Someday Soon

by Debbie Macomber

  “It’s not fair to blame Linette for what happened to Cain,” Keller mumbled, not sounding any too sure.

  “You’re damn right I blame her.” Murphy tossed Linette another of his menacing looks. “Now that I think about it, Cain hasn’t been himself for a good long time. Next thing we know, he’ll be applying for a regular job just so he can keep his sweetie-pie happy. Women and mercenaries simply don’t mix.”

  “The nurse told me she thinks Cain’s made a turn for the better since Linette’s arrival.” It was Keller again, looking slightly embarrassed at Murphy’s accusations.

  “Who’s to say that Linette had anything to do with it?” Murphy argued. “Cain’s got the best medical team in the world working on him. You might credit the doctors.”

  “He was as good as dead, and we both know it.”

  The two men faced off, glaring at each other. “I say it was Linette,” Keller returned heatedly.

  “Please, don’t,” Linette pleaded. She placed herself between the two of them. Each man was several inches taller than she. Linette braced her hands against their chests, feeling a little like Samson between two giant pillars. Samson without hair, weakened and blind.

  “The last thing you should be doing is fighting,” she told them, struggling to remain calm herself.

  “Then leave,” Murphy told her.

  “No,” she returned evenly, although her heart was in turmoil.

  “She has every right to stay if she wants,” Keller insisted. “Cain needs her.”

  “The hell he does. Deliverance Company is Cain’s life. He doesn’t need anything more than that.”

  What Murphy said was true. The message had been delivered by Cain personally months earlier. “All right. All right, I’ll leave,” she said, shocking both men.

  They diverted their attention to her. Keller’s eyes were filled with what looked like disappointment, and Murphy’s shone with intense satisfaction. He’d gotten what he wanted.

  “But in my own time,” she amended. “When I’m sure Cain will recover.”

  She’d leave, she decided, when her heart had the strength to walk away from him. Again. But this would be the last time.

  “When?” The question came from Murphy and was no surprise.

  “Soon,” she promised.

  “Not soon enough,” Murphy muttered, then turned and walked away.

  Cain sensed a difference in Linette. She was gentle and encouraging as always, yet it felt as if she were miles away emotionally. She’d erected a roadblock between the two of them. It wasn’t what she said or how she behaved; it was mental, and it confused the hell out of him.

  The effort demanded to open his mouth was beyond comprehension. Saying her name proved to be a test of sheer physical endurance. The lone word worked its way up his throat, catching on emotion and gratitude.

  “L-in—ette.”

  “Cain?” Her voice elevated with joy. “I’m here.” She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles repeatedly. He felt moisture against the back of his hand and knew she wept silently.

  He wanted to tell her so many things and struggled valiantly to remain conscious. No longer did the cold plague him. He was warm and comfortable and within minutes fighting the lull of sleep.

  Days blended one into the other with barely a notice. Cain was able to calculate the time by which nurse was on duty. The older nurse with white hair and angel eyes worked the graveyard shift. The pert brunette was with him from three to eleven. One named Hazel who arrived early in his day. Days of the week were more difficult to figure.

  None of it mattered as long as Linette was with him. Each day was a gift to be cherished.

  Then, when he’d mastered the ability to remain conscious for more than three or four minutes at a time, Linette left him. It might have taken him some time to realize she was gone if it hadn’t been for Murphy.

  “Where’s Linette?” he asked his friend.

  “Gone.”

  Cain felt as though someone had knifed him. “Gone?”

  “You don’t need her.”

  “What made her go?” Cain demanded, his voice shockingly weak.

  “She has responsibilities. It’s better this way, don’t you think?”

  Cain rolled his head to one side, unwilling to answer. Better for whom? Him? Not likely. It would have been a kindness to let him die rather than nurse him back from the brink of death and then doom him to a fate of loneliness.

  He hadn’t asked her to come, Cain reminded himself. He wasn’t entirely sure who had told her he’d been injured. Mallory, most likely, but how he ever found out about her, Cain couldn’t guess.

  “You don’t need her,” Murphy went on to say.

  Once more Cain didn’t respond.

  “There’s nothing like a woman to screw up a man’s thinking. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Cain forced a nod. He might was well admit the truth. Murphy was right. He’d proved he could make it without Linette, and she sure as hell didn’t need the likes of him.

  “She’s beautiful.” Linette sat in Nancy’s living room and gently cradled her sister-in-law’s newborn baby daughter in her arms. A wealth of emotion filled her as she studied this perfect child. “Welcome, little Michelle,” she whispered, her voice soft and low.

  “We named her after Michael,” Nancy said, studying Linette. Home from the hospital for only two days, the other woman looked fabulous. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Michael would be so pleased and proud,” Linette whispered. “He’d consider it a great honor. I do, too.” It came to Linette then how freely she could speak of her dead husband these days. Generally when his name cropped up, she experienced a sudden, crushing sense of loss. She wasn’t sure when this had changed, but she was grateful.

  With her index finger, Linette outlined Michelle’s plump, pink face. The infant smelled of baby powder and summer and was precious beyond words. The love Linette experienced for this new life flooded her heart.

