“Barbara, come meet my wife.” Sam directs to the gorgeous red head in slim fitting pink scrubs. God, I hope they all don't look like her. My husband could very well be the McSteamy in this version of Grey's Anatomy. Barbara plasters a brilliant white smile on her face as she shakes my hand a bit too firmly for my tender skull. Sam notices and intercedes quickly, planting himself back at my side. Something tells me I should visit him at work more, stake my claim on this man before they try and mistake his kindness for flirtation. Her lids lower seductively as she awaits further instruction.
“So Hendrix, you signing off yet or should we order in.”
“Take her home, wouldn't want to inflict this hospital's dinner on anyone that wasn't dying already.” They all share a laugh.
When Sam and I finally get home, he runs me a bath and tends to my every need for the next day. Although I can visibly see how much he is itching to get to his lab he doesn’t mention a word about it. By ten-thirty the next morning, I offer him up my arm just to get him on his way already. He smiles like he just unwrapped a toy on Christmas. “Are you sure you're up to this? You don't have to.”
“Sam, I'm fine. Trust me.” He returns a moment later with his black leather bag full of medical supplies. He takes a few different vials out and lines them up on the table. He pushes the sleeve of my shirt up past my elbow and ties on a rubber tourniquet. I can't help but watch the serene look on his face as if he's done this a thousand times. He rubs a spot in the crook of my arm with alcohol and finds the vein on the first try. In less than a minute he has what he needs he lets the rubber tie go and kisses me on the lips. “Thank you for this. You are my saving grace Bren.”
“You're welcome I hope it helps.”
He pours me a cup of coffee before heading out the door. My head feels almost normal and I know Elijah must have healed me in my sleep last night. I wonder where he was when I got hurt. Maybe he had his hands full fighting the demon. I shrug it off and go about my day off as usual.
It's late that night before Sam comes through the door. I must have fallen asleep during the news because now there's a Sham-o-Wam infomercial blaring. Sam clicks the television off and pulls me to my feet in a tight hug. He spins me around like a child and kisses me brazenly on the lips before setting me back down.
“Whoa what are we celebrating?”
“Nothing but the greatest discovery of mankind and it's running through these veins.” He holds my arms out delicately and runs his cool fingers down the length of my arm sending chills all over my body. I study him trying to figure out what he means.
“I've done it. I've found the cure. I mean I haven't tested it on but one kind, lymphoma, but I'm sure it's working. Prelims are already looking favorable.”
“So you're saying my blood, cured one of your guinea pigs of lymphoma?”
“We'll know for sure in the morning, and by the end of the week we could have a prototype made up to start trials of every kind of cancer. You should see this stuff in action babe. It's a miracle.”
I wrap my arms around his neck. It's all happing. It's all real. Sam's destiny is coming to fruition. It means mine is too. I swallow hard trying to wrap my brain around the impossible reality that our lives have become.
Chapter 11 ~ Barren ~
Three years later
Sam's bags sit by the front door of our home. The nine thousand square foot Texas Governor’s mansion is one of the oldest historical homes in the state. We only get to live in a portion of it however. Frankly, it creeps me out, especially when I’m alone. I’m pretty sure it’s haunted, but it’s just a gut feeling. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. I’m about to be alone here for a very long time.
At thirty-one, I am the youngest elected governor in history, beating out Clinton by one year. Of course, the media had a field day with this small fact. I have already prepared myself to be the youngest president as well.
"I don't understand why you’re choosing now of all times to go to a third world country?"
"We've been over this. These people are dying of a cancer that is completely curable with an inexpensive dose of the drug."
"So ship them a case or five and be the hero, but don't leave me in this large probably haunted mansion alone for six months."
"Um, actually it could be a bit longer. Blue Vial is shipping us the latest body scanner, and we have to have a building to operate it out of. Besides, this governor gig was your big dream, I can't sit around and cut ribbons while people are dying, Brennen."
