by Diana Palmer
“You must love him very much, my dear, to care so much about his happiness.”
Dana’s eyes clouded. “I’ll never love anyone else. Not as long as I live. But I can’t marry him, knowing how he really feels.”
Lorraine looked as if she wanted badly to say something else, but she smiled sadly and went back to her needlepoint. There was no use.
Chapter Nine
It didn’t help Dana’s already damaged pride when Gannon called an hour later to tell Lorraine that he and Layn were going to spend the night in Savannah.
“He said Layn’s afraid to drive back with the weather so bad,” Lorraine related irritably. “If you want my opinion, she just wants Gannon all to herself.”
“That’s very likely,” Dana said wearily. “Can you blame her?”
“For more than you know, I can blame her,” the older woman said curtly. “Dirk’s coming in the morning. Perhaps he can make some sense of all this. Heaven knows, I can’t!”
But Dana could. Not that it eased the hurt. It made it worse.
The night was horrible. The thunder and lightning seemed to go on forever, and Dana couldn’t sleep for its crash and roar. The ocean was boiling with the force of the storm, like the one raging inside Dana.
It seemed such a long time since she’d come there from Ashton, full of guilt and grief and despair. And while she was still aching from Gannon’s rejection, she felt that she’d begun to cope very well with her personal problems. The sharp edge of grief was beginning to numb.
She went to stand at the window and watched the lightning flash down toward the water. Death was, after all, as natural as lightning, as the rain. It was the routine progression of things—birth, life, and death; a cycle that everything human had to follow. And somewhere in that natural progression was God’s master plan. Even Mandy had had a part in that, and so did her death and the manner of it. It wasn’t for Dana to question why. It was her part to do as God directed.
She wrapped her arms tightly around her thin nightgown with a ragged sigh. Perhaps her presence here had helped Gannon in some small way to rethink his own life. Even if she lost him forever, she felt that she’d helped him see a sense of purpose and meaning in his existence. And wasn’t that worth a few tears? After all, love in its ideal form was an unselfish thing. If she loved him, she had to want what was best for him, didn’t she?
A silent word to God, seeking His guidance, brought comfort. Resolutely she dried her eyes and went back to bed, and slept peacefully for the first time in days.
Dirk came in the door just as Lorraine and Dana were sitting down to breakfast, and slid into a chair between them to dig hungrily into bacon and eggs and homemade biscuits.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” he chuckled, watching their amused glances. “Where’s Gannon? Sleeping late?”
“He’s in Savannah,” Lorraine said tautly. “He and Layn didn’t drive back last night. She said she was afraid of the weather.”
“That’s a laugh,” Dirk scoffed. “Kidnapped him, did she?”
“Looks like it,” the older woman replied. She glanced at Dana. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him lately; he acts so…strange.”
Dana put down her napkin. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m through, and I do love to walk along the beach early in the morning. The rain’s gone, and it’s so lovely…” she realized that she was rambling, but she tacked on a quick smile and rushed out before anyone could stop her.
She’d only gotten halfway down to the pier before Dirk caught up with her.
“Hold up and I’ll stroll along with you,” he said. “How are things with you and Gannon?”
“Things aren’t,” she said shortly. “I broke the engagement.”
“You what?”
“I had to,” she burst out. “He was hating every second of it. Layn came, and the way he kissed her…Oh, Dirk, he loves her, don’t you know?”
She burst into tears, and he drew her gently into his arms, holding her quietly while she got some of the hurt and pain out of her system.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I can’t seem to stop crying lately.”
“He really is blind if he can’t feel how much you love him,” he growled.
“He knows I love him. He can’t help wanting Layn, can he?” she murmured quietly. She drew away and dabbed at her eyes. “I wish I could go home. Facing my kinfolk now isn’t nearly as anguishing as having to live around Gannon day after day and knowing he wishes I were in some other country.”
