by Cheryl Wyatt
He knew she meant crying in front of him.
“Pretend like I’m not here.”
She laughed and it turned into a scoff. “Like that’s possible. Your presence fills every inch of the car.”
He smiled. “Is that good or bad?”
Kate turned sideways and studied him. “I’m not sure yet.”
She pulled out her iPod and pressed ear buds in, then reclined and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. “I wish I’d brought a pillow.”
He reached his arm behind her and produced one.
She lifted her head to stare at him. “Is there anything you don’t think of?” A twinkle lit her eyes up some. Good.
“Probably.”
That brought a smile. Kate leaned her head back and slept for the next three hours, right up until he pulled into a drive-through.
Kate sat up so swiftly, he rethought his assumption she’d been sleeping. “Can we go in? I need to stretch my legs.”
“Sure.” He pulled her Jeep around and parked. She shivered, so he grabbed his army jacket and draped it around her.
“This is strange,” she said once inside and sliding into a booth. “Wearing fatigues. Brings back memories.”
“I didn’t think of that causing you struggle. Sorry, Kate.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t really fit me.”
“Actually, it does.” He lounged lazily.
“I meant size-wise.”
“I meant you still look at home in military garb.”
“It’s always going to be part of me. But it’s not what I want my life to be anymore, Caleb.”
He grinned.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’ve graduated back from Landis to Caleb. Cool.”
She tossed a straw at him.
He caught her hand in his. “Really, I’m just glad you’re letting me be here for you. I realize nothing I say is going to take away your pain or make a difference about your grandpa. But I still feel the need to tell you it’s gonna be okay, Kate.”
She nodded. “To the contrary, Caleb, everything you’ve said to me lately has made a difference.”
Once back in the car, they arrived at the Chicago hospital within the hour. Kate grew antsy when they pulled into the parking lot. “I wish he’d wake up from the coma and be coherent long enough for me to talk to him.”
Caleb put the Jeep into Park, then reached over and grabbed her hand, heart pounding in terror at what he was about to do. To ask. What if God didn’t hear? “Dear God, please wake Kate’s granddad up enough for her to have peace he’ll be okay, be with You. I...I believe You can still turn this around, but if You don’t choose to heal him on Earth, please give Kate a chance to say goodbye. Protect her from regret.”
Kate squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
Kate’s phone bleeped a text. As soon as she read it, she went wide-eyed. “Oh! Caleb!” Her fingernails dug into his flesh as she grabbed his arm. “Hurry! Mom said he woke up for the first time in weeks!”
Caleb tugged her back. “Kate, wait. Not to dispel your faith but you know as a nurse they sometimes get better before—”
“I know, I know! I understand God may not be answering our prayer to heal him, Caleb. But he’s answering a prayer nonetheless if I get to talk to him to say goodbye. Let’s go!”
* * *
Grandpa looked pale and drawn against the white sheets. Her grandma was there, along with her parents. They were on opposite sides of the bed, but at least they were in the room together.
Kate approached the bed softly, her throat convulsing. She hugged her parents then rested her hand on her grandpa’s.
A blue eye appeared between tiny, slitted lids. His hand rose to brace against Kate’s face. “Katherine Marie. My word, look at you. Your hair got long. You don’t look like a boy anymore.”
“Grandpa, I thought you always liked my short-cropped hair. It was military style.”
“I like your hair any way you want to wear it, child. Do you understand? Just be you. If you are you, you’ll be beautiful all the time. And who’s this fellow. Your husband?”
“No, Grandpa. I didn’t get married.”
“I dreamed it then. Hey, fella, c’mere.”
Caleb moved cautiously to the bed. “Yes, sir?”
Dear Lord, don’t let Grandpa say it... Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. This was gonna be bad. She could feel the awkward moment coming on. Even the air held its breath.
Grandpa pulled Caleb in by the scruff of his neck. “Listen up, pup. That’s my girl. You don’t do her wrong.”
“I don’t plan on it, sir.”
“That’s good. You marry her right up and have me some great-grands. I might not meet ’em here, but I sure will be there in spirit. You take care of her. You got that?”
Caleb swallowed. Kate wanted to faint. Or run. Or stuff gauze in Grandpa’s mouth.
“I said you got that? You take care of her for me, you hear?”
To Kate’s utter astonishment, Caleb’s face broke into a smile. “I’m trying, sir. But she’s pretty stubborn.” Caleb turned and eyed her meaningfully and unapologetically. “Sometimes she won’t let me.” He turned back to her grandfather. “But I promise she’ll be taken care of.”
“By you. Got that?”
Caleb’s jaw clenched. He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Grandpa’s hands relaxed on Caleb’s shirt. Caleb tugged the blanket to Grandpa’s chin.
Grandpa’s eyes popped open. “What’re you doin’, boy? I’m not a weakling.”
Caleb chuckled and rested his hands on the rail. “No, sir. You’re not.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, sir, other than it’s interesting to see where she gets her stubborn nature from. Also that part of her that won’t let others help her. Or let true friends in.”
“True friends can’t bring my wife those great-grands that are gonna get her through the years without me. So get to it.”
