by Marta Perry
She’d argue, but her stomach was growling and her head still throbbed. “I just need a minute. Then I’ll fix myself something.”
The only answer was the sound of the wheelchair as Luke made his way toward the kitchen. Obviously he didn’t intend to listen to her.
A few minutes later she heard him coming back and opened her eyes, trying to look in control.
“Coffee and toast are ready, and the eggs are cooking. You’ll have to come to the kitchen, because I’m not sure how I’d get it in here unless I put it in a knapsack.”
He was trying to jolly her along, she supposed, but it was so unusual for him to joke about his disability that for a moment she thought she hadn’t heard right. She nodded, managing to smile.
“I think I can. Thanks for not telling me how stupid I am to come out without eating.” She took the hand he extended and got to her feet.
The floor seemed to tilt slightly, and she couldn’t help grabbing his shoulder. If she fell into the chair—
But his shoulder was like a rock. He put his arm around her, holding her against him until the room righted itself.
She drew back, breathless, and found she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” His voice deepened to a baritone rumble, and for a moment his grip tightened on her arm, as if he’d draw her closer.
Then he was turning away, a faint reddening along his cheekbones the only indication anything had happened.
“Let’s get in the kitchen before the eggs burn.”
Luke managed to transfer the eggs from stove to plate without incident. He set them down and looked across the kitchen table, studying Mary Kate’s face as she buttered a piece of toast. She looked better than she had a few minutes earlier, but the lines of tiredness were still there.
“More eggs?” The scrambled eggs looked a little dry, but he’d never prided himself on his cooking ability. The fact that he’d done it was amazing enough in itself.
“No, thanks. This is plenty.” She forked them into her mouth with every appearance of pleasure. “This was kind of you, but I could—”
“Don’t bother telling me you could have done it yourself. It’s not a sin to let someone else take care of you once in a while, you know.”
She glanced up at him, coloring a little. “I suppose not.”
Was she embarrassed because for the moment their roles were reversed? Or was she remembering that moment when she’d leaned against him and he’d put his arm around her? He wasn’t sure, and maybe it was best not to speculate about it too much.
So his attraction to Mary Kate was still there, ready to rekindle after all these years. That didn’t mean it made sense to act on it.
She finished the food in silence and then leaned back in the chair, cradling the coffee mug in her hands.
“You look better now.”
“I feel better. I’m sorry if I didn’t seem appreciative. I just don’t usually need to be taken care of.”
“Or maybe you don’t let people do it.”
In the essentials she hadn’t really changed since high school, he realized. Maybe people didn’t, not in the things that mattered. Mary Kate had always tried to take care of everyone.
Some emotion clouded the clear blue of her eyes. “I have to be strong. I’m all the children have now.”
“Mary Kate Flanagan Donnelly, you have more relatives than anyone I know, all of them eager to help you.”
She raked her fingers through her auburn curls. “It’s not that easy. I mean, of course they all want to help. But they have families and lives of their own. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You know, you just might be the most stubborn person I know. Wouldn’t you help them, if the situation were reversed?”
“Well, of course, but—”
“But, nothing. It’s only fair to give them a chance to help you. You’re trying to take Kenny’s place all by yourself when you don’t need to.”
Her smile flickered. “I’m not doing that good a job, I guess, or Michael wouldn’t have had to come to you for help with that car.”
“Does it really bother you that much?” He reached across the table to snag her hand, holding it warmly.
“I’m trying not to let it.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I know what you’re saying is true. It’s just not that easy to do. Being a parent can be a scary business even when there are two of you. When you’re alone, sometimes it’s downright terrifying.”
“All the more reason to rely on your family.”
She gave him a look that went straight to his heart. “You don’t.”
He dropped her hand. “That’s different.”
“Is it?” Her face was troubled. “I know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help caring. Whatever happened between you and your father in the past, it seems he wants to make peace with you now.”
“It’s too late for that.” Everything in him hardened at the memory of his mother’s grief and his own sense of betrayal. “He made his choice a long time ago.”
“Don’t say that.” She leaned toward him across the table, and the passion in her face and voice startled him. Moved him, in spite of himself. “It’s never too late until someone’s gone. Then you don’t have another chance to say all the things you should have said.”
His heart twisted for her pain, and he grabbed her hand again, holding it between both of his. “Don’t, Mary Kate. Kenny knew how much you loved him. Don’t reproach yourself for anything you said or didn’t say.”
“I hope—” She shook her head, and a single teardrop escaped her to drop on their clasped hands. “I hope that’s right. But that’s not the point. You still have time to forgive your father for what he did.”
“What if I don’t want to forgive him?” His grip tightened on her hand. “He doesn’t deserve—”
She reached across to put her fingers over his lips, stopping the rest of that sentence. For an instant his senses reeled at the intimacy of the gesture.
But he knew Mary Kate wasn’t seeing it that way. She was just intent on helping him. Taking care of him, the way she did everyone else who came within her orbit. Even when she was dealing with her own weakness, she could still reach out to him.
