Standing Bear's Surrender

by Peggy Webb

  Oblivious, Dr. Eric Sloan kept on dancing.

  “Oh, my God, he’s going to get killed,” she said, but Jim didn’t hear.

  He was already racing across the street, dodging traffic. Brakes squealed. Drivers rolled down their windows and swore.

  They were both going to be killed. Sarah couldn’t bear to watch…and she couldn’t bear not to. Jim had made it across three lanes, but a city garbage truck was bearing down on him.

  Would the driver see the two people over the hood of his elevated truck? Even if he did, could he stop in time?

  Sarah covered her mouth with her hands to stop the scream. The driver didn’t see them. He never checked his speed.

  “Fred, go back!” Jim yelled. “Go back to the curb!”

  Her father smiled and waved and kept on dancing.

  Sarah died a thousand deaths. The two people she cared about most in the world were going to be killed. Or maimed for life.

  “No,” she whispered. “Not Jim. Please, God, not Jim. Not again.”

  He was walking because of one miracle. Was it too much to ask for two? Was it selfish to ask for more than your share?

  Sarah didn’t care. The garbage truck bore down on Jim, and she prayed as she never had in her life.

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jim running and running, his hitched gait glaringly obvious. Her father tap dancing and singing in the rain, blissfully unaware of danger, waving to his audience. Cars pulling over to the curb, brakes squealing. A crowd gathering across the street, some of them screaming. The garbage truck, barreling toward tragedy.

  It was only a few feet away from Jim and her dad. Jim made a flying tackle and the truck roared by. Sarah cried.

  “Jim! Dad!”

  What was happening? She couldn’t see. She didn’t know.

  Sarah dodged across the street. “Let me through. Oh, please let me through. That’s my father.”

  And the man I love. The words seared into her brain with absolute certainty. No matter what had happened, no matter what happened in the future, she loved Jim Standing Bear.

  Oh, God, where was he? Where was Jim?

  Traffic had come to a complete standstill. The garbage truck had stopped halfway down the block, and the driver was running back toward the crowd huddled around two fallen figures.

  “Jim!” Sarah screamed.

  And then, miraculously he was up, standing tall and proud, head and shoulders above the crowd.

  “Sarah, it’s okay. Your dad is okay.”

  He pushed his way through then wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and led her toward the spot where a middle-aged man was bending over her dad.

  “I thought you’d been killed,” she said.

  “We made it. It was nip and tuck for a while, but we both made it, Sarah.”

  At their approach, the crowd parted. Someone snapped pictures.

  “Sarah, this is Glen Arnold, an off-duty fireman,” he said, introducing her to the man who was examining her father.

  “He’s one very lucky man,” Glen said. “He’s going to be sore, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

  Dr. Eric Sloan snorted. “The humorous is definitely broken, the scapula is probably fractured, and the femur hurts like hell. Thank God, it’s not broken, otherwise I’d be out of a career.”

  Smiling he offered his hand. “I’m Fred Astaire, young man, an American institution in case you didn’t know, and I don’t know who that fellow is standing over there with Ginger, but he sure ruined my act.”

  Laughing and crying at the same time, Sarah bent over her father.

  “That man is Lieutenant Commander Jim Standing Bear, and he saved your life.”

  “Next time, Commander, wait till the show is over.”

  Her father looked fragile lying in the hospital bed with his arm in a cast and bruises on his face. Fragile and so very needy.

  Now that it was all over, Sarah couldn’t seem to stop shaking. She set aside the coffee someone had brought her. The nurse? Julie? Jim?

  He was nowhere to be seen. He’d been with her every step of the way—during the all-night search, on the long ride in the ambulance, during the agonizing wait while doctors examined her father.

  He’d been the one to call Julie, the one to tell Julie and George about the disappearance and subsequent search. He’d taken care of a hundred small details while Sarah leaned against the wall and quietly fell apart.

  “Are you okay?” Julie wrapped her arm around Sarah.

