“You shouldn’t take that hill so fast, Ginna. You’ll be fainting on me again, next thing I know.”
“I will be just fine once I see Neal. Where is he?”
Kirkwood held the door for her. “Come with me. He should be awake by now.”
“How is he?”
“Doing well. I told you, the wound wasn’t serious. There’s no need for you to worry so, Ginna.”
She stopped and stared at him. “The man I’m going to marry has been shot, and you’re telling me not to worry?”
Kirkwood saw her point. Besides, women always worried. “At least don’t let him know how upset you are. I’d like to get him through this with a minimum amount of trauma.”
Ginna nodded and forced a composure she didn’t feel.
If “minimum trauma” was what the doctor prescribed, he hadn’t bargained for a visit to his patient from Neal’s elderly friends. When Kirkwood and Ginna entered the room, Lynch, Elspeth, Pansy, and Sister were all firing questions at Neal.
“Who was it shot you?” Elspeth demanded. “I’ll bet it was Colonel Swan hisself.”
Pansy bustled about, tucking covers and fluffing pillows. “Does it pain you much, dear boy?”
Sister was offering to run to the kitchen and brew some of her special sassafrass tea for Neal. “It’ll cure whatever ails you.”
Lynch was regaling the whole group about the time he was shot, fighting in Korea. He was being duly ignored by the lot of them.
Neal was lying in bed, struggling to accept Pansy’s unwanted ministrations with grace, while he attempted to answer all of their questions. Finally, in a brief period of silence, he got a word in. “Ginna? Have any of you seen Ginna?”
“I’m here Neal,” she said from the doorway.
“Out!” Dr. Kirkwood commanded. “All of you! What are you doing in here pestering my patient?”
“I saw it all, but they didn’t believe me.” Elspeth stood firm, even though the others were headed for the door.
“You, too, Elspeth—out!”
She brushed past the doctor and Ginna, with her head held high. “Well, just in case you need a witness,” she said, “that’s me. I’ll be in my room till the sheriff comes.”
Once Elspeth closed the door, Dr. Kirkwood let out a huge sigh of relief, then muttered something under his breath about busybodies and nuisances, and old people in general.
Ginna wasn’t listening. She hurried to Neal and bent down to kiss him, lingering over his lips for a long time.
“Hey, that was worth getting shot for,” he said, smiling up into her troubled eyes. “It’s okay, honey. The doc says I’m going to be fine. Look, I can even raise my arm.”
“Don’t!” Kirkwood said. “You’ll start the bleeding again.”
“Hey, Doc, could Ginna and I have a few minutes alone?”
Kirkwood hesitated, but finally decided that Ginna was probably the best medicine for his patient, at the moment.
“Don’t excite him,” Kirkwood said, just before he left them.
Neal chuckled at that. “I guess I’d better not tell him that you got me excited, the minute you walked into the room.”
Ginna smoothed her hand over his forehead. “Neal, are you sure you’re all right?”
“I am, now that you’re here.”
“Don’t make jokes. I really want to know, Neal. How are you?”
“I’m not joking. The minute you walked through that door, the last twinges of pain just vanished. My arm feels like it did this time yesterday—before the incident last night.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Some of it.” He frowned. “Other parts are kind of fuzzy in my brain. I’m still not sure who shot me. The doc won’t talk about it. Has he told you anything?”
Ginna wondered if she should tell Neal all she knew. After all, Dr. Kirkwood had warned her not to upset him. She decided against telling him everything.
“I don’t know a lot of details either. Dr. Kirkwood said that you rushed out after that phone call, but you didn’t come back in. It started raining, and they went out to look for you. I think there was probably a hunter in the woods and he must have fired off a stray round. You just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time.”
Several seconds of silence stretched between them, before Neal said, “So, you don’t buy the line about my being shot by a Confederate soldier?”
Ginna avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what to believe,” she admitted. “But I do know this.” Again she leaned down and kissed him. “If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t have wanted to live any longer. I love you, Neal. I want to get married just as soon as we can.”
