Waco and he were oddities in close-knit Virginia Task Force One. The members of their urban search-and-rescue team largely came from the same region. Tom Robert Hancock, known to all as Waco, talked about his childhood in Texas incessantly, while Zach had said nothing of his.
“Yeah, I’ve got one. And there are, uh, complications here.”
“If you’re pissed at me because I talked to Doc—”
“I’m not pissed. You did what you had to do. And I made the decision to come back here. You didn’t. Doc didn’t. Taz didn’t.” Even if the latter two had pressed him.
“If you hadn’t been having those dreams…”
They’d worked on the cabin during a few days in late July, camping out. The first night hadn’t been too bad. The second night Zach had awakened with that sick feeling in his gut. Apparently he’d awakened Waco, too. Didn’t take much for Waco to put it together.
“I gotta go, Waco.”
“If you need anything, Zach…”
“I know. Thanks.”
He dropped the phone on the shirt he’d taken off an hour ago and leaned into the shovel.
Informal but businesslike, the Bliss House renovation committee members each reported on preparations for the opening. Max and Suz about which rooms would be ready, Annette on crafts that would be for sale, Suz about display spaces, Fran on the gardens, Steve on efforts to get another grant, Rob on the budget (“We could really use that grant,” he said to knowing chuckles) and Kay on plans for the opening. That last item took up the bulk of the meeting since the date loomed closer and closer.
After nearly two and a half hours, the meeting ended.
Fran was halfway to the door, when Steve called her name. “If you could wait a minute?”
“Of course.”
Rob slowed beside her as if he would stop, too, but Kay tugged on his arm.
The door closed behind them and Steve came around the table to where she stood. “I can’t quite bring myself to say thank you. It’s… But you did what needed to be done, Fran.”
He meant in giving Zach a place to stay, in keeping him close at hand to sort all this out.
“Yes, it needed to be done. And everything will work out, Steve. I know it will.”
Her certainty dipped a bit when she tracked Zach down to a diamond-shaped bed at the front corner of the house that linked the Grandmother’s Garden in the front with a rose garden along the side.
Not that he wasn’t doing good work. He was. She couldn’t ask for a better job of working the soil than he was doing. She just wished she could shake the uncomfortable idea that each time he forcefully jammed the shovel into the earth, he was thinking of some member of his family.
“How’s it going, Zach?”
“Fine,” he said with a scowl.
“I’ll go change into my work clothes, and help you—”
“No.” A flutter of excited voices came from the far end of the Grandmother’s Garden behind her, and Zach’s gaze shifted. “I don’t need your help. And you—”
He had dropped the shovel and taken off at a run before Fran realized he wasn’t going to finish his sentence.
She spun around to see what had caused his reaction. At the far end of the Grandmother’s Garden, Muriel Henderson lay crumpled, half on the grass and half in the garden border where she’d been planting pansies. Miriam Jenkins was squeaking her alarm, while two other women knelt beside Muriel, and three more—including Miss Trudi—scrambled toward the scene from where they had been planting.
Zach beat them all there.
When Fran reached the group huddled around Muriel, Zach had his head close to Muriel’s face, as if he were listening to something she said. But as he straightened she saw the older woman was unconscious.
“Did she fall?” he demanded. “Or did she pass out and somebody lowered her to the ground?” When no one answered fast enough for him, he added, “Miss Trudi?”
“I don’t know, Zach. Rosemary?” she asked, looking at one of the two women still kneeling beside Muriel.
“Couldn’t get to her fast enough to lower her, but she sort of crumpled more than fell.”
“Good. Whoever’s got a cell phone, call 9-1-1, then go meet them at the drive to guide them back here.”
“I’ll do it.” Rosemary clambered to her feet, pulling a phone from her sweater pocket as she headed for the back of the house.
Zach put his fingers on Muriel’s wrist, not fumbling for the right pulse point, as Fran always did whenever she’d done that.
She stirred slightly, her feet shifting. Zach gave a grunt that sounded like satisfaction.
“Is she—?” Miriam started.
Zach spoke over her. “I need sweaters, jackets, anything to cover her up.”
He accepted Fran’s sweater, folded it then supported Muriel’s head with one large hand as he slid the pillow under it with the other.
He spread the offered jacket, three sweaters and Miss Trudi’s tunic over Muriel. Another jacket he rolled up and slid under her knees.
Her eyes fluttered and she groaned, then started to sit up.
“Whoa there. Stay where you are, Muriel.” Zach backed the order with a firm hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“I…uh… What happened?”
“That’s what I was going to ask you.” He smiled at her.
“I felt a little light-headed, then…”
With that smile aimed at her she was probably feeling light-headed right now, too.
Fran could see Zach was watching the woman’s face closely.
“How about now? How are you feeling?”
“A little woozy.”
He nodded. “Well, just stay there for now, and that should be better. Muriel, I’m going to ask you a few questions. While I do, I want you to raise both your arms and hold them there. Understood? Okay, raise your arms. That’s good. No, hold that. Are you diabetic, Muriel?”
“No.”
“History of low blood pressure?”
