Morning Light

by Catherine Anderson

  Loni pushed erect and followed Samantha’s example, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I love you, Clint.” Oh, how she loved him. “Whenever you wake up, imagine that I’m here hugging you.”

  He didn’t answer. She slipped quietly from the cubicle to rejoin the Harrigans in the waiting area.

  Frank Harrigan was engaged in an intense conversation with a well-dressed, middle-aged couple seated across from him when Loni resumed her place at his side.

  “So the child’s going to be all right?”

  The woman, a slender brunette with gentle green eyes, nodded and smiled tremulously. “They’ll be keeping a very close eye on him for the next twenty-four hours, but the shoulder surgery went well, and the blood your son gave him was an almost perfect match. They don’t anticipate any serious complications. He’s running a slight fever right now, but we were told that’s fairly normal after a transfusion.”

  Loni realized the couple must be Sandra Stiles’s parents. No wonder both of them looked relieved yet forlorn. Their grandson had been saved, but they’d lost their daughter, and their grief still had to be fresh and painful.

  “I appreciate you comin’ down to update us on the child’s condition, Mr. and Mrs. Michaels,” Frank said softly. “Do they have him in a private room now?”

  “Yes, up in pediatrics.”

  “My son Clint will be glad to hear that.” He took off his hat and turned it in his hands. “I know you folks are feelin’ real sad right now about your daughter and that you’ve been through a rough time, worryin’ over the boy. I hate like hell addin’ to your woes. But some things need sayin’ and can’t be put on hold till later.”

  Mr. Michaels, a brown-haired man of diminutive stature with kindly blue eyes, nodded solemnly.

  Frank sighed and gave his hat another turn. “We’ve got reason to believe that Trevor is Clint’s child. He was datin’ your daughter about the time the boy was conceived. Did she ever mention the possibility that Trevor wasn’t sired by Senator Stiles?”

  Sandra’s father ran a hand over his thinning pate. “Our daughter knew for certain that Clint was the father of her baby.”

  A stunned silence followed that pronouncement.

  Samantha, sitting beside Loni, crossed her slender legs and began swinging her booted foot in an agitated manner. Even in dusty jeans with her curly black hair pulled through the back of a red baseball cap, Clint’s sister managed to look elegant. With an edge to her voice, she asked, “If Sandra knew Clint was the father, why on earth did she never tell him?”

  The woman shifted on her chair, a clutch purse held tightly in her white-knuckled hands. “Please don’t think badly of Sandra. It nearly broke her heart when she told Clint she wasn’t pregnant. But she honestly had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Samantha retorted softly but firmly. “My brother had a right to know his son, and Sandra deprived him of that.”

  Frank reached across Loni to pat his daughter’s knee. “These folks have been through hell over the last week, honey. Let’s not go too hard on them.” To Sandra’s father he said, “Can you explain the situation to me, Jacob? Why was it impossible for Sandra to tell Clint about the baby?”

  Jacob Michaels sat forward on his chair. “Shortly after moving back to Sweet Home, Sandra became active on the local level as a campaign worker to secure Robert Stiles a senatorial seat in the 1998 elections. At the time she still didn’t know she was pregnant, and when Robert stopped in at the campaign center one afternoon, he and Sandra hit it off.”

  “And once they hit it off, Mr. Stiles couldn’t afford to risk any hint of scandal by marrying a woman pregnant with another man’s child,” Frank supplied.

  “Not if he hoped to become a state senator.” Jacob Michaels tugged at his shirt collar. “He and Sandra were deeply in love. The only way they could possibly be together was for Robert to claim the child as his own.”

  “It was the only way,” Sandra’s mother interjected. “Sandra couldn’t take a chance that Robert’s political career might be derailed because of her pregnancy. Can you imagine the media heyday if a story like that had surfaced? The incumbent, who’d held the seat for eighteen years, would have leaped at the opportunity to throw garbage, calling into question Robert’s morals, his good judgment, and God only knows what else. Robert’s reputation and credibility would have taken a very hard hit. Sandra believed in Robert and felt he would do great things for our state. She could walk away from her relationship with him and tell Clint about the child. Or she could keep silent, marry Robert, and be happy with the man she loved.”

