by Amy Miles
As Timothy stares back at him, Draven realizes that Timothy’s feelings go beyond mere infatuation. He finds himself smiling, the first genuine smile he’s had in two weeks. “You’re a good man, Timothy Lewis. I’m glad she has you in her life. I doubt she would have fared so well without your support.”
Timothy swallows again. “And yours.”
Draven nods in agreement. “I really enjoyed working with her. I felt like…like I was accomplishing something. I only wish that I could have helped her heal.”
“You did.” Timothy smiles for the first time since he arrived. His body eases out of his tense pose. He shifts his weight and his shoulders slump just enough to not look so rigid. “That’s what I came here to tell you. Hannah moved her foot yesterday.”
“She did?” Draven takes an involuntary step forward. He enters Timothy’s personal space in his excitement. “What happened after that? Was she able to feel anything? Did she move again? Was she able to stand? Art must have been thrilled.”
Timothy laughs. “Hannah was right about you.”
He tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“You really are passionate about your work.”
Draven shrugs. “It made me feel good to help her.”
Nodding in understanding, Timothy turns as if to leave. He pauses with his hand on the door. “Hannah will be released any day now. We are hoping it will be on Christmas. I know she would love for you to join us for dinner. Claire and Andrew are planning a little family get together.”
Draven rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, I uh…I don’t know if that would be right. Not after bailing on her like I did.”
“Do you honestly think Hannah would ever blame you for that?”
He pauses before he answers, snorting as he shakes his head. “She could never hold a grudge.”
“Exactly. The invitation stands if you are willing. I know it will make her very happy to see you. Drop by their house around seven on Christmas evening if you can.”
Draven sees Timothy out and watches at the window as the man backs his work truck out of the driveway and turns left. Probably heading toward the hospital.
He hears someone clear their throat behind him and turns to see Martha standing in the doorway. “Were you listening?”
She nods. “Long enough to figure out who that man is.”
“He is Hannah’s friend.”
Martha steps forward. Draven is confused by the worry lines that are carved deeply into the corners of her eyes. She glances toward the stairs before speaking in a soft tone. “You haven’t put it together yet, have you?”
“What are you talking about?”
She motions for him to lower his voice. He steps closer. “You called that man Timothy Lewis, right?”
“Sure. That’s his name.”
Martha leans in close. “Have you forgotten what happened a year ago today?”
How could he? Hasn’t he been counting down the days to this horrid anniversary for the past few months? “Of course I remember.”
Kevin worked very hard to cover up the accident that changed Draven’s life forever. Not in nearly as impactful a way as it would have been if he had been caught and charged with drunk driving. The accident was deemed just that, an accident. Kevin took the blame upon himself for driving late that night. With the weather conditions as poor as they had been and Kevin’s late nights spent on rotation at the hospital, no one questioned further. As a man of high reputation in the community, his word and a good deal of acting was enough.
Draven was sent home and told to wait long before the police arrived on the scene. He did and waited for several endless hours as the pain from his injuries really began to set in. When Kevin finally returned home, he never spoke a word about the accident to Draven. It was done, dusted under the rug. No inquiry. No conviction. It was chocked up to icy roads. An unfortunate act of God.
Kevin fixed up Draven’s wounds in the privacy of his own den. He told his stepson to lay low for a few days and for the first time, Draven actually listened.
He’d been shocked at how quickly it was all forgotten. Life moved on. People celebrated Christmas with the same cheer as always while he stood on the sidelines, each day dying a little more inside.
“How do you know about that?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She places a hand on his arm. “Do you remember the woman’s name?”
Draven frowns. Isn’t that a detail he should have remembered? He can picture seeing her trapped in the car, see the blood that dripped from her fingers. When he closes his eyes, he can smell the rubber from the tire skids as if it had just happened, but this detail escapes him. Kevin made sure to keep all local papers and news as far from him as possible. Draven knows that he was trying to be helpful but after a year of wallowing in guilt, he knows the best thing would have been to fess up to the crime. Then at least he could have lived with himself.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know that I ever heard her name.”
Martha sighs and looks toward the front door. “Her name was Abigail Lewis, and she was the wife of the man who just walked out your front door.”
TWENTY
Christmas Tidings
The scent of freedom has never been so sweet as Timothy pushes Hannah through the front doors of the Outer Banks hospital. After Timothy watches Hannah’s tearful goodbye with the hospital staff, he slings her bag over his shoulder and wheels her down the hall for the final time. She always thought the idea of riding off into the sunset at the end of westerns was a silly way to end a movie, but as he pushes her out into the beautiful twilight sky, she knows that it’s the perfect way to say farewell to a journey.
Her months spent in the hospital have taught her at lot, not only about herself but about people in general. Adversity does not have to define who you are, nor does it control you. A positive attitude, prayer, and friendship can help someone overcome anything. No matter how dire or bleak some days may have seemed, each one was worth waking up for.
