Bridge to Forever

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  “I’ll pick you up,” Brenda finished.

  Mickelle hung up the phone after agreeing to be ready at six-thirty for the dance. She knew that for Brenda, who was notoriously late for everything not related to her job or her children, that meant at least six-forty.

  How would Damon react if he knew she was going to a dance?

  Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him.

  Humming, she made her way back to the kitchen, wondering if there were any more pancakes left.

  Chapter Four

  Damon arrived at his home in Alpine, where Tanner and Belle promptly urged him to bed. He compromised by lying on the couch in the game room, in front of the wide-screen TV. There he could rest and keep an eye on Tanner and his friends as they played pool.

  A vision of Mickelle sobbing on the porch tormented him. He had comforted her and had promised friendship, hoping that would release her from the pressure she was obviously experiencing. The plan had worked, at least until he had told her to keep the ring.

  Had he had done the right thing? Would she be angry at him for not allowing her to return the diamond? Probably. But everything he had told her was true. He only hoped his words hadn’t triggered another panic attack.

  He was content for Mickelle to keep the ring. The diamond’s heart shape represented his love for her. His heart. As long as she didn’t give it back he had a chance to convince her to keep it forever. Apparently, it would take more time than he expected, but he wasn’t going to give up. Bridges that withstood time sometimes took years to build, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to wait that long.

  He worried about Mickelle until he fell asleep. When he awoke it was dark outside and Tanner and his friends were gone. Belle was gazing down at him with a worried expression, her face only inches away from his own. He blinked in surprise.

  “Dinner’s been ready for a long time,” she informed him gravely, adjusting the brown teddy bear and the plastic horse in her arms. “But you just keep on sleeping.”

  “What?” He looked at the wall clock. “Seven. Already?”

  “Brionney’s in the kitchen.” Belle thumbed over her shoulder. “She said for me to leave you alone, but I didn’t want you to starve. You didn’t eat lunch, either.”

  Giving her a smile, Damon gathered her into his arms. She sighed with contentment. “Did you eat lunch?” he asked. Cammy, their part-time cook, wasn’t on duty today. In fact, she’d recently married and given up her room in the basement to move into an apartment in Provo, where her husband was going to school. Now she came only on weekdays to make dinner, which she left in the oven or the refrigerator. Since Damon and the kids had been eating with Mickelle, they usually had a lot of leftovers.

  Belle made a face. “Tanner cooked me a corndog in the microwave. I don’t think I like those anymore. But I ate it.”

  “Good girl.” Damon pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. It badly needed combing, but it smelled clean. Mickelle must have given her a bath the night before.

  Sorrow hit him deep inside his chest as it always did when he thought how desperately Belle needed a mother. He did as well as a father could, but the little things often escaped him—the how-to of braids and ribbons, the nuances of dress. What would he do when she began dating? When she had problems at school with her girlfriends that were just too tender to share with a man—even a father? He ached to think that Belle wouldn’t have a woman to whom she could turn.

  Mickelle, she’ll have Mickelle.

  He held on to this hope, not only for his daughter but for himself. Mickelle filled his life when he hadn’t even known how much was missing. He stifled a heartfelt sigh.

  As if she sensed his mood, Belle’s tiny arms went around his neck, invoking a warm feeling of fatherly love. She was a wonderful child. Maybe he hadn’t done so shabbily after all.

  “I’ll go tell Brionney you’re awake.” Belle’s voice lowered. “Don’t tell her I came in here, okay? She didn’t want me to, but I had to make sure you were breathing.”

  “All right, Belle,” Damon agreed, wincing at her obvious preoccupation. He silently thanked God that he had not drowned.

  Funny how things can change so quickly, he thought. A diagnosis of cancer and Charlotte was ripped away from him; a slip in the pool and the walls around Mickelle’s heart were firmly back in place. But he would not sit around and mourn yesterday. He was going to talk to Mickelle, to urge her to visit her doctor or to resume seeing the grief counselor she’d talked with briefly after Riley’s death. Most of all, he’d be her friend, no matter how much self-control or time it took.

  He dragged himself to a sitting position on the couch, reached for the phone on the side table by the lamp, and punched in Mickelle’s number. While he waited for someone to pick up, he gingerly felt the lump on his head. It ached painfully, but he was no longer dizzy.

  “Hello?”

  Damon recognized Bryan’s voice. Of everyone in the house, Damon had hoped not to talk to him. Despite his repeated attempts to befriend the boy, he refused to respond to his efforts. Damon was at the end of his wits trying to reach him, though they found some connection when they played basketball or soccer together at Mickelle’s. Besides this, Bryan seemed to want nothing to do with him.

  “Hi, Bry. Damon here.”

  “Oh, hi.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  “Fine.”

  “Good. Is your mom there?”

  “Nope. She went out.”

  “Out?” Damon was disturbed at the hint of smugness in his reply.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you tell me where?”

  “I don’t know. Some dance.”

  A dance? That didn’t make sense. The feeling he’d received from Mickelle was that she wasn’t ready for any relationship, not just one with him. “Who’d she go with?” Damon tried to make his voice casual.