  “Yes. I will be. Where’s Jim?”

  “He left a little while ago. He said to tell you he’d see you later.”

  “Did he see a doctor? Somebody should examine him. Where was I and why didn’t somebody come and get me?”

  “Whoa.” Julie studied her with lips pursed and eyes squinted. “Breathe.”

  “I didn’t even thank him,” she said, and then she started to cry.

  “Here.” Julie motioned for George to stand watch while she led her sister into the waiting room. “Go ahead and cry. Lord knows, you deserve it.”

  “I do not deserve it. Dad’s the one who’s been hurt. And Jim.” She pressed her hands over the sledgehammers that were pounding her temples. “When I think how close he came to getting hit, he and Dad both…”

  “They didn’t. That’s the main thing. What we have to do now is decide what we’re going to do.”

  “Going to do? About what?’

  “Dad. Now don’t get your dander up. You can’t keep on like this, Sarah.”

  “I’m going to fire Mrs. Grimes and hire another night sitter.”

  “Dad will only keep finding ways to run away. It’s part of the illness, Sarah.” Julie went to the vending machine and came back with two Almond Joys. She handed one to Sarah. “Don’t look so shocked. Do you think I don’t read, too?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I swear, Sarah. You’re so busy taking care of the world you forget that there are other people who know a thing or two. Namely me.”

  Julie chomped down on her candy. Mad. Sarah knew it was delayed reaction to stress. Still, she felt guilty.

  “I should have called you, Julie. I’m sorry.”

  “Yes. You should have. I should have been out in the dark, too, searching.”

  Sarah gave her a rueful smile. “I’ll call you next time.”

  “There’s not gong to be a next time. We’re going to find a good secure place for Dad.”

  The thought of her dad being bundled up and sent away broke Sarah’s heart. Something inside her clenched and bowed up for a fight.

  “I don’t want Dad in a nursing home, Julie. How many times do I have to say it? I can take care of him myself.”

  “What are you going to do, Sarah? Stay on guard twenty-four hours a day?”

  “Let’s not talk about it now, Julie. I’m tired.”

  Too tired to fight. She’d save that for later. She would march through hell before she’d see her dad cared for by strangers.

  Sarah had used Jim’s title when she’d told her father who he was. Without it, who was he? A broken-down has-been, that’s who. Even kindhearted, generous-spirited Sarah couldn’t see him as separate from his career as an aviator with the U.S. Navy.

  Jim poured himself another cup of coffee. He should have been exhausted from his night’s work, but he wasn’t. He should have been sleepy. Instead he was exhilarated, pumped-up, ready to go out and slay dragons.

  Or at least to tackle his future.

  It was time to make some decisions. Past time. Not only for himself, but for Sarah. She was the burr under his saddle, the carrot to his jackass.

  He wanted to see her again. Not as a friend. Not as neighbor. He wanted to see her the way he had in New Orleans. As a lover. As a man with a future, a man who had the right to come courting.

  He smiled at the old-fashioned terminology. Sarah deserved an old-fashioned courtship, one with pink roses to match her skin and chocolates filled with exot
ic fruit and nuts and moonlit nights filled with dancing.

  He wanted to dance with her once more, to kiss her, to hold her.

  Seeing her tonight and knowing he had no right to offer her more than friendship had been agony. The next time he saw her, he would offer her…

  He wasn’t sure what he’d offer. He wasn’t even sure what his feelings were. His only certainty was that his feelings for Sarah Sloan were intense, bordering on obsessive.

  He drank his third cup of coffee, then went upstairs to shave and change clothes. Sarah would have to wait. The first thing on his agenda was a visit to the Pensacola Naval Air Station.

  The roar of jets. The mushrooming contrails. The sleek aircraft. The spit and polish of dress blues.

  All of it overwhelmed Jim. He stood beside his car in the parking lot of the air base shaking so badly he didn’t think he could stand, let along go inside.