  “So she chose the latter,” Quincy said with undisguised disgust. “You do realize that Clint will fight tooth and nail to get his son. Nothing this side of heaven or hell will keep him away from that boy. It’ll be a very simple matter for him to get a court-ordered paternity test. If he can prove the child is his, getting custody will be a shoo-in.”

  “A paternity test and court proceedings won’t be necessary,” Jacob Michaels said. “I know all of you feel bitter and deeply angry with our daughter. To be honest, my wife and I never agreed with Sandra’s decision to cut Clint out of her child’s life. But over time, when we saw how blissfully happy she and Robert were, and what a wonderful father Robert was to our grandson, we did come to accept it.

  “We didn’t argue when Sandra and Robert came to us after they drew up a will and told us that they hadn’t chosen a member of the family to be Trevor’s guardian in the event of their deaths.” Jacob’s eyes filled with tears, and his mouth started to quiver. “They both wanted Clint to raise the boy. Robert felt a great deal of guilt over the wrong they’d done to protect his political career, and so did Sandra. If anything ever happened, they wanted Trevor to be with his real father.”

  “So as soon as the will is read, Clint will get custody?” Parker asked.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Michaels said.

  Jacob Michaels sobbed brokenly and buried his face in his hands. “When they told us about the will, I never dreamed…I just never dreamed that guardianship of Trevor would ever be an issue. And now my girl is dead.”

  Loni closed her eyes against a rush of tears. What Sandra Stiles had done to Clint, and by extension to her son, was unforgivable, but it was also understandable. Sandra had unexpectedly met and fallen in love with her dream man, just as Loni had. When Loni tried to imagine moving on with her life without Clint in it, her mind went blank and her heart hurt. Sandra must have felt much the same way when she contemplated ending her relationship with Robert.

  True love came along only once in a lifetime. Loni’s chance to be happy—loving a man, making babies with him, and then growing old with him—would never come again. Loni had grabbed at her chance to be with Clint. Should Sandra be reviled beyond the grave for making the same decision?

  It was a hard call, but having come to know Clint the way she did, Loni knew his anger at Sandra would pass.

  “It’s difficult, but over time I know Clint will work it all out in his mind,” she said, mildly surprised at her own audacity for speaking. But it was something she had to do. Clint wasn’t there to talk for himself. “It may not have been the right choice for Sandra to make, but I know in my heart that Clint won’t hold it against her. He’s spoken to me about Sandra, and he’s had nothing but good to say about her. He’s told me more than once that she was one of the finest people he’s ever known.”

  Loni half expected one of the exuberant, outspoken Harrigans to ask what right she had to open her mouth. This was, after all, their family tragedy, and absolution to Sandra wasn’t Loni’s to give. But no one in Clint’s family called her on it.

  Frank settled a knowing gaze on Loni, smiled slightly, and said by way of introduction, “Forgive my oversight. This young lady is Loni MacEwen. She’s a clairvoyant, and if it weren’t for her our little Trevor would be dead right now.”

  At Frank’s revelation, Loni’s spine stiffened, and she shifted on her seat, feeling suddenly
uncomfortable.

  Sandra’s parents stared at her for a long moment. Then Jacob said, “Come again?”

  Frank settled a big, warm hand on Loni’s shoulder. “This young lady had a vision of the raftin’ accident. She went to Clint and told him a crazy story about a son he didn’t even know he had. She claimed Trevor had survived the accident, was still alive and lost in the Shoshone Wilderness Area. If not for her Clint never would have known he had a child, let alone that he was in danger. It follows that Clint never would have gone into the wilderness to find Trevor, and the boy would be dead right now. You’d be grieving not only for your daughter, but also for your grandson.”

  “Oh, my. So that’s why it was Clint who found our boy. We wondered at the coincidence. Of all the men in Crystal Falls to have rescued Trevor, how could it possibly be Clint, the child’s real father?” Sandra’s mother came to her feet, stepped across the carpet, and held out a hand to Loni. “So you saved our Trevor’s life.”

