2. Come Be My Love

by Annette Broadrick

  When she tried to find out how badly Greg was hurt, she got only guarded replies.

  Someone finally asked if she wanted anyone notified and she remembered Tim. Frantically she searched through her purse until she found his number.

  She lost track of time. The doctor must have given her a sedative, because she woke up at one point and found herself lying in a quiet, shadowy room. She sat up, staring around wildly. "Greg? Where is Greg? Greg!"

  A darker shadow rose from a chair beside her bed. "Try to stay calm, Mouse. I'm here."

  "Tim? Oh, thank God you're here! Where is Greg? How is he? What is going on?"

  "They've had Greg in surgery for several hours, love. You're going to have to be brave and hang in there."

  "Oh, my God! He's going to die, isn't he? And it will all be my fault!"

  Tim sat down on the bed beside her and held her close. "Your fault! What are you talking about?"

  "I should never have married him. I should have known better. Don't you see? People around me die. I can't love anybody. Why didn't I remember that?"

  "Brandi, get hold of yourself. You're not thinking rationally. You are not to blame for what happened today, do you hear me?" He stroked her hair. "lt never occurred to anyone to search the man. So he walked right into the courtroom carrying a pistol."

  "What did they do to him?"

  "What they should have done before now—put him behind bars and ordered psychiatric testing. He's mad."

  "That's what Greg thought, too. But he was always able to control himself around most people."

  "Until now."

  "But why did he shoot Greg?"

  "Who knows? I personally think he was aiming for his wife. He was shouting at her, from what I can gather from the eyewitness accounts. I think Greg just happened to get in the way."

  "How bad is he, Tim? Please tell me."

  "I would, Mouse, if I could. I don't know anything except they've been in surgery for several hours."

  "When did you get here?"

  "A couple of hours ago. I chartered a jet as soon as I got the call."

  She glanced around. "How long have I been in here?"

  "I'm not sure. You were sound asleep when I arrived. The doctor admitted to giving you a fairly strong sedative. He said you were taking the shooting hard."

  "Hard? Is that what I was doing? They wouldn't let me see him, they wouldn't tell me anything about him, I couldn't find out anything."

  "I know. Mouse, I know. But I'm here now. I won't let them give you a bad time."

  She felt herself relaxing against him. Thank God for Tim. What would she do without him?

  They sat there quietly for a long time. Eventually Brandi stirred and said, "We've only been married a few days." She looked up at him. "Greg tried to let you know, Tim, but he couldn't reach you." She rested her head against him once again. "Neither of us wanted to wait."

  Tim glanced down at her as she continued to lean against his chest. "And here I thought I was going to be part of the ceremony. Now I won't even get to be the maid of honor or the flower girl. I'm crushed."

  "We'll do it again if you want. I'd be willing to do anything, if only he was going to be all right."

  "Then do me a favor, will you?"

  "What?"

  "Stop blaming yourself because you lost your dad so young. He had a bad heart. Mouse. He knew that and he pushed himself anyway.''

  "But Mother always said he worked too hard to provide for us and that's what killed him."

  "Brandi, your dad knew what he was doing and the chances he was taking. It was his choice. He did what he thought was best. Whether you or I agree with him is beside the point. Neither you nor your mother had anything to do with the choice he made. He loved you very much, and I know he would have hated to know that you have insisted on blaming yourself for his death all these years."

  "I loved him so much, Tim." She began to cry.

  "I know you did. It's all right to love him. It's even all right to miss him. But it isn't all right to limit your life because of something that happened in the past.

  You couldn't change it then. You can't change it now."

  "And if I lose Greg, too?"

  "You're brave enough and have courage enough to accept that loss without taking the blame for it, as well. Don't try to shoulder the problems of the world, Brandi. You can love Greg without feeling responsible for him. What happened today was a freakish, totally unpredictable accident. We can't change it. We can only deal with our reaction to what has happened."

  Tim was quiet for several minutes. "Greg has a real fighting spirit, Mouse. If there's any way he can, I know he'll pull through. He has so much to live for. I could see the change in him after he met you. You knocked him right off his feet, kid. He never knew what hit him. And I think you're the best thing that could ever have happened to him."

  "I'm scared, Tim."

  "So am I, Mouse. So am I. We've just got to leave it in God's hands now, and trust in the belief that He knows what He's doing."

  There was a tap on the door, and then it opened to reveal one of the nurses.

  "Mrs. Duncan?"

  "Yes."

  "Dr. Graham ordered a dinner tray for you. May I bring it in?"

  Tim stood and answered for her. "That sounds like a great idea."

  Brandi shook her head. "Oh, I don't think so. The thought of food right now—"

  "Is just what you need. We can't have you in one bed and Greg laid up in another, now can we?"

  Before the nurse knew what had hit her, Tim had charmed an additional tray from her. He made their meal lighthearted, keeping Brandi's mind on a multitude of subjects until she had eaten everything that had been brought to her.

  Then he excused himself and left the room, promising to be back in a few minutes.