  Two Hornets streaked across the sky, flying so close it looked as if their wings were touching. A couple of Blue Angels, taking a trial spin.

  The ache inside Jim was as big as the Grand Canyon. Bigger. He was falling into his hurt, and soon he would vanish. He fought against the pain, wrestled with loss, struggled against defeat.

  The victory was hard-fought and slow in coming, but he won. Finally, he won.

  With the military bearing of a man who was proud to be in the service of his country, Lieutenant Commander Jim Standing Bear went inside.

  Commander Chuck Sayers was more than Jim’s superior officer; he was his friend. A huge grin split his face when Jim walked into his office.

  “Bear!” Chuck embraced him, then pounded him on the back. “Good lord, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Sit down, tell me what’s happening, how’ve you been?”

  “Lower than a toad and meaner than a grizzly.”

  “Ben told us you weren’t seeing anybody.”

  “I couldn’t. Too many reminders. I hope there are no hard feelings, Chuck.”

  “I understand. Hell, I can say that, and it sounds so artificial. You’re back, Bear. That’s all that matters.”

  Chuck picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers, a sure sign he was nervous.

  “You are back, aren’t you? You’re not thinking of doing anything foolish like resigning your commission or taking a disability discharge, are you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” At Chuck’s look of alarm, Jim added, “Briefly.”

  “Thank God.”

  The two old friends and flying buddies studied each other, aware that their relationship was now different and uncertain how to handle the change.

  Get it out in the open, Jim told himself.

  “I saw a couple of Hornets when I drove in. Who’s flying my position now?”

  “Lt. Everett Haske is flying right wing now, Bear. He’s a good kid. A Californian. Got his gold wings in ’91. He’s not you, but he’s trying really hard, and I think he’s eventually going to be an asset to the team.”

  Chuck spun his pen round and round. “I’m damned sorry, Bear.”

  “What’s done is done. It’s useless to look back. I should know. I did it for six months.”

  “Ben told me that you were walking.”

  “What else did Ben tell you?”

  “He said that if you ever got your butt over here I should pin you to the wall until you agreed to stay.”

  Jim laughed. “Are you going to?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “No. I’m back, Chuck. To stay.”

  The pen spun across the desk once more, then Chuck gave Jim a squinty-eyed look.

  “There’s an opening for flight instructor.”

  Grounded. Never to feel the power of the Hornet again. Never to fly so high and so fast he felt as if he’d touched the face of God.

  Don’t think of the things you’ve lost, he told himself. Think of the things you’ll gain.

  Excellent flight training could mean the difference between life and death to a pilot. Jim could make a difference—for somebody else.

  “I was hoping so,” he said quietly.

  After Sarah came home from the hospital, she fell into bed and slept like the dead for two hours. When she woke up she was alone in an empty house. Completely alone.

  And it was all her fault. If she’d been vigilant her father wouldn’t have run away. If she’d been paying attention to her family instead of running wild because of her heart, her dad would be donning an old top hat and yelling, “Let’s dance, Ginger.”

  “Let’s dance, Sarah,” he used to say when she was six and full of ballerina dreams. He had given her the dreams, and so much more.

  And she had repaid him by letting him down. “A nursing home,” Julie had said.

  “Over my dead body,” Sarah muttered.

  She saw herself in the full-length mirror as she headed for her bath. Where was the plain, gawky woman she’d been? It astonished Sarah now that she’d let a chance remark heard backstage become her Waterloo. Somebody had called her homely, and for years she’d worn the label like a scarlet letter instead of fighting back.

  It had taken Jim to make her see herself as beautiful. The handsome Bear. The man who had turned her inside out, who had turned her world upside down.

  The man she could never have. A pain caught her in the heart and wouldn’t let go. Sarah turned on the water full force, but it didn’t help. Every precious moment she’d spent with Jim played through her mind.

  She couldn’t say the exact moment she’d started loving him, for it felt as if she always had. This much she knew: she always would.

