She popped a hot piece of cookie into her mouth, then sucked in air to cool it. “Ooh, it’s hot.”
Aunt Blanche finished sliding the cookies onto a plate and smiled. “You always did need to figure things out for yourself.”
“I went to Boston a couple of days ago.” She blew on her plate a moment. “I . . . I met my biological father.”
Aunt Blanche’s movements froze, then she put down the spatula and looked up. Her careful expression revealed little of her thoughts. “You found him.”
“Found him and lost him all in the same day.” She told her aunt what had happened. “He’s left Haylie some money for college.”
Aunt Blanche sniffed. “As well he should. Did you learn anything of interest?”
“He was a nice guy. Wealthier than you can imagine, but nice in spite of it. I didn’t get a chance to ask him if he gave Dad the money for the boat.”
“With that kind of money, you would have thought he might have paid support for you.”
“He said he did.”
“That’s a lie. Your parents never saw a penny of support from anyone.” Aunt Blanche hesitated, then her gaze shifted and her lips flattened. “I told your mom she should ask for money for your college. I don’t know that she ever did.”
“When was this?”
“The week before she died.” Her aunt chose two cookies for herself and put them on a small paper plate.
“I still can’t believe someone shot her. I wish I could accept I had nothing to do with it.”
Her aunt’s brows winged up. “Why, child, why on earth would you blame yourself? A storm is an act of God. God decided your mama had endured enough on this mean earth and took her home to glory. Nothing you could have done to cause it or stop it.”
“You know. She didn’t fill up the boat after our fight. Maybe she got stuck out there and couldn’t get back, then got in the way of some drug runners and they killed her. But I got her stuck out there.”
Aunt Blanche shook her finger in her face. “Mallory Blanchard, you stop that right now. Do you think any of this took God by surprise? Do you think you have the power to change what he’s ordained and set in motion? We all do things we wish we hadn’t, but God doesn’t strike us dead for it. Nor does he exact a dreadful retribution. Have you been walking around all these years thinking this was all your fault?”
Mallory licked her dry lips and managed to push one word past her tight throat. “Yes.”
“Don’t do what I did and ruin your life because you think that’s all you deserve. I fought with the man I loved, and it pushed him to go to war. He died in Vietnam, and I buried myself here in this house as punishment. But I didn’t tell him to go. I didn’t put him in front of that bullet. Your mama always checked her fuel before she left. If she got distracted and failed to do it that morning, that’s not your fault. All we can do is learn from our mistakes. We can’t go back and change them. God isn’t holding it over your head, you know. You’re the only one doing that.”
Was it that easy? The pressure began to lift in her chest. She’d have to think about it.
THIRTY-THREE
Spring flowers carpeted the roadsides. The balmy May temperatures lifted Kevin’s spirits and reminded him that renewal came in cycles. He only hoped and prayed the spring would bring a renewal between Mallory and him. He’d made it clear to her how he felt, but she continued to hold him at arm’s length. This place had worked its magic on them when they were younger. Could it do it again?
His muscles flexed as he rowed the canoe with the four of them across the river to his favorite picnic area. He hadn’t been here since Mallory left town fifteen years ago, and he glanced at her back at the stern as she used an oar to steer toward the island.
She’d caught her long hair back in a braid that reached to her waist, and her toned arms were bare in a red sleeveless top. She looked toward the island with a smile curving her pink lips, and her face was pensive as if she was lost in thought. Their gazes locked, and he knew she remembered this place as well as he did.
The canoe bumped the sand, and he kicked off his flip-flops and jumped over the side to haul it onto the shore. Shrubs and small trees started at the edge of the sand, but picnickers had cleared the highest point. The last time they were here, there was a grill, a table, and a fire pit.
