“Gentlemen.” Her commanding tone got their attention quickly.
Both men swiveled their gazes to Madeline.
“Good morning, Madeline. This is my colleague from New York, Doctor Brian Lawson.” Dr. Carmichael introduced them with a smile on his face. “I had wired him for a consultation, but he surprised me by coming out here.”
Dr. Lawson’s smile was anything but shy. “I’m pleased to meet the famous Mrs. O’Neal. I’ve heard amazing things about you, madam.” His clipped speech confirmed Micah’s suspicion that the man was definitely a Yankee through and through.
Micah’s gut roiled with instant dislike and hostility. There wasn’t a specific reason, it was just the way Lawson spoke, looked and the way he stood too close to Eppie. Envy, anger, and hatred argued with each other to see which one would win. He’d been right, the man was there to replace him. An irrational, yet totally logical conclusion to his foolish mind.
“This is my good friend Micah Spalding.” Madeline turned to him and pulled him closer.
“Mr. Spalding.” Dr. Lawson inclined his head with nary a hair out of place. “How do you do?”
Micah sought Eppie’s gaze and she looked away, which is when anger won the battle within him.
“I did much better before you got here, Yankee.” His voice had sunk down to a growl, and the anger felt good; more than good—it felt great. “Forgive me if I don’t jump up and down with joy to see another doctor here to tell us she can’t remember anything.”
Madeline released his arm and turned to frown fiercely at him. “Micah, Dr. Lawson is a guest in this house.”
“I don’t care if he’s the fucking president, I didn’t ask him to come here and I sure as hell don’t want him here.” Once the anger was set loose, Micah felt a black wave hovering, ready to consume him in a self-destructive whirlpool.
Eppie’s expression hardened and disappointment was clear in her eyes. “Micah, Dr. Lawson came to help and he’s traveled a great distance.”
“I can’t listen anymore. Ever since you woke up, the world got turned on its head and every damn day, you get farther and farther away from me. Now you have someone to turn to.” He threw up his hands, tasting bitter freedom on his tongue. “I’m done fighting. I think it’s time I thought about me for the first time in four years.”
He pushed passed them, giving Dr. Lawson the Perfect a good shove as he stormed toward the door. The silence behind him was louder than the sound of his heart slamming against his chest. He wanted to shout, cry, and rail at the heavens, but he kept walking. Damn it all, he needed to find a place where he belonged, because it sure as hell wasn’t in that mansion.
Fortunately or not, Teague wasn’t in the carriage house, so Micah was able to saddle one of the horses and ride out without speaking to anyone. He had no clothes, no food, not even a hat, but he turned toward the mountain, toward his cabin.
It felt freeing to leave it all behind for once, to not think about anything but survival. Two hours later, when his cabin in the mountains came into view, he realized there was one person he left behind that he shouldn’t have.
Miracle.
“Where’s Daddy?” The child’s chocolate eyes looked up at Eppie with bewilderment.
“He had to go away for a little while.” She certainly didn’t like lying to the little girl, but since she had no idea where Micah was or when he’d be back, she didn’t know what else to do.
“Back soon?” Miracle was pulling on her white nightgown and her words were muffled in the cotton.
Eppie wished she knew the answer to that question. For the entire day Miracle had peppered everyone with questions about her father. If Micah were there, Eppie would have no qualms about kicking his ass from one end of Colorado to the other. The way he’d treated Doctor Lawson appalled her. Even if he’d been jealous or confused, there was no excuse for the hostility.
Madeline had tried to smooth things over and was the perfect hostess, while Eppie fumed about Micah’s behavior. Other than telling her she was healthy, but thin and suffering from muscle loss and the other ills from lying in bed for nearly three years, every test that Dr. Carmichael had run had been inconclusive in determining the cause of her memory loss. She was glad to see Dr. Lawson, since her own doctor had been telling her about him for the last four days.
