by Cheryl Wyatt
* * *
Mitch knew. He could see the fight in her eyes. The regret. Jealous envy. Remorse. Guilt. Irritation.
All rooted in her fear of losing Lem.
No doubt his disappearance and unknown whereabouts these scary couple of hours gushed it all to the surface for Lauren.
He needed to distract her from fear. “Lauren, will you help me plan Lem’s surprise party for summer’s end?”
She shrugged. “Sure. I plan to stay until his birthday.”
At least she didn’t sound as jealous. He refused to apologize for being there for a man who was there for him when he had needed a dad. Yet her angst over Mitch’s closeness with Lem seemed to scrape against her like a cheese grater.
“Let’s make time for just you and me to plan it,” he said in a lower voice as Ian walked their way. Mitch didn’t want Ian to know he was interested in Lauren. Admittedly, he was. Their bonded fear over losing Lem had blown his cover and brought his feelings to light. He told Ian everything. But to mention this would be insensitive, right? Ian was going through a painful divorce.
Memories of Ian’s agony slammed to the forefront how distance destroys relationships. Memories of his own pain made Mitch wary of falling for someone again so soon.
His guard needed to be all the way up in resisting Lauren’s unwitting charm. He scooted a distance between them now.
Lauren must have mistaken his motion as ill thoughts toward her because shame cloaked her face. He could kick himself. She wasn’t to blame for his past relationship pain.
Yet the last thing he wanted to do was repeat it.
Lauren struggled enough with self-abasement. He didn’t want to add to that. But she was destined for Texas anyhow. Safer for them both to resist the draw he didn’t like admitting was there.
“How often did you and Grandpa talk when you were deployed?” she asked, confirming his suspicions that she’d taken his cold-shoulder maneuver personally. How to remedy this?
“I checked in with him daily when I could. Some weeks I could only check in a few times.”
Lauren’s countenance dipped more. A physically ill look came over her. “I hate that I let time get away from me. That I only managed to talk to him once a week.”
“Fridays.”
Her face lifted. “What?”
“You called Lem every Friday evening at seven sharp.”
“How did you know? Never mind. You know everything about him.” In a blur of flailing arms, she stood, left the center and fled to the lake’s edge. Mitch had followed, yet stood back. She paced the beach, not seeming to know whether to be mad at Mitch or glad she’d been consistent in calling at least.
“Mitch!” Ian waved them inside. They sprinted. As soon as they entered and saw staff scrimmaging around Lem’s bed and how much more swollen he was, Mitch knew what was up. He pulled Lauren back. “Let the specialist handle it.”
She puffed air, her breathing ragged. “What’s happening?”
“Antivenom reaction.” Mitch braced her shoulders while the team worked to reverse or lessen Lem’s reaction.
“The medication was supposed to make him better, not worse.”
“Sometimes it happens.” Mitch rubbed hands along her arms. “They’ll handle it, okay?”
When she looked up at him with the same fear his mom had had the moment she had gotten the call that Mitch’s dad had been in a wreck, Mitch broke inside. He pulled her around so her face would be hidden in his chest. She didn’t need to see everything. “It’s okay. He’ll be okay.” Mitch watched the team to be sure.
Ian intubated Lem, and the specialist gave antidotes through Lem’s IV. Mitch eased Lauren into the hall amid the flurry.
Her face stayed pressed to his chest the entire time. He held her too, drawing strength himself. They prayed together until Ian called them back in. “Coast is clear. He’s stabilizing.”
“Close call.” The specialist waved them to the bedside. “He’s resting now but he’ll have a longer recovery than expected. Let’s keep him overnight.”
Lauren nodded. “Where did his lady friend go?”
“She left for the evening.”
“We should probably let her know.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Brock offered.
“Thanks,” Mitch said. They went to Lem’s bedside and bid him good-night. He was so sedated, Mitch doubted he comprehended. “We’ll be in the waiting room,” he told Lem’s venom specialist.
The man nodded. “We’ll take good care of him. Go rest.”
“His leg looks like it’ll have cellulitis,” Lauren said.
“I wouldn’t doubt it. He’ll probably need help the next couple months as the infection clears. He may not be so mobile.”
She sighed. “One good thing about this. It brought my priorities front and center. At least what they should be. No matter what it takes, I’ll stay as long as he needs me.”
Mitch thought Lem would always need her, emotionally. Physically, it would be touch and go for a while. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”
He walked with Lauren to the waiting room, but resisted the urge to hold her again, though everything in him screamed to.
The last time wreaked havoc with his emotions.
They settled in the waiting room. To his delight, she sat next to him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder. So much for resistance. Mitch just couldn’t. He wrapped an arm around her and they lounged in quiet under subdued lighting.
The Bible on the table kept him centered. “Lauren, just so you know, Friday evenings were his favorite time,” Mitch said when some moments of reflection passed. “He’d wipe everything off his schedule for you, because he knew that’s when you’d call.”
“Still, I feel bad and wish I could redeem the time.”
He hugged her for emphasis. “You can.”
