Texas Heat

by Fern Michaels

  Maggie’s head bowed. All the years slipped behind her, the weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders. Almost home free. Almost.

  “You’ll have to leave now, Mrs. Tanner,” said the nurse. “Mr. Jarvis is waiting for you at the end of the hall. Dr. Marlow will be out shortly to speak with you.”

  Sawyer summoned every ounce of strength left in her. She was so groggy, she just wanted to sleep, but she had to do something, say something. No one else would have understood the mangled word that came out through her dry mouth.

  “M-mam.”

  Maggie heard. She thought she could hear a choir of angels singing when she walked down the hall to join Adam. Taking him by the arm, she asked, “Do you hear them, the angels singing?”

  Adam stared at her, bewildered. He realized she was deadly serious. “No, I don’t,” he said slowly, “but if you do, that’s okay with me. That’s a plus for our side.”

  Maggie walked around the waiting room, her gaze sweeping the ceiling. Adam shivered when she said, “It could mean they’re getting ready to take her.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” he said sharply.

  When the surgeon arrived Maggie and Adam listened to him. When he left, they looked at each other. “Do you know what he said?” Maggie asked crazily. Adam shook his head.

  “Seven hours. Then, if she comes through it, it’ll take another seventy-two till they know if it was a success.”

  They waited. The minutes ticked by; the hours crawled. Twice Maggie called Sunbridge just to hear her mother’s voice. “I really do have two children, Mam,” she cried before she hung up.

  “Be strong, Maggie.”

  “I am.”

  “Call me later.”

  “Mam ... I heard angels sing. I really heard them. I know Adam thinks I’m crazy, but I did hear them; I know I did. Say you believe me,” Maggie pleaded.

  “Darling, if you say you heard them, then I believe you. I, for one, still believe in miracles.”

  “What if ... what if it means they’re getting ready to take her?” Maggie cried.

  “Then, baby, you have to let them take her.”

  Maggie cried, great huge sobs that ripped at her insides. Adam found her in the phone booth and led her back to the waiting room.

  More minutes and hours crawled by. They smoked and drank coffee. Adam scrounged in his pockets for some stale M&M’s, which he offered to share with Maggie. She refused. “How long has it been?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Six hours.”

  “One more to go. It must be going all right, or we would have heard by now. Don’t you think so?” Maggie asked, looking at him imploringly.

  “I think so.” Jesus, one more hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand six hundred seconds. A lifetime.

  Forty-five minutes later the surgeon entered the waiting room, a cup of coffee in his hands. He ripped off his green skullcap, his mask dangling around his neck. He looked tired, Maggie thought. She waited for him to speak.

  He took a long swallow of the horrible coffee. “She came through it, and she’s in recovery now. We’ll know in seventy-two hours. I’d say her chances are better than I first thought. I’ve seen people that should be dead still living because they will it. When she first came to me, Sawyer had given up. I was dumbfounded when you called and said she wanted the operation,” he said to Adam. “Something happened to that girl along the way. I’m confident she’ll fight now. I would have liked her to be a little stronger, but we simply couldn’t wait to build her up. She’s got round-the-clock nurses. I can be back here within fifteen minutes at any time. One of my associates is staying the night. Is there anything you want to ask me?”

  Maggie’s mind was full of questions, but she couldn’t voice them. She looked at Adam, who was just as mute. Both of them shook their heads. Then, when he saw Maggie glance up, Adam closed his eyes.

  “Do you hear them?” she asked, smiling at the doctor.

  “Who?” he asked tiredly.

  “The choir of angels. This is the second time I’ve heard them today.”

  The doctor smiled, his eyes warm and gentle. “I hear them every day. I’d say they’re a little louder than usual, though. A good sign.” He held out his hand, first to Adam and then to Maggie. “Go home now and get some rest. You both look like I feel.”

