“I bought it for you, at the store downtown.”
He helped her thread her arms inside, the softness of the fuzzy lining like putting on a stuffed animal. Once it was over her shoulders, she wrapped it around her body and hugged it close. The material was a brushed fiber, a wool blend, she guessed. It stretched all the way to her knees, a long, fancy coat like ladies wore out in the evenings. It had to have been expensive, more than her uncle could afford, but she was grateful for the way it covered her skin.
“Here, lift your foot.” He helped her into soft, backless slippers, something else he must have gotten, for they were plusher than her old ones, cushioned under the soles of her feet. Somewhat dressed, she took her uncle’s arm, and together they walked out of the room and down the hall.
The air was dry, as if the heaters had sapped every bit of moisture out of it. She longed for water, but the glow from the overhead lights was a welcome one, and though the sounds and smells of the hospital were strange and cold in their antiseptic, sterile nature, Loreena walked confidently forward with her hand on her uncle’s arm. The fact that he was there, beside her, was like the realization of a dream, and with every step she whispered a grateful prayer that she had made it back to see him again. They walked only ten steps before Uncle Don slowed and they entered another room on the right. Loreena sensed the glow of the sun through the window in the distance, lively voices laughing from across the room. Another patient, another family.
“Hey.”
“Dominic?”
“Alive and well.” His voice sounded tired, but fuller, more like the voice she remembered.
She hurried forward, her uncle following. The other family quieted down, speaking in lower tones. Hands out, Loreena walked until she touched the railing on Dominic’s bed. “Are you okay?”
He sat up. “I’m fine. How are you?”
Uncle Don came up behind her and helped Dominic with his pillows, and then excused himself to get a cup of coffee. Loreena took a couple steps after him, a sudden sense of panic gripping her chest.
“It’s okay,” Dominic said. “He’ll be back.”
She paused, one hand on the mattress, waiting for the feeling to pass. Her uncle’s name lay trapped in her throat, but she managed to keep from calling it out.
“There’s a chair there, if you’d like,” Dominic said. “Not the most comfortable, from what I can tell, but better than standing, maybe?”
Loreena found it, a wide chair with wooden armrests and a cloth-covered cushion that was stiff and fat. Sitting down, she took up only half of the space.
“Luxury accommodations, aren’t they?” Dominic said. “At least compared to where we’ve been.”
She nodded and tried again to center herself in the chair. Why did she feel awkward now? After what they’d shared in the cabin, she had imagined an intimate reunion, but it was different somehow, sitting there dressed in the new coat her uncle had given her, her feet naked in the slippers, Dominic in the hospital bed, recovered, emanating some of the lively energy he’d had that first day in the church.
“I’m really glad you came back,” he said.
It took her a minute to figure out what he was talking about. “Oh.” Back from Frank’s world. Back to this one. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to—”
“No.” He stopped her. “I get it. You had the chance. It was the only way. I was just afraid you would go and never return. I called, but I don’t think you could hear me.”
“Not until the end.” Her thoughts strayed to the purple dress and the mirror and her disheveled appearance. Suddenly self-conscious, she touched her hair, and was relieved to find it had been combed.
“Was it…horrible?”
Loreena pulled the collar of her coat against her cheek. “Frank got what he deserved.”
Dominic said nothing.
“Are you really okay?”
“Doc says I’m going to be fine.”
“Is the pain gone?”
“Couple broken ribs, some dehydration, broken wrist.” He lifted his arm from the bed and knocked the cast against the frame. “I’ll get there.”
It was probably only part of the story. In the end, neither of them would really know what it had been like for the other. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “We never should have gone to Kelley in the first place. I had no idea what we were getting into.”
“It was bigger than both of us.” He lowered his voice. “But there may have been something else at work. I mean, when you step back and look at the entirety of the thing, it seems your presence there, in Frank’s world, is what eventually brought him down, and his whole gang with him.”
A cart rattled in the hallway. Loreena smelled cooked chicken. It was true. Frank was gone because of her, but the rest? “If the whole gang went down, that’s because of Shawn,” she said.
“The FBI agent?”
She nodded. “He was working undercover the whole time. He said he has real evidence on them.”
“So that’s why he was so concerned about you.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“He was. At the cabin.”
All she could remember were the hands on her, carrying her, and how she’d struggled to get away. But Shawn had been the one to find her in the end. That was something, anyway.
“I have other news,” Dominic said. “Not bad. Good. Really good.”
Squeaky footsteps came into the room and they both turned. “Dominic Taylor? Looks like it’s time for these.”
They waited while the nurse gave him a few pills and a glass of water, checked him over, straightened his sheets, and asked if he needed anything. Dinner would be coming, she said. Short and quick, the woman was as efficient as a machine, and gone about five minutes after she arrived, her rubber soles squeaking away down the hall.
The room fell quiet again, save the other family’s voices—a woman, a man, and two young children, the patient an older man, the grandfather, Loreena guessed. Even the hallway settled, empty of passersby.