Neal let out a whoop. “You sure know how to get a guy well in a hurry!”
He reached up and gathered Ginna close with his good arm. She was practically lying next to him on the bed. Slowly, gently, with ever so much tenderness, he kissed her, tangling his hand in her hair to hold her near.
Finally, she drew slightly away. Her heart was thundering; she had to catch her breath.
“Not too much excitement,” she whispered, smiling into his eyes. “Doctor’s orders.”
“To hell with doctor’s orders. Come here to me, Virginia.”
In a love daze, she didn’t realize he hadn’t called her by her own name. She was only aware of his nearness when he drew her close again, kissing her face all over—eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin. Finally, he captured her lips once more. Ginna was trembling against him—wanting him, needing him, loving him as she had never known she could love him before. All the loneliness and hurt of her childhood vanished, when Neal held her this way. The rest of the world ceased to exist. Only the two of them were here, loving each other, as if nothing else mattered.
“Where do you want to live after we’re married, Ginna?”
The question came out of the blue, but gave her a warm feeling. She thought about it, before she answered. “Anywhere that you are.”
“That’s my girl! You know all the right answers.” Neal chuckled and brushed her forehead with his lips. “Do you like Washington or Alexandria, or would you rather stay in Winchester?”
“I think Alexandria is lovely. I’ve been there only a couple of times, but it seems such a cozy place—away from the bustle of Washington.”
“Then Alexandria it will be! I’ve been planning to sell my house. We’ll find a place together that’s all ours. No ghosts from the past.”
His mention of ghosts drew a cloud over Ginna’s happiness. “Neal, will you do me one favor, before we’re married?”
“Anything, darling—before or after we’re married. Just name it.”
“I have a feeling we need to go back one more time. I know you don’t want to, but I had this dream last night. I have to find out what happened to Channing and Virginia. I’ll never know any peace until I find out. Go back with me, darling, just once,” she begged. “Then we’ll get on with our own life together and forget about the past.”
Ginna held her breath, waiting for Neal’s answer. She knew she was asking a lot. She would understand if he refused.
Neal smoothed the hair back from her face. “Ginna, look at me.”
She did as he asked, damning herself for the tears gathering in her eyes.
“This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
“Well, I guess, if you think we must, then we must. I don’t understand any of this. I wish we’d never gotten involved with Channing and Virginia.”
“But don’t you see, Neal, they brought us together. Without them, we might never have found each other.”
“And, supposing you’re right, why would they do that?”
“Because they need us. Because nothing will ever be right between them unless we help make it right.”
“But things are right between us, Ginna. Isn’t that all that matters?”
&nb
sp; “I’m not sure, Neal. I can’t explain it. It’s just a feeling I have. You have to trust me. That’s all I can tell you.”
He hugged her and wiped away her tears. “Okay, darlin’. Once the doc lets me up out of this bed, we’ll do whatever you want. But we need to do it right away. I don’t want to have to wait long to get married.”
“Neither do I, Neal.” She smiled with a brilliance that lit the room. “You couldn’t be more eager than I am. I’ve been waiting all my life to marry you.”
Just then, Dr. Kirkwood knocked and called from the door, “Neal, you have visitors.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not the interrogation committee again, I hope.”
Ginna laughed. “I imagine they’ve been banned from this room, for good.”
“Who is it?” Neal called.
Dr. Kirkwood opened the door a crack. “Mr. Henderson and little Christine. Do you feel up to seeing them, Neal? They’ve driven a long way, but I can tell them to come back another time, if that would be better.”
Neal grimaced. “No time would be good. I guess I might as well get this over with.”
“Are you sure, Neal?” Ginna was worried.
He gripped her hand. “It’ll be all right, honey, if you’ll stay here with me.”
“Of course,” she answered, unsmiling.
“Tell them to come on in, Doc.”