  Loni stood to shake the woman’s hand. “I never got your name.”

  “Sharon.” She smiled even though tears swam in her eyes. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done. Our Trevor is so special. Right now having him to think about is all that’s keeping me going.” She tipped her head to give Loni a quizzical look. “I’ve never believed in clairvoyants. I can’t imagine how you knew he was still alive when all the authorities believed he’d drowned. But however it came about, I’m eternally grateful.”

  Loni gave the older woman a quick hug. “I didn’t save Trevor’s life. Clint did. I only accompanied him into the wilderness to help search.”

  “Sandra always spoke so highly of Clint. Even after they stopped seeing each other, she always smiled when she talked about him.”

  As everyone resumed their seats, Jacob Michaels continued the conversation. “Sharon and I want it made clear right from the start that we’re in complete agreement with Sandra’s decision to reveal Clint’s relationship to our grandson and name him as the child’s guardian in her will. Don’t get me wrong. We love the boy with our whole hearts and would like nothing more than to raise him ourselves. But we’re getting on in years, with a few too many cricks in our joints to be decent parents to a rambunctious little boy. We feel very strongly that Trevor will have a more normal childhood with his father, while we do the grandparent thing whenever Clint gives us the opportunity.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ danglin’ at the end of that,” Frank said.

  “There is a concern,” Jacob admitted. “Trevor has just lost his mama and the only father he’s ever known. We’re afraid it will be extremely traumatic for him if Clint takes him away from Sharon and me too quickly. We’re hoping that your son will go slowly, coming to Sweet Home for short visits at first, and then maybe inviting him on afternoon outings for a while. Trevor needs time to get to know Clint and come to understand that Clint’s his real daddy.”

  Frank nodded. “My son’s a fine young man. He’ll do nothin’ that isn’t in the child’s best interests. If that means a few months of visitation before he takes custody, I’m sure he’ll agree to it without a quarrel.”

  Sharon sighed with relief. “I’m so glad to meet all of you. It soothes my heart to know Trevor will have such a wonderful new family. Now I have only one more concern.”

  “What’s that?” Frank asked.

  “Where is our precious Nana? Was she with Trevor? Did she drown? I know it sounds silly, but she’s a member of our family, too. We love her very much.”

  “Nana is fine,” Loni said with a laugh. “She deserves the Most Wonderful Dog of the Year award.” She quickly related to the Michaelses how Nana had saved Trevor’s life, not once but many times over the last several days. “If you’d like to see her she’s out in Clint’s truck.”

  Sharon leaped up from her chair. “I’d love to see her. And if you don’t mind, we’ll take her to our motel. They allow pets, and she’ll be more comfortable there.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Loni stayed at the hospital until nearly midnight to be there when Clint was finally released. Because he was in the ER receiving an infusion, he was considered to be an outpatient and would be able to go as soon as his treatment was completed. Samantha’s husband, Tucker, had joined her, and they stayed until almost ten, but after visiting Clint several times and peeking in on a sleeping Trevor in the pediatric wing, the handsome veterinarian and his pretty wife finally yawned good nights at Loni and went home. Clint’s father and brothers had left hours before to go into the wilderness after the abandoned horses. In the end it was only Loni in the waiting area when Clint emerged from the ER.

  “I’ve been given permission to go up and look in on Trevor,” he told her after a brief embrace. “You want to come up with me?”

  “Can I?”

  “Now that all these idiots finally believe I’m his dad, I guess I can take his future mama up to see him. If they say anything, I’ll tell them to go get stuffed.”

  Loni smiled. “You’re feeling better.”

  “Of course I’m feeling better. All I needed was a lube job.”

  Once in the elevator he gathered her into his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless. “I love you. I don’t remember if I mentioned that today.”

  Loni trailed her gaze over his face, glad to see a healthy glow under his dark skin. “If you told me a dozen times, it never hurts to say it again.”