“Poor Dana,” he said softly. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
She drew in a steadying breath. “But there isn’t. I’ll just have to wait it out. I can’t leave him, not yet, not until he sends me away.”
“As long as he needs you, is that how this goes?”
She nodded. “As long as he needs me.” She smiled wanly. “I only hope it won’t be much longer. I don’t know if I can bear much more.”
“That makes two of us,” he muttered.
But she had her eyes on the horizon, and her mind was with Gannon. Where was he? Why didn’t he come home?
The day passed slowly, and Dana’s troubled eyes kept going to the driveway. But no car came. By the time the cook was putting supper on the table, Gannon still hadn’t appeared.
When the phone rang, Dana rushed to answer it. Lorraine was still upstairs and Dirk had gone, and there was no one else around.
“Hello?” she said quickly.
“Dana?”
It was Gannon’s deep voice, and her knees felt rubbery. She sat down in the chair beside the table. “Yes. Gannon, are you all right?”
There was a pregnant pause. “Yes,” he said, his voice sounding strained and terse. “As a matter of fact, I have some rather exciting news, Dana. I’ve got my sight back.”
“What!” she exclaimed, sitting up straight.
“We were rushing to get back to the hotel in the rain,” he said quietly, “and I tripped and fell. The blow must have dislodged the shrapnel, because I can see.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks unashamedly. “Oh, Gannon, I’m so happy for you. So happy!”
There was another long pause, and a long, shuddering sigh. “Yes. Well, you do understand what that means?”
All the joy washed away in a torrent of cold understanding. Yes, she understood. She was out of a job. Sighted, he didn’t need her anymore.
She swallowed down another burst of tears. “I understand,” she said on a whisper. “You…you won’t need a nurse now, will you?” she laughed.
“No,” he said tersely. “Dana…about our engagement?”
“What engagement?” she asked bravely. “It’s all right, you don’t have to pull your punches. We agreed already that it was a mistake, that…that I wouldn’t fit into your world, didn’t we? Anyway, Dirk was here…”
His voice was colder than she’d ever heard it before. “Dirk? Well, well, how very convenient. Trying to get his bid in, is he?”
“That’s unfair,” she returned. “Especially when you as much as told me that you didn’t want me anymore!”
There was a long, hot silence on the other end of the line. “Yes, I said that, didn’t I?” he asked, his voice odd and deep.
“It’s just as well. I…I miss my home,” she said after a minute, her lower lip trembling. She controlled it with an effort. “It’s time I went back, made my peace with my people.”
“When did you plan to go?” he asked curtly.
She cleared her throat. “I…I thought…in the morning.”
He sounded relieved. “That would be a good time. I…I plan to stay here with Layn for a few more days.”
Her eyes closed on a pain so sweeping that she thought she might fall to her knees. “Then it will work out…very well for you, won’t it? She’s so lovely.”
There was a harsh, muffled sound. “It isn’t because of the way you look!” he burst out. “Sweet heaven, Dana, I’d give anything to
make you understand!”
“There’s nothing to understand, and you don’t owe me any explanations,” she said quietly, gripping the phone like a lifeline. “I came here as your nurse. You were lonely and maybe a little afraid…. Didn’t I tell you that most male patients make a grab for their nurses? I didn’t take you seriously, of course.”
They both knew it was a lie, but he was going along with the fiction to help save her pride. She hated knowing that.
“I’m glad of that,” he said roughly. There was another pause. “If I can do anything for you, ever…”
“I can take care of myself,” she told him proudly. “But thank you for offering. Shall I tell Lorraine and Dirk…?”
“No!” he said quickly. “No,” he added in a more controlled tone. “I want to surprise them when I get back. Promise me you won’t say a word.”
“As you like,” she agreed dully. “But why shall I say I’m going home?”
“Can’t you invent an emergency?” he asked. “Or is telling a white lie too much for your snowy conscience?”
She swallowed down a hot retort. “I can manage that, I think.”
“Good. Then do so. For all they have to know, this phone call could have been from your people. You don’t have to say it was me, do you?”
