“We’ll charter you a plane. Our new parents can take the same flight back to Charleston. Is that okay with you, Jack?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I accept your offer,” Sara said. Damn, he didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other what she did.
“Sara, I’m sorry about Benton Memorial. I’d like the chance to make it up to you,” Dallas said.
“That’s not necessary . . . Jack. I more or less decided to head East and see how I like the Big Apple. But first I’m going back home. I’m going to rent a house and walk around and then do absolutely nothing for as long as I feel like it. I’m going to look up all my old friends, especially Barbara McDermott De Mera. I need to find out exactly who Sara Killian is once and for all. Maybe she can tell me. I need to do what you did, Dallas.” There, she’d told him exactly what and where she’d be. The next move was up to him.
“Will we ever see you again?” There was a catch in Adam’s voice that did not go unnoticed by Dallas.
Sara shrugged because she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“So who is buried, or cremated, in your . . . you know?” Tom asked.
“Don’s brother. They didn’t have any family. Don took care of Bruce the way Adam took care of me. They were orphans, too. I sent money anonymously to pay for the funerals from my wad of cash. When things are back to normal, I’ll initiate a search for any distant cousins or relatives and do the right thing. Call the hospital, Adam, and see what the judge’s condition is. Find out if it’s Christmas.”
“He’s stable. His family is with him. Today is Christmas Eve. We were two days ahead of ourselves. I wonder how that happened.”
“I guess it was meant to be this way.”
“Yeah, guess so,” Adam said.
“I’m going to get dressed,” Sara said.
“It’s cold out there so bundle up,” Dallas said.
“Yeah, it’s real cold out there,” Adam said.
“Freezing cold,” Tom volunteered.
Tears burned Sara’s eyes as she shed the warm woolly robe. The tears dripped down her cheeks as she pulled on a gray wool sweater and heavy corduroy trousers. It was over. She could give Dallas back his song and move on to her new life, whatever that new life would turn out to be. She choked back a sob. What was wrong with her? The aftermath of shock. She sat down on the bed, her shoulders shaking. She had her life back. Dallas Lord was alive and well. The brothers were united and would lead long, happy lives. “What about me?” she whimpered. “Merry Christmas, Sara Killian.”
Sara stood on the tarmac staring at the private jet that would fly her to Las Vegas. She had to turn around and say good-bye to the three men behind her. Childishly she crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t cry and make a fool of herself. Good-byes were never easy for anyone. She turned then, her eyes shining with tears. “Merry Christmas!” A second later she bounded up the steps. In the doorway she turned again, and shouted, “I’ll send the tape back when I get home.”
Sara buckled her seat belt. Moments later the private jet taxied down the runway. She was airborne within minutes. She howled her misery to the empty cabin. She was still crying when the jet set down on the runway, her eyes red and puffy. Inside the terminal, she stepped into Nellie and Carly’s waiting arms. She cried harder, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs. “Merry Christmas,” she blubbered.
Tom tried to make his voice sound cheerful. “You guys are like a couple of sad sacks,” he said. “Would you mind telling me why that is? Dallas is back among the living. We’re all here safe and sound. The judge is improving. Sandi’s in the lockup, and you two guys are going home to spend Christmas together with a new set of parents.”
“We’re tired,” Adam said.
“Exhausted,” Dallas said.
“Bullshit!” Tom Silk said.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Adam demanded.
“Whatever you want it to mean,” Tom said smoothly as he herded the dogs up the steps to the jet that would take them all to Charleston.
“You should have gone after her, Dallas.”
“I was going to say the same thing to you, Adam.”
“I asked her to dinner. Just once. Just dinner, Dallas.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. Sara’s her own person. I screwed up with that business at Benton. I don’t know what ever possessed me to do something like that.”
“We all make mistakes. Recognizing those wrongs and correcting them is what it’s all about. Are you in love with Sara?”
Dallas evaded the question to pose one of his own. “I saw you looking at her back in the cabin. Are you in love with her?”
“She was someone I thought I’d like to get to know better, but to answer your question, no, I am not in love with her. However, if you tell me you have no interest in the doctor, then I would like to take her to dinner at some point in time.” His voice was sly-sounding, but Dallas missed the tone because he was busy looking around the cabin of the plane.
“I don’t think it matters one way or the other. Sara has her life mapped out. She has things to do and places to go. Those things and places don’t include me or you either for that matter, Adam.”
“I can tell you how to get to that small town in Pennsylvania where she’s going. The one she grew up in. You fly into Pittsburgh and drive the rest of the way. That’s if you’re interested.”
Dallas’s voice turned testy. “I don’t recall saying I was interested. You, on the other hand, said you would like to take her to dinner. At some point in time. You could just as easily take that same plane you mentioned and rent your own damn car. That’s if you’re interested.”
“Hey, hey, it’s Christmas Eve. This is no time for fighting over a woman who obviously isn’t interested in either one of you,” Tom said.
Dallas slumped down into his seat. Adam did the same thing. Tom Silk smirked to himself.
“Adam?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not retarded. Not even mildly. I’m not slow either. You know, slow-witted.”
“I know that, Dallas.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me so. Why did you let me believe I was.”
