by JoAnn Ross
I plan to write Harlan a letter explaining my unexpected departure. Then I will find hiding places for my journals. As much as I love my sister, I have never welcomed her unfortunate habit of invading my privacy in her apparent need to know the most minuscule details of my life. Now that I know the secret life she’s been forced to live, I suppose I can understand her need for control.
There is little I would not do for my older sister. But I refuse to share the intimate secrets of my love for Harlan, and his for me. That is not only secret, it is sacred.
As she closed the journal, Savannah once again compared her situation to Lucy’s. Both had left behind a former life to come to Coldwater Cove. Both women had found the lighthouse a source of comfort and fulfillment.
Both had found men they loved. Men who loved them. Men who wanted to have families with them.
The difference was that Lucy had been brave enough to risk everything for Harlan Hyatt. Tragically, their time together had been cut short, but the journal entries assured Savannah that even if Lucy had been able to look into a crystal ball and see what lay in store for them, she still would have chosen those seven happy years over a life without him.
“This is what you wanted me to know, isn’t it, Lucy?” Savannah murmured into the silence. “You weren’t running away. You didn’t desert your husband and son.”
She felt a zephyr waft over her, stirring her hair. That was, of course, impossible, since it was December, and no windows were open.
Savannah reminded herself that the lighthouse was a hundred years old. It was bound to be drafty.
She almost had herself believing that logical explanation—until the electric candles she’d placed in the windows suddenly turned on.
A week after he’d left Savannah in bed at the lighthouse, Dan walked into his cousin’s office.
“Hey, the prodigal returns.” Jack was sitting back in his chair, his feet up on the scarred desk that had belonged to his father, working his way through one of Oley’s Timberburgers with all the trimmings and an order of French fries.
“I’ve got a court date tomorrow.” Dan snagged a fry and sat down on the other side of the desk. “Kathi Montgomery’s divorce.”
“How’s she doing?” Jack shoved half the burger on its yellow waxed-paper wrapper across the desk.
“A lot better.” Dan bit into the juicy flame-broiled burger. “As you know, she’s gone back to work—”
“Yeah, Raine says Ida gets better every day.”
“That’s undoubtedly partly due to Ida’s unsinkable spirit,” Dan allowed. “Anyway, Kathi’s moved out of the shelter into an apartment, and by this time tomorrow she should be a free woman.”
“I’m a little surprised her husband hasn’t caused any more problems.”
“Me, too. Maybe the idea that he can’t keep her married to him by force finally sank in.”
“Maybe.” Jack didn’t sound as hopeful. Then again, Dan considered, if he had spent all those years as a big-city cop, he’d probably expect domestic violence cases to go from bad to worse, too.
He leaned over the desk to grab some more fries and was amused by the title of the book next to Jack’s boots: Everything the Expectant Father Should Know, But Is Afraid to Ask.
“How does it feel to be facing fatherhood for the second time?”
“Terrific.” Jack took a drink of root beer. “And terrifying. I’d also forgotten that pregnant women tend to go insane from time to time. Raine actually cried at a tire commercial last night. You know, the one with the babies?”
“That sounds a bit extreme. But she seems pretty sane at the office. Or at least she was when I left.”
Jack mumbled something around a mouthful of fries that Dan couldn’t quite make out.
“Besides, it could be worse,” he suggested. “You could be pregnant.”
“That’s what Raine keeps reminding me. She also suggested that it’s easy for me to stay calm since I’m not the one who’s going to have to pass something the size of a basketball through a small opening in my body.”
Dan grimaced. “Good point.”
“She’s also got me reading all these damn books.” He nudged the thick book with the toe of his boot.
“Never hurts to be informed.”
“Yeah. But you know Raine when she sets her mind to something.” He took another noisy slurp of root beer. “Christ, I keep expecting to come home to a pop quiz.”
“Sorry pal, you’re not going to get any sympathy from me.”
During the week he’d forced himself to stay away, far from temptation at his cousin Caine’s fishing cabin in British Columbia, Dan had not stopped thinking about Savannah. One of the more appealing fantasies, after the hot sex ones that had him waking up as horny as a two-peckered billy goat, was the image of her ripe and round with his child.
“You’re damn lucky.”
“I know.” Jack glanced over at the framed photograph of his wife and daughter. “I could put up with the tears and the stacks of books she keeps bringing home. I could even handle the Mexican food we’ve been having every night for dinner for the past two weeks because she has a craving for hot sauce. But you want to know the kicker?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You may have noticed that the Boob Fairy has paid us a visit.”
“This may come as a surprise, but I don’t spend a lot of time checking out your wife’s breasts.”
“Well, if you did, you’d have noticed that they’re suddenly spectacular. Playmate quality.”
“Congratulations,” Dan said dryly.
“The trouble is”—Jack plowed his hand through his hair—“I’m not allowed to touch.”
Dan laughed at the exasperation on his cousin’s face. “That is a bummer.”
“It’s not funny.” Jack took a huge bite of burger, as if attempting to crave his sexual hunger with ground beef. “She told me they’re for the baby. For Christ’s sake, we’re talking another five months before the kid’s born…. Remember back when we were in high school, all we could think about was how to score with a girl?”
