Wife in the Mail

by Marie Ferrarella

  He struggled to stay conscious. “As all right as I can be.” Each word was an effort, but there were some he had to say. “Sydney, if anything happens to me—”

  She didn’t want to go there. “Nothing’s going to happen.” She was aware that the words strained through her teeth. “You hear me? You’re going to be fine. I can land this thing.”

  Right, God? I can do this. Please, I’ll never ask You for anything else again, just let me land this thing safely.

  Shayne wasn’t thinking about the landing. He knew she could do it, through sheer grit. But patients out here died before they received medical attention and he knew that he had waited too long.

  “But if it does,” he persisted. “I want you to take care of Sara and Mac.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She didn’t want him dwelling on the negative. He was going to be fine, just fine. She wasn’t going to let him die. And then, because he needed to hear her promise, she said, “I will.”

  Shayne knew he could count on her. It was going to be all right. He could let go if he knew Sydney would be there for them. He should have put up more of a fight to have them in his life. And less of a fight to push Sydney out of it.

  “And Sydney…”

  “What?” She realized she’d snapped the word. Her hands were rigid on the wheel. “Sorry, just a little edgy. What do you want to tell me?”

  “I love you.”

  Only extreme concentration kept Sydney from dipping the plane. “You really have to work on your timing, Shayne.” He was delirious, she thought. He probably wouldn’t even remember saying that to her once this was over. “Hang on, we’re almost there.” When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him. He was slumped in his seat, his eyes shut. Her heart stopped. “Shayne? Oh, God.” Flipping on the autopilot switch, she felt his chest. It was moving. He was alive.

  Sydney reclaimed control of the plane, then fumbled for the radio. “Anchorage, I’m a small Cessna heading your way and I have a very big problem. Do you read me?”

  After what felt like an eternity, she heard a crackling noise.

  “Cessna, this is Anchorage. We read you loud and clear. What’s your problem?”

  The sound of another voice, a calm, competent resonant male voice, almost made her cry.

  “I’m flying Dr. Shayne Kerrigan to the hospital. He has acute appendicitis and he’s just passed out.” It was going to be all right, she told herself. It was. Never mind that her whole body felt as if a squadron of ants was moving up and down it. “And, Anchorage…I’ve never flown before. Talk me down, please.”

  “Cessna, this is going to be smooth as silk,” the voice promised.

  She blinked back tears. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Her bones only turned to liquid afterward, as she stood in the hospital waiting area after what seemed like a thousand years later. The landing had been bumpy, but they’d made it. There was a medical helicopter waiting for them and she and Shayne had been whisked off to the hospital. She’d held Shayne’s hand all the way there. He’d never regained consciousness.

  She’d lived in terror for the entire two hours that the surgery had taken. Twice as long, she knew, as it should have. But that was because, she was told later, Shayne’s appendix had burst on the operating table, making the surgery that much more complicated.

  She’d kissed the surgeon when he’d come out of the operating room to tell her that Shayne was going to be all right.

  Now, feeling oddly disembodied, she hit the numbers to Shayne’s home. The phone was picked up on the first ring. She heard Ike’s voice.

  “Hello, Ike? It’s Sydney.”

  “Thank God. You made it then.” He didn’t begin to tell her the thoughts that had been going through his head as he’d tried to distract Shayne’s children from the drama happening beyond their reach.

  “No, they’ve installed phones in heaven.” She laughed giddily, so grateful the ordeal was over. So grateful she’d made it just in time. “Yes, we made it They just finished operating on him. Doctor says he’s going to be all right.” She’d never let herself believe anything else. But now that it was over, now that she had said the words out loud, she realized how terrified she’d been. “Give me the kids, will you? Hold the receiver between them.”

  “Sure thing. They’re right here, tugging on me.”

  She heard the sound of the receiver being moved. The next thing she knew, she heard both children shouting her name.

  “Sydney, is he…?” Mac’s voice trailed off.