“Loreena.” Dominic leaned toward her chair. “I have to tell you something.”
“Does it have to be right now?”
“You remember when I came to you, that first day?”
She nodded, absently pulling the coat closer around her.
“I had something then. Something bad. I had planned to talk to you about it that day, but then we were having fun, and I didn’t want to ruin everything.”
She braced her feet against the bed frame.
“After that, we were at the bar, and everything happened, you know, and we were separated, and there was no chance to tell you.”
The other family laughed, the young boy talking above the rest, telling his grandfather about the wooden boat he had built.
“I tried in the tunnel, but I don’t think you could hear me. Then we were trying to get back, and by then I wanted to get back, but I still wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He smiled, one of those accompanied by a soft exhale. “It’s gone. Completely gone. The doctors can’t find it.”
She waited.
“The cancer.”
“The what?”
“I had cancer. Pancreatic cancer. Incurable. They gave me only six months to a year. But now it’s gone. The tumors are gone.”
Loreena blinked. Shadows swirled in front of her, the lighter clouds and darker clouds twisted by a new wind behind her useless eyes. He hadn’t come to interview her for a story.
“No, it’s okay.” He moved toward the edge of the bed. “That’s what I’m saying. It’s gone now.”
She blinked, her eyes shifting back and forth. Falling back in time, she saw the first scene between them with a new gaze, and felt her muscles shrink in her face.
“Loreena, don’t you see? I’m going to be fine. All because of you. You’ve saved my life.”
He had told her he wanted to interview her, had spoken about human interest stories and how people would want t
o know about the blind girl playing the piano in a church. But that wasn’t it. He’d made that part up, just to get a chance to talk to her about something else. Something much different. It was why he didn’t eat his soup, why he wanted to extend their time together, why he had offered to take her to Kelley.
Why he hadn’t seemed surprised in the tunnel.
“How did you know?” she asked.
He paused. “Russell came to the dude ranch. He told me what he was going to do. Like I said, people open up in the mountains.”
Russell. Long before the day she took him to the lake, the man with lung cancer had talked to her uncle about his disease. Or her uncle had talked to him, more likely, had told him there was a way to make the final journey easier. He’d given Russell more details than she’d realized—had even included her, and what she could do. He must have, for Dominic had known it all that day he’d arrived at the church. “What? You just thought you would do it, too?”
Silence. Then, “I didn’t believe him. Who could believe someone like you existed?”
Someone like her?
Loreena’s skin felt hot. It was stupid. Stupid to have believed he had shown up interested in her. Stupid not to have known there was only one reason a complete stranger, especially one as handsome and kind as Dominic, with his thick brown hair and cocoa bean eyes and soothing voice, would come to find her in the little church on the hill in Stillwater. Stupid. Foolish. Naïve. The image of the girl in the mirror flashed before her eyes, the scared young girl with the dirty face and knotted hair.
“Loreena, did you hear me?”
Pushing her chair back, she stood up. How many steps to her room? She hadn’t counted them. Safely on her uncle’s arm, she hadn’t counted, and now she needed to get back and he wasn’t there. “Uncle?” she called. “Uncle Don?” She stepped forward, her hands out, searching. The family stopped talking.
“Loreena, wait. I should have told you, but after I met you…”
“Can I help you?” The woman, behind her and to the right.
At the foot of the bed, she hesitated. From here, she had no guide. The wall was several steps in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” Dominic said. “Talk to me. Loreena.”
“When you came to the church, the first time.” She reached for the woman’s arm. Found it. “You didn’t want a story, did you?”
Dominic shifted in the bed, the frame creaking underneath him. “I thought it was possible.”
Another lie.
“The story I told you about, the piano professor. I did write that one, years ago. I thought maybe I could do it again.”
“But that’s not why you came to see me.”
Several seconds passed.
Her right hand out, Loreena walked. The woman moved beside her, hesitant, slowing her down.
“Does it matter why we met?” Dominic asked. “How we met?”
Loreena walked faster, nearly dragging the woman along with her.
“Would you have given me the time of day? Loreena, would you have even spoken to me, if I had walked into the church and told you I wanted you to help me die?”
Loreena stopped. The woman turned back, breaking Loreena’s hold.
“I’m sorry,” Dominic said. “It’s…a figure of speech.”
Loreena tapped bare air until she found the woman’s shoulder. “Please,” she said.
“You all right?” The woman spoke in a subdued voice, as if asking in secret.
“Loreena.”
His voice pulled at her, but she couldn’t turn back.
“Loreena, don’t.”
Closing her eyes, she stepped forward again, willing the woman to take her.
“I’m just down the hall,” she said. “Next room on the left, I think.”
Her guide took control then, and together they made their way out the door.
“Loreena!” Dominic called.
Loreena swayed and bumped the woman’s side. Hair brushed her cheek, soft, long hair that smelled like lemon.
