The Rescuer

by Dee Henderson

  “And miss out on seeing your expression when you heard the news?” Marcus opened the ketchup for his French fries. “I also figured I could talk you into showing me a good fishing spot so I could get a day out on the water before I fly back. I’ve seen those recent pictures you sent Jack.”

  “I can provide a great couple hours of fishing,” Stephen promised, pleased to hear Marcus would be able to stay.

  Marcus’s smile turned serious as he started his meal. “This is me asking, not Kate: Did you get through Christmas okay?”

  Stephen thought about it and shrugged. “The day passed. It was sadder than the day Jennifer died and so incredibly long. Every time I thought about past Christmases, she was always center in the memories. You?”

  “Shari and I spent it with her family in Virginia, and I tried not to slow down long enough to think.”

  Stephen hesitated, then said quietly, “I went to church the

  Sunday after Christmas and sang a few songs. It seemed the thing to do.”

  Marcus looked over at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Thanks, it means a lot. And Jennifer would have really appreciated it too.” Marcus picked up his sandwich. “I saw Meghan the other day. She asked about you.”

  “Is she doing okay?”

  “She seems to be. She mentioned that Ken was teaching her to ski.”

  Stephen tore off a chunk of bread. “That’s a nice way to break her neck.”

  “I told her that. She laughed and said when she could see she inevitably closed her eyes, so it wasn’t much different.”

  “She mentioned at Christmas that she was buying a house.”

  “She’s moved in. Kate saw the house and said it’s wonderful. It’s been good for Kate to have Meghan back in her life.”

  “Meg’s a good friend to have.”

  “I wish you had gotten serious about her years ago. I like her.”

  “A few months ago you were hoping Ann and her boys would be the right fit.”

  “Ann’s a great lady and her boys are priceless, but you dated her and settling down didn’t cross your mind, which rather disappointed me as well as Jennifer,” Marcus remarked. “You were restless then and you’re still restless.”

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for, Marcus. If I knew, I would have already found it.” Stephen picked up his glass. “Ann seems pretty content the last couple times we’ve talked. I heard Gage was over at her place for Christmas, helping her boys with their new bikes.” As surprised as he was at Gage’s involvement, he knew it was a good development. Gage had lost his wife and son in a fire. For him to have found peace enough to spend time with Ann and her boys—Stephen knew his sister Rachel would be relieved at that turn of events. And surprisingly he thought it would be a good fit for both Ann and Gage.

  “True enough.” Marcus twirled ice in his water glass. “I’d like you to come home.”

  “I’ll be there if I’m needed, you know that.”

  “That’s the other reason I’m here. You’re needed. Kate is worried about you, and that I would like to end.”

  Stephen winced. “I don’t know that I ever planned to be gone this long. I’m sorry if it caused you problems.”

  Marcus shrugged. “It gives me something to do.”

  “I’ll head home after I finish up a roofing job here.”

  “Thanks, Stephen.” Marcus took a drink of his soda.

  “Think I’ll get a homecoming party?”

  Marcus laughed. “With Jack around? You’ll be lucky not to get a parade.”

  “So maybe I shouldn’t advertise my return date…”

  “You can try, but you’ll never surprise him.” Marcus finished his meal and tugged out his wallet to leave the tip. “Come on; let’s get me a place to crash and plan to meet for an early morning of fishing.”

  They returned to the motel. Stephen saw his brother settled in a room near his, then said good-night.

  He tossed his keys on the table in his room and looked around. He dug out his suitcase from the bottom of the closet and began to pack. It would take a couple weeks to finish the roofing job and sell the boat, but it was time.

  He was going to be an uncle. Stephen couldn’t hold back a smile. That was enough of a mission for the near future. He would go back to Chicago, rejoin his family, and spend the next couple years spoiling the next generation of O’Malleys. It felt like the right decision. For all the things Chicago lacked—good or bad—it was the place he thought of as home. He would be an exceptionally good uncle.

  Eleven

  Stephen drove north into Illinois the morning of February 15, the sun bright in his eyes and his sunglasses a welcome shield. Snow remained on the roadsides and in patches beneath trees where the sun couldn’t reach. Fields lay dormant for the winter, the ground covered with rows of short brown stalks from corn harvests the fall before. He had left the state in the heat of summer and was returning with the merest hint of pending spring.

  He slipped in the fourth tape Meghan had made, enjoying the sound of her voice introducing the songs. Occasionally he heard JoAnne on the tapes, laughing with Meghan in the background as the two of them selected songs.

  No one knew he was coming today. It was a good tactical decision. He would open up his apartment, unload his groceries, do some laundry, then go make peace with Kate. Of all of his family, Kate was the one who read him best, who knew how close he was to not coming back.

  He glanced at the huge rabbit in the passenger seat kept upright by a seat belt. It would get a laugh. Kate would probably hug him then playfully hit him, but it would at least break the ice.

  Lisa and her husband Quinn were in Montana; Marcus was in Washington; Rachel—he wasn’t sure where she was. The last he heard she was traveling in Georgia for the Red Cross. That left Jack as the only other O’Malley in Chicago, and finding him would only require a stop at the fire station. The time would let Stephen ease back into the flow with family.