  “A friend, I guess. I didn’t see her leave. They picked her up.” Bryan’s voice had a tinge of amusement now, and Damon wished he could ask to talk to Jeremy. The younger child would shed a considerable more amount of light on the subject. Had Mickelle gone with a man?

  He grimaced at the thought. When they’d first started dating, she’d also been dating a baby-faced cop, some years her junior. She’d stopped dating him soon after meeting Damon, even calling off their last date in favor of one with him. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

  He did some fast thinking and said, “Is there a place I can reach her?”

  “Some church. Not sure where.”

  “Oh.” That explained it. A church dance for singles. As one of the most eligible bachelors in Utah Valley, he’d been invited, of course, but hadn’t given a second thought to attending. Not with marriage to Mickelle already on his agenda.

  All at once, the relief he felt at knowing where Mickelle was, changed to a feeling of consternation. There would be a number of men searching for spouses at that dance, and Mickelle was a beautiful, funny, intelligent woman who was more vulnerable than she liked to admit.

  One thing was certain: Damon wasn’t getting much help from Bryan. “Well, thanks, Bry. See you Monday.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  The phone went dead. Damon tried not to be angry or hurt by either Bryan’s or Mickelle’s actions, but the image of her dancing the night away in someone else’s arms was almost too much to bear.

  “I’ll go myself,” he said suddenly.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” came a voice from the door.

  He glanced up to see Brionney carrying a steaming plate of food on a tray. “Oh, hi. Belle told me you were here.”

  “I told her to stay out of here. You need your rest.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “That lump on your head doesn’t look so good. Then there’s that small matter of you almost drowning.”

  “Okay, so I’m not exactly fine, but I’m still going.”

  She shoved the plate into his hands. “Eat,” she orde
red. “Where is it you think you’re going?”

  He stared at her, unwilling to admit anything.

  “Better hurry. I left the twins in the kitchen and any minute now they might find their way into your study. They know how to climb.”

  Defeated, Damon swallowed the food he’d shoveled into his mouth. “A dance. I’m bored and I need to go to a dance.”

  “What?” She spied the phone next to him on the couch and scooped it up, pushing the redial button. “Hello, Bryan. It’s Aunt Brionney. Is your mom there? No? Where? With who? Oh, I see. No, just tell her I called.”

  Brionney tossed the phone onto the couch. “You are so transparent.”

  He shrugged and continued eating. “I’m going.” He wanted to ask who Mickelle had gone with, but his pride wouldn’t let him.

  “No you aren’t, because you need to rest for at least two days, doctor’s orders. There’s too much risk of blacking out while you’re driving.”

  “You drive then.”

  “What about the twins? Besides, I have to get home to my family.”

  “I’ll take a taxi.”

  “What about Belle? She needs you now.”

  He knew that, but . . . “I have to talk to Mickelle.”

  “There’s always tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow may be too late.”

  “You can’t force her,” Brionney said. “Give her some space. When she realizes what she’s missing, she’ll come around. You certainly won’t help anything by showing up tonight. She told me today that she can’t go through what she did when Riley died. You need to prove to her that you can take care of yourself so you will be around. She needs reassurance, guarantees.”

  Damon froze. “I have more money than I could use in a hundred lifetimes,” he said in a choked voice. “I can give her anything she could ever want. Except that. Nobody can.”

  Brionney reached out to pat him on the hand. “I know, and she knows, too. But it’s hard to tell that to her heart. I think this is something only time can heal. She has to love you enough to be willing to take the risk.”

  “Are you saying she doesn’t love me?”

  “I’m only saying that right now the idea of not loving you seems safer than loving and losing again. Don’t feel so bad—that shows she cares. If she didn’t, she might just marry you for your money.”

  “I’d settle for that, at this point.”

  A smile played on Brionney’s lips. “No you wouldn’t.”

  Damon settled back onto the couch, pondering his options. Brionney was right about everything. All his instincts told him to go after Mickelle and fight for the woman he loved, but Brionney’s womanly intuitions had never led him astray. Maybe he could use a different tactic. “Could I at least send flowers?” he asked, rubbing his jaw.

  Brionney nodded approvingly. “Now you’re talking. I’ll go get you the phone book.”

  Chapter Five

  Mickelle spent the first few moments at the dance hoping to see Damon walk through the door. The idea was ludicrous, because if he had, she would have been furious at him for not taking care of himself. None of her feelings made sense, but she was not going to analyze them now.

  Since Damon left her house that morning she’d been free from panic attacks. She hoped they’d been triggered by his accident and would no longer plague her. If not, she would have to return to the doctor, much as she disliked admitting defeat.

  She sighed loudly.

  “Oh, I know!” Brenda whispered emphatically, running a hand through her mid-length brown hair. Her small green eyes gleamed with excitement.

  They were sitting in a prominent place by the door to the cultural hall where they could see everyone who entered. And be seen. Mickelle felt awkward, as though she’d suddenly been thrust back into high school when it hadn’t been all that fun the first time around. How did Brenda handle this? Mickelle began to wish she hadn’t come. I did it just to prove I can be without Damon, she admitted. Too bad he wasn’t here to see it.

  Mickelle sighed again.