  Brandi acknowledged to herself that Tim had been right. She felt better now that she had finally eaten something. She got off the bed and searched for her shoes, then went into the adjoining bathroom.

  When she came back, Tim was waiting for her.

  "They have Greg in Recovery. There was extensive damage that needed repair, but they feel that they did what was necessary, and he held up very well during surgery."

  "Oh, thank God." Brandi burst into tears of relief. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

  "I hope so. They said that he'll be in Recovery until morning, and they won't allow any visitors until sometime tomorrow. So how about you and me breaking out of this joint, kid, and going somewhere to get some sleep?"

  Brandi was torn. She wanted to be close just in case Greg should awaken and ask for her, but Tim was no doubt right. They wouldn't allow her to see him for several hours. Despite the sleep she had gotten earlier, she knew that she needed rest. Once Greg was conscious, she wanted to spend every minute with him. She needed to prepare herself for that.

  "I've got a key to the condominium. That's where we've been staying this week. We can go there." She smiled at Tim. "You'll like his place. He has a beautiful view of the river."

  Tim took her arm and guided her out into the hallway. "About all I'm going to do is sleep for the next several hours, Mouse. I don't know what it is about you, but whenever I'm around you I lose sleep."

  She glanced up at him and smiled. "You know, Greg was making the very same complaint this morning, over breakfast."

  Tim began to laugh at the color that rose in her cheeks as she spoke. "Oh, really?" He ruffled her hair. "No doubt that's been good for him."

  Her thoughts returned to the present situation, and her color faded. "He's taught me so much about loving a person." Her eyes filled with tears as they stepped into the elevator. "I can't lose him now. Not now, when I've finally found him."

  Tim squeezed her hand. "Greg's not going to let anything happen to him, not if he can help it. He'll make it. Just wait and see."

  ❧

  Greg wasn't sure where he was. He seemed to be surrounded by a swirling gray mist. He couldn't remember
why he was there. The mist seemed lighter in one direction, and he began to move toward the light.

  He felt strange. Something was different, but he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was. He felt lighter, somehow, as though his body were buoyant.

  Then the cloudy mist seemed to dissipate and he found himself standing in the strangest room he'd ever seen. The entire room—walls, floor and ceiling—appeared to be made up of Plexiglas. He looked down at his feet, and he could see right through the floor. The room appeared to be suspended in air. Everywhere he looked was the vast expanse of stars and the total blackness of space.

  Then he saw a large round table in the center of the room. As he continued to look, a group of people appeared around the table. They glowed as though they were individually illuminated. Greg stared, trying to see their faces, but the light they projected was too bright.

  "Where am I?" he asked faintly, "And who are you?"

  One of the figures beckoned to him and said, "Join us. It is time that you meet with the council. "

  "What council? What are you talking about?"

  "We are a part of your guidance group, Gregory Duncan. We have worked with you and have been with you since you were born."

  "I don't understand.''

  "Yes, we know. Your conscious mind is unaware of our existence. It is only at night—through your dreams—that we are able to communicate with you."

  "Is that what this is? A dream?"

  "If you wish to view it as such. We need to confer with you to see if you are prepared to get on with your mission in life."

  "My mission? I don't know what you mean."

  "You have a specific lesson that you chose to work on during your lifetime, Gregory Duncan, but you have lost sight of what you wished to learn. You have been busy working in your profession and neglecting other parts of your life."

  "I don't understand.''

  ''It is oftentimes easier to hide behind the duties and responsibilities of one's job rather than face the unpleasantness of growth."

  "What do you mean?"

  ''You have been generous with your time and your money, Gregory Duncan. It is time for you to learn to give of yourself. You talk of commitment, but you have not understood the meaning of the word. You must be willing to open up, to become vulnerable, to allow others access to your innermost feelings. You must learn to share those feelings. There is much to be done in this area."

  "I realize that. I never understood that before. Not until I met Brandi."

  "This is true. That is why we sent Brandi to you. It was time for each of you to get on with your lives, to join together and establish the family you both have secretly yearned for. It is time."

  "You mean meeting Brandi was no accident?"

  "There are never any accidents, Gregory Duncan, Not even this latest one, you see. You had already grown accustomed to the idea that Brandi would fit into your life-style and that you would continue living as before. We could not have this. We understand the way your mind works, you see. Once Brandi agreed to stay with you permanently, you were already forgetting the things you had decided in Colorado to change about your life-style. This was a reminder for you to think about these things and never to forget them."

  "What are you talking about? What has happened?"

  "Don't you remember?"

  "Remember what? What am I doing here?"

  ''You were shot, Gregory Duncan. You were shot while you were in the midst of a trial."

  "I was shot..."

  ❧

  Brandi heard the murmured words, the first coherent thing she'd heard from Greg since she'd been there. Quickly coming to her feet, she leaned over and said, "I know, darling. But you're going to be fine. The doctors all say you're recovering beautifully—"

  Her voice broke on the last words, and she hastily wiped away the film of moisture that clouded her sight.