“Can I?” She stood and wrapped her arms around herself. Paced then stepped close, as if needing to read proof in his face as he rose. She shook her head. “Not without that help from God you and Lem are bent on believing in.”
Forget his bruised heart. Lauren’s was wounded far more critically at the moment.
He breached a personal sense of honor to guard his heart like a high-security military compound, braced his hands on her shoulders and hauled her in for the hug of a lifetime.
Mouth against the silky hair nearest her ear, he whispered, “Then perhaps it’s time for you to start believing in them again, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Maybe Mitch was right.
Lauren pondered it the next day on the way to visit Grandpa. After all, they’d prayed and Grandpa was going to be okay, despite two brushes with death.
When Lauren reached the room, Grandpa’s lady friend stepped out. “I thought you might want to see him a minute.”
“Thank you.” Lauren smiled as kindly as she could muster, considering she felt entitled to more than a minute. On the heels of that prickly thought came remorse. She should apologize.
“Hey, carrottop.” Grandpa looked better today, but sleepy.
“Hey, snake charmer.” She rubbed her hand along his.
Grandpa grinned. Knuckles rapped the door. Lauren turned.
“Hiya.” Mitch waved from the hall. As he peered in, it seemed to her that his smile brightened when he saw her.
She went to the door so he’d feel greeted. “You weren’t in the waiting room when I woke, so I figured you were rounding.” Her cheeks tinged, remembering how he’d held her in the stillness and uncertainty until she’d slept. “Thanks for the blanket.”
“My pleasure.” His gaze lingered before sliding over her shoulder to Lem. “He turned that critical corner.”
“I’m so glad. Thank you for the prayers…and e
verything.” He’d been nothing short of a rock last night.
The venom specialist stepped out and let Mitch in. He approached Lem’s bedside, shaking his head and grinning. “Some people will do anything to keep from working on tractors.”
Mitch’s comment made Lem smile. “I did it for attention,” Grandpa teased. “Provoked that snake into pert-near killin’ me.”
“Seriously, they sent the air force after you, Grandpa.”
“Those big choppers were for me?” He seemed utterly proud that such a big deal had been made. “I feel like a war hero.”
“Whose lack of communication sent an entire elite special operations rescue team plus EMS forces on a wild Grandpa chase.”
Smile eradicated, Lem eyed Mitch keenly. “Is she bluffing?”
Mitch shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“Mercy sakes, kids. Sorry for the scare I put you and your friends and crew through. No harm meant. Mitch, your boat’s in Lady’s covered dock. She planned to ask you to oar her out there, but you all scared her away.” He faced Lauren. “Especially you.”
“I’m sorry.” Lauren swiped her forehead. “With all due respect, this search ordeal could have been prevented had you taken your cell phone with you.”
Lem scowled. “Now you sound like Lady Arlington.”
Okay, maybe Lauren liked this lady after all.
“Grandpa, why do you call her Lady Arlington?”
“That’s her name. First name’s ‘Lady.’ Last ‘Arlington.’”
“Sounds like royalty.”
“She is. Way back in her ancestry. British, I believe. Please pass a message to Lady that I’m all right,” Lem said.
“Already took care of it,” Mitch said. “She was here when we got here, but you were sawing logs.”
Lem scratched his head. “Was I?”
“Yep. Snoring so loud you sucked tiles off the ceiling.”
Lem started to look up, then shook his head and blushed.
“Lady said she’ll be back to see you after the library fundraiser meeting,” Lauren said, feeling bristly again for reasons unknown. She stepped closer to Grandpa’s bed than Mitch.
Mitch leaned on the side rail. “Thought she looked familiar. She’s the librarian who recently moved here, right?”
“Right. She’s also someone I’m growing fairly fond of. You okay with that, carrottop?”
Lauren paused, not knowing what to say. Lady wasn’t Grandma, but Grandpa was entitled to live life with who he wanted. “It just shocked me to see you with someone other than Grammy.”
“Carrottop, I’ll never love another woman like I did her.”
“Don’t be so sure, Grandpa. Lady seemed to be really shaken up at the thought of you kicking off. You can tell me.”
Grandpa bristled. “What I can tell you is that before that slithery varmint intruded, we were just two fishing buddies planning a fundraising event.”
“Just buddies? Grandpa, you have matching hats.”
“So what? If it becomes more, you two’ll be first to know.”
Lauren stiffened. There it was again. Grandpa lumping Mitch into the same caliber of importance as her. She cast Mitch a wary look. He watched her carefully. He knew. He sent an empathetic smile her way—but not apologetic. Why would he?
It wasn’t his fault she chose Texas over Grandpa. At least he was being sensitive about it.
The next morning, doctors released Lem, and Mitch helped her get him home. “Why so forlorn, carrottop?” Grandpa said.
She decided to be transparent. “Part of my irritation is because being here has made me see how unhappy I am in Texas.”
Lem rested a tender hand on her cheek. “You were making do. Making the best of it, like you always did growing up. You gotta quit living life believing there’s nothin’ better for you.”
“You’re right. If not for the verbal commitment I made, careers we left, loans and renovations, I could come back.”