"You know that's not why I want you to stay," I say finally on his heels. He turns and pulls me into an embrace.
"I know, but babe we've been trying for a baby since we got married. It’s been five years. Let's just take a break. I've heard that's when it happens anyway. You are still young, and you just got elected. Concentrate on that for the duration of my trip. I've also been giving more thought about adopting, and we can talk about it more while I'm away. I'll call you when my plane touches down. Okay?"
The car pulls around to the front of the house, and the driver opens the rear passenger door. We walk over to the car together. Sam pauses in the open door looking upset to leave while we’re on shaky ground.
"I'll miss you,” I say forcing a ghost of a smile to appear. I give one more silent plea into his eyes. I just don’t want him to leave. He recognizes the desperation in my eyes but he chooses to ignore it. It hurts me right down to the core that he would leave me like this, brush off our problems like they can wait. I know I’m being selfish wanting to keep him here all to myself. He has lives to save, I reason in my mind. I rein in my emotions and steel myself.
"I love you, and I'll miss you too." Sam sears my lips with a kiss that has the ability to tide me over for days. The passion has never left our marriage. We have our disagreements like any other couple, but we always make up before bed. As the door closes behind him, the immense house swallows me up with its emptiness. Twenty five bedrooms, I think looking around the place. The place comes with a housekeeper and a chef, as well as a security detail that live in the guest house.
It reminds me of Elijah's home, although he has a Downtown Abby-sized staff. I only get to live in a small portion of the house though. The rest is like a museum. Antiques from the eighteen hundreds fill every room worth their historical weight in gold. I pad into the dark kitchen and open a bottle of wine. I pour myself a glass, but as soon as I press it to my lips, I set the glass down and sigh.
I walk upstairs to my bathroom and take another pregnancy test out of the drawer. We've bought them in bulk for years. I scrub off my make up while I wait, having nowhere else to go for the day.
Another single blue line as always. It thuds as it hits the bottom of the copper waste basket. I make my way back to the crisp glass of wine calling my name in the kitchen. It's the first glass I've had since our honeymoon.
We've been seeing a fertility specialist for a couple of years now. We even tried in vitro fertilization, but nothing worked. All of the doctors are baffled by it. I don't understand it. The visions the oracle showed me were of me as a mother. Maybe they're adopted children, after all. The little boy had dark hair, and Sam and I both have blonde.
I turn the music on and stretch out on the sofa.
"I miss talking to you Elijah. I miss our late night conversations, nothing but you and I and a glass of red wine –okay, several glasses of red wine. We'd talk for hours. I wonder what you're doing right this moment. I wonder if you know how much you still mean to me." My true feelings spill out of me as the bottle gets lighter and lighter.
Before long, I've fallen asleep on the sofa. The next morning, I awake in my own bed with the covers over me. Two aspirin sit on the side table with a glass of water. "Thank you," I mouth knowing Elijah was responsible. I stretch under the heavy blanket. I had a dream about him last night, and I can still remember the way his lips seared the skin on my neck.
I glance at my phone and don't see a missed call from Sam. He was supposed to ca
ll me when he landed. I try his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Worry begins to trickle in, and I wonder if something bad has happened to him. I click on the television to see if there's anything on the news, but it's just the same old dreary broadcast.
The world has crept into a hostile place to live, and now the full fruition of my destiny is coming to pass. My election to office was a landslide, so now the real work begins. I'm hoping to implement the latest bill into a law this Monday which would be my first act as the new Governor. Our state will be the first to outlaw non-hybrid vehicles. People will have one year to comply. Businesses who comply within the next thirty days will receive incentives that are irresistible. If it weren't for my gift of influence, taking trucks away from Texans would've been catastrophic to my permanently attached head.
My job is all too easy with the powers I've sharpened over the years, powers shaped into fine honed blades of coercion.
"Mrs. Montgomery, you have a phone call," My housekeeper, Jeanie McAlister, calls outside my bedroom door.