She took her hand away, looking a little startled at herself. “I’m sorry. If you want to tell me about it, I’d like to hear. It’s just been hitting me a lot lately—how little any of us deserve forgiveness, and how much we need it.”
For a long moment Luke didn’t respond. Mary Kate wanted her words back, but it was too late to recall them. Luke would think she was preaching at him, that she was a self-righteous prig, ready to tell other people what to do.
She wasn’t. She was just someone who’d fought that particular battle of the soul very recently, and remembered what it was like to be angry with everyone, including God, including Kenny, for what had happened to her family. She wanted, so much, to help Luke get rid of that debilitating emotion.
You promised to bring good out of even the bad things that happen, Father. If You mean for me to use my grief and anger to help Luke, You’ll have to give me the strength to do it, because I’m not sure I can on my own.
Something, some faint lightening in Luke’s expression, heartened her. “You don’t pull any punches, do you, M.K.?”
“Do you want me to?” Their hands were still clasped. She probably should pull away, but some instinct told her to hold on.
“No, I guess not. We’re friends.”
Friends. The word echoed in her mind. No matter how much she might tell herself that their relationship was that of therapist to patient, it wasn’t true. Their past affected their present, making it impossible to achieve professional detachment. Maybe that was why God had put her in a position to help him.
“As a friend,” she said carefully, “I hate to see you hanging on to a grudge against your father, no matter what he did.”
He shoved her hands away, half turning from her, and she felt as if he’
d pushed her, instead. “You don’t know what it was like. If you did, maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive.”
“Probably not, but—”
“But what?” The face he turned toward her was angry. “I’m a grown-up now? My mother is gone? It’s time to let bygones be bygones?”
The harsh words bruised her, but the emotion behind them told her he was hurting much more, holding on to his father’s betrayal like a burden he could never put down. Her heart chilled. Was that what lay in Michael’s future—a lifetime of feeling, no matter how irrationally, that his father had deserted him?
No, she wouldn’t believe that. Not for her little Michael, and not for Luke if she could do anything about it. But to help, she couldn’t hide behind the safety of focusing only on his feelings. She’d have to reveal her own. She’d have to say to him what she hadn’t said to anyone else.
“I was angry.” Just saying the words felt as if she stripped her soul bare, and she stared down at the worn tabletop, unable to look at him. “Don’t bother to tell me it doesn’t make sense, because I already know that. I couldn’t help it. I was angry at Kenny for dying. For leaving us.” Her voice thickened on the words. “And I was angry at God for letting it happen.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice softened a little. “I know you’re trying to help, but it’s not the same thing. Kenny didn’t have a choice about leaving you.”
“We’re just as alone. It’s just as hard to try and deal with, to raise my children without him. Do you think I don’t know how your mother felt? Believe me, I do.”
His hand clenched into a fist against the faded wood, and the knuckles stood out white. “He left her for another woman. He left me to go off and start a new family and he never looked back. It wasn’t just being alone or being angry at fate. He betrayed us. He threw us away. You can’t know how that felt.”
“Maybe not exactly, but—”
He turned away, spinning the wheelchair from the table so suddenly that it startled her. “Not at all.” He frowned at her, eyebrows dark and lowering. “Leave it alone, Mary Kate. You’re not going to convince me that my father deserves forgiveness.”
“It’s not about your father.” She wanted to reach out to him, but he seemed determined to push her away. “Don’t you see that it’s not him I’m concerned about? It’s you. You’re hanging on to all that resentment against him, and it’s hurting you far more than it’s hurting him.”
“I don’t let anything about him hurt me anymore. I’m done feeling anything for him.” But the bitterness that laced his voice denied the words. “He has exactly what he wants in life. He’s a big success—you know that. Well, fine. Let that success be enough for him.”
“Don’t, Luke.” She moved when he’d have turned from her, grasping his forearm, feeling warm skin and hard muscle against her palm. “Listen to yourself. I know what that kind of anger does to you. Maybe you’re stronger than I am, but I know I couldn’t live with it. I couldn’t move on until I’d figured out how to forgive.”
He glared at her, his face still dark with resentment against his father, against her for daring to trespass on his feelings. “Move on? Good advice, Mary Kate. Too bad you’re not taking it yourself.”
“I am.” She’d walk away from him, but she was held by the power of his emotion. “You don’t know how far I’ve come.”
“Maybe. But I don’t see you moving on. I see you shutting away. I see you so determined to take care of everything and everyone yourself that you won’t let anyone else know how much you need help.”
“That’s not true.” It wasn’t, was it? She’d been trying to help him deal with his feelings, but he’d turned everything against her.
“It is.” His tone was uncompromising. “You came in here this morning ready to collapse because you’re trying to do everything yourself. Don’t bother to tell me your mother wouldn’t have been happy to make those stupid cupcakes for Michael if he had to have homemade, because I won’t believe it. You’re so convinced you’re indispensable that you’re trying to make everyone else think the same. Well, you’re not.”