He helped the girls out of the canoe, then pulled it well out of the water and picked up the picnic basket and grilling supplies. Mallory grabbed the old blanket and the cooler of water bottles. Brambles along the rocky path scratched at his bare legs, so he held them out of the way so the girls didn’t encounter any thorns. The dog nimbly guided Sadie up the slope, and she only stumbled on the rough ground a couple of times. Different terrains like this were good for her to experience.
They reached the wildflower meadow at the top, and he set the picnic basket down on the table. “Doesn’t look like anyone has been here yet this year.” Dead leaves had collected around the grill and the table, and debris choked the fire pit.
He got busy cleaning things out with the old broom someone had left here long ago, then took the girls to his favorite fishing spot and got them started. “You need to catch us some lunch.”
Haylie wrinkled her nose. “How can we eat it with heads and scales?”
“I brought my fillet knife. Your job is to catch it. Mine is to make sure it’s ready to eat.”
“What’s Mom’s job?”
“To look beautiful.” He slanted a grin Mallory’s way and chuckled when her face went pink.
“Gross,” Haylie said.
“You look just like her so I’d be careful about saying something like that.”
“I do?” Haylie tucked a strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear, and her bracelet tinkled on her arm.
“Yep.”
“You like my mom, don’t you? Did you use to date or something?”
Mallory tossed a worm at her. “Don’t say it like me dating was the most distasteful thing you can imagine.”
“Ew!” Haylie stared at the squirming worm. “I don’t have to bait the hook myself, do I?”
Kevin chuckled. “A real fisherman knows how to bait the hook.”
“Then I’ll only be a pretend fisherman. You bait it.” Haylie thrust her pole at him.
“I can put the worm on the hook myself. Look.” Sadie gently felt along the line and hook, then tested the point a bit. Then she wound the worm onto it as if she could see every movement.
“Good job.” Kevin tossed the line into the water for her. “Whoever catches a fish first gets to pick what we do the rest of the day.”
“No fair. Sadie is the only one with a line in the water. Can you put the worm on for me? Please?”
“I’ll do it, you little chicken.” He baited the hook, then threw the line in.
Mallory retreated a few feet away to a rock where she stretched out her long legs. Kevin watched her a few moments as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. She opened her eyes again as he approached.
“You look like a sleek black cat sunning itself.” He squatted beside her and picked up a handful of sand to let it run through his clenched fist.
She smiled. “You always did like to do that. What’s so fun about letting the sand run out?”
“I used to do it just because it felt good, kind of mind-numbingly rhythmic. As I’ve gotten older I watch the sand and imagine that they’re seconds of time. Every single one might be all we have. I look at Sadie and want to make sure I do right by her. I think about my job and sometimes wonder if I’m making a difference at all. The sand is a reminder that this day is the only one we might have to do something that will change someone’s life.”
“How philosophical you sound. Most days I’m just trying to make it through in one piece and don’t think about the bigger picture.” Her gaze wandered over to the girls. “Life is moving by like a fast-flowing river. I want to build a dam to slow it down, but it just keeps churning along. Most of the time I
can barely hold my head above water.”
He let the rest of the sand run out through his fingers, then brushed off his palm on his shorts before plucking her hand up. “You’ve been pensive ever since you saw your aunt this morning. Is everything all right?”
Her fingers tightened around his. “Aunt Blanche kind of yelled at me for blaming myself for Mom’s death. She asked me what made me think I could control the situation when God decided a person’s time was up. I hadn’t thought about it like that, I guess. I realized that being in control is just an illusion. I really have no control at all.” Her chuckle was halfhearted. “I’m not sure I like that realization.”
He picked up more sand and turned her hand over so her palm was up, then trickled some sand into it. “We just do the best we can today with the time we’re given.”
Her full lips curved up, and she leaned over to brush a kiss across his cheek. “You’re the best man I know.”
He grinned. “You smell like gunpowder. Been practicing with my gun?”
“Gotta stay accurate.”
He reached over to cup her cheek. Before he could kiss her properly, Haylie shrieked that she caught a fish.