“Dallas, look at me. I did tell you. You refused to believe me. How in the name of God could you be retarded and do what you do . . . did? When you got an idea into your head, I couldn’t shake it loose. No one could. You have to take responsibility for that yourself.”
“Billy . . .”
“Dallas, sometimes Billy was an asshole. Yeah, we knew him from the time we were kids, and he was our friend, but that doesn’t make what he did right. I tried to tell you about that, too, but you didn’t want to listen to me because you thought I was jealous of your friendship. Each of us, in our own way, was swimming upstream. All of that is behind us now. It’s in the past, and we can’t unring the bell. From this day forward we’re starting over, and we’re on a wide-open road. I’m up for anything that helps us along that road.”
“Me too, Adam. How long do you think I can get by being Jack Piper?”
“As long as you want.” Adam burst out laughing at the look on his brother’s face. Dallas leaned across the seat. “I know you didn’t expect me to say that. God, Dallas, I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Did you collect on my insurance? Merry Christmas, Adam.”
“Yeah. I’m going to have to work on that one. This is going to be the best Christmas we ever had. The best.”
Tom Silk shivered at the shadows in both men’s eyes. He shivered again when he watched the brothers stare at the speck in the sky—a plane like the one that had taken Sara Killian out of their lives.
Chapter Twenty
Adam poured ice tea from the frosty pitcher. Dallas shifted his papers and books to the side of the table before he accepted his glass.
“You seem restless, Dallas. Is anything wrong?”
“I feel like a criminal even though you paid back the insurance company an
d the tour insurance. I don’t even want to know how you managed that. It was nice of you to take half the hit. I appreciate it. I don’t owe anybody anything, monetarily. My life is more or less on track. Tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Summer is here. I don’t think there are any more fish in Lake Moultrie for either of us to catch. Where do we ... I go from here, Adam?”
“Where do you want to go, Dallas? The roads outside this walled garden lead everywhere. The choice is yours. If you want to go back to being Dallas Lord again, I can work out something the media and your fans will buy. It has to be what you want, Dallas. This is just my opinion, but I don’t think you like being Jack Piper, ordinary citizen. Is it Sandi’s trial that is looming on the horizon or is it seeing Sara at the trial that’s bothering you?”
“Let’s face it, Adam, Sandi has been telling everyone I’m alive from the moment they arrested her. If I take back my identity now, it will make you, Tom, and Sara liars before the whole world. No one is sure if the judge will come through or not. His family took him off somewhere, and no one even knows where he is. If he’s a no-show, that leaves the three of you. I can’t do that to you. I’ve been thinking about asking you to call a news conference so I can admit to the whole thing. A lie is a lie, Adam. There was probably a time when that wouldn’t have bothered me. It bothers me now, though. I could go on 60 Minutes or 20/20 and tell it like it is. This has nothing to do with the Canyon River Band, the money, performing, or any of that. I was born Dallas Lord and I want to die as Dallas Lord. I want to be Dallas Lord for whatever happens in between, too. I’m not in a big hurry, but I am thinking about it. What do you think, Adam?”
“I think I’m very proud of you, little brother. Whatever you decide, I’m with you. Is anything else bothering you?”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“Dallas, the tape Sara sent back to you is still on the foyer table. Are you ever going to open it?” Dallas shrugged. “I know where she is. You could call her.”
“Why?”
“If I have to tell you why, there is no point to this discussion.”
“I thought you . . .”
“Dallas, Dr. Sara Killian is a fine person. I asked her out to dinner. I ask a lot of people out to dinner. The two of us put her through a ton of misery. I’ll grant you she’s tough, but she’s fragile, too. She looked so ... sad when she got on that plane. I know she was crying. Tom saw it, too. For some reason I don’t think she was crying because that sorry ordeal was over. I think it had something to do with you. I’m the first to admit I know nothing about women. This is just a guess on my part, but I think you know even less.”
Dallas snorted. The pencil in his hand snapped in two. Adam’s eyebrows shot upward. “How would you like some spaghetti for supper? I make really good spaghetti.”
“Fine.” Making spaghetti meant the discussion was over. “Do you mind if I invite a friend?”
“Great. Male or female?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. Spaghetti sauce splatters. Women don’t like their clothes peppered with little red dots. They dress accordingly.”
“I didn’t know that. Female. Alice Mitchell. She teaches at the College of Charleston.”
Dallas’s sigh could be heard clear across the room. Adam smiled to himself.
“Hey, guys, take a look at this,” Tom Silk said breathlessly. “Second page, top right. Sandi Sims skipped out on her bail. She’s on the run.”
Adam threw the paper down in disgust. Dallas rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised she waited this long. They’ll never catch her. Guess there isn’t going to be a trial.”
“Somebody should call Sara and tell her,” Adam said.
“Somebody should,” Dallas said nonchalantly. “Do you want basil and cilantro or just basil in the sauce?”
“Surprise me,” Adam said.
“Surprises are good,” Dallas said, and chuckled.
Sara reached for the cup of tea at her elbow. She looked around. The screened porch was spartan, with only a small plastic table and a folding aluminum lawn chair. It looked as temporary as it felt.