  “You dad’s going to be fine, Mac. The doctor just came out and told me so.”

  “When can Daddy come home?” Sara wanted to know.

  “In about three or four days.” Sooner if he had anything to say about it, if she knew him. “I’ll be home as soon as I can and tell you all about it.”

  She heard the receiver being transferred again and then Ike was on the line. “Hey, Earhart, why don’t you stay there awhile until you’re in shape to fly again? I can take care of the kids.”

  She wanted to get back, to reassure the children in person. Shayne would be asleep for most of the rest of the day. “I’m fine, Ike.”

  “You bet you are.” He laughed.

  As if she were handling something very fragile, Sydney carefully replaced the telephone receiver into its cradle. Then, with her back against the wall, she slid bonelessly to the floor and covered her face with both hands as relief flooded through her.

  He was going to be all right.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stepping away from the small Twin Otter, Sydney waved at Jeb Kellogg as he initiated takeoff. He’d just refused her invitation to come in for a cup of coffee and some pie. There was a load of fresh produce and dairy products waiting to be delivered to his father’s store. The round trip to Anchorage to pick Shayne up from the hospital had taken longer than they had anticipated.

  But that was because Shayne’s doctor hadn’t really wanted to release him. He’d wanted Shayne to remain one more day. Shayne had been very vocal about his thoughts on that matter.

  Sydney had thought he should remain, too. But her opinion obviously counted for less than the doctor’s, if Shayne’s tone was any indication. Still, she wished he’d given in and agreed to stay the extra day. He looked thinner. It was the first thing that she really noticed coming into the hospital this morning, that he was thinner. Not thin, just thinner. Four days had made a difference and he’d been through a lot, including peritonitis.

  Shayne had waved it off, claiming the hospital food was responsible for his weight loss.

  Knowing she wouldn’t get anywhere arguing with him, Sydney had dropped the subject.

  “C’mon, let’s get you inside,” Ike said, slinging Shayne’s arm over his shoulder. They were almost the same height. The arrangement made for awkward progress at best.

  Thinner or not, it was wonderful to see Shayne again, Sydney thought. She’d stayed away those four days, calling the hospital to see how he was doing. Sydney figured he needed the time away from her, and besides, she had Sara and Mac to care for, and the clinic to run. She’d rescheduled the patients with minor problems and rerouted the ones needing immediate attention to Anchorage. Jeb Kellogg had flown them there and back.

  Leading the way into the house, Sydney looked over her shoulder at Shayne. “The nurses told me you were the worst patient they’d had in quite a while.”

  “Sounds about right,” Ike agreed.

  Shayne couldn’t argue with the evaluation. “Occupational habit when you’re a doctor. You don’t like having anyone around, telling you they know what’s best for you.”

  And that would be her, she thought. He was giving her a not-so-subtle message about their relationship. “So let me get this straight, that’s why you became a doctor, to fit your personality? Because you wouldn’t have liked anyone telling you they knew better than you even if you were a kayak salesman?”

  God, but it was good to see her. All the way
over from Anchorage, all Shayne could do was look at her. And realize over and over again how much he’d missed seeing her. “You could be right.”

  Sydney’s hands flew to her chest, covering one another. “Wait, my heart. I don’t think I can stand the strain of the all-knowing Shayne Kerrigan admitting someone else was right besides him.”

  She hadn’t changed any. His mouth curved. “You saved my life, I’ll let that pass.”

  Sydney turned from the front door. “I saved your life and you’ll let a lot of things pass.”

  He exchanged looks with Ike. “Why do I get the feeling she’ll hold me to that?”

  “Because I will,” she answered simply. Before opening the door, she stopped. He could do with a bit of coaching. “Now there are two small children in there who have lived in terror of your not coming back. I want you to give them the biggest, most reassuring grin you can muster.”

  Ike laughed. “Hell, then they won’t know it’s Shayne.”