"Thank you, Jeanie." I pad out of bed and hit the button on the land line. Barely eight a.m. on a Sunday, let the work begin. My secretary wants to discuss today's changes in the schedule. The charity gala for M.A.D.D, Mothers Against Drunk Drivers, has been postponed freeing my evening up. I was going to be their key note. Although ever since my ad campaign ran, a commercial warning people not to drink and drive, I've heard there's been a drastic drop in the numbers. I only remember this because it was like a ninety-five percent reduction since the ad first appeared.
I'll never get used to being the root of so much change. Just like, I'll never get used to the fact my husband has already cured several types of cancer, including breast cancer. Which reminds me to try his cell again. I made him get one of those fancy SAT phones to take with him. Knowing Sam, the airport probably lost his bag. Even so, he should know I'd be worried sick.
Jeanie informed me when I first moved into the house that Sundays were her day to make a special breakfast for the Governor. The scent of bacon wafts up from the kitchen and makes my mouth water. Having a personal chef is nice, unnecessary, but nice. I take a shower and get ready for the day.
I find the small kitchen table set for one. I invite Jeanie to join me, but she politely refuses telling me she's already eaten and has to dust a mountain of furniture. That I believe. This old house has a collection of antique pieces like I've never seen.
I sit feeling utterly alone in the world and stare out of the window. I nibble on a piece of bacon and dive into the pumpkin muffin.
I hate having down time. I wash the plate and cup I used for breakfast. Jeanie has all the laundry done. I have nothing to do. The doorbell rings, and a small twinge of happiness passes through me at the thought of a visitor. Then I remember I have secret service standing outside. So if it's not them ringing the doorbell, then who could it be?
"Elena!" I pull her into a hug that may just destroy her spine.
"Gee, Brennen, you must be lonely to be this happy to see me," she laughs out.
"I know. I've actually missed your company. What brings you by?" I shut the door behind her. "And how did you get past Stephen and Hank?”
"Oh, I took over as their supervisor. I have a badge." She holds up the forgery as proof her people have very high connections.
"Really? You're going to be around more?"
"Yes, rumor has it Sam's fled the country, and you're all alone. Now we can work on keeping the initiative on course since you'll have more downtime."
"Oh thank you. I hate having free time. I almost resorted to watching sitcoms."
"Well, looks like I got here just in the nick of time to host the intervention.”
I laugh and invite her to join me on the world class back porch. The green lawn stretches out for ages dotted with century old live oak trees, landscaped beautifully to almost perfection. I pour us a glass of iced tea as we sit at a small wrought iron table.
Elena spends the day filling my ear with everything that I've missed since the last time I saw the group. Jesson has made the Elite team again as well as Elena. Inara and Will got married, and I wish I could have been there. Nehemiah is still a lowly greeter for the pearly gates. My mother is training a new Oracle reader, so she can get back to heaven one day and to my father. She mentions everyone except for one.
Later we move to the rockers out back with a bottle of wine and relive old memories. "Remember the time I had Hell Hounds sicced on me? That was crazy."
"Yes I'll never forget how horrible you looked that night. You were caked with mud, soaking wet, bloody, but Elijah still looked at you like..."
She trails off when she sees my grim expression. "I'm sorry," she says softly and refills my glass to make up for the mentioning of his name.
“It's okay. It's hard to talk about the past without mentioning Elijah. He was always there. Heck he's still here. I'm sure he's been filling your ear full this whole time."
Her gaze looks filtered as she gazes at a spot just past my shoulder. She returns her eyes to me a moment later, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, I'd better let you get some rest. Your first official day starts tomorrow."
"Yeah," I shrug sheepishly.
For the second night in a row, I'm slipping into my sheets drunk off wine. However good the wine is, I'm sure I’m going to hate going into work tomorrow hung over. My body is still getting used to sleeping in a foreign bed, but these sheets feel like pure silk to my freshly waxed legs.
My cell rings just as my eyes drift shut. I don't open them but answer the call, "Hello?"