19
The roast chicken lay untouched on the rolling tray by Loreena’s bed, the cup of milk having warmed to room temperature. The shadows had grown dim with the setting sun, the air a little cooler than it had been. The overhead lights were off, her roommate asleep, the door closed to give them some privacy. Lying on her side, she could think of only one word: cancer. All this time, it had been cancer that had brought Dominic into her life. Not her. Not her supposed story. Not even her blindness. Just her accursed hands, and what she could do with them.
Really, it was no different from why Frank had wanted her.
The radiator on the wall clicked and hummed, but it wasn’t enough to stop chill bumps from dotting her arms. The sheet and one blanket wrapped up between her knees, she tucked her hands into the crook of her neck and closed her eyes. That Dominic was alive still felt like a miracle. He was even healthier than he’d been when she’d met him. Could what happened really have affected him that much? His cancer gone because of what they had made her do? It didn’t seem possible, despite Dominic’s conviction, but at the moment, she found it difficult to care much one way or the other.
Her uncle returned about thirty minutes after she did. The scent of cooked meat came with him, paper bags crinkling in his hands as he walked across the room, bearing gifts from the local burger joint. He slowed down at the corner of her bed, expecting she was asleep, she imagined, until she turned toward him. Coming forward then, he brushed up against the frame and settled down in the chair beside her.
“That looks appetizing,” he said, apparently glancing at the chicken. “Want a burger?”
She sat up and took the warm present. It smelled so good she tore the wrapping off and pushed at least a third of it into her mouth.
“Guess that answers my question,” he said.
Playing with the edge of the blanket, she twisted it between her fingers while she chewed, letting the meat and ketchup and mustard and cheese sink into her tongue.
“So, how did it go with Dominic?”
She’d draped her pretty coat on the back of the chair to avoid crumpling it. She thought about asking him for it. The one thin hospital blanket wasn’t enough. She would have liked more fabric to stuff between her knees and into the curve of her belly, filling all the crevices that now felt so wide open. “It’s Saturday,” she said. “You’re supposed to be practicing your sermon.”
“I got a substitute.”
“Harold?” she asked, the retired preacher who had stepped in a few times before.
“He was thrilled when I called.”
Loreena smiled. Even at the age of seventy-two, Harold was an enthusiastic preacher. The few times her uncle had been gone when she was growing up, Harold always made the services fun, choosing the snappiest hymns and placing subtle jokes in his sermon that always got the congregation laughing. Usually, she was sad to see him go, but she’d never told her uncle that.
“I know,” he said, as if reading her mind. “The congregation won’t be in any hurry to have me back.”
“You know they love you,” she said.
“You’re avoiding my question.”
The pillow was too fat under her head, difficult to position in any comfortable way. She punched it a few times and stuffed it back under her neck, and then lay her head against it and sighed. “Did Dominic tell you?”
“What?”
“Why he came to the church.”
“I thought he wanted to interview you, for a story.”
“That was a lie. He had cancer. Pancreatic cancer.”
Uncle Don took a bite of his burger. “But he’s so young.”
Loreena wriggled her legs back and forth, unable to relax. “That’s why he came to the church, to see me.” She reached into the bag for the fries. “There was no story.”
“You think…” He hesitated. “He wanted you to help him, like in a final ritual?”
Strange, to hear it called a “ritual” again.
“The doctors gave him six months to a year. He didn’t want to waste away, I guess.”
Uncle Don crushed the wrapper in his hands. Out in the hall, people passed by, muffled voices discussing a patient’s worsening cough. In the other bed, her roommate’s breathing remained steady, a deep sleeper. Uncle Don got up and closed the door. When he returned, he picked up the bag and started in on his fries. “On the day you left,” he said, sitting back again in his chair. “Tell me.”
That story. He wanted to hear it now? She took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. Where to begin? “We were at lunch, Dominic and I,” she said, “when Crystal came bursting in. She said Saul was in trouble.”
She ate her fries slowly as she recounted the long story. Eventually the bag was empty. She crumpled it between her hands and placed the resulting ball on the rolling tray. “The whole time they had me, all those weeks, until Frank took me to the cabin, I thought I had killed Dominic.”
“You took his hand, like you always do, but he survived?”
She nodded. “They tore us apart. We were still in the…tunnel when it happened.” Describing it was difficult. He knew nothing of what it was like for her, and had always claimed to believe little of what she’d told him. “After Frank’s battle with the other gang, he took me to the cabin. Dominic was there, tied up in the back room.”
“Alive.”
“But in bad shape.” She took a sip of water. “I don’t know how long he went without food, and they must have beaten him up at least once. He said he had tried to escape. The whole time, I think he was in pain.”
Uncle Don took her wrist, his warm fingers encircling her skin. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I never should have gone.” I should have known, after Crystal understood what happened to her father, she thought, but she couldn’t tell him that. “I should have come back first.”
He let go of her wrist, probably because he agreed with her.
“All that time,” she went on, “Dominic wanted me to kill him anyway. There was never any story, Uncle. He came to me because of Russell. He met Russell on some horseback ride, and Russell told him about me. You must have let him know what I could do?”
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