  “Don’t just sigh about it, go meet him!”

  “What?”

  Brenda’s attention was on a man who had paused at the entrance, head moving slightly as he surveyed the group. He was drop-dead gorgeous with sleek black hair combed neatly to the side, perfect facial features tanned to a light bronze, and blue eyes that could rival Brionney’s for their unusual beauty. Except for his average height, his figure was also the epitome of a perfect male, with broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist, and arms strong with sculpted muscles. His short-sleeved polo was open slightly at the neck, showing a tuft of dark curls that somehow reminded Mickelle of Damon.

  “He is one good-looking guy,” she admitted.

  Brenda giggled. “Guess what? I know him! I’ve told him all about you and he wants to meet you!”

  “Me?” Mickelle was confused, but before she could protest more, Brenda dragged her from the metal chair and propelled her in the man’s direction. Everything was happening too fast.

  “Colton!” Brenda called. Mickelle tried to stop their movement, but Brenda was substantially heavier and had physics on her side. Instead, she tried simply to maintain her balance.

  The man called Colton caught sight of them and smiled, his blue eyes gleaming like sapphires under water. “Hello, Brenda.”

  “Colton Scofield, meet Mickelle Hansen. Mickelle, this is Colton. We met at the last activity.”

  “Hi, Mickelle.” Colton took her hand and inclined his head. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “You have?” Mickelle cast a bewildered glance at Brenda. The women hadn’t known each other long, so how on earth had she told him so much?

  He saw her glance. “Not just from Brenda, here, but from another friend of mine who attends church with you. She works at the hospital.”

  “Oh.” Mickelle still didn’t know why they would be discussing her.

  “It’s because of my job, you see,” Colton confessed, flashing a brilliant smile that took her breath a way—despite her determination not to be impressed by his appearance. “I deal with life insurance claims, checking out fraud cases. When that comes up, people talk about cases they know where people didn’t get their insurance money.”

  Mickelle tried to hide her grimace. Her only experience with a life insurance company was when Riley’s insurance had denied her coverage because of the suicide policy. Three weeks. He had killed himself three weeks before the suicide clause on his policy had expired. The lack of insurance had forced her to struggle for months to make ends meet until she began watching Damon’s children. She knew he paid her more than she deserved, but she’d accepted the offer to be at home when her children might need her. Eventually she intended to complete college and find a job, perhaps teaching somewhere.

  Colton’s hand rose to her shoulder, sending warmth throughout her body at the unexpected contact. “When I heard about your case, I thought it darned unfair. If you want I can look into it. I have connections at almost every insurance company around.”

  Mickelle shrugged. “My father checked into it. I’m sure he did everything that could be done.”

  “Sometimes it helps if you know someone.” Colton’s smile was warm and full of confidence, and Mickelle felt a burgeoning hope. The deep dimple in his left cheek was extremely attractive, and she wanted to keep making him smile so she could study it.

  “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all. Now would you like to dance?”

  “Sure.”

  Mickelle let him lead her to the dance floor, wondering why he would pick her over all the many beautiful women in the room. She glanced over her shoulder at Brenda, who gave her the thumbs-up signal. She didn’t seem the least bit depressed that Colton had chosen Mickelle for a partner.

  “Do you know Brenda well?” she asked as she began dancing, feeling awkward again. How long had it been since she’d actually danced with a man? Much too long
. She tried to copy the other dancers without being too obvious about it, but her movements were jerky.

  “Not really.” Unlike her, Colton was a beautiful dancer; she could have enjoyed just watching him move. “I met her at the last activity. On another occasion I went to lunch with a group of singles, and she was there on her lunch hour. That woman has so much energy, I get exhausted just watching her.”

  Mickelle chuckled. “She does at that, but she’s a wonderful person.”

  “Pretty, too,” he agreed. “But not really my type.” The remark seemed to be a compliment, although Mickelle wasn’t sure why Brenda wouldn’t be his type.

  The music was louder than she expected, and Mickelle fell silent, except for a few exchanged comments with Colton. She found herself enjoying the rhythm as she loosened up and her movements became more natural.

  The music changed to a slow song, and Colton opened his arms in an endearing invitation that Mickelle couldn’t refuse. She nodded and brought one hand to his shoulder and placed the other in his. Colton’s hand slid around her back, pulling her closer, but not uncomfortably so. His smile made her forget to be nervous.

  “You have children?” she asked, glad they could talk now without the loud music.

  “No.” His voice sounded regretful. “I mean, I did, but they . . . uh, died. It’s a bit of a story that I won’t go into right now, but after my sons died, my wife and I broke up. Losing our sons was just too much for our relationship.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mickelle said, mentally kicking herself. Trust her to choose the one topic he was sensitive about.

  “So am I, but we go on. It’s been a long time—ten years.”

  “You’re still single?” That surprised her. She imagined he would have a whole entourage of women suitors.

  “I’ve dated quite a bit but haven’t found the right woman yet. What about you? Do you have children?”

  “Two boys.”

  “Sounds fun.” Since Brenda had warned her about single men and their aversion to children who weren’t theirs, his wide grin took her by surprise. “Do they like soccer?”