“No.”
“Good. Okay, you can put your arms down. Has this ever happened to you before?”
“Uh…”
“Yes,” Miss Trudi said from the opposite side of Muriel. “She’s fainted a dozen times I know of these past twenty-five years.”
Zach looked up at Miss Trudi a moment, then to Muriel. “You need to have that checked out.”
“The doctor says it’s nothing. I just—”
“They’re here! They’re here!” called Rosemary, bustling toward them, with two paramedics toting their gear following.
Zach rose, going to meet them partway.
He spoke in a low voice, but Fran heard snatches. “…cool and clammy. Pale… Breathing and pulse good…leaning over to plant…didn’t immobilize because…syncope… No sign of TIA. No slurring of speech. Has a history of passing out.”
As the group reached Muriel, one of the paramedics looked from the woman on the ground to Zach. “You got our Muriel to a T. Hi, Muriel.”
“Oh. Hello, Bobby.”
“Okay, everybody, back up, let us do our job,” ordered the other paramedic, depositing the jackets and sweaters in Fran’s arms before replacing them with a regulation blanket.
By the time Fran matched the clothing with the rightful owners and calmed the Garden Club ladies, the paramedics had Muriel on a gurney they’d retrieved from the ambulance, and were preparing to wheel her out with Miss Trudi accompanying her.
Zach had disappeared.
Fran tracked him back to the diamond-shaped bed.
“You knew exactly what to do.”
“Basic first aid. Learned it in the army.”
“Zach—”
“Fran, I want to get this work done before the sun goes down. Do you mind?”
Did she mind getting lost, that’s what was implicit in that question. And she did mind. There was such a contrast between Zach’s gentle sureness in dealing with Muriel, and his savage attacking of the ground he dug now. How c
ould she not be curious what was behind each of those attitudes.
But how could she insist on getting answers when he was doing the work she’d asked him to do?
So, she’d put on her work clothes, and she’d occupy herself at one of the other seventeen thousand things she needed to get done.
Because maybe, just maybe she didn’t really want to know. Didn’t want to get any more drawn into this man’s life than she already was.
Sunday didn’t turn out at all the way Fran had expected.
When she’d told Zach there was no reason for him to go to Bliss House today, that she was going to be there only a few hours, that he had more than earned a day of rest, he’d growled at her that he’d be there working as long as she was.
Or longer, as it turned out.
Around three, she’d found him adding manure to the bed the Garden Club ladies would fill with donated chrysanthemums in a geometric design the Victorians loved, and said she was going home. This time she got a grunt, and he announced he was staying. And then she’d understood why he’d insisted on driving separate cars. He’d been planning this all along.
Fine. Maybe he’d work himself out of the monosyllabic foul mood he’d been in since yesterday.
She’d returned home to find Kay looking miserable as Rob packed.
“You don’t mind if Kay stays on, do you, Fran?” Rob had asked.
“Of course not, but—”
“Good.”
After she’d showered and changed, Steve, Annette and Nell had arrived, along with Max and Suz, to see the puppies, but it was going to be a quick view for some of them. Steve and Max had arranged to drive Rob to Chicago, leaving his car here for Kay to use. They would have dinner with Rob in the city then turn around and head back.
In half an hour the men had cleared out, Nell and her friend Laura Ellen were on the porch with the puppies, and the women congregated on the couch and easy chairs in the family-room area with soft drinks and popcorn.
“Was that my imagination, or did they practically stampede out of here?” Suz asked.
“A definite stampede,” Annette said. “At least on Steve’s part. He was afraid he might actually have to have a normal conversation with Zach.”
“No fears there,” Fran said. “Zach’s at the gardens, doing his best to work himself to death.”
“Gee, I wonder where he got that idea?” Annette said, making a face at Fran.
“Hey, I’m here resting now, aren’t I?”
“I’m still trying to get over the shock,” Suz teased.
“Speaking of shock,” Annette said, “Nell told me that Miss Trudi had invited Lana to have lunch with her and the girls yesterday while we were having our meeting.”
“You’re kidding—I thought Miss Trudi and Lana were archenemies,” Suz said.
“I know. After the way Lana tried to get Miss Trudi into a nursing home… But Miss Trudi seems to have decided there should be a peace treaty.”
“Lana will never go for that,” Suz said.
“Well, apparently she did,” Annette said. “And I was as stunned as the rest of you. Not only that, but Nell said Lana was okay. Which is the best thing I’ve ever heard her say about her grandmother other than that she employs a good housekeeper.”
They speculated for a few minutes about what Miss Trudi was up to, but since they had no more raw material to work with, the topic faded.
Fran saw Suz and Annette exchange a look that probably communicated a lot between the two old friends. They’d been college roommates who’d gone into business together before selling off their successful company less than a year ago.
“Kay, if I’m not prying, can I ask how Rob’s holding up?” Suz asked.
“It’s exhausting for him, but each day I see a little bit of the worry and tension being lifted from him. He’s going to be okay.” Kay gave a short sigh. “I wish he weren’t feeling quite so protective.”
“I thought you’d worked that out,” Fran said.