  “Mom and Dad came to visit me while I was in the hospital,” Nancy said casually, but it seemed to Linette that her sister-in-law was studying her, waiting for some response.

  “I imagine they were thrilled to death with Michelle.” Linette knew Nancy’s relationship with her parents had been strained since the Christmas holidays. She hoped that this birth in their family would bridge their differences.

  “They were very pleased we named her after Michael.”

  Linette nodded. That much was understood.

  “They asked about you,” Nancy said. “They wanted to know if you were still involved with Cain.”

  “What did you tell them?” It grieved Linette that her last meeting with Michael’s parents had ended so badly.

  “I thought you were dating Charles Garner, but when I called to tell you about the baby, Bonnie told me you were on some Caribbean island, and that Cain McClellan had been badly injured.”

  “I was with Cain,” she admitted reluctantly. “It didn’t look like he was going to live.”

  “I see.”

  Perhaps Nancy did. At their last conversation, Linette had claimed it was over between her and Cain and that she was dating someone else.

  Charles. If she were suffering regrets, it was over her brief relationship with the attorney. She hadn’t phoned him since her return, and she wouldn’t now. Their last conversation had gone poorly. She’d tried to explain why she was leaving for Grenada so abruptly. She’d told him about Cain’s injuries and that it was a matter of life and death.

  Charles had grown cold and angry and insisted she stay in San Francisco. Linette had never seen this side of him and pointed out that he had no right to demand anything of her. He’d called her a fool, and perhaps she was, but then so be it. She refused to allow him to make decisions for her.

  Later, when she’d had time to think over their heated conversation, Linette decided it was best not to see Charles again. Clearly he expected more from her than she was willing to give.
>
  “What about Charles?” Nancy asked, disrupting Linette’s thoughts.

  Linette answered with a short shake of her head.

  “But I thought you liked him?”

  “I was crazy about his boys,” Linette admitted, and experienced a deep twinge of regret. “Unfortunately their father isn’t nearly as appealing.”

  “What about Cain?” The question was low, as if Nancy were afraid of asking. “Oh, Linette, I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “There’s no need. I sincerely doubt that I’ll be seeing Cain again, either.”

  “But you’d like to?”

  Linette didn’t need long to think over her reply. “Yes.”

  “How can you say that, knowing what he does?”

  Linette laughed softly and pressed her lips against the sleeping infant’s brow. “I suppose I should have learned my lesson a long time ago,” she admitted, but it was all wishful thinking, and she knew it. She expected never to see Cain again, but that didn’t mean she would stop loving him.

  The doorbell chimed. Eight-year-old Christopher darted across the living room carpet as if he expected to find Santa Claus on the other side. Before Nancy could stand or Linette could place Michelle inside the ruffle-laden bassinet, Christopher had thrown open the door.

  “Grandma,” the boy cried with delight.

  “How’s the big brother doing?” Jake Collins asked, ruffling Christopher’s hair.

  “I hope you don’t mind us dropping by unexpectedly like this,” Janet said, walking into the room. She hesitated, looking uncertain when she saw Linette.

  “Hello, Janet,” Linette greeted them, wanting to put her mother-in-law at ease.

  “Hello, Linette.” Michael’s mother’s voice stiffened, and she glanced toward her husband as if she weren’t sure what she should do next.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Jake said, and walked over to study his newest grandchild. “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?”

  “Daddy, I think you might be considered prejudiced!” Nancy chided him.

  “She’s the most beautiful little girl in the world to me,” her father protested. “The spitting image of you at that age.”

  Janet sat down across the room from Linette. “How are you feeling, Nancy?”

  “Absolutely wonderful.”

  “She had the baby naturally, you know.” This comment was directed with pride at Linette.

  “No, I didn’t. Congratulations, Nancy.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without Rob. He was a great coach, and the difference between Christopher’s birth and Michelle’s is like night and day. I feel great.”

  “Would you like to hold Michelle?” Linette asked Janet.

  Janet smiled and nodded.

  Careful, so as not to disturb the baby, Linette stood and gently placed the tiny bundle in Michael’s mother’s arms. It seemed the austere features softened when she received her granddaughter.

  “If this keeps up much longer, Michelle will expect to be held all the time,” Nancy protested, but without conviction.

  “I’ll hold her whenever you need,” Janet volunteered, and cooed at the infant. “That’s my job. What good is it to be a grandmother if I can’t spoil my grandchildren?”

  Christopher found it imperative to show his grandfather something in his room, and soon afterward Nancy went to place the freshly washed diapers in the dryer. Unexpectedly, Linette was left alone with Janet.

  The silence was heavy between them. Linette worked to formulate the words to show her regret over their last meeting, but before she could begin, Janet spoke.

  “I’m pleased we have this opportunity alone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve done a good deal of thinking in the months since January. I don’t agree with everything you said, but I concede that you might have a point.” She lowered her head slightly. “Losing Michael, well…you of all people can appreciate how difficult it was. Although it’s been nearly three years now…” She hesitated and bit into her lower lip. “I loved my son….”