“No,” she agreed. “There’s no one around right now. I’ll…I’ll find an excuse to take the first bus out in the morning. Gannon…I’m very happy for you.”
He didn’t reply right away. “I hope things go well for you,” he said finally, heavily. “Be happy, Dana. I’d give anything if…”
“If,” she murmured. “What a sad word.”
“Sadder than you know, little one,” he whispered. “Goodbye, my…Dana.”
“Goodbye, Gannon.”
The line went dead. She put her head in her hands and cried until there were no tears left. It was over, all over. He didn’t want her anymore, and he couldn’t possibly have made it any plainer. He wanted Layn. Beautiful, poised Layn, who was sophisticated and physically perfect.
Dana heard Lorraine coming down the staircase minutes later, and was grateful that she’d had a little time to compose herself. She drew herself erect and tried to look calm.
“Did I hear the phone ring, dear?” Lorraine asked with a smile.
“Yes,” Dana said, thinking fast. “It was my aunt. She’s developed a serious medical problem, and there’s no one but me to look after her. I don’t know what to do…” She let her voice trail off and couldn’t look at the older woman.
“Do? Why, you must go and see about her,” Lorraine said quickly. “I can manage Gannon, with Dirk’s help. We can do without you if we must,” she added gently.
Dana felt dreadful. She’d hated telling the lie, but it was the only way she could think of to do as Gannon had asked. Besides, she thought miserably, when he came back home and Lorraine realized that he could see again, it would all come right anyway. And Aunt Helen did have a serious medical problem, after all—her sharp and unthinking tongue.
“I’d better pack, then. You’ll…explain to Mr. van der Vere when he comes home?” she asked, pausing on the lowest step of the staircase.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that things didn’t work out for the two of you,” came the soft reply. “Layn will never make him happy, Dana. She’s too shallow to give anything of herself. But men are so strange, my dear.”
Dana smiled wistfully. “I have to agree that they seem it sometimes. I hope you’ll keep in touch with me; I’d like to know how Mr. van der Vere does.”
Lorraine frowned slightly. “But surely you’ll be coming back?”
Dana cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m planning to, of course,” she lied calmly. “But one never knows how things will turn out. It could be days or even weeks before I can leave Aunt Helen. And she is my only remaining relative—except for my father.”
“I’ve grown very fond of you, Dana.” Lorraine hugged her gently and kissed her pale cheek. “Don’t worry about Gannon, will you? I’ll take care of him. And there’s every chance that he’ll see through Layn’s wiles eventually. Isn’t there a saying that all things come to he who waits?”
“If he who waits lives long enough, I suppose,” Dana said with an attempt at humor. She drew away with a sigh. “Do let me hear how things go.”
Lorraine nodded. “I certainly will. Give my love to Mrs. Pibbs, will you?”
Dana smiled, remembering her supervisor. With any luck at all, she just might be able to get another job at the hospital. Of course, she’d have to swear Mrs. Pibbs to secrecy, so that she wouldn’t let anything slip about Aunt Helen being in the bloom of good health….
“I will. I suppose I’d better get packed. I’ll want to catch the first bus out in the morning.”
“Gannon may be home tonight,” Lorraine mentioned.
Dana almost assured her that he wouldn’t be, but she bit her tongue. “Yes, he may,” she said instead, and managed a wan smile.
“Don’t you want to eat first?” the older woman asked.
Dana hesitated. But her stomach did feel empty, and starving herself wasn’t going to help the situation. “Yes, I think I will,” she said. She followed Lorraine into the dining room. But she didn’t taste anything she ate.
Chapter Ten
Ashton hadn’t changed in the weeks Dana had been away: it was still slow-moving and provincial and charming. But she thought when she got to the bus depot that she was going to miss the sound of the ocean at night, miss the whitecaps on the beach. Most of all she was going to miss Gannon, and that was going to be the hardest adjustment to make.