Kay sighed again. “I have a feeling we’ve just worked out the first, tough layer of that issue.”
Suz and Annette nodded.
“It’s like living with an onion,” Annette said. “They smell and they make you cry…”
“But if you cook them right they’re delicious,” Suz concluded.
Laughing with them, Fran leaned out of the easy chair, stretching to retrieve a runaway piece of popcorn on the rug. She had watched each of these women find love, and she was thrilled for them. Sometimes, though, she felt a pang.
And sometimes the pangs felt as if they might turn lethal.
Above her the laughter stopped and there was a stirring as if the other three women were straining to see something.
“What in the world happened to you?” Kay sounded torn between alarm and laughter.
Fran looked up from her awkward position precariously near falling on her head. Zach, standing just inside the door, looked as if he’d been sprayed by a mud hose. His eyes were on her.
“Call it a rototiller backfire.”
She straightened. “Rototiller?”
“Don’t worry. Your plants are safe. Used it on the kitchen garden.”
“Oh, Zach, you didn’t have to do that. With all the plants coming in this week…”
“A little more work isn’t going to kill me.” He looked down at his clothes. “I’ll clean up whatever I track through the house.”
He strode off, and solid footfalls on the stairs could be heard.
And then the other three women looked at her—as if she could explain the man to them.
Now there was a joke—the idea that Fran Dalton had a clue to any man.
Nell’s before-school visit Monday morning didn’t catch Zach off guard the way Friday’s had. Not only was he braced when he heard Chester’s excited yip, he was ready with a cup of coffee to take to the porch.
He poured a second mug, wrapped Fran’s fingers around it and tipped his head toward the door, inviting her to move ahead of him. They both knew Steve and Annette didn’t want him seeing Nell alone. She sighed, but slid off the stool.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
Nell said hello to Fran, who dropped into a chair next to the whelping box. The little girl gave Zach a quick, neutral look and returned her attention to the puppies.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
She didn’t look away from the puppies and it took Zach a moment to realize she was talking to him.
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you leave?”
Damn. He wasn’t as prepared for this visit as he’d thought.
“That’s complicated. What it boils down to is that what I needed to finish my growing up wasn’t in Tobias. I had to go somewhere else to find it.”
“Daddy said he wanted me as his daughter even before I was born because I was part of his brother and he loves his brother, but his brother went away.”
Zach felt like a pile of rubble from a cave-in had landed on his chest. Fran cut a look at him.
“And he said he wanted me all for myself,” Nell continued, “the minute he saw me. Daddy was the first person to hold me. Did you know that? The doctor put me right in his arms.”
“I wish I’d known about you back then.”
“Why? I don’t do anything exciting. Not like you.” She didn’t give the words any spin, didn’t make them sarcastic, pointed, self-deprecating like an adult would have.
“Exciting, huh. What’d you hear that was so exciting?”
“You were a—” she tucked her bottom lip under her front teeth for a moment of concentration “—swashbuckler.”
“A swashbuckler?”
“Like a pirate,” she clarified for him.
He shook his head in bemusement. “Never been a pirate. Your—Steve always liked water more than me, anyhow.”
She studied him, those eyes unnerving. “Annette told me Daddy was a champion swimmer. And she showed me pictures of him with lots of trophies.”
“What about you?”
He shook his head again. “No titles, no records. I wasn’t in sports in high school.”
Those eyes narrowed in a frown. “What about the dog?”
“Dog?” He looked at Chester.
“When you were a kid like me. You took that dog in Grandmother’s house and it had muddy paws and went all over.”
“Oh. Yeah, that I did.”
Her face brightened.
He’d been redeemed, and he felt ridiculously glad.
“I found this stray digging in the big round flower bed out in the center of the front drive,” he told her. “It had been raining like a—uh, a lot, and he had about half the garden on his paws. I was going to take him straight through to the kitchen, but he got away from me. And then I started laughing…”
Nell smiled. “And he went all over the downstairs, even the music room.”
“I don’t remember that, but—”
“Fran said.”
“Then that must be what happened.”
“And Grandmother was furious at you.”
“That’s true.”
“Was that the first time Grandmother said you’re a no-good black sheep?”
Another cave-in.
Standing at the front door of Corbett House, facing those intense blue eyes glaring at him…. You’re my no-good black-sheep father.
“No, that wasn’t the first time.”
She nodded. “That’s what Fran said. Fran said you were always in trouble with Grandmother.”
“Uh, Nell, you better get going to school now,” Fran reminded her.
Wasn’t it interesting that Fran had remembered that episode with the dog from his childhood? Could it be that Honest Fran Dalton hadn’t been entirely honest about not having a crush on him when they were kids?
But so what? A crush when they were kids—that meant nothing.
“I watched your face when Nell was asking me questions,” Zach said abruptly from the passenger seat of her car as they neared Bliss House to start the day’s work.
Fran wondered where this might be going. “Oh?”
“Yeah, and I could tell you had questions you wanted to ask, too. Go ahead and spit them out.”
Baby Blues and Wedding Bells Page 10