  Brandi had lost track of time since Greg's shooting. She had stayed at the hospital with him as much as the doctor and nurses would allow, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Tim had gotten an emergency call that demanded his return to Denver, but he had promised to keep in as close touch as possible.

  "Brandi?" Greg's voice was so faint that she could scarcely hear him.

  "Yes, darling?"

  "Don't leave me."

  "I would never do that, believe me."

  "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  "I really need you in my life."

  Tears poured down her cheeks, but it didn't matter. Greg had still not opened his eyes. "I need you, too."

  Slowly his eyes opened. He seemed to have trouble focusing on her face. He blinked several times.

  "I was shot," he repeated in a wondering tone.

  ''Yes."

  "I had no idea they would go to such lengths to get my attention."

  "Who are they, darling? Your client's husband was the one who shot you."

  "Never mind," he murmured. "It doesn't matter." He gently stroked her hand, which lay beside his on the bed. "It worked," he said with a rueful smile. "It worked."

  ❧

  Two weeks later Brandi arrived at Greg's hospital room, as soon as he was allowed visitors, just as she had done each day since he'd been admitted. This time, however, he was not in bed. Instead, she found him sitting in the chair by the window.

  His color was so much better. He looked more like the man she had first met. She could barely speak past the lump in her throat at the sight of him.

  "Greetings, counselor," she managed to say. "You look like you're ready to practice law. All you need is a desk in front of you." She leaned over and gave him a loving, lingering kiss.

  When she drew away, he grinned and said, "It's a good thing I'm no longer hooked up to those machines that monitor my heartbeat. After a kiss like that the nurses would be racing in here to see what had created such a change in my pulse."

  Brandi sat down in a nearby chair and smiled at him. "Has the doctor mentioned when you might be able to leave?"

  "Not exactly. He suggested we see how I do for a couple of days of limited exercise. I can now walk up and down the hallway in addition to sitting here."

  Brandi shook her head. "I can't believe how differently you have reacted to your hospital stay than either Tim or I predicted."

  "What do you mean?"

  "We were taking bets on how long it would be before you had your secretary bringing you files and taking your dictation. Tim said he knew you'd be giving the doctor fits, demanding to be allowed to return to work."

  "And you said?"

  "I wouldn't take his bet. Yet here you sit without a file in sight. I'm truly amazed."

  "Well, to be honest, I have been doing some business this morning. My three partners came in at my request for a short meeting."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. I wanted to tell them all that I'm resigning from the firm."

  Brandi stared at him in astonishment. He sat there, looking relaxed and at ease, as though he hadn't just dropped a bombshell into the conversation.

  "I don't understand. Is there something about your health you haven't told me?"

  "Nope. The doctor assures me there should be no lingering aftereffects of my injury and surgery. I was really very lucky."

  "Then why would you resign?"

  "Well, an interesting thing happened to me while I was laid up here. I discovered that I wasn't indispensable. The world is perfectly capable of running along on its own without my help."

  He took her hand and cradled it between his. "When I first moved to Payton I fully intended to relinquish my practice here in St. Louis and enjoy the laid-back life-style of a small-town lawyer." He looked out the window for a moment, then returned his gaze to her. "I suppose I enjoyed being in demand, having clients insist that I handle their cases, and I allowed my work load to continue, even though I was building a practice in Payton, as well."

  Studying her hand as though searching for a message, he went on. "Tve had
time to ask myself, 'What is the point of all of this?' and I wasn't really sure of the answer. I have all the money I need, but somehow, in the making of it, I found it easy to always want more than I had, no matter what amount that was."

  Brandi knelt beside him, but she didn't say anything.

  "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I want some things in my life that money can't buy—the sound of a small child's delighted giggle, an opportunity to walk along a sandy beach with you and watch the sunset. I've had time to do a great deal of uninterrupted thinking during these past few weeks. I've been reflecting back on my childhood and teen years."

  Brandi could see the shadows in his eyes when he mentioned that time in his past, but she didn't interrupt him. She knew how painful that area of his life was, even though she had never discussed it with him. Perhaps it was time for him to face that pain.

  "I was thinking about what a vulnerable time in a person's life his early years are, when the need for healthy regard for yourself and your talents can make a real difference in how you turn out as an adult." His gaze met hers. "I've decided that I'd like to do something, maybe spend some time with young teenagers who might need someone to talk to once in a while, someone who remembers what it feels like to be that age. Someone who understands."

  "I think that sounds wonderful, Greg. I'm sure you'll find a way to get in touch with boys in that age group once you're spending all of your time in Pay-ton."

  "I hope so." He brushed his palm across her cheek. "I also want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to establish a family, a warm, loving family that will provide the strong foundation for any children we might someday have."

  Tears sprang to Brandi's eyes. ''I can think of nothing that would please me more.''

  "Then you want to have children?"

  "Very much, as long as they're yours."

  He smiled. "Almost losing my life gave me the opportunity to see how precious and largely unappreciated my life is. Each of us is given equal amounts of time to do with as we wish. I want to enjoy my time— with you, with my family, with others that I feel an affinity for." He smiled. ''Does all of this sound as though I've lost touch with my sanity?"