  And after that?

  Stephen chewed on a toothpick. Two of his remodeled homes were nearing their closing dates to the couples currently renting them. He’d have to make a decision about what property to roll the income into next. The realtor had three properties she thought he might like to look at. It would do for a short-term answer.

  A semi loaded with new cars rolled past. Stephen picked up the map. He would be home today. But before he got there, he had one stop to make.

  SILVERTON

  Meghan scrubbed the skillet and the two pans she had used as she hummed along to the song on the radio. The kitchen was filled with the smell of baked lasagna and bubbling cheese. Dinner in exchange for Ken’s help was a good deal. By nightfall her new home would be graced with a piano. Drying her hands, Meghan stopped to touch the timer and listen to the countdown. Five more minutes. She didn’t want the lasagna to bake completely, so she could finish it when Ken and JoAnne arrived.

  She ran a hand along the edge of the counter and walked from the kitchen into the living room. This was her home. After years of dreaming, it was now reality. Her things were on the counters, in the cupboards, placed so she would know exactly where they were. The darkness was replaced with a certain knowledge of the rooms and where she had left items.

  The spot on the wall for the upright piano was cleared. She sized up the opening again and took a step back to mark how far out the bench would come. She would still have three steps before she touched the side of the couch. Yes, this would work.

  Furniture was always a hard thing to figure out. A few inches one way or the other and she would find herself either brushing into things or losing her exact sense of position in the room. The more cues to give her perspective in a room the better.

  She hated the reality of the darkness she now lived in and always walking forward on trust for what was ahead of her. No one who had a fear of falling could survive being blind. This home would be her sanctuary. She curled her bare toes into the warm carpet, able to tell the line in the room the sun had re
ached by the change in temperature. JoAnne said this room was white, bright, and lovely. Meghan loved that description.

  Neil Coffer had blessed her by offering her the piano his wife had played for years. Live music would soon fill this house. Not very good music at first, but she made herself a long-term promise to learn to play.

  Neil’s wife had died this past September, succumbing to weakness in her lungs after a lingering case of pneumonia. Neil had been relieved his wife never reached the point that she needed to be placed in a nursing home. Her death was peaceful, and that was helping Neil cope with it more than anything else.

  Over the past months Neil began slowly giving away things his wife valued. It mattered to him that her piano be used, and Meghan had heard relief in his voice when she accepted his offer. Music was one of the few things his wife held on to until her death, and the piano was special.

  Meghan touched her watch and listened to the spoken time. There was time to stop by the bank before she went back to work. She was going to do a round of home follow-ups with Ashley this afternoon, then make a point of stopping by the jewelry store to see Neil.

  She opened the front door. “Blackie, are you ready to go?” He wasn’t at the front door waiting to come back in, which was a bit of a surprise as he had a habit of begging whenever she cooked.

  “Hello, Meghan.”

  Her hand tightened on the doorknob. “Stephen!” She leaned against the doorjamb and just let the pleasure of his presence settle inside. He was back. She knew this day was coming, but now that it was here… She laughed. “Where are you?”

  She heard the sound of a jacket as he twisted. “Seated on the bottom step of your porch saying hello to your dog.”

  She moved that direction, putting out her hand and getting the reassuring grip of his closing around hers. His hand was harder, stronger, and bigger than she remembered. Her memory had dulled with the passing of time. “Are you coming or going from Chicago?” she asked, wondering what else her memories had softened or forgotten about this man.

  “I’m moseying that direction. I figured I would return via the same path I left.”

  He drew her down to sit on the step beside him. He had been only a voice at the end of a phone line for months, and now he was in the flesh and his presence had substance. She was aware of his broad shoulders as she shared the step.

  Blackie pushed against her free hand, wiggling in between the two of them to share the joy. Stephen laughed. “You’re speechless.”

  She smiled. “You didn’t mention you were coming here.”

  “And miss this moment?” His shoulder leaned against hers. “It’s great to see you, Meg.”

  She tried to remember what she was wearing, hoping she hadn’t spilled lasagna fixings while making lunch, wishing like crazy that she’d at least had enough warning to brush her hair. “You’ll have to take what you get then, because for the life of me, I don’t know what I look like at the moment.” He still held her hand. She suddenly realized she was sitting outside in February, and though there wasn’t snow on the steps, it was still too close to winter. “And it’s cold out here.”

  “You look as beautiful as ever, and the cold…I can help with that. I brought you something.” He released her hand and turned away. “Here you go. I’ll put it on your lap.”

  “You brought me a jacket?”

  “Sheep’s wool inside and a nice golden brown leather on the outside.”

  She stroked the coat, finding the pockets and then the collar. “It’s so soft.”

  “I thought of you as soon as I saw it.”

  He took it and helped her put it on.

  “Oh my.” It was like slipping into a heated blanket.

  Stephen turned up the collar. “It’s a popular jacket in North Dakota for a reason. It gets really cold there.”

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  “I know.” She heard the smile in his voice. “I wanted to. There are matching gloves.”