  “I loved him, too,” Linette said gently. She walked across the room and sat on the sofa next to Janet. She’d forgotten how small her mother-in-law was and looped her arm around her fragile shoulders.

  “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about you in the past several months,” Janet said. “Jake and I’ve missed you terribly. When Michael died we felt we still had you, and then…There’s no need to rehash our disagreement, but since New Year’s Day, Jake and I’ve had a number of talks, and he’s helped me realize how wrong I’ve been. I had no right to expect you to dedicate your life to Michael’s memory.”

  “I regret our disagreement, too,” Linette said, and gently squeezed her mother-in-law’s shoulders.

  “I didn’t mean what I said about doubting your love for Michael. You were the best thing that ever happened to my son. He told me that himself just before he died. You seemed so strong, and it was far easier to lean on your strength, yours and Jake’s, than accept the fact my son was forever gone from me.”

  Linette hadn’t felt strong, especially in the first few weeks and months following Michael’s passing. She didn’t now.

  “I know that you’re dating other men these days, and I’ve accepted that you’ll probably remarry. Both Jake and I want you to be happy, Linette. You deserve that much.”

  “Thank you.” Her words teetered with emotion.

  “I know I don’t have any right to ask this of you, but when you do remarry, would you allow Jake and me to be grandparents to your children?”

  “Oh, Janet.” Tears filled Linette’s eyes, and she found it impossible to speak for the lump in her throat.

  “I promise you that I won’t pretend the children are yours and Michael’s family. It’s just that Jake and I have come to think of you as our daughter. We love you, Linette, and are truly sorry for the way we behaved.”

  “I think my children would be fortunate to have you and Jake as their grandparents.” A husband and family seemed impossible just then, and Janet’s words produced a soft ache. She longed for a child. Holding Michelle was both a joy and a trial.

  “For weeks I’ve been promising Jake I’d phone you. My heart nearly stopped when I saw you with Nancy, but I knew it was time to make amends. Long past time.”

  “I’m pleased we talked.” She drew in a deep breath at the emotion that hovered so close to the surface. “Michael was blessed to have you and Jake for parents, and I feel the same way to have you as my in-laws.”

  “I still miss him.”

  “I know,” Linette whispered. “I do, too, but it won’t hurt as much with time. I’ll never stop loving Michael, but I don’t desperately cling to my memories of him. They’re a part of me now. Some of the happiest days of my life were spent with him. I’m content now. My frustration and anger are gone, and the pain isn’t as sharp. For the first time in more years than I can remember, I’m looking forward to the future.”

  A tear ran down the side of Janet’s face. “I am, too.”

  As best they could, with Nancy’s infant daughter between them, the two women hugged. That was how Nancy found them—hugging, laughing, and weeping.

  “Hey, you two. If you’re going to have a party, the least you could do is invite me.”

  15

  Francine saw the dust rising from the driveway long before the car came into view. Standing on the back porch, she wrapped her coat about her and pressed her hand against the small of her back. The other hand rested on her stomach, which protruded between the coat’s opening. With three months left before her baby was due, she couldn’t imagine getting any bigger. Already it was difficult to climb in and out of a chair and do the things she was accustomed to.

  “We’ve got company,” she called out to Tim, who was working with Bubba, the most cantankerous of the llamas they owned.

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” Tim answered. She noted that he didn’t take his eyes off Bubba
, and with good reason. He’d learned his lesson the first time.

  “I’m not expecting anyone, either.”

  “Do you recognize the car?”

  “No,” she called back. The vehicle slowed as it rounded the last curve and pulled into the yard.

  Tim stepped out of the corral, removed his hat, and wiped his brow with the back of his forearm.

  “It’s Cain McClellan,” Francine announced excitedly, and hurried down the steps—“hurried” being the operative word. Francine didn’t move all that speedily these days.

  Tim moved to the car, and after Cain climbed out, the two men shook hands, then hugged briefly, slapping each other several times across the back.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” Tim said.

  “I just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Cain said.

  Francine watched, smiling, as the two men laughed at the blatant lie. Vashon Island was its own neighborhood. It had taken some getting used to, living her life according to a ferry schedule. Tim worried about her delivering the baby, but she was confident they’d have plenty of time to get to a hospital.

  Cain’s gaze scanned Francine and lingered at her abdomen. “I see you two have been busy.”

  Tim chuckled. “As best we can figure, I got her pregnant on our wedding night.” His eyes connected with Francine’s. “It’s something of a family tradition.”

  “How are you, Cain?” Francine asked. She knew Tim and his friend frequently exchanged letters and talked occasionally on the phone, but this was the first she’d heard of Cain traveling.

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “Come inside. There’s no need to talk out here in the cold.” Francine led the way into the family-size kitchen. She assembled a pot of coffee while the two men pulled out chairs and sat themselves down at the round oak table.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Tim said, studying his friend. “Damn, but it’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to be here,” Cain returned.

  “How’s everyone?”

  Francine watched her husband, looking for any tell-tale signs that he missed his former life. They rarely discussed Deliverance Company. When she questioned him about the missions, he was tight-lipped. It was as if that part of his life were over and he had to struggle to remember what it was he’d done before they’d been married.