He was a wunderkind in New York, the most sought-after physician in the medical community. Brilliant, handsome, and gifted, Dr. Lawson could have any patient or client he wanted and he’d chosen to make the two-thousand-mile journey to Colorado to see her.
She had been excited until Micah threw a tantrum, then the rest of the day had a pall over it she couldn’t shake. Even the delicious supper Candice prepared with apple pie had tasted like sawdust to Eppie. She couldn’t decide exactly what she was feeling. Underneath the insane reaction to Dr. Lawson, she’d sensed Micah was hurting. It had been there in his gaze, and she’d turned away from it, unwilling to be brought into his anger. It was unfair of him to put her in that position and he knew it. This wasn’t about him, this was about her getting well and trying to get her memory back.
Micah had turned it into a selfish contest. She’d felt a simmering anger toward him since he’d stormed off, yet she was also worried about him. He’d been gone half the day and she had no idea where he was. Madeline wasn’t talking, other than to say to give him time to calm down. Teague frowned and threatened to find him and teach him a lesson in manners.
Eppie just wanted him back in the house, to make sure he was okay. Regardless of what she’d forgotten about their relationship, she certainly remembered every moment since she’d awoken. They’d been intimate together twice and every second of those moments replayed themselves over and over in her dreams.
He was kind, gentle, and awkward, and from what she’d seen, a devoted father. His daughter, their daughter, blinked up at her like a baby owl, confused and alone. Eppie’s heart turned over and something inside her opened up wide, embracing the idea of being a mother.
She squatted down and scooped the girl into her arms. “How about I tuck you into bed.”
Miracle snuggled her head into the crook of Eppie’s neck as if she’d done it a thousand times. “’Kay.”
Trusting and sweet, Miracle was so easy to love that Eppie knew her heart had already been captured by the precocious moppet. Miracle’s small body was warm against her, a natural weight she could get used to. Eppie breathed in the smell of soap and little girl. Being around a child was a new experience, of that she was certain; however, it was fast becoming very familiar.
As she stepped into Miracle’s room and walked toward the small canopied bed, Eppie had a flash of another room, another time with a blue bedspread and sunshine. She lost her balance as the floor moved beneath her feet. Miracle grabbed hold of her neck and hung on like a burr.
Eppie steadied herself by grabbing the bedpost, but she kept a firm grip on the girl. Had it been a memory of another place she’d lived? Or perhaps she had another life somewhere and didn’t remember. Her stomach flip-flopped and she felt the supper she’d forced herself to eat threaten to return for an encore.
“Mama?” No matter what she’d been told, Miracle still called Eppie Mama. This time it was exactly what she needed to chase away the dizziness and plant her feet firmly on the ground.
“Sorry about that. I lost my balance.” She tried to sound silly, as if it was a nonsense moment, but it was anything but.
As Miracle fussed with her covers and her yarn-haired doll, Eppie tried to recall what she’d remembered in detail. It wasn’t an easy task because it had only been a split second. She knew for certain it wasn’t in this house because the room had been much smaller and there had been a window with a golden field behind it, not the bright greenery that surrounded Plum Creek.
She was anxious to talk about it with someone and the first person that came to mind was Micah. Strange that with two physicians in the house ready and willing to assist her with whatever she
was suffering from, she wanted the crazy, sad-eyed man who’d found his way into her heart.
Miracle was watching her, for how long Eppie didn’t know. “I ready.”
Eppie leaned over and kissed her soft, plump cheek. “Good night, Miracle.”
“’Night, Mama.” She planted a small wet kiss on Eppie’s cheek. “Love you.”
It was the first time Eppie had put Miracle to bed, tucked her in, and made sure she was safe. Although she hadn’t realized the magnitude of the occasion, when she looked down at the toddler who trusted her, Eppie’s eyes prickled with tears. She had been given a gift in this child and she fully intended to hold on to that gift with both hands.
She now understood why Micah had chosen her name. Miracle was truly a miracle.