“Sure.”
“Well, second base has never looked so good.”
Dan laughed as the intercom from the outer office buzzed. Still muttering about injustice, Jack scooped up the receiver.
“What’s up?” Something hard Dan had never seen before moved across his face. “Goddamn it.” It was fury, Dan realized. Ruthlessly, rigidly controlled. “Any word on injuries? What about people inside the house? Did you call it in to the State Police? Okay. I’m on my way…. Montgomery just went ape-shit and shot his wife when she came out of Ida’s.”
Dan shot to his feet. “How is she? Is anyone else hurt?” Had Savannah been at the house? The possibility sent a chill racing through his blood.
“Kathi’s still alive, but I don’t know her condition. According to Gwen, who called it in, the bastard was hiding in the bushes, shot her once, then took off. The family’s shaken but, thank God, safe.”
He grabbed his Stetson from its wall hook and was out the office door, Dan right behind him.
“Wait.” Iris Johansson held up a hand as they passed her desk. “Another call’s coming in…. There’s been an accident. The subject hit a bicyclist while fleeing the scene of the shooting…. The hit-and-run victim is reported to be John Martin.”
“What?” Dan spun back toward her.
“Just a minute.” She tilted her head, obviously listening to the voice in her headset earphone. Her eyes, as they slid from Jack to Dan, darkened with sympathy. “The suspect is in State Police custody after running off the road on the old highway and hitting a tree…. The deputy on the first accident scene is reporting that the victim doesn’t show any vital signs.”
“Tell him to look harder,” Dan shot back.
“The paramedics have arrived at the scene,” she continued passing on what was coming into her ear. But the information was directed at Dan’s back as he and Jack tore out of the office.
Jack hit the siren before they’d slammed the doors on the Suburban. “Fasten your seat belt,” he barked at his cousin. “The one thing we don’t need is another O’Halloran landing in the ER.”
There’d been a mistake, Dan told himself over and over again as they raced down Harbor street. They had the wrong victim. Or the deputy didn’t know how to check for a pulse.
John couldn’t die now. Not like this. Not after all he’d already survived in his young life. Dan wouldn’t let him.
“He isn’t dead, damn it,” Dan repeated again and again. His words were half curse, half prayer.
Savannah found Dan pacing the floor of the same small room where they’d all spent too many hours waiting for news of Ida.
“Raine called me.” She wrapped her arms around him, held him tight.
“Thank God.” He buried his face in her hair. “I need you.”
“I need you, too.” Strange how those words had ceased to cause that knee-jerk fear. Savannah realized that when your world went spinning out of control, it was a relief—and, as Raine had pointed out, a blessing—to have someone to hold on to. “But we can talk about all that later.”
Dan was trembling. It broke her heart. “What have they told you?” she asked gently.
He took a huge breath and lifted his head so he could meet her gaze. His handsome face was haggard and gray. His flat blue eyes had that thousand-yard stare that a soldier’s might acquire after a horrendous battle.
“Not much. The cop couldn’t find any vitals, but the EMTs brought him back on the way, then lost him again.” He dragged in another gulp of air on a ragged moan. “Since no one’s come in to tell me any different, I’m going to assume he’s alive.”
“Of course he is.” She couldn’t imagine otherwise. “You need to sit down.” She urged him toward one of the orange chairs. “Before you fall down and break that pretty face.” She framed the face, which was anything but pretty at the moment, between her palms.
“I hate this,” he muttered. But as docile as a lamb, he sank onto the chair.
Savannah sat down beside him, his cold hand tight between both of hers. “I know.”
“Christ. If forcing people to wait for news was an Olympic sport, this place would win a goddamn gold medal.”
“I know,” she repeated. “But as you said, in this case, no news is probably good news.” She looked up as Jack came into the room. “Hi.”
“Hi.” His tone was as flat as hers. “They’ve still got John in the crash room. I managed to get a look at him surrounded by people, but one of the nurses kicked me out before I could get a handle on how he was doing. I was thinking about using my badge to pull rank, then decided that if I hung around, I’d just be in the way.”
“That’s good news that they’re still working on him,” Savannah said, her positive tone meant to assure them all. Especially Dan, who was looking like death warmed over himself.
“That’s what I figured,” Jack said.
Dan merely grunted. Then dragged the hand Savannah wasn’t holding down his face.
“Kathi’s going to be all right,” Jack volunteered into the silence that had settled over the room like thick, dreary winter fog. “Fortunately Montgomery was a lousy shot. There was a lot of blood on the scene, but the wound turned out to be superficial. They’re going to keep her overnight, then probably release her in the morning.”
“That’s something,” Dan said. “What about Montgomery?”
“He was thrown out of the car. Broke his neck on impact and was DOA.”
Dan nodded, satisfied at least about this. “Good.”
No one spoke for another long time. Finally, a nurse appeared in the doorway. Dan jerked when he viewed Mrs. Kellstrom’s blood-stained scrubs. Knowing that it was John’s blood made Savannah want to burst into tears. But she was determined to remain strong for Dan.