"Hey baby, I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. I've been swamped for the last forty-eight hours. I haven’t even slept. The nurses finally made me go back to the hotel."
"Sounds like you. So how is it over there?"
"Mm, you sound like you're in bed already and feeling pretty good."
"I am feeling good, but I miss you. I wish you were here in this bed with me."
"Me too. But this place needs us here desperately."
I stretch out and let him tell me all about it. I can tell he needs to talk to wind down from the chaos. This part, I'm used to. When Sam was doing his residency at St. Luke’s hospital, he would come off his eighteen hour shifts and still be so wired from the adrenaline that we'd lie in bed and talk for an hour before he'd finally drift off.
We say our goodnights, and now that I know he’s safe and sound as much as he can be in a third world country, I can rest peacefully. This room makes relaxation easy with its deep blue walls, just shy of navy blue. They remind me of Elijah's eyes.
I dream of him again tonight. We are on the beach cuddling by the fire, his beach, the one that looks like his own strip of Bora Bora. We talk as if life has never driven a wedge between us. He only touches me where clothing covers my skin. His arm is over my shoulder or sometimes he moves it to my jean covered knee. But the second he brushes his fingers across my cheek, I awake and feel as if he touched me for real. But he is nowhere to be found.
I get ready for work and chose a nude suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, adding a chunky bold necklace to give the boring outfit some color. There's a car waiting in my drive way to take me to the office, Elena opens the door for me and says a code word into a gadget on her wrist. She slides in next to me from the other side of the car.
"How are you feeling?" she asks entirely too chipper and alert for consuming as much wine as we managed to last night.
"Like someone removed my head and replaced it with a bowling ball."
"Well, you are human...Mostly."
The office is nicely appointed, and I take the morning to get to know the staff better with a long meeting. Before arriving, I arranged for a few breakfast goodies out of my personal pocket to win them over, even though my ability would do that for me. The meeting goes off without a hitch, and everyone is on board. No surprise there.
Elena tasks me with directives for the rest of the day, cramming as much
business in as if she may not be here tomorrow. They are wasting no time at all changing our little part of the world for the better. I just pray all this change doesn't backfire. What is the rest of the country going to think of Texas going to such far extremes?
Once the hybrid bill has left to be voted into effect, she has a stack of twenty new proposals on my desk by the end of the day for me to work my charm on. Some of this stuff is really off the wall. Not to say I don't like it, but I can see where some people would simply hate the idea. Take for instance the college plan. The state and universities team up to provide a low cost education. In turn, you’re contracted to work for five years, and your loan disappears at the end of your contract. Sam's school cost him around a hundred grand with interest piled on to boot. Working five years or more just to pay off that debt alone is a no brainer, so the math works in favor of the student. It's a much better alternative than joining the military just to get your education funded, especially now with the fate of the world hanging on by a thread. We're on the verge of war. I see now why their timing was impeccable. If I had taken a year to travel with Emily, it would have had a catastrophic outcome.
The next few weeks fly by. Having Elena by my side, walking me through every step, has really helped make settling in easier. She prefers to spend her nights in Amorous with Jesson as much as possible. Sam calls every few days. Every time I hear his voice, it makes me miss him ten times more. The strangest thing is when I miss Sam terribly, I end up dreaming about Elijah.
Tonight is no different. After drinking a couple of glasses of wine, I drift off under a blissful cloud of bubbles while soaking in the tub. The lights are dimmed low, and the candlelight flickers in soft reflections off the mirrors. Norah Jones is lulling me under with her smooth voice. Elijah finds me in the tub, rousing me from the nap as he slips in with me. The bubbles hiss in protest as they conform around his body. He rubs my feet, and I think I may just fall back to sleep. His hands abandon my toes and wander under the water exploring long forgotten territories. He reacquaints himself with my body, and I lap up every touch.
My Soul Laid Bare: Book 4 (The Soul Keeper Series) Page 14