  Adam and Maggie linked arms and walked to the elevator. In the main lobby they stopped to call Sunbridge. Maggie reported happily that Sawyer had come through the operation. She could hear Billie repeat the news to the others. “The next seventy-two hours are crucial. Pray, Mam. I heard the angels again. Even Dr. Marlow says he hears them. The surgeon—he said they were louder than usual. A good sign. Mam, I’m not crazy.”

  “I know you aren’t. Take care, Maggie. Go home and get some rest.”

  “Anything new?”

  “Not a thing. When Sawyer comes to, give her our love.”

  “I will. Good night.”

  In the taxi Adam stewed and fretted. “Why didn’t I hear them? What does it mean?”

  “I wish I could explain it to you, but I can’t. Perhaps it has something to do with life and death. I gave Sawyer life. The doctor deals in life and death all the time. It’s the best I can do.”

  “Damn, I wish I’d heard them. I’d feel so much better.”

  “Maybe you don’t need an angel to sing for you. Maybe you’re supposed to do your own singing. I don’t know. ... I’m so tired, I can’t think. Can we discuss this tomorrow?” Adam nodded.

  Billie called a family meeting. “Things are on hold here. How would all of you like to go to New York and be there when they pronounce Sawyer’s operation a success? I’ll call Valentine and see if she can get permission for Cole and Riley to go. Amelia, you know Judge Bellows, don’t you?” At her nod, Billie said, “See what you can do. Make it easy for Valentine. Tell him we’ll be back in forty-eight hours.”

  Twenty-four hours after Sawyer’s operation, the Coleman jet took off with all the Colemans aboard. They camped out in the hospital waiting room, returning to Adam’s to freshen up, then going immediately back to the hospital to watch the sleeping girl through the glass in the intensive care unit.

  It was Maggie who kept vigil across from the clock. In just four hours the time limit would be up. How still Sawyer looked, how pale and wan. She wished she could hear the angels again. She was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Suddenly she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and looked through the glass. Sawyer’s hand fluttered, but the thumbs-up salute was unmistakable. Maggie’s own thumb went up in response.

  Sobbing, Maggie ran back to the others and fell into Rand’s arms. “She’s okay! She just did this.” She demonstrated the cocky salute that had been a favorite of her father’s. Adam collapsed on the sofa. Cole and Riley took off and pressed their faces up against the glass. Both boys shot their fists into the air. Sawyer again stuck her thumb up.

  “You hear something?” Cole asked.

  “Yeah, a radio. I didn’t think you could play radios in this unit.”

  “That’s no radio. It sounds like the choir at school.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Riley agreed. He shrugged it off as they made their way back to the others.

  “She’s got a long road ahead of her, but I’m confident she’ll make it,” Dr. Finley said heartily. “Now, I think all of you should go home and let our patient begin her recovery. She knows you’ve all been here; I told her. I also told her I was sending you home. She understands. I want all of you to get at least eight hours of sleep, and that’s an order.... Damn, they’re at it again,” he muttered as he left the room. Maggie smiled happily.

  Kisses and hugs were the order of the day in the lobby. “Tell Sawyer I’ll be back, Adam,” Maggie said. “I have business at home. And take good care of her.”

  “I still didn’t hear them,” he whispered.

  “Don’t worry. Sawyer will sing a song for you. Just for you. Call us.”

 
; “Will do.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  It was almost midnight when the Coleman jet touched ground. The tired but happy clan climbed into the waiting cars that would take them back to Sunbridge. Amelia immediately placed a call to Judge Bellows, informing him the boys were back in Texas and would soon be asleep in their own beds. She also reported on Sawyer’s progress and hung up feeling better than she had in days. Maybe that little talk she’d had with Sawyer had helped.

  That night they slept, all of them. If their sleep was invaded by demons in the shape of Ben and Luana Simms, no one ever knew.

  It was two-thirty the following afternoon when Maggie sent Rand out to invite the reporters and news media to the house. Valentine Mitchell was in attendance. Maggie read a statement and then waited for questions.

  “Are you serious, Mrs. Tanner? You really want a face-to-face confrontation with Luana Simms? What if her lawyers won’t go for it?”