Everyone gasped. Grandma stood. “Donald! Don’t say that!”
“Everybody knows I’m about to go, Diane. Let off, would ya? And turn those water works off. You need to let me leave here seeing you laughing and bossing me around, like always. Not like this.” His eyes grew sparkly then dulled. Peace befell his face and his body went still.
Kate rushed the bed. “Grandpa?”
His breathing deepened and tears streamed down Kate’s face as she met Caleb’s gaze. Grandpa had shifted into the type of breathing that preceded death. Sometimes Kate hated being a nurse and knowing this stuff. By Caleb’s expression, he knew it, too.
She closed her eyes and asked God to let the passing be peaceful.
Four days later, it was.
* * *
Kate and her parents huddled around the bed, softly sobbing. Caleb stood in the corner fighting tears. His phone buzzed with a new text. He stepped out in the hallway.
It was from Ian asking which room they were in. Caleb texted the room number, glad the Eagle Point crew had shown up. He’d been texting frequent updates.
Moments later, Bri rushed the room and Kate fell into her arms. Ian and Mitch came around Kate and her parents and they swayed in a hug. Caleb fought the stupid tears tightening his throat again. He really loved these guys. Eagle Point felt so much like home, but he couldn’t stay. Being a ranger was already the center of his life.
“Caleb,” Kate softly whispered and reached past Ian’s shoulder, motioning him over. He joined the hug circle. Lauren, Mitch’s wife, started singing a hymn, something about chariots, and Caleb’s eyes blurred with tears. It had been his mom’s favorite song and the one they’d played at her memorial service.
Caleb tightened his arms around Bri and Kate, still softly so
bbing. He peered at Kate’s dad who appeared raw and about to break as he watched his wife grieve.
Caleb might not know much about love, but he saw it in Kate’s dad’s agonized face when he watched his wife when she wasn’t looking. Caleb closed his eyes.
Thanks for answering one prayer. Kate got to say goodbye. I know You made her grandpa lucid those precious moments. I need another couple answered prayers. Please salvage Kate’s parents’ marriage and help Kate not want to strangle me when I tell her who her bandit really is.
No doubt, he needed to do it. And soon.
He hadn’t promised a dying man that a masked bandit would take care of Kate. He’d promised to take care of her himself.
And that meant telling her the truth.
Chapter Twelve
“Caleb, please! Not yet. Just a little longer. Wait to reveal yourself until after my wedding,” Bri pleaded. Caleb looked away from the begging expression that always broke down his resolve. Instead, he focused on the repairs he was making on the bunkhouse.
He shook his head. “It’s gone on long enough, Bri.”
“She is in a grief-induced depression. Please, one more time, bring back the bandit. The notes aren’t even helping now. She’s grown immune to them almost. I can’t get through to her.”
Caleb agreed with Bri about Kate, but depression was a normal part of grief. Short-term, anyway. It had only been a week, so there was no reason to be worried yet, was there? Still, he couldn’t help remembering Kate’s sad face and lifeless eyes when he’d moved her into her cabin right after her grandpa’s memorial service.
“Please, Caleb. I’ll take full responsibility.” Wanting to press her point, Bri started up the ladder after him to join him at the top. She got two steps in, then paused.
Caleb knew it was because she’d taken a tumble off a ladder last year and had broken her arm. “I’d prefer you not climb it.”
She laughed. “True. I don’t want to marry in a cast.”
That sparked a thought. Kate’s reaction to the bandit reveal was going to be unpredictable. She may be angrier with Bri than with Caleb for keeping the secret. Kate was Bri’s maid of honor.
He didn’t want Bri’s wedding ruined.
He’d miss being the bandit in some ways. He played the part that neither of them took all that seriously. So he felt okay about indulging in the kind of grand, romantic gestures he’d never be brave enough to do normally.
As the bandit, he was never tongue-tied or awkward. He knew the right thing to do and say and write to make Kate smile.
That Kate had shown her vulnerable side to the bandit made Caleb want to continue to give her that outlet until after Bri’s wedding. He realized the rehearsal dinner was two weeks away, which meant the time for him to leave was hurtling up fast.
Way too fast.
He sighed. “Fine. But soon thereafter, I’m telling her.”
Bri nodded. “Okay. I won’t ask you to delay again. I promise.”
He descended the ladder and got to work on the handicap ramp and railing on the bunkhouse, its last project. “One bunkhouse down. One to go. The second wrap-up won’t take long.” Thanks to help from the Refuge PJs, the cabins had been completed last week.
Bri hugged him. “Thank you. I never would have gotten these done without you. Families will be able to use them soon.”
“You’d have found a way.”
“Contractors are so expensive and there’s no one local.”
Caleb thought of Kate’s parents and grandma, sleeping scrunched up for days in hospital waiting-room chairs and washing up at bathroom sinks. They’d gotten hotel rooms, but they were too far from the hospital to be of use as anything more than a place to occasionally shower and change clothes. “I’m glad you had the idea to let the trauma center use these bunkhouses.”