“Later,” he whispered to Mallory.
Kevin stared out the window of the SUV as they passed budding trees along a long dirt driveway. He’d spent the morning beside his father in a silent ride echoing with recriminations. His dad’s cold shoulder had done nothing but reinforce Kevin’s determination never to be like that. When he was growing up, he’d thought his dad put the stars in place. Back then, there had been lots of smiles, throwing around a football, and fishing trips with Kevin and his brother.
What had changed Dad into such a bitter, unforgiving man? Kevin had never stopped to think about what might have caused him to change over the years. He’d been so different when Kevin was a kid. Maybe his parents’ marriage had been unhappy under the surface, and that knowledge had fueled his father’s desire to make sure Kevin didn’t make a mistake.
What Dad didn’t know was that while Mom’s pregnancy might have ruined his life, Mallory’s pregnancy had set Kevin free.
His dad stopped the SUV at a ramshackle house. Kevin looked around for the woman he’d talked to last night. “I was called out here the other night and captured a rabid fox.”
His dad didn’t answer but shoved open his door and stepped out as the vehicle dinged a warning. Kevin reached over and snatched the keys from the ignition. One of these days someone was going to steal his dad’s SUV. Kevin got out and jogged after his dad, who marched up to the door and pounded on it.
“Game warden,” his dad called out.
While they waited, Kevin glanced around the scruffy yard. An old ’57 pickup on blocks sat under a dead tree. Tin cans, beer bottles, and an old radiator littered the side yard. A rusting baby swing was upended under another tree. The place hardly looked lived in, but he’d been out here recently so he knew the owner had to be around somewhere.
“I’ll check the barn.” He pointed to the wooden structure behind the house. Barn was too nice of a word for the graying building with half the roof falling in.
The lock was broken, so he opened the latch and struggled with the screeching hinges to open the door. “Hello? Mr. Kennedy?”
He stepped inside the dusty-smelling building. A rustling sound made him wheel to the right, and he saw a man crouching in the dirty straw. “Mr. Kennedy?”
The man made a strange sound, a choked garble. He scrabbled back into the corner when Kevin took a step that direction, and his change of position put the man into a shaft of light streaming through a large hole in the side of the structure. Abraham Kennedy.
Kevin held out his hand. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. It’s Game Warden O’Connor, Mr. Kennedy.”
The door behind him scraped, and his father stepped inside behind him. “What’s going on?”
His dad’s gruff voice galvanized Kennedy into action. He leaped to his feet, and howling incomprehensible syllables, he rushed at them both. Kevin stepped aside, but his dad didn’t move as fast, and Kennedy barreled into him. Spittle flew from his mouth, and he grabbed the older man’s throat with his hands.
The guy has rabies.
It took a second for the reality to jolt Kevin into a response. He grabbed the man by the collar and tried to haul him off his father, but Kennedy screamed harder and gnashed his teeth at his victim.
His father’s face was ashen as he struggled to avoid being bitten by the enraged man.
Kevin put Kennedy in a choke hold and finally managed to drag him off his father, but he ducked his head and bit at Kevin’s arm. His teeth snagged Kevin’s sleeve, and Kevin struggled to gain control of him.
“Dad, cuff him!” He wrestled Kennedy to the ground again, but the man was getting harder and harder to control.
His father whipped out handcuffs and leaped atop the other man. Finally wresting Kennedy’s hands behind his head, Kevin’s father managed to slap the cuffs on him, but Kennedy continued to moan and lunge at Kevin.
Without thinking, Kevin reached out to grab the man’s shoulder. “Calm down, Mr. Kennedy.”
In an instant the man sank his teeth into the exposed skin on Kevin’s wrist. The pain barely registered before Kevin yanked his hand away.
His father grabbed the man’s collar and yanked him back, tied him to the wall with a length of rope he found, then stepped away.
Kennedy continued to lunge toward them. “No, don’t! Red eyes!”