  “We have nothing to hide. If they have nothing to hide and the girl is telling the truth, why wouldn’t they? Unless, of course, this is all for money.”

  “You said you’d offer ten thousand dollars to anyone who would come forward and tell what they know about that night. You mean only if it clears Cole and Riley. Is that right?”

  “Absolutely right,” Maggie said tightly.

  “Does that include Luana herself?”

  “It includes anyone who can clear Riley and Cole,” Valentine said clearly.

  “How’s your daughter, Mrs. Tanner?” asked a young woman.

  “On this side of the angels. Thank you for asking.”

  “Then that’s it, ladies and gentlemen,” Valentine said, dismissing the reporters. “We’ll be here at the same time tomorrow. Hopefully, the Simmses will be here, too.”

  When the door closed behind them, Valentine put her hands on her hips, glowering. “That’s probably the dumbest, the stupidest, thing I’ve ever done in my life. That goes for you, too. If you think for one minute that the Simmses’ attorneys are going to let them come out here, you’re all out of your minds.”

  “You’re probably right,” Maggie said ruefully. “What I’m hoping for is that Luana will come forward. Ten thousand dollars will get her away from here. If she tells the truth, Social Services will take her from Simms, where she’ll be safe. When she’s of age, she’ll have ten thousand dollars plus the interest it gathers.” She shrugged. “It was worth a shot. I saw that child after one of her father’s beatings, and it’s something I’ll never forget. We have absolutely nothing to lose.” The others nodded.

  Valentine left the ranch shaking her head. It was so damn dumb, it just might work. She couldn’t allow herself to think beyond this time tomorrow.

  “Cole, take the pickup, and you and Riley go to the line shack and bring that old couch back here. Put it in the garage and cover it up.”

  Ben Simms watched the six-o’clock news with his daughter, his face dark and full of rage. Luana cowered in her chair. “Don’t you go gettin’ no funny ideas, you hear, girl?” he snapped. “I’m going out to call our lawyer. You stay right here with Louise.”

  Sullenly, Luana looked at the woman sitting across from her. They’d been staying with Louise since they’d moved from the dirty apartment they were in. This place was clean and Louise was a good cook. But she was mean, just like Pa—watching her every move as though she were some kind of thief.

  Luana stared moodily at the TV. Nothing was working right. The lady she was supposed to work for had canceled her, summer school had never materialized, and she’d been cooped up here like a prisoner. All because of her pa and what he’d done to her. If there was only some way she could get out of here, she’d go to the police and tell the truth. She often thought of Cole and Riley and wondered if they hated her. They sure had a right to.

  Ben Simms came back in, a look of joviality on his face. “Our lawyers said them Colemans are just grabbin’ at straws because they know we got ’em cornered. He said we could expect more tricks like this one.” Luana didn’t say anything. She hadn’t been able to look her father in the eye since that night. She didn’t even want to be in the same room with him. “He said we ain’t goin’ out there tomorrow, so don’t go thinkin’ we are, girl.” “Yes, Pa,” she said obediently, keeping her eyes on the TV. If she could just get to the Coleman ranch...

  That night, Luana lay awake in her bed for a long time, listening to the sounds coming from the room next to hers. When the bedsprings finally stopped groaning, she waited another fifteen minutes, then stole out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. Then she crept into the other bedroom, pocketed two quarters from Louise’s purse, and quietly let herself out the front door.

  Once outside, she ran, tears flowing down her cheeks. She ran till she came to Bill’s Sunoco Station, which was brightly lit but closed. She went right to the phone booth and called information to get the number for Maggie Coleman Tanner of Sunbridge. She repeated it aloud five or six times, then dropped the returned quarter back into the slot. Her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely punch out the numbers.

  The phone was picked up on the tenth ring. “Miz Tanner? This is Luana,” she said, her voice trembling. “Can you come get me? I’m at Bill’s Sunoco Station on the highway. Please, Miz Tanner.”

  “I’ll be right there. Are you all right?”