The man who entered looked more like three-year-old Christine’s grandfather than her father. His hair was as gray, as was his face. His dark eyes seemed sunken deep into his head. The smile creases around his mouth showed that once he had been full of life and fun. But those lines were not in use today. He held his little daughter’s hand and walked slowly toward the bed, staring at Neal.
“Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Frazier.” His voice quivered with emotion. “I know this is an imposition, especially since you aren’t feeling well.”
Neal sat up straighter in the bed. He was squeezing Ginna’s hand so tightly that it almost hurt. Neal looked every bit as somber as Donald Henderson. It took a bright smile from Christine to cut the tension in the room—a smile she showered on the man who had saved her life.
Without a word, she ran over to the low bed, climbed up, and wrapped her arms around Neal’s neck. “Thank you, Mr. Frazier,” she said softly. “Daddy said to tell you that.”
Ginna watched Neal’s eyes redden when he looked at the pretty blond child. Someday, she mused happily, he would make a wonderful father to their children.
“That’s a pretty dress for a pretty girl,” Neal answered, in a choked voice. “Blue’s my favorite color.”
She laughed brightly. “It’s mine too! And my mommy loved blue.”
Dr. Kirkwood had been standing by the door, observing. He knew that Donald Henderson wanted to talk to Neal alone, without the child in the room.
“Christine?” he said. “Would you like to walk down to the pond and see the swans? I have a lady here who will take you. And she has sugar cookies from the kitchen and a glass of lemonade.”
Christine turned pleading eyes on her father.
For the first time, Mr. Henderson smiled. “You run along, honey. Have a good time.”
Silence fell over the room, as Christine climbed down from the bed and ran to the door, where one of the nurses was waiting just outside with the promised cookies and lemonade. After she left, Kirkwood closed the door.
“I hope you don’t mind if I stay,” he said to Christine’s father. “Neal had an accident last night, and I don’t want him to get upset.”
Henderson nodded to the doctor, then turned back to Neal and said, “I’m sorry. I hope it was nothing serious.”
Neal half-raised his arm to show the bandage. “No more than a scratch. The doc’s just overcautious.”
“Is this your wife?” Henderson asked, nodding toward Ginna.
Neal smiled up at her. “Not yet, but soon. Once I’m back on my feet, we plan to be married right away.”
No one noticed the frown that those words brought to Leonard Kirkwood’s face. No one but Ginna, that is.
“Ma’am,” Henderson said, with a slight bow, “I wish you a long life and all the happiness in the world. There’s nothing like being married and sharing your life with the one person in the world who can make it complete.”
Henderson’s voice broke on the last few words. It was clear to all of them that he was thinking of his wife and her tragic death. Again, tension filled the room.
“I’m sorry,” Neal murmured.
“At least I still have Christine, thanks to you, Mr. Frazier. That’s more than I could have hoped for. That’s what her mother would have wanted. She worshiped our baby. And Christine is the image of her mother. I’ll have that. All our other children look like my side of the family. I’m not going to take up much of your time. I just had to see you and thank you in person. Because of you, I’ll get to see my little girl start school, graduate, get married, and give me grandchildren, I hope. Your actions were totally unselfish, risking your own life to save my baby. I know there’s no way I can ever thank you adequately, Mr. Frazier, but I wanted to tell you that if there’s anything—anything—I can ever do for you, you have only to ask. And I want you to know, too, that my wife, Sally, is up in heaven right now, smiling down on you, watching over you. She’ll always be there.”
Ginna noticed that Neal was shifting uncomfortably on the bed. She exchanged glances with Dr. Kirkwood. It was clear that Neal hoped Mr. Henderson would finish and leave soon. He couldn’t take much more of this. Both Ginna and Kirkwood knew how guilty Neal felt about not being able to save Sally Henderson. Her husband’s words were only rubbing salt into Neal’s emotional wounds. This couldn’t be good for him, no matter that Donald Henderson meant his words to the very depth of his scarred soul.
“I think my patient needs to rest now,” Dr. Kirkwood said, in his most authoritative voice.