Micah found the last few years had turned his cabin into a haven for critters of all varieties. There were so many different kinds of shit, he could barely count them. His impulsive flight from the house had put him up on the mountain for at least the night, so he had to make it livable.
After chasing out the raccoons, mice, and squirrels, he used a broom to get out the worst of the dirt and muck. Bugs, of course, were another matter. They scattered and ran into every corner. At least the furniture was still solid, just dusty and musty.
He’d built the cabin into the side of a hill beneath the wide arms of the evergreens that populated the Colorado mountains. If someone didn’t know the cabin was there, they likely wouldn’t see it. The trees had grown some, so things looked different but the same. Micah had no trouble finding it, however. It was the only thing in the world, besides Miracle, that truly belonged to him.
The two small windows were caked with grime and the sink had apparently been used as an outhouse for the woodland creatures, because the piss had eaten away the wood. After using his pitiful corn broom to take the first layer of dirt off the floor, he’d made enough progress to stay the night. Now he had to figure out what he was going to eat and how he was going to sleep on the bed that was just a frame strung with a wood rope lattice half-eaten by critters.
He had removed all his clothing from the cabin when he’d moved to Plum Creek, but there had been a blanket or two left in the trunk he’d brought west with him. It must’ve been a well-built trunk, because the mice hadn’t gotten in to ruin the contents. Finding the blankets, although they were dirty, made him whoop with glee.
“Aha! I guess I did something right.” He pulled the blankets out and opened them up by the open windows to air them. They smelled like a mountain man’s socks.
He refused to think about Eppie or Miracle for at least the next twelve hours. The former had made her choice in trying to find a way to live her life without him, and the latter had been caught in the crossfire. If he allowed himself to wallow in what he’d left behind, Micah knew he’d spend the night killing himself to ride down the mountain.
Instead he stepped outside and pulled at the door until he finally got it closed by kicking a chunk of moss out of the doorjamb. The sounds of the woods surrounded him, soothed him, reminded him why he’d chosen that spot to build his cabin. A peace settled over him that allowed him to simply focus on breathing in and out, ignoring the clamor in his mind and heart.
As he walked down the overgrown path, he remembered there were raspberry bushes down by the creek, or at least there had been three years earlier. At this time of year, they should be loaded with berries, provided the damn birds hadn’t eaten all of them.
He took a deep breath, the taste of pine coating his tongue. It was familiar enough to soothe his tension somewhat. When he’d headed for the mountain, it had been blind anger and jealousy driving him. Now that he was there on the hill that had been his home for more than five years, he came to the conclusion it was more than anger. It was instinct to return to that which comforted him.
Ever since he’d lived in the Brewster mansion, Micah had felt as if he didn’t belong. Even though Madeline had given it to him, it wasn’t his home. He lived there as a permanent guest, he supposed. He’d never said anything to Madeline about his feelings, but nevertheless, he felt more comfortable in a shit-infested cabin than he did in opulent luxury.
Memories of his childhood in Virginia flooded his mind—the fancy parties, the overabundance of wealth and gluttony. His parents had owned a cotton plantation outside Richmond. Life had been full of servants, pressed clothes, too much of anything and everything.
Jesus, his father had even brought a prostitute to the house to take his virginity when he’d been sixteen. At eighteen, he had been full of ideas about his invincibility and his God-given right to be as arrogant as he possibly could.
Then the war began and life as he knew it ceased to exist. However, the hell he’d gone through fighting senseless battles had come to a fiery, bloody end when he’d made it back to Virginia. He’d been half a man and what he discovered took away whatever had been left of his soul.
Micah stopped and leaned against a tree to catch his breath as sweat poured down his face. Why the hell had he started thinking about the war and Virginia? It brought him nothing but agony. In fact he had to bend over to stop himself from vomiting as bile rushed up to his throat.
“Bastard,” he spat. “Why the hell people worship You is beyond me.”