The dismay in his dad’s eyes made the gravity of what had just happened sink in.
Kevin stared at the bite on his arm. The man’s teeth had broken the skin, and blood oozed from the wound. A series of rabies shots was in his future for sure.
His father grabbed his arm. “We have to wash that.”
He half dragged Kevin to the house and kicked in the door. The house reeked of something rotten, and Kevin stumbled over garbage on the floor as his dad shoved him to the sink and turned on the hot water. His father rolled up his shirtsleeve, then lathered the wound with dish soap and warm water. The sting of the soap finally penetrated the fog surrounding Kevin.
“At least you’ve had some rabies vaccines. You won’t need immune globulin, just two more vaccines.”
Kevin grabbed a piece of paper towel from a holder on the wall, then patted his arm dry. “We’d better call for an ambulance for Kennedy.”
“And for you.”
“I’ll be fine.” His gaze met his dad’s, and for the first time in years he saw a hint of the father he remembered.
THIRTY-FOUR
The sting of antiseptic hit Mallory’s nose as she rushed through the ER doors and approached the registration desk. “A game warden was just brought in with a rabies bite. Kevin O’Connor.”
The receptionist, a pudgy brunette in her midforties, looked at her over the top of her glasses. “I didn’t think he was married. Who are you?”
“A-a good friend. He called me.” He’d actually texted her and told her not to worry, that he’d be home as soon as he could. But she’d asked Carol and Kate to stay with Sadie and had rushed here.
The woman pursed her lips, then pointed to Mallory’s right. “Through those doors. I’ll open them for you. He’s in room three.”
Mallory went toward them and they opened. She hurried down the hall, her feet slipping a little on the highly polished vinyl tile floors. She skirted an aide pushing an old man in a wheelchair and found room three. A doctor and nurse turned at her entrance, but her gaze went straight to Kevin, who was sitting on the edge of the examining table.
The nurse, a pretty blonde in her twenties, stepped aside to allow Mallory to go to Kevin’s side. His welcoming smile lifted her anxiety a notch.
She looked at his wound. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. “A man bit you, really?”
On the way here she’d had visions of skin torn and bloodied, but from what she could see, it was a simple bite.
His
smile dimmed. “Poor guy has rabies. I checked on him six weeks ago when he reported a rabid fox, and he assured me he hadn’t been bitten. But I think he was just afraid of the rabies shots. Lots of people think they’re painful, but they aren’t that bad anymore.”
“Rabies?” The blood rushed from her head. “Will the vaccine fix it for sure?”
He nodded. “I had two vaccines already since I’m in a high-risk group with my job. The painful part of the treatment is the immune globulin, which has to be packed around the wound to prevent the virus from spreading, but I don’t have to have that done.”
“No stomach shots?”
He took her hand. “See, that’s what most people think. But it’s just an intramuscular shot into the arm now. I already had it, and I’ll get another one in three days.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll be fine. I can’t say the same for Kennedy. It’s fatal.”
The doctor turned toward the door. “I think we’re about done here, Warden. You can go home as soon as the nurse puts on an antibiotic and dressing.”
“I’ll step out to the waiting room and call Carol and Kate. They were both at the house when you texted me, and they’re waiting for news. I can run you home. You don’t have a vehicle here, do you?”
He released her hand and shook his head. “Dad brought me over. I told him to go on home. So I’ll just ride with you.”
She left him with the nurse and hurried to the waiting room. When she was digging in her purse for her phone, she saw his dad sitting in the corner by the vending machine. Her stomach plunged, but she approached him anyway.
His head was down as he perused a magazine, and he didn’t look up until she cleared her throat. “Mr. O’Connor, I saw you sitting here and thought maybe you were waiting for news of Kevin.”
His face was a forbidding mask of frowning disapproval, and she felt about as welcome as a flea. “The nurse is bandaging his arm now. They washed it and he got a shot.”
Mermaid Moon Page 22