“Yes, well, I’ll be going, then. But I had to see you,” Henderson said. “Sally would have wanted me to thank you for our child’s life.”
Neal lurched up in bed suddenly. “Don’t thank me! I’m the sorry sonuvabitch who let your wife die. If I’d had the guts, I would have gone back into that plane and brought her out, too. I don’t want your thanks, Henderson. I don’t deserve any thanks! You shouldn’t be thanking me. You should be blaming me. I let your wife die! I’m the no-good bastard who made you a widower and left all your kids motherless.”
He was actually yelling at the man. Henderson’s complexion went from gray to pasty-white.
Dr. Kirkwood took Mr. Henderson by the arm and led him into the hall.
“I’m sorry,” Henderson said. “I didn’t mean to get him upset.”
“I know. It’s not your fault. He just wasn’t ready to see you, yet. I should have known that. I’d better get back in there now and see what I can do to calm him down.”
Donald Henderson was still muttering about how sorry he was, as he ambled off down the hallway.
Inside the room, Ginna had her hands full. For a few seconds after Dr. Kirkwood ushered Neal’s visitor out, he continued yelling and thrashing about in the bed. Ginna tried to hold him still, so that his arm wouldn’t start bleeding. It was no use. He was much too strong for her and too distraught. Then, suddenly, Neal went limp. He fell back against the pillows and didn’t move. He hardly seemed to be breathing.
“Neal? Neal, can you hear me?” Ginna was hovering close, trying to get some response from him, when Dr. Kirkwood came back in.
“What’s happened?” he demanded.
She stared up at him, frantic. “I don’t know. He was raging on and on about the crash, and then he suddenly just fell back and went still. I can’t get him to speak to me or even open his eyes. It’s like he’s not here in this room any longer.”
“Neal!” Dr. Kirkwood said, sternly. “Open your eyes!”
“Neal, can you hear me? Speak to me,” Ginna begged.
&
nbsp; Neal did not open his eyes, but he did speak. In a voice harsh with anxiety he said, “It’s going to be all right, Mrs. Henderson. Just an air pocket. We’ll be on the ground soon. You’re not scared, are you, Christine?”
Ginna and Dr. Kirkwood looked at each other. It was all too clear what was happening to Neal. He was back in that airplane, flight 1862. And the plane was about to crash … again.
Chapter Thirteen
“What’s happening, Dr. Kirkwood? Ginna was frantic. “What can we do?”
Neal was still talking in a strange monotone, still back on board that ill-fated plane. He was trying to soothe Sally Henderson’s tears, trying to make Christine laugh.
“I could sedate him, but I’d rather try to talk him through this without medication.”
“But wouldn’t a shot be faster?” Ginna gripped Neal’s hand, as if by hanging on tightly, she might draw him back to the present.
“That might be faster, but not entirely safe. If I put him to sleep, what he’s reliving might simply continue in the form of a dream. That could do him great harm.”
Dr. Kirkwood came to the side of the bed and stared down into Neal’s face. “Neal!” he called loudly. “Neal Frazier, you can hear me. I know you can. I want you to listen very carefully to what I’m saying. You are not on an airplane. You are at Swan’s Quarter. Ginna is here, and she’s very worried about you. We both want you to wake up right now. Neal? Are you listening to me?”
Kirkwood paused to see if his words had any affect. Neal continued mumbling, talking to Sally and Christine. His voice had lost its calm. He was becoming more and more agitated.
“Neal, listen to me! Forget Sally and Christine. They don’t need you any longer. Ginna needs you now. She wants you to wake up. She needs to talk to you.”
“Don’t panic! Stop screaming!” Neal himself screamed. “We’ll be okay. Just hang on. Put your face down in this pillow. Everybody, stop screaming!” Then in a whisper, like a prayer, he said, “God, help us! We’re going to crash.”
“No, Neal!” Ginna yelled. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him as hard as she could, tears streaming down her face. “No, you are not going to crash! You’re coming back to me. I need you! Virginia needs you! You can’t leave us like this. I won’t have it!”
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