“Thank you,” she says breathlessly as the bitterly cold winds whip her hair into a tangled mess about her face. The coat he brought for her is snug around her chest but delightfully warm. “There is no better gift for Christmas than this.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiles as he sets the wheel brakes and comes around to face her. She automatically lifts her arms and waits for him to pick her up, but instead he kneels before her. “That’s not all that I got for you, though.”
“Oh?” She scrunches up her nose. “I didn’t have a chance to get you anything.”
“There’s absolutely nothing more I want than this.” He holds up a finger for her to wait and he shoves the key in the lock and leans inside. She wraps her arms around herself for warmth but doesn’t complain. Whatever this is means a great deal to Timothy and she’s not going to spoil it.
“So this is actually a three part gift,” he says. Red tints his nose and ears but she can’t tell if it’s from the cold or something more. She thinks she can see some deeper emotion lurking in his eyes. “I didn’t exactly have time to get these wrapped, though…”
She grins and holds out her hand. “Don’t you dare start apologizing and force me to wait any longer.”
Timothy grins. “Ok. Close your eyes.”
She follows his instructions, only opening her eyes when she feels pressure on her thighs. I can feel it, she inwardly crows as she lowers her gaze and bursts out laughing.
“Work boots? I do own normal shoes you know.”
He nods. “Sure, but these are special.”
“Yeah?” She raises an eyebrow with curiosity. “How so?”
“Well,” he dips down in front of her again, “these shoes are meant to be worn by someone who has an annoyingly stubborn need to help people. Folks around these parts are in sore need of people with big hearts. I figure here soon they’ll be needing a little extra help, and you seem like the perfect person for the job.”
Tears dampen her lower lashe
s as she closes her hands over the top of the boots. “I figured you’d tell me to stay clear of danger for a while.”
“Ah.” He holds up his finger again and reaches into the truck bed. “That’s where gift number two comes in.”
Giggles erupt from Hannah’s lips as Timothy reveals a white hard hat and plunks it down on top of her head. “Thought this might come in handy too for the next time you decide to dive into an unstable building.”
Hannah reaches up for Timothy. He scoops her into his arms, but when he tries to place her into her seat, she pulls back on his neck. He hesitates, appearing unsure. “You ok?”
“Yes,” she smiles, and tightens her grip around his neck. She leans in close, near enough to smell the hint of coffee that lingers around him. Even on an off day, Timothy still makes a flask of coffee to take with him in the truck. On occasion, he has brought it in with him during his visits, claiming the cafeteria staff just don’t make it right. She’s always loved that smell, especially now that she can associate it with him. “I just wanted to thank you.”
Before he can react, Hannah leans in and places a kiss on his cheek. He flinches and she realizes that she landed dangerously near his lips. His fingers tighten against her back as he falls perfectly still.
The stubble along his chin is softer than she imagined it to be. The warmth of his skin and the heady musk of his aftershave make her pause long enough for him to remain tense. When she finally pulls back, she can see the effect her gratitude has had on him. He stares deep into her eyes, silently holding her, ignoring the winds that tug at them and whip around the end of the car. She can see longing and need, but also hesitation.
She can see pain. A pain that he has yet to fully explain to her. She wishes that he would open up to her, but knows that someday he will, in his own time. Losing a loved one must be devastating. She can’t imagine what this past year has been like for him.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what?”
A sweet smile forms along his full lips and it steals her breath away. “For thanking me.”
Hannah laughs and willingly allows him to place her in the truck. As he closes the door, she realizes for the first time just how cold it was outside. He takes care to return the wheelchair to the front door and then returns, tucking her bag safely in the backseat. With seatbelts on and the heat slowly starting to pump through the vents, Timothy gives Hannah a tour of the town, allowing her to fully enjoy her first moments of freedom.
Although the sun has set, Hannah thrills at the sight of so many Christmas lights. It seems like many people have gone to extra effort this year to string up lights just to bring a bit of cheer to the area. Many of the darkened homes they pass are still in sore need of repair. Others are nothing more than broken boards and rubble. Her heart goes out to the families who have lost so much.
Timothy was right. There are still so many hurting people here, she thinks as she glances down at the work boots and hard hat sitting in her lap. There’s so much that I could do to help here.
The ride to Andrew and Claire’s home passes in silence, though the Christmas songs filtering in from the truck’s radio make a pleasant background noise. Hannah hums along to several of the songs.
Less than two blocks from the bed and breakfast, she breaks the silence. “You never told me what my third gift is.”
“No?” He turns the wheel; the steady sound of the turn signal is loud in the absence of his explanation. Hannah braces as they make a sharp turn and bounce into the driveway.
Timothy turns off the truck and unlatches his seatbelt but makes no effort to move. “I thought it might be easier to just show you the third gift.”
Hannah turns to follow his gaze. Her breath catches as she spies a sleek black car in the drive, parked beside Andrew’s old truck. A lone figure stands in the dark, waiting.
“Draven,” she whispers.
Timothy reaches out and clasps her hand. “I’ll be inside when you are ready.”
She pulls her gaze away from Draven. “You’re not staying?”
“Nah. You two have some catching up to do.”