  Shayne was growing impatient as well as weary. He hated feeling weak, it left him far too vulnerable. “You don’t have to tell me how to behave with my kids.”

  She wasn’t about to back down, not when it came to Sara and Mac. They were too impressionable. “Someone has to. Might as well be me. Ready?”

  The sigh was more of a huff. “Just open the door, Sydney.”

  “Do as he says, darling’,” Ike begged. “This man’s no featherweight.”

  The moment she opened the front door, Sara and Mac poured out onto the porch as if they’d been hovering behind the door all afternoon. Between them, they almost managed to knock Shayne down. If Ike hadn’t been supporting him, they probably would have.

  Sara buried her face in the bottom of his parka, her small arms unable to reach around him for the bear hug she so desperately wanted to give him. “Daddy, you’re back.”

  He laid his hand on her head, stroking it. “I said I would be.”

  She raised her head to look up at him. “We thought…”

  He knew what she thought. What he’d thought, too. There was no purpose in going there. “Never mind that now, I’m all right.”

  Mac grinned, looking at Sydney. “Just like Sydney said.”

  “Yes, just like Sydney said,” Shayne agreed.

  “And now Sydney says, everybody get inside before you all get sick.” Sydney shooed them all into the house. “I’m not about to play Nancy Nurse to the lot of you.”

  With a child on either side of him, Shayne entered the house he’d lived in all of his life. And thought how wonderful it was to be home again.

  Sydney’d been busy in his absence, he noted. There was what looked to be at least a nine-foot tree standing in the corner, decked out in decorations he didn’t recognize.

  “See you put up a tree.”

  She couldn’t tell by his tone if he was annoyed at her presumption. That much hadn’t changed about him, he still left her guessing. “Had to do something to keep them occupied.”

  Sara ran over to the sofa and hurried back with a small, rectangular box. Silver streamers protruded out of an opening, catching the light and gleaming. Sara offered the box to her father. “We saved the tinsel for you.”

  Sydney laid a restraining had on Sara’s shoulder. “Your dad’s not up to throwing tinsel yet, Sara. Maybe tomorrow.”

  But Shayne wanted to join in, to experience everything as if he’d been given a second chance to make up for all his shortcomings and all the time he’d lost.

  “Sure I am.” Gingerly, he picked several strands from the box and pitched them toward the tree. They fell almost a foot short.

  “And that, ladies and gentlemen,” Sydney murmured glibly, “is one of the main reasons why Alaska has no official baseball team. No local talent.”

  Mac quickly scrambled to pick up the strands, glossing over his father’s failure.

  “That’s okay, Dad, you can do this later.” He deposited the tinsel on the coffee table. “Christmas is still a couple of days off.”

  Christmas. The word finally sank in. Christmas was almost here and he had nothing to give either of them. He’d put off shopping and now it was too late.

  “Might be longer than that,” Shayne commented under his breath. How did he go about telling them that he didn’t have anything for them? What kind of a father did that make him?

  “Don’t bet the clinic on it,” Ike whispered in his ear. Shayne looked at him quizzically. Ike nodded toward Sydney who was hurrying up the stairs to get Shayne’s bed ready. “She took care of things for you in that department.” He should know. He helped her carry the things she’d bought at the general store to the four-by-four. Ike looked at Shayne significantly. “I’d say she takes damn good care of you in every department.” And then he shrugged carelessly. “But then, that’d be just me talking.”

  “Something you do an awful lot of,” Shayne agreed.

  He owed her a great deal, Shayne thought. More, he was beginning to believe, than he could ever hope to pay back.

  Ike shifted, getting a better grip around Shayne’s waist. He turned toward the stairs. “And I’m going to do just a mite more talking while I get you up to your room. I don’t have to tell you competition’s stiff around here. You don’t start acting like the smart man you are,” he warned Shayne, “one fine day you’re going to find yourself real empty-handed.”