Stupid tears welled in her eyes, making her furious with Luke and with herself. She tried to blink them away. “Well, if that’s true, I certainly don’t have to worry about that with you. And as far as you’re concerned, I’m perfectly disposable.”
She turned her face away, knowing how inane that was. He’d touched a sore point, and he didn’t care in the least.
“Come on, Mary Kate.” He startled her by grabbing the table to pull himself to his feet. Leaning against it, he touched her cheek, turning her so that he could see her face. “You know that’s not true. I really couldn’t get along without you. But that doesn’t mean I want you wearing yourself out, any more than your kids or your family would if they realized.”
“Sorry.” She sniffed, reaching up to blot the tears.
Luke got there first, wiping the tears away, his big hand surprisingly gentle. His touch sent warmth shimmering across her skin, and her breath caught.
His fingers spread against her cheek. She found him looking at her with a kind of startled awareness, as if he’d just seen something he hadn’t recognized. But whether it was in himself or in her, she didn’t know.
He was near, too near. She closed her eyes, as if that would block him out, but it didn’t help. She still inhaled the male scent of him, felt the warmth that radiated from his skin, responded when his hand slid back into her hair, tilting her face up until his lips found hers.
Her breath was gone entirely. She couldn’t do anything but hold on to his arm, feel his lips on hers, sense a longing and tenderness that flooded through her and met an answering wave of feeling that responded in spite of her best intentions.
Finally he drew back just a little. His breath still touched her skin.
“We shouldn’t,” she managed to say.
“I know.” He traced her lips with his fingertip and then carefully took his hand away, straightening. “I know we shouldn’t, but the feelings are there. What are we going to do about that?”
Chapter Nine
Mary Kate still didn’t have an answer to that question when she drove Luke to his doctor’s appointment the following day. Ordinarily a health aide would do that, but since Luke refused to have one, she’d stepped in. Luckily, Luke seemed just as eager as she was to ignore the whole subject, carefully avoiding any personal conversation.
As for herself, well, she couldn’t keep from touching him and still do her job, but she could force her will to bring her unruly emotions in line. She couldn’t have a relationship with a patient. It was against every rule, as well as common sense, and she wouldn’t jeopardize her position.
Fortunately Luke seemed to feel, as she did, that what had happened was a mistake. It was crucial to regain their equilibrium.
She glanced across the front seat at Luke as she pulled onto Ryland Road, noting the set jaw and the tension revealed in his clenched hands. Maybe it was just as well that they’d gone back to Luke being annoyed with her again.
She nodded to the dashboard clock. “It looks as if we’ll be in plenty of time for your appointment.” At least the doctor’s office was on a quiet road, well away from the downtown traffic.
“An unnecessary appointment.” Luke’s growl said he still wasn’t reconciled to this.
“You couldn’t put it off forever.” Though he’d done his best to do just that. “The clinic received a rather tart e-mail from the army, asking why they hadn’t received a physician’s report yet.”
“I could have ignored it for another month before they got excited enough to do anything about it if you hadn’t been so officious.”
“That’s me,” she said cheerfully. “Officious to the end. I don’t see what the big deal is about going to the doctor. He’s going to be pleased with your progress.”
For a moment she thought he’d ignore her. Then he shook his head. “It’s not seeing the doctor I mind. It’s seeing othe
r people.”
It was past time he faced this issue. “Don’t you mean being seen?”
He glared at her, but then gave a short nod. “I guess.”
“I can understand your feelings. I think they might be a little exaggerated, though. Plenty of people use walkers and wheelchairs.”
She wanted to say that no one would stare, but she couldn’t guarantee that, could she? People could be unthinking. Still, Luke had to start getting out more. Maybe today’s outing would take some of the apprehension away.
She flicked on the turn signal, slowed and turned right into the concrete parking lot. Mulched beds against the building flamed with color from azalea bushes, softening the starkness of the low, redbrick structure. Several cars were parked in front. She pulled around the side, finding a space at the bottom of the ramp.
“It’s a pretty good hike up that ramp. Why don’t I get the wheelchair out?” She’d put it in the trunk over his objections.
“No.” He yanked at the door handle. “The walker is bad enough.”
She knew better than to argue the point. Maybe Luke’s stubborn streak was an advantage, if it pushed him to try harder to move forward, as long as he didn’t overextend and have a setback. She hurried around the car to position the walker by the door.
When she reached for Luke’s arm to help him, he shook her off. She held her breath while he managed the move from car seat to standing on his own. Was he rejecting her help because he wanted to do it on his own? Or because he felt it safer not to touch her? She’d never know.
She followed him up the ramp. Please, Father, give him strength. If he should fall—But he didn’t, although he was clenching his jaw by the time he reached the top.
Mary Kate scooted around him to hold the door open, hoping she didn’t look as relieved as she felt. Inside, a smooth, tiled hallway led to the waiting room. She walked beside him into the room, standing back to let him check himself in. He wouldn’t appreciate it if she tried to do it for him.