  She counted herself lucky. Who would have imagined that a woman as plain as Sarah Sloan would have a romance, however brief, with a man as glorious as Jim Standing Bear? She had enough memories to last a lifetime.

  And they had to. Her father had devoted his life to her and her sister. And now she would devote hers to him. Exclusively. There would be no repeats of what had happened last night.

  A vision of Jim rose in her mind. Paradise lost.

  “I won’t think of him right now,” she whispered. She couldn’t afford to. She needed all her energy for the tasks ahead, facing down Julie and caring for her dad.

  And she was going to fight Julie, no matter what the argument. Though her sister had the most loving intentions, she did tend to be bossy. And Sarah, the peacemaker, rarely argued.

  Well, she was through being the complacent sister. From now on she was Sarah the warrior. Not warrior princess. That was too fussy and prissy. Sarah Sloan was a warrior. A woman to be reckoned with.

  And God help the first person who crossed her.

  She was still in the tub when the doorbell rang. Julie, probably. She wrapped herself in her robe, and went downstairs barefoot.

  “Coming,” she said when the doorbell pinged again. “Just a minute, Julie.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  It was Jim Standing Bear on her front porch, and all Sarah’s newfound courage went out the window.

  The sight of Sarah fresh from her bath dealt Jim a blow he hadn’t expected. He had come to ask about her father. Or so he’d thought. He’d come to tell her that he was no longer a man adrift. Or so he’d believed.

  But Sarah’s hair was slicked back and her skin was dew-damp and her eyes were shining, and all he could think about was kissing her.

  Fortunately, she was just as discomfited as he. The best plan would be a quick inquiry, then a hasty retreat.

  “I’ve come at a bad time,” he said. “I can come back.”

  “No. Come in.” He noticed how she tightened her belt as if she were girding herself for battle. Or perhaps she thought he might rip it from her body. Which was exactly what he wanted to do. Maybe not rip. Peel. That was it. He wanted to peel the robe away slowly so that she was offered up to him bit by enticing bit.

  “I should have called first,” he said.

  “Actually, I’m glad you came. It gives me a chance to thank you for all you’ve
done for me and my family.”

  “You’re more than welcome, Sarah.”

  There was something different about her, something Jim couldn’t put his finger on, something exciting and slightly dangerous. Not that she hadn’t always been exciting. Still, she had a new edge that took his breath away. And nearly took his control.

  He wrested it back. One step at a time, he reminded himself. Now was the time to support her, not court her.

  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to know,” she said. “How did you know something was wrong?”

  Was it only last night? It seemed like a million years.

  “Intuition, Sarah. Every pilot has it to a certain degree. I’ve been gifted with more than my share. It’s almost a clairvoyance.” He smiled at her. “Ben claims it’s all part of the Native American heritage, and that’s quite an admission coming from somebody who has to see it under a microscope to believe it.”

  Jim couldn’t believe himself. He sounded like a damned magpie. Ben would laugh his head off if he could hear.

  “How is your father?” He wished he had asked the question first.

  “He’s going to be fine, thanks to you.”

  “I’m sorry I had to leave the hospital without saying goodbye. There was something I had to do. Something important.”

  Now what? Sarah was as polite as usual, but her usual avid interest was missing. Jim blundered on.

  “I went to see Commander Chuck Sayers, Sarah. At the base. I’m going back, as flight instructor.”

  “I’m glad, Jim.”

  Her smile was genuine. But her interest was still tepid. What had he expected? That she’d jump through hoops? She had a father in the hospital, worries on her mind.

  Feeling awkward and just a bit foolish, Jim stood up. If he’d had on a hat he would be twisting it in his hands.

  “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do. Anytime, Sarah. Day or night.”

  A faint blush crept into her cheeks.

  So, she’s not as unmoved as she seems. Jim indulged in a bit of selfish glee. Pride, he guessed. He wanted Sarah to desire him as much as he desired her.

  “Thank you, Jim.”

  Except for the telltale blush, her face gave nothing away. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do except leave.