Grandpa straightened. “You’re really considering it?” The grin that exploded spurred her to do everything possible to move back home. Strange. Mere weeks ago, she’d considered Texas home.
On Sunday Mitch picked them up for church. On the way, Grandpa chewed his cheek, which made him look funny considering how swollen his face still was. “Maybe you can explain the situation to the bank. Surely they’d understand and have mercy.”
“Somehow, the terms mercy and banks don’t mix.”
Mitch looked as doubtful as Lauren felt, which didn’t give her confidence. Until he said, “God can make a way, Lauren.”
“Sometimes I forget that God is more powerful than a loan officer.” She’d make some crucial phone calls. Talk to her friend. Boy, she dreaded that.
“Bank’ll come around. It’ll work out.”
“Except there’s also the matter of renovation contracts,” Lauren said.
“She’s actually thinkin’ of coming back!” Lem exclaimed.
“And selling my house in a grumpy economy.” Lauren sighed.
“She’s really gonna do it, Mitch!”
“Not if all this doesn’t work out, Grandpa. I’m thinking of all my clients waiting for projects.”
“Someone else’ll do ’em,” Lem said, as though it was a done deal.
“Not when they’ve already paid half up front. And I used that to pay contractors, who are already working.”
“Oh, dear!” His excitement waned. He didn’t have to say it.
But she did. “Seems I’ve built myself a mountainous mess.”
* * *
“You catch that?” Mitch asked Lauren after the pastor gave an uplifting message about God moving mountains.
She laughed. “How could I not? You and Grandpa elbowed my ribs the entire message, which seemed ornately fashioned for me.”
Mitch nestled her in his arm, warm across her back. “Sweet Lauren, I promise prayer changes things.”
She nodded. “I’m beginning to believe again.”
She was also beginning to believe her growing attachment to Mitch wasn’t going to go away. In fact, it seemed not only here to stay but here to proliferate exponentially by the day.
Dangerous considering his stance on romance.
Tomorrow, he may catch on to her and pull away.
She’d let herself enjoy it, if only for today.
She peered up at Mitch. His eyes riveted to hers with a message that seemed to say, if she were moving back, that changed the game for everyone and everything.
Including them.
* * *
He was about to be a goner. One more time of her looking into his eyes like that, and he’d fall to the floor a dead man.
Lauren’s phone rang after she changed Lem’s bandage once they returned from church. “It’s my Texas friend. Pray!”
Mitch and Lem did so as Lauren spoke in subdued tones.
Lauren looked stunned when she reentered. “She was very understanding. Upset, but encouraging.”
“Whaddaya mean encouraging?” Lem tried to stand.
Mitch inched him down. He needn’t bear weight on the leg.
“I mean, she encouraged me to find a way to stay.”
Lem whooped. “Give me the dish!”
“She confessed that she’d always hoped her brother and me would get back together, which was her main reason for bringing me into business with her.”
Mitch didn’t like the jealous twinges hitting him with that news.
“She assured me she could find someone to take my place, but wanted me to promise to keep in touch with her.”
Lem scratched his head. “What about the contractors?”
“She’s certain she can handle them, with her brother’s help. He’s an attor
ney. She hadn’t wanted to bring him in out of sensitivity to me.”
Mitch raised his hands as though he was pausing the air. “Wait. He’s an attorney yet drives like an idiot?”
Lem gave Mitch a stern look, which made Lauren grin.
Mitch sat. “What else?”
“That’s it for now.” Her face lit. “But maybe we’re getting our way after all.”
The way her face gleamed destroyed his defenses. “So that means there’s a chance you’ll move to Illinois?”
Why was he so afraid to believe it? Hope for it?
“A big, big chance.” Her face beamed like the sun.
Wow. Did this ever change things.
His heart thumped against his chest.
Mitch’s phone rang. He eyed the caller’s number. Kate—who never called unless it was trauma center–related. “I need to take this. Excuse me.” Mitch stepped in Lem’s living room and called her back. “Hey, Kate. Everything okay?”
“Yes, but you should come to the center. Mara’s waking up. In fact, I need to go. See you in a few.” She hung up quickly.
Mitch observed Lauren through the doorway, then called Ian and said in low tones, “Mara’s waking. Should we tell Lauren?”
“Problem with that is we have court orders to contact detectives at the first sign of Mara regaining consciousness.”
“True.” Mitch’s mind whirled with what to do.
“Does she know that the family of the boy who died pressed charges?”
Mitch sighed. “Not to my knowledge. We were instructed by attorneys not to speak about the case until depositions.”
“Mitch, hate to say it, bro, but this could get ugly.”
“Very. Maybe it’s best we shield Lauren from the trauma of seeing Mara arrested upon waking?”
“I don’t know. Tough call.” Ian sounded contemplative.
“She’ll feel cheated out of seeing Mara wake.” Mitch struggled ethically and emotionally with the right thing to do. “Legally, I’m obligated to inform authorities.”
“I don’t think Lauren should be present when that goes down.” Wisdom and mercy drove Ian’s words. Ian was right. But that wouldn’t keep Lauren from unloading on Mitch.
