tried to touch him, he shook her off.
A Christmas Star Page 7