“The doctor asked that I talk with you, since he’s on the way to surgery. He wanted you to know that we’ve got John stabilized.” Her steady brown eyes didn’t reveal a thing. “It was touch and go when he first came in. We almost lost him twice, but Dr. Hawthorne refused to let him go. The entire time he was doing CPR, he kept muttering about plastic flowers.”
The name, coupled with the mention of plastic flowers, rang a bell. “His mother has Alzheimer’s,” Savannah said. “John planted a plastic garden for her so she’ll always have flowers.”
“That’s what Dr. Hawthorne said,” the nurse agreed. “I wasn’t surprised, knowing how good John’s been to my Cindy.” She smiled encouragingly at Dan. “He’s a wonderful boy. He’s bound to have built up a lot of credits in heaven.”
“Just so long as he doesn’t end up there anytime soon,” Dan countered. “Why’s he going to surgery?”
“Dr. Hawthorne believes his blood pressure crash was due to internal bleeding. John has multisystem injuries—a broken arm and nose and several fractured ribs. There was no sign of it on the x-ray, but the doctors were worried about a torn lung, so we put in a chest tube.
“Since John kept lapsing in and out of consciousness, Dr. Burke was called for a consult, but the CAT scan didn’t reveal any brain damage, other than some swelling that’s fairly routine in traumas like this.”
“Nothing about this is routine.”
“Of course it’s not to you,” Mrs. Kellstrom agreed with Dan’s gritty assessment. “Dr. Hawthorne suspects that the internal bleeding may be coming from a ruptured spleen,” she continued her report.
“Jesus.” Dan turned from gray to green.
“I wish I had better news. But the doctor’s an excellent surgeon,” she assured them all. “So long as he can stop the bleeding, John’s chances of a full recovery are excellent.”
She skimmed a professional look over Dan’s face, apparently not liking what she saw. “John will probably be in surgery well into the night. Why don’t you go home and get some rest and—”
“No.” Dan shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I,” Savannah said.
Jack folded his arms. “Me neither.”
The nurse didn’t look at all surprised. “I’ll have the cafeteria send up three dinner trays.”
Savannah suspected that neither Dan nor Jack had any more appetite than she did. But it seemed easier not to argue.
With nothing to do but wait, they hunkered down for the duration.
24
T hey were still there in the morning when Dr. Hawthorne finally showed up in the waiting room. His scrubs bore dark blood stains, just as Mrs. Kellstrom’s had last night. His face and eyes looked weary, but not, Dan determined, defeated.
“It was touch and go for a while,” he told them. “But, barring complications, John’s going to be fine. We didn’t have to remove his spleen, his lungs are fine, and at his age, bones heal fast.”
The breath came out of Dan in a slow, relieved whoosh.
“When can I see him?”
“He’s in recovery now. Give him some time to come around, then you’ll probably be able to visit him in the ICU in”—he glanced at his watch—“about an hour.”
“Thank you.” Dan could have kissed him, then decided against embarrassing the man who’d literally brought his nephew back from the dead.
“It was my pleasure.” The doctor, who looked as if he needed sleep as much as the rest of them, managed a smile. “I owed the kid a huge favor for what he did for my mother. I was grateful for the opportunity to pay him back.”
“You sure did that,” Dan said. “In spades.”
“Well,” Jack unfolded himself from the hard plastic chair and stretched. “Now that we’ve survived this latest crisis, I think I’ll go home to my wife and daughter.”
“Good idea.” He hadn’t kissed the doctor, but Dan hugged his cousin. “Thanks for sticking around.”
“John’s family,” Jack said simply, as if that explained everything. Which, Dan thought, it did. “So are you.” Jack bent and kissed Savan
nah’s cheek. Then left them alone.
Savannah turned toward Dan. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
His eyes were exhausted, but the life, the warmth, was back. So was his color. The stubble of beard was sexy, Savannah decided. Actually, everything about Dan was sexy. That was only one of the many reasons she’d fallen in love with him.
“You’re the one who went away.” Now that things were looking up, Savannah allowed herself a slight sulk about that.
“And thought of you every damn minute. Besides, you’re the one who said you needed some time alone,” he reminded her. “The one who equated loving me with weakness.”
“I was wrong.” It irked a little. But she’d get over it. They’d get over it together. “So sue me.”
“I’d rather kiss you.”
He skimmed his palms over her shoulders, down her arms. When his fingers encircled her wrists she viewed the flash of male satisfaction in his eyes and suspected he’d felt her pulse rate jump.
“I’d rather you kiss me, too.”
The kiss was long and sweet and satisfying.
“That was nice.” She rubbed her cheek against his roughened jaw.
“I can do better,” he promised. “Later.”
“I’m going to hold you to it.” She tilted her head back and smiled. “Later.”
Savannah wanted to tell him all about Lucy, about the journal and the candles, but that could wait. After all, they were going to have a lifetime together.
“My grandmother’s always had a saying I’ve been thinking a lot about lately,” she revealed. “Carpe diem…. Seize the carp.”
He smiled back. “Wise woman, your grandmother.”