  She slipped them on and they were a perfect fit. “Thank you, Stephen.” She leaned over and hugged him hard, not only for the gift, but also for buying her mittens when he was fourteen. Hugging him hadn’t been okay back then; she would have embarrassed him.

  He rubbed her back. “You’re very welcome. Ninety hours ago I was walking around in shirtsleeves in seventy-degree weather. I’ve been frozen since I crossed into the state. I’m remembering fast one of the reasons I left.”

  She laughed, hearing the old Stephen in his words and the tough edge of his humor. “Then why are we sitting out here?”

  “The gift doesn’t mean as much inside.”

  She looked around, feeling the slight breeze and the cold on her face. “We might be able to find enough snow to have a really brief snowball fight if you like, just to give you a taste of the winter you missed.”

  “Me? Toss a snowball at a blind lady?”

  She shoved him off the step.

  “On second thought…” She heard him sit back up. “I missed you, Meg.”

  “Someone has been pampering you while you were gone.”

  “I gained a few pounds from the pies, cakes, and cookies offered. Speaking of which, something smells good.”

  “Dinner!” Meghan surged to her feet.

  She yanked open the door and rushed through the house into the kitchen. She shut the oven off, then cracked the oven door to let the heat dissipate more quickly. Slipping off the jacket, she draped it over a chair, put the gloves on the table, and went to grab the hot pads.

  “Everything okay?”

  She set the hot dish down and closed the oven, aware her cheeks were flushed from the heat. “Ken and JoAnne are coming for dinner tonight. I thought I’d only partially bake it now, but it definitely smells done. Did the cheese overcook?”

  “A nice golden brown on the edges. It will warm okay.”

  “Good. Thank you. You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you like. As you can see, there’s plenty.” Blackie nudged her left knee, letting her know he had joined her. She held down her hand and stroked his fur. He offered more than just comfort, he was warm, furry, and affectionate.

  “I’d enjoy dinner, Meg, but I’d best take a rain check. I need to be back in Chicago in time to see Kate tonight. I hear she turns in early these days.”

  Her smile softened. “I hear that too. Pregnancy was a huge change to her system the first few months, and she’s had it pretty rough. It will be good for her to have you home.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing her. I’m going to love being an uncle.” She heard the floorboard creak as he moved away. “I like your new home.”

  She slipped her hands into her pockets, wishing she knew what he looked like after months away. Her memories were a mix of days of a teenage crush and from five years ago when he was a paramedic. His voice was different now… older maybe, though it was much more than that. “Speaking of which, how did you find my house?”

  “I stopped by and saw your father at the clinic and he gave me directions. Would you give me a tour of your new house? Maybe take a walk and show me your town? I can linger a couple hours before I need to head to the city.”

  If he could give her a couple hours, she would take it. “Let me call the office and tell them I won’t be in for a while.”

  “Already done. Ashley said she could handle the two urgent follow-up visits and move the others to tomorrow.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, surprised that he’d made the arrangements for her.

  “You could also tell me to come back another day. We’ve been friends long enough I could probably take it.”

  She moved toward his voice, making a calculated guess where he was standing so she could invade his space but not run into him. She heard his half step back as she reached him, indicating she had guessed it right. She smiled privately as she lifted her hand to touch his jacket. Worn leather, aged, and comfortable to her touch. She had a feeling it was the same jacket she’d often tossed in the back of her car after
he left it in the hospital employee lounge.

  She wanted to grip it and hold on to that fleeting vivid flashback so she could see it. The memory shook her and her words didn’t have the sassy fun tone she had planned but huskiness. “A brief tour of the house, and then we take a walk,” she offered. “I’ve got one errand I need to do before I take the rest of the day off.”

  His hands settled on her shoulders. “Deal.” He squeezed lightly then stepped back. She heard him pick up the jacket he had given her and the gloves. “You once called this your dream house. Why?”

  She nodded toward the living room and he moved that direction. She followed him. “When I was in high school, I used to babysit for the people who lived here. I fell in love with the big bay windows and the sunlight in this room. They had a rocking chair…right here, and the sun during the summer months made it a cozy place to sit. When Jessie fussed I’d rock her in the chair and she’d always fall asleep. It was my chair, you know? My place. And I’d sit here rocking her, looking around the room, and think this place was so peaceful, the perfect home.”

  “Making it a dream.”

  She nodded. “I had it all planned when I was sixteen: married, kids, working for my dad, and living in this house.” She thought of that dream, still wistful about how simple it was in those days, and turned to smile his direction. “I’ll find the perfect rocking chair soon.”

  “What goes there on the east wall?”

  Her joy fed her smile. “Ken is bringing my piano tonight.”

  “I didn’t know you played.”

  “I’m taking piano lessons. Mrs. Teal sees me as a creative challenge. She’s a great teacher. A few of her students have gone on to great things—Theresa is working in Hollywood composing original music for movies, and Jonathan is now in Europe playing with the London symphony and recording. I have a small goal, but the church needs a pianist next winter when the Carlsons go to Florida, and I want to know a few songs well enough to be able to play some Sundays.”

  “You will make a really good pianist; I already know it.”