  Shayne already knew that, but he’d just endured four days of poking and prodding. Not in the best of humors, he bristled at Ike’s presumption. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  Ike stopped at the landing, getting a second wind. He turned toward Shayne’s room.

  “Yeah, it is.” A few more steps and Ike deposited Shayne onto the bed. He’d had lighter loads to maneuver. “Okay, patient’s all yours, darlin’. Not much to look at, but hell, we knew that already, didn’t we?” He grinned, backing out of the room. “See you two around.”

  Sydney walked him just to the doorway. “Thanks for everything, Ike.” And then she turned her attention to Shayne. He looked exhausted. Probably bite her head off if she mentioned it, though. “Anything I can get you?”

  When he shook his head, it didn’t surprise her. “No, you’ve already done plenty.”

  Sydney laughed softly to herself. “Well, that much hasn’t changed. I still don’t know if what you’re saying is a compliment or a criticism.”

  “It’s neither. It’s gratitude.”

  Her surprise melted into something softer. “That would explain why I didn’t recognize it. You’ve never offered it before.”

  There was so much he wanted to say to her, if he could only find the words. “Maybe I should have.”

  She smiled, seeing more in his eyes than she’d ever seen before. “Don’t strain yourself your first time out.” Her smile widened. “I wouldn’t want to have to fly you back to the hospital.”

  “I wouldn’t want to have to go.”

  Again, she wasn’t sure what he meant. Only what she wanted him to mean. “There’s that quandary again.” She moved toward the doorway. “I’ll let you get some rest.”

  She was almost gone when she heard him call her name. “Sydney?”

  Sydney ducked back inside the room. “Yes?”

  “The tree looks nice.”

  She knew what it took for him to give out an actual compliment. Something a little shy of an act of Congress. She restrained the desire to fly back to his side and throw her arms around him. There was no way she could express how relieved she was that he was here, that he was alive.

  “It’ll look nicer with tinsel. Get your pitching arm in shape.” And with that, she eased the door closed.

  Shayne couldn’t remember the last time Christmas had meant squeals, flying paper and joyous noise. Somewhere back in the early years of his childhood, probably. He sat on the sofa, absorbing it all. Thinking how much he enjoyed being in the center of this kind of chaos.

  And he had Sidney to thank for it.

  He had her
to thank for a lot of things. Without Sydney, most of this wouldn’t have happened. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have been here to enjoy it, either. She’d given him back his life in more than one way.

  “Wow, it’s just what I wanted!” Mac cried. All smiles, he looked at Shayne as he clutched a box that contained the latest model of an electronic game system to his chest. “How did you know?”

  There was a very simple explanation. He hadn’t known. Hadn’t been responsible for any of the myriad gifts that were scattered about, playing hide-and-seek with wrapping paper on his living room floor. It had all been Sydney’s doing.

  “Dads always know these kinds of things,” Sydney told Mac, coming to Shayne’s rescue.

  She was always coming to his rescue, he thought, one way or another. She had from the very first.

  “I just love my kitty,” Sara said for the umpteenth time as she rubbed her face along the soft calico-colored fur.

  “Be gentle with her,” Sydney cautioned. “She’s still a baby.”

  “I will,” Sara promised solemnly.

  Gingerly, Shayne stepped around the clutter to get to Sydney. It’d been two days since he’d come home and he was still feeling a little wobbly, but a great deal better than he had when he’d first walked through the door.

  “Sydney, about what I said in the plane when you were taking me to the hospital…”

  Wading through the sea of paper, she began picking it up. “You mean, when you asked me to take care of Sara and Mac if something—”

  “No, after that.”

  Sydney turned away, picking up another flurry of paper, flattening it against the first pile. “You said something after that?”

  With determination, he took the torn wrapping paper from her hands. She knew damn well he’d said something, something that desperation had prompted him to say. Something he meant. “I said I love you.”

  She looked at him, wondering what it was he wanted from her now. He’d already taken her heart and then walked over it. Wasn’t that enough? What was this latest salvo he wanted to fire at her?