by Linda Seed
It was hard to look at his mother right now, given what he’d read in Redmond’s letters. But then again, conflict with his mother over Redmond was nothing new.
Sandra glanced at Drew and then at Isabelle, sizing up the tension between them. When she began to talk about practical matters—scheduling, and Liam’s surgery—he got the sense that it was her way of defusing the metaphorical bomb.
“Called the hospital this morning. Liam’s doing okay, considering. Surgery’s scheduled for three p.m., so I figure we’ll have a decent lunch and then go out there. Megan’s already with him.” She gave Drew a meaningful look. “I’d say you should come along, Drew, but there’s not much sense in you driving all the way out there so you can pop into the room for five seconds and then disappear.”
Drew squirmed a little under the mild rebuke. “About that. I—”
“Now, don’t use up any of your brain power trying to come up with an excuse.” She plopped a thick ceramic bowl of salad onto the kitchen table with a thwack. “I figure you don’t have enough to spare.”
Isabelle, seemingly unaware of the undercurrents between Drew and Sandra, piped in.
“Drew, honey, if you’re not going to the hospital, maybe you can help me with the final arrangements for the rehearsal dinner. It’s tomorrow, after all, and I haven’t even finished the place cards yet.”
“What the hell do we need place cards for?” Sandra wanted to know.
“Why, I think they’ll come in handy,” Isabelle said, unperturbed. “Especially since there will be a few guests you don’t know very well—Julia’s relatives, my friends …”
“Well, I figure that’s what introductions are for,” Sandra grumbled. “It’s why people talk to each other.”
Isabelle either didn’t hear Sandra’s protests or didn’t care. It was hard to tell. Either way, Drew was certain there would, in fact, be place cards.
When Julia came into the kitchen and saw Drew, she gave him a hard hug, then said, “So, are you coming to the hospital after lunch?”
“I—”
“He’s gonna help your mother make place cards,” Sandra broke in. “For the rehearsal dinner.”
Drew seemed to be having his entire day—and, indeed, his week—mapped out for him in a way that was beyond his control. “I am?” he said.
Sandra shot him a look. “Well, I figure you are, unless you want to go out to the hospital with us, maybe spend some time with Liam and Megan before the surgery.”
She planted her hands on her hips and looked at him with pursed lips.
So, those were the choices presented to him: Watch the woman he was in love with ministering lovingly to another man, or spend time with the mother who had deceived him his entire life about who he was.
Perfect.
“I … guess I’ll come to the hospital,” he said.
“Well, fine then. You can ride with me,” Sandra said.
“Oh, honey.” Isabelle looked at him with disappointment. “I thought we could spend some time together.”
He turned to Sandra.
“When do we leave?”
They left after lunch, when they’d all eaten their fill of the chicken sandwiches and salad that Sandra had put together. Isabelle stayed at the house to work on her place cards.
Julia and Colin went in Colin’s car, and Drew and Sandra rode together in Sandra’s pickup. Breanna stayed behind so her boys wouldn’t have to spend hours in a hospital waiting room—a scenario that would do a disservice to the boys as well as to any patients within earshot of them.
Drew figured Sandra had assigned him to ride with her because she wanted to talk about Megan, and he was right. She started in before they were fully outside town limits.
“Well, I figure you haven’t changed your mind about the girl,” she said as they headed down Highway 1 toward Route 46. “Still wishing she was yours instead of Liam’s.”
“Sandra …”
“Now, don’t try to deny it. I’ve got eyes, haven’t I? I saw how you looked when you walked into that hospital room and saw her holding his hand. Why, I’d have thought you were the one that’d been crushed by a damned horse.”
“Are you going to lecture me about it? Because you can, you know. I deserve it.” He slumped down in the passenger seat of the truck.
“Well, I don’t see much point,” she said.
And then she lectured him anyway.
“I can see that maybe she and Liam aren’t exactly a match fated by God in heaven, or any of that happy crap,” she said. “They’ve got their problems. So if somebody”—she looked at him pointedly—“thought he was going to make a play for her, then it wouldn't be completely out of left field.”
He stared at the road and waited for the rest. It didn’t take long.
“But she’s not the kind of woman’s going to abandon a man when he’s down. And if she were, then you’d be some kind of fool to want her in the first place.”
He knew she was right.
He no longer wondered how Sandra knew what she knew about the inner workings of his heart; he’d simply accepted that she did know more than he would have thought possible. Instead, he focused on the substance of what she was saying: By being there at Liam’s side, Megan was just being Megan. And if she were any different, there wouldn’t be a need for this conversation to begin with.
There was something else special about Sandra other than her near clairvoyance. Somehow, she made him want to open up to her, whether it seemed wise or not.
“It’s not just that,” he told her.
“What’s not just that, boy? You mean something else has got you looking like the dog ate your last Pop-Tart?”
He scrubbed at his face with his hands.
“Yeah. Guilt.”
She glanced at him as she drove. “Because you want Liam’s girl? Or because you’ve done something more than just want?”
He groaned. “Sandra, it’s kind of spooky the way you do that.”
She let out a low chuckle. “Boy, when you’ve raised four kids, developing a sixth sense is just a matter of survival. Why, if I hadn’t been able to tell what Liam was thinking, he’d have fallen off the