It was as if coming back to the mountain had made him revert to old habits—cursing at God, brooding over the past, and generally being a miserable hermit. Micah felt himself slipping back into the black hole he’d lived in before meeting Madeline, before falling in love with Eppie.
Eppie.
The thought of the beautiful, strong woman who showed him what it meant to be human made his spiral of self-pity grind to a halt. She’d given him the gift of her love and nearly her life. He’d taken care of her for three years and now that she’d awoken, she left him behind.
Micah pressed a fist to his chest as pain roared through him. He’d lost her, it was that simple. She’d made the choice to move past him and face the future alone. The question was, was he man enough to let her go?
Chapter Eight
Eppie woke with a start, her dreams full of monsters and shadows she didn’t know. Her first instinct was to find Micah and talk to him about it, which surprised her. He was never far from her thoughts, and try as she might to ignore it, she was worried about him. She lay in her bed and stared out the window at the crescent moon in the black velvet sky. Micah had been gone less than a day, and she missed him. The ache deep in her chest had been a constant since he left. It surprised her, too.
Her feelings became apparent when she was getting Miracle ready for bed and she saw how much of Micah was in the girl, and not just his wavy brown hair. She had some of his mannerisms and his quirky expressions, and even his words seemed to tumble from the girl’s mouth.
Micah had been overwhelming at first, frightening her with the way he hovered and watched her. She’d come to realize he had taken care of her for so long that shifting his focus wasn’t going to be an immediate change for him. He had lost himself somewhere along the way, and latching on to her had given him a purpose.
Now that she’d woken from the coma, he’d lost that purpose and didn’t know what to do. He’d become more jittery and unpredictable, not that she could predict anything that man was going to do. The way he reacted to Dr. Lawson had not only surprised but confused her. No doubt he was more confused than she was. Maybe that’s why he ran.
With a sigh, she climbed out of bed, knowing she wasn’t going to sleep any longer. It was hours before dawn and she had nothing to do but think. That could be a dangerous proposition, so she decided to go to the kitchen and have some warm milk. Perhaps a little bit of help could get her to sleep at least a few more hours.
The last person she expected to see in the kitchen was Dr. Lawson. He’d shed his suit jacket, vest and tie, looking more relaxed and casual than she imagined he would. His chocolate brown hair was mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through the waves. A shadow of whiskers
peppered his face, which currently wore a surprised look at her appearance.
He had a half-eaten piece of bread in his hand and a glass of milk on the table. A self-deprecating grin crossed his face as he rose to greet her.
“Elizabeth! I didn’t expect anyone to be up.” He set the bread down on the plate in front of him. “I’ve been travelling so much I’m afraid eating regularly has been a challenge, and well, I got hungry.”
Eppie realized Dr. Lawson was more than a physician, he was a handsome, sexy man. And she noticed it at the same time she realized perhaps Micah had been right to be jealous. While her body rejoiced in joining with Micah, her heart still did not belong to his, and her head told her to keep all options open.
“Understandable. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a time change like that, but I can imagine it makes your stomach confused.” She gestured to the food. “Help yourself. You are a guest and welcome to anything you’d like.”
“Anything?” He raised his eyebrows.
Eppie wanted to fall on her behind in shock. Was he flirting with her?
“Within reason, of course.” She felt her cheeks heat and her body react to him, just as she had for Micah. Was it just a physical reaction or something more?
“Were you hungry, too?”
She felt upside down and sideways all at once, and very flustered. “I couldn’t sleep and thought some warm milk might help.”
Then she remembered why she couldn’t sleep and knew she shouldn’t be there in the dark with a stranger, even if he was a physician. She’d pledged her body to Micah’s and owed him more than a passing thought.
“Please let me heat some up for you.” Dr. Lawson turned toward the stove, which is when she saw the pan already on the burner and realized he was already drinking warm milk.
The Redemption of Micah Page 13