“There’s Kate,” Bri said over Caleb’s shoulder.
“Probably here to help with bunkhouses,” Caleb said. “Even in the midst of her grief, she stays on top of her commitments.”
Bri nodded. “Emotionally, I worry about her, though.”
Caleb hated to see worry in Bri’s eyes and the empty echoes in Kate’s when she exited her Jeep. He was reminded of how distracted she’d seemed the past few nights at work. He was starting to grow concerned, too.
It wasn’t good for her to keep everything inside. It was taking a toll on her already, and it would only get worse.
Maybe Bri was right. If she would open up to the bandit, then bringing him back was worth a try. Caleb formulated a plan. “Hi, Landis,” Kate said as she climbed the ladder next to him and began helping him replace the second bunkhouse’s gutter.
He eyed her. “So, we’re back to Landis now? My name is Caleb. Remember?” Had she forgotten the closeness they’d shared in Chicago or at her grandpa’s memorial service?
She shrugged and kept working. Was she, too, growing aware of how soon he’d have to leave?
Maybe. Either way, she was throwing up walls. Big-time. Yes, some of it was probably because of her grandpa and her parents, but he sensed there was more to it than that.
Was he breaking her heart? Would leaving her break his, too?
“I’m sorry if my leaving adds to your pain,” he said once they were off ladders and finishing outdoor trim.
She shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”
He stared at her, debating that. He knew it wasn’t completely true, but a confession like that was something she’d only make to BB. How to get through to her as Caleb? He picked up his electric saw. “Here.”
She stared at it. “What?”
He shrugged. “Thought you might want to use it.”
A minuscule grin peeked through. “You’re trying to work your way back into my heart by way of power tools or what?”
Work his way back in?
Man, this was more complicated than he thought.
“Sure. If it works.”
Caleb grinned as Kate tugged the safety goggles off his face and put them on hers. She fired up his saw and went to work. He had a tough time looking away. She was independent and skilled, even in construction. Yet to compliment her would only play into her conviction that she had to be good at everything. Prodigy? Yes, but she hated being put on a pedestal with it.
“Kate, you mind keeping an eye on my tools while I’m gone?”
She faced him. “You could be gone for years, though.”
He shrugged. “I know how much you love power tools. Keep them if I don’t come back.”
Pain lashed across pretty eyes. “Please, don’t say that.”
He set down his hammer and put a hand to her back. “I’m sorry. That’s not how I meant it.”
She stilled. “Bri’d be devastated if you died.”
He watched her carefully. “Just Bri?”
She stared at the ground. Her jaw clenched.
If she wasn’t going to admit her feelings for him, he had nothing to work with. He put his hammer in the toolbox. He kept watching Kate, hoping for some kind of response.
Filled with regret for what could have been, he stepped away. A raw, numb sensation spread to his limbs as it hit him how hard it was going to be to leave her. Not just because of how bad it would hurt her. He’d be hurt, too.
Should he tell her? That would complicate matters, right? Caleb wished for an instant he could put on his costume and be the bandit for a while. Because as Caleb, he had no clue how to deal with this stuff.
After Kate shut the saw off, he looked around.
He’d miss Eagle Point. Man, would he.
“So I realized I never really thanked you, Landis.”
He gritted his teeth at her use of his last name. “Yeah?”
“You were really there for me in Chicago. Ev
en after...even after the way I behaved when we left here. I want you to know that I appreciate it.”
“I’m glad I could be there for you.” And he was. As hard as the situation had been, and as painful as it was to see Kate cry, he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere other than by her side.
And besides, he hadn’t done it alone. The Eagle Point crew had come up as soon as they could to offer their support, and Kate’s dad had stuck close the whole time, despite the divorce proceedings. Caleb had even had a chance to have a few talks with the general. He was a good man, completely focused on making sure his wife, daughter and mother-in-law were taken care of as the burial and memorial service were arranged.
“I think your dad still loves your mom,” Caleb blurted out.
She nodded. “I think you’re right. I’m so glad. But I can’t say I approve of how Mom is handling it. Dad kept working so hard to support Mom, but she was so closed off toward him.”
He nodded, hopeful she would see the parallels to herself.
“Mom was trying so hard not to break down that she completely shut him out. I have to wonder, how long has it been like that between them? How many problems did she keep to herself, not even letting him know that anything was wrong? If my parents opened up to each other about their issues, would they have received help before it became too late?”
Blam! Caleb smiled. Kate was rethinking her ideal that she had to look strong all the time.
She met his gaze. “Maybe someone needs to see me weak to know I’m approachable—to know they can share their problems with me, and ask me to share my problems with them. Like you did with me.”
He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
She braced his shoulders. “It was everything. I had no one to turn to but you, Caleb. At first I didn’t like it, you seeing me weak. But eventually I realized how much harder everything would have been had you not been there.”
“Hurting isn’t the same thing as weak, Kate. You can allow yourself to feel hurt and show it without worrying that I’ll think less of you for it. I hope in turn, you’ll be better about letting your other friends in. They hurt, too. Sometimes people need to know someone understands the frustration and fear they’re going through.”