It was hard to believe it was the end of July. Thirty more days until Sandi Sims’s trial. The upcoming trial had been hanging over her head like a giant black cloud. Sandi’s lawyer was saying it was all circumstantial. She shrugged off the black thoughts as she stared through the screen into the flower-bordered backyard. The days had been warm and sunny, the nights cool and uneventful. Somehow she’d managed to while away seven months by doing nothing. She’d read all the latest books, planted a few tomato plants whose leaves were yellow and whose tomatoes were only as big as green peas. She’d taken long walks, watched the soap operas, talk shows, and game shows until she couldn’t stand it any longer. The thirteen-inch television set that came with the rental house hadn’t been turned on in weeks.
“Sara?”
“Carly. What time is it?”
“Time for us to be heading out of this burg. Tell me again that you aren’t angry with Hank and me for getting married.”
“I’m not angry. I wish you had told me though. I didn’t get to give you something blue or a wedding gift.”
“Just make sure you give us a smashing gift on our first anniversary. I don’t like it here, Sara. There is nothing to do and no place to go. All you do is watch those shitty tomato plants that are dying on the vine. You do know that you aren’t going to get any tomatoes, don’t you?”
“Of course I know that. Three more days, and I’ll be out of here myself. It really is true. You can’t go home again.”
“You got yourself a plum job in New York. You should be very proud of yourself. Two hospitals fighting over you isn’t shabby. Is it really what you want, Sara?”
“For now.”
“That sounds so . . . I don’t know, temporary.”
“I only signed the contract for a year. Where’s Hank?”
“Putting our stuff in the car. What are you going to do today?”
“Take a long walk. I might go all the way to St. Boniface. Then maybe I’ll go up the hill behind our old house. I like to sit at the top and look down at the town.”
Carly dropped to her knees. “The answers you’re looking for aren’t in this town, Sara. They’re all locked up inside of you. You have the key. All you have to do is open the lock. By the way, have you heard from Dallas or Adam?”
“No, and I didn’t expect to hear from them. Besides, Carly, this little town is at the end of the earth. They could never find me here in the Allegheny Mountains. Dallas and Adam are getting on with their lives just the way I am. Nellie calls every couple of days. She’s working at the vet’s office, and she loves it. She told me Adam donated the money for the new wings at Benton. I’m glad about that.”
“I hate to leave you, Sara. You look positively miserable.”
“That’s your imagination. I’ll grant you I am not dewy-eyed the way you are, but I am very contented.” LIAR.
“We’ll write, Sara. Promise you will, too. A telephone call will be nice, too, once you get located. I’ll let you know as soon as we get a nibble on the house. We are doing the right thing, aren’t we? When and if we sell, we can pack it up together. I left all the utilities except the phone turned on.”
Sara sighed. “If you want to change your mind, it’s okay with me. You and Hank can live in it.”
“If we sell it, that means we’re homeless. You’ll be living in some apartment in New York just waiting to get mugged and Hank and I will be in some shitty apartment somewhere trying to save money to build our own house. You can’t put roots down in an apartment. The Killian girls will be homeless and rootless.”
Sara sighed again. “I hear Hank calling you. That man does get impatient.”
“Oh, but I can change that in a heartbeat.” Carly’s voice was trilling. Sara found herself wincing at her sister’s blatant sexual innuendo.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Carly called. “Listen, Sara, do
you know what I would do if I were you? I’d call the Lord brothers to say hello. You know, before you move on to New York. You’ll see them at the trial, but maybe you need to, you know, break the ice a little.”
“You aren’t me and thanks but no thanks. Those two men are not part of my life. When are you going to understand that? My God, they didn’t even send a note to thank me for returning the song.”
“The same time you understand it. Men aren’t letter writers the way women are. I repeat, you look miserable. Give yourself a break. Do something you always wanted to do. Do it for yourself, Sara. Throw caution to the winds and go all out. It’s such a wonderful feeling. If I had to liken it to something, I’d say the feeling is akin to flying.” As she pranced out of the way, Carly offered her parting shot. “In the years to come, I’d hate to have to refer to you as my old maid sister.”
Old maid sister.
“Come on, Sara, walk me to the car. Whose house did you say this was?”
“Dr. Peters, the dentist. Mom used to take us to him when we lived here. I went to school with Jim Peters. We used to call him Putts. Do you remember him?”
“Vaguely.”
“He’s a sports writer in Buffalo, New York. One of the neighbors told me that. Nobody remembered me, Carly.”
“You said it yourself, Sara, you can’t go home again. There are no answers here.”
“I know that now. Have a safe trip. I’ll write as soon as I get settled. I’ll send mail to the house, so you’ll have to pick it up. Bye, Hank, drive carefully.”
Sara stood on the sidewalk and watched the car until it turned off Spangler Street and headed down toward the main street. Her eyes felt hot and gritty.
Homeless and rootless. Old maid sister. Shoulders slumping, Sara headed back into the house and the back porch, where she finished her cold coffee. The tomatoes hadn’t grown at all, and there was a new yellow leaf on the biggest plant. So what, she thought. So what.
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