She got off the bus, suitcase in hand, and called Jenny. Luckily she was at the apartment and not working.
“You’re back!” her friend exclaimed. “Am I glad! My other roommate got sick of picking up after me and moved out, and I’m so lonely—and there’s a job available if you hurry! Mrs. Pibbs would give it to you; I know she would!”
Dana smiled gaily. Everything was working out fine; the path was being smoothed ahead of her. For the first time in two days she felt a ray of hope for her life.
Mrs. Pibbs was waiting for her in the spotless office, looking puzzled but pleased.
“All right, Nurse, let’s start at the beginning, if you please,” she said curtly, leaning back in her chair to listen.
It was useless to put on a front with Mrs. Pibbs, who had a mind like a net. With a sigh Dana told her the whole wretched story, leaving out nothing.
“So I made up the fiction of Aunt Helen needing me and came home,” she said quietly, avoiding the other woman’s probing eyes.
“Are you certain that he was telling you the truth?” the supervisor asked shrewdly.
“Why should he lie?” Dana asked reasonably. “At any rate he wanted to be rid of me and the fiction of our engagement, and now he is. And there’s Miss Dalmont….”
Whatever Mrs. Pibbs was thinking, she obviously decided to keep to herself. She leaned forward. “Very well, when I speak with Lorraine, I won’t blow your cover. But in fact your Aunt Helen could use some support right now. She’s grieving over what she said to you before you left Ashton. I think she’d be grateful for the opportunity to see you and apologize.”
Dana smiled. “I’d like to see her, too. I’ve had a lot of time to think since I’ve been away. I think I’ve come to grips with it all now.”
Mrs. Pibbs lifted her eyebrows. “God’s will?”
The younger woman nodded. “God’s will. I won’t question it anymore.”
“Just as well too. Now, here’s the job that’s open. It’s only night supervisor on the east wing, but you’ll make a go of it, I’m sure. You have only to readjust to the new schedule, or have you been keeping late nights anyway?”
“Mr. van der Vere liked to talk into the early hours,” Dana confessed. “I’ve been staying up relatively late, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to get used to the eleven-to-seven shift again.”
“G
ood girl. And Jenny tells me she’s without a roommate,” she added, glancing at Dana’s suitcase on the floor beside her chair.
“Yes, ma’am,” Dana laughed. She got to her feet. “With your permission I’ll dash over and stow my luggage. Do I start tonight?”
“With my blessing.” Mrs. Pibbs actually smiled. “Welcome home, Dana.”
“Thank you,” she replied earnestly.
Dana unpacked, having barely enough time to say hello and goodbye to Jenny, who went on duty minutes later. Then, when she’d rested for a few minutes, she resolutely lifted the receiver of the phone and dialed Aunt Helen’s number.
It rang five times before it was picked up, and Dana had almost given up when she heard her aunt’s honeyed tones on the other end of the line.
“Aunt Helen?” she asked hesitantly.
“Dana! Dana, is it you? Oh, my dear, I’ve been sick to death about what I said to you…. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course I can, you were hurting just as much as I was,” Dana said on a sigh. It was such a blessed relief to have things patched up again. “How are you?”
“Can you come over?” Aunt Helen asked, ignoring the question. “I’ll make a pot of coffee and we’ll talk, all right?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she replied.
It took fifteen, by the time she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, but her aunt lived only about two blocks from the apartment.
Helen’s house was an old, rambling white frame Victorian, with a long front porch where white rocking chairs and an equally white porch swing invited visitors to sit among the potted flowers that lined the entire porch. Helen came rushing out, still wearing her apron, and grabbed Dana in a crushing embrace. She was crying, and Dana cried too.
Helen dabbed at her eyes through a smile and handed Dana a tissue.
“Silly women,” she muttered. “Want to have our coffee out here?”
“I’d love it,” Dana replied. “Can I help?”
“No, the tray’s all fixed. My best silver, too, I want you to know.”