Hannah watches as Timothy grabs her bag and closes the door behind him, leaving her in the dark. He speaks to Draven briefly, glances back at her once, and then goes inside.
Draven saunters up to the car and opens the driver’s side door. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She grins. “I’d say the same for you, but I think that I have been set up.”
His smile brings tears to her eyes. She can’t stop them from falling. It’s just too good to see him again. She wishes that he had been there with her when her foot moved, or when she managed to bend her leg without assistance for the first time. He would have been so proud.
When he notices her tears, he reaches out and brushes them aside. “I’m sorry for bailing on you. It was wrong of me to do that. I know you depended on me, and I pretty much failed you.”
“No!” She cries and clings to his hand. “I never felt like you had failed me. I was just worried about you. I tried calling…”
“I know.” He lowers his head. In the dark, his hair looks nearly black. “I wasn’t…I didn’t have my head screwed on right. I’m sorry for that.”
Hannah nibbles on her bottom lip. “Would you like to talk about it?”
His shoulders rise and fall, as if a great weight has been placed there, crushing him. “How much do you know about Timothy’s wife?”
She frowns, surprised by the change in topic. “Not much. Only bits and pieces that he’s mentioned. It’s pretty painful for him to talk about.”
Draven turns away. “It was my fault.”
“What?”
He looks at her and she is rocked by the depth of despair she sees in his eyes. “I was the one driving the car that killed her.”
Hannah’s mouth hangs open. She tries to close it, to not look as shocked as she feels, but she can’t. It’s too much to take in at once. Draven brushes his hair back from his eyes and for the first time Hannah realizes just how rough he looks. She has never seen him completely unshaven, unkempt. He looks like a complete mess.
She glances toward the glow of the house. The multi-colored Christmas lights twinkle brightly along the roof. The front of the house appears to have been completely restored. Lights wrap around the new railing and bannister that winds around the house and out to the back, disappearing into the night. A new stairwell leads up to the main floor from the driveway. The glass front door reveals an enormous spruce tree all lit up and inviting, but she turns away from it.
“Does Timothy know?”
“No.”
She blows out a long, slow breath. “Why not?”
Draven begins his story, not pausing until he reaches the conversation with his housekeeper in which Draven finally discovered Timothy’s identity. “It’s a small town,” he snorts, shaking his head. “You would have thought I could put two and two together, but my head hasn’t been right a long time. I’ve been messed up ever since that night, looking for distractions in all the wrong places. I thought in time that I could move on, but I can’t. I can’t let go of this guilt, of knowing that I’m the reason she’s gone. And now knowing that she was Timothy’s wife…” his voice cracks as tears spill from his eyes.
Hannah reaches out and touches his arm. “It’s ok, Draven. None of us are perfect. Sometimes we do terrible things, things we wish we could do over, but we can’t. That’s not how life works.”
“I know.” Draven wipes his nose as he appears to fight to regain control of himself. “I came tonight to see you, but I know that I need to speak with Timothy too.”
Hannah waits in silence as he grabs an unused tissue from his pocket. She can tell how painful this is for him. She can’t even begin to imagine what it will be like when he confesses this story to Timothy. Her heart breaks for both of them, but in different ways.
“Do you want me to be with you with you speak to him?”
“Would y
ou mind?”
She smiles and squeezes her friend’s hand. “Of course not.”
As Draven comes around to her side of the truck, she lifts her prayers heavenward, hoping they get counted in time before the heartbreak begins. Christmas is meant to be a time of joy and celebration, but Hannah has a sneaking suspicion that the best gift of all this year won’t come from beneath a beautifully decorated tree, but from a broken and repentant heart.
Lord, I know things happen for a reason. Sometimes they are unbearably hard to swallow and usually come with a heavy dose of pain, but you always bring good from bad times. You brought Draven and Timothy into my life and I couldn’t be more grateful for each of them.
I pray that you will bring healing to these men. Help them to realize that though each played their parts, neither were alone in their grief. Help them to bond through their trials. I ask for help in their healing and in forgiveness, both given and received. I know this won’t be easy for either of them, but I know You will be with them, and in the end I know they will find peace in Your embrace.
EPILOGUE
A New Day
Hannah lifts her face to the sun, savoring the warmth that spring has brought with it. Flowers have begun to bloom again. The sea is frothy and wild today, just how she likes it. The wind lifts her hair off her bare shoulders and unsettles her white summer dress. It is a warm day, perfect for a picnic.
“You look happy,” Timothy whispers into her ear.
She opens her eyes and stares at him, admiring for the thousandth time the well-defined planes of his face. Up close, his eyes boast flecks of gold that can’t be seen from a distance. His nose isn’t perfectly straight, his right eyebrow is slightly bushier than the left, and his hands are deeply calloused but in her eyes, he’s perfect.
“I am happy,” she says, and leans forward to kiss Timothy on the nose. She laughs as he winces and pulls back. “I think someone forgot to put on sunscreen.”
He releases his hold on her waist and leans back, balancing her atop his legs, and gently rubs his nose. “One of these days I will learn that you are right.”