  “I will be soon as I tell the truth. I can’t stay out here in the light. I’ll be across the road in the dark. You stop, and if I see it’s you, I’ll come out. My pa might find me gone, and he knows the first place I’d go is to you.”

  “It’ll take us about twenty minutes. Just stay there.”

  “Was that who I think it was?” Rand demanded when she’d hung up.

  “It certainly was. We have to get dressed. Do you think we should call a doctor or a nurse or somebody?”

  “Or somebody. I think you should call Valentine and let her pick Luana up. Simms might accuse you of kidnapping her. Christ only knows what that bastard will do.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Luana will think it’s some kind of trick. I promised her I’d be there. I think she trusts me; otherwise she wouldn’t have called.”

  “Maybe it was the ten thousand dollars,” Rand said sourly.

  “That was bait. It made her move, didn’t it? It must have taken some of the fear out of her. I don’t care about the money. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be raped by your own father.”

  “Are we going by car or horseback?”

  “Horseback. Luana can ride with me. I don’t dare drive through the gate. Let them figure it out in the morning. Be quiet, though. Voices carry when it’s quiet like this.”

  They saddled their horses silently and led them on foot for a good quarter of a mile. Then they mounted and raced off. Lotus whickered softly as her mistress urged her on.

  Five minutes later, Maggie reined in her horse. “We have to cross the highway. Bill’s station is about a quarter of a mile down the road,” Maggie whispered softly. “Wait until there’s no sign of a car and then go for it.”

  Luana gasped when Maggie called out to her from behind. “Over here, Luana. We’re on horseback. Hurry. There’re cars coming and we have to get on the other side of the highway.”

  They’d no sooner crossed the road and were in the shadows than they saw two police cars race by, sirens blaring.

  “I knew it. I knew it. Pa heard me sneak out. Don’t send me back. God, Mrs. Tanner, don’t send me back.”

  “No one is sending you anywhere. Hang on. You’re going to find out what it’s like to ride with the wind. I think we can make it back to the ranch before they get there.” Maggie gave Lotus her head and the horse galloped off.

  Soon they were walking back from the barn, keeping well in the shadows. The flashing lights could be seen from the driveway. “Shhh,” said Maggie, laying a finger against her lips. “I told you voices carry.”

  Rand grimaced. Luana shivered against Maggie. Th
ey all listened.

  “Any cars come or go out of here in the past two hours?”

  There was a chorus of nos. “What’s up?” a brash reporter shouted.

  “The Simms girl split. Her father thinks the Colemans snatched her. You sure no one came or left here?”

  “Would we be standing here if there was any action going on?” the same voice demanded.

  “Back to the barn,” Maggie ordered quietly. “We’re going to have to sleep out here. The others will think we went out for a while and just aren’t back yet. It’s better if we don’t have to lie to the police.”

  Rand unsaddled the horses while Maggie and Luana watched from one of the barn windows. The flashing red and blue lights lit up the entire driveway. A few minutes later, lights came on in Sunbridge. Then someone was at the back door; the porch light went on. Mam.

  Fifteen minutes later the porch light went out. The police cars backed up, their blue and red lights twirling like batons.

  “What we’ve just done is probably illegal,” Maggie whispered to Rand. Luana was asleep in the straw, her cheek resting on her hands. Rand stared at her for a long time before answering.

  “I suppose it is. As soon as the Social Service Office—or whoever is in charge of things like this—opens, get on the phone. I don’t think it would hurt to ... what is it you Texans say?—call in a few favors. That judge Amelia was talking to: call him again, too. And for God’s sake, make sure Valentine is here. The police will be back as soon as it gets light.” He cradled Maggie’s head against his chest. “Sleep, Maggie. I’ll keep watch.” He stroked her hair gently and thought he could hear her purr. For one crazy second he felt as though he were back in the RAF.

  Rand shook Maggie gently. “It’s going to be light in a few minutes. Go back to the house. I’ll stay here with Luana. Send somebody out with some food when you can.”

  Maggie dusted off the straw. “You’re being a real brick. Are you sorry you got tangled up with this crew and all our problems?”