  “I love you, lady. Thanks for looking out for me this afternoon. I wasn’t thinking very clearly when that security guard was crawling up my back. Lack of oxygen to the brain, I guess. If I’d had the strength, I would have pretended he was a mud hole and stomped him dry.”

  “Fortunately that didn’t happen. You’d be banging a tin cup on cell bars right now, asking to call your lawyer.”

  He chuckled. “Possibly so.”

  When the elevator doors opened and they stepped out on the third floor, Clint reeled to a halt. “I’m so scared I couldn’t spit if you yelled, ‘Fire.’ I can’t tell him I’m his daddy. What excuse will I give him for being there if he happens to wake up? He was pretty out of it when we found him. He may not remember my face.”

  Loni plucked at his stained shirt. “He’ll remember.” She took his hand. “Come on, old man. This won’t be the last time he’ll scare you spitless. Just wait until you teach him to drive.”

  Trevor appeared to be asleep when they entered his room. Sharon Michaels sat beside the child’s bed. When she saw them, she smiled tearfully and stepped around the foot to hug Clint’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “If it weren’t for you I would be without both my babies.”

  Clint acted as if he weren’t quite sure what to do with his hands. Then he enfolded the older woman in his arms. “I loved your Sandra. Only as a friend, but she was a really good friend. I’m sorrier than I can say for your loss.”

  Sharon drew back and wiped her cheeks. “I’ll leave you for a bit to sit with him. I could use a break.” She patted Loni’s arm. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”

  Loni and Clint commandeered the two chairs in the small room. Clint sat forward on his seat, arms braced on his spread knees, gaze fixed on Trevor’s small face. “Isn’t he something?” he whispered.

  “He’s perfect,” Loni agreed, her voice barely a murmur. And she meant it with all her heart. If she was fortunate enough to become Clint’s wife, she would love his son as if he were her own. “I can’t believe how much he looks like you.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?”

  Trevor stirred just then. Clint placed a finger over his lips, signaling Loni that they needed to stop whispering back and forth. But it was too late. Trevor’s thick black lashes fluttered open, his big, liquid brown eyes focused on Clint, and his sweet mouth tipped into a replica of his father’s crooked grin.

  “I remember you,” he said sleepily. “You’re the friend who found me.”

  Clint nodded, his larynx riding high in his throat, then bottoming out. �
�That’s me, partner. You had us worried there for a while.”

  “You told me I’d be okay,” Trevor replied. “So I wasn’t scared.”

  The child tried to shift on his pillow and winced. Clint shot to his feet and helped him to get more comfortable. “That better?”

  Trevor nodded. He gazed solemnly up at Clint. “My grandma said God sent you to me.”

  “She did?” A ruddy flush crept up Clint’s neck.

  “Yep. She says when really sad things happen, God always sends us something to make us feel happy again. My mom and dad drowned, you know. I almost did, but Nana saved me.”

  “I know, partner.” Clint smoothed the child’s black hair. “Your mother was a good friend of mine. I’m so sorry you lost her.”

  Trevor’s eyes went bright with tears. He plucked at the hospital sheet. “Me, too. But Grandma says she’s happy in heaven now with Daddy. Did you know there’s angel music up there twenty-four hours a day, and the streets are paved in gold?”

  “I’ve heard that.” Clint pulled his chair closer, sat back down, and took the boy’s hand in his. “It’s the place where wonderful people go when they leave here. Your mommy and daddy will be really happy up there.”

  Tears burned Loni’s eyes, for she could only guess what it cost Clint to pretend that Robert Stiles had been Trevor’s father. But that was her dream cowboy. When he loved, he loved with everything he had, even if it meant setting his own feelings and needs aside.

  “They’ll miss you, though,” Clint hurried to add. “A whole lot. But there’s another neat thing about heaven besides the angel music and golden streets.”

  “There is?”

  “Oh, yeah. Time goes by really fast up there. To them it’ll seem like they are away from you only for a few minutes, and soon you’ll be an old man, and then there you’ll be, up in heaven with them.”

  Loni knew by the look in Clint’s eyes that he’d been told that same comforting story when he’d been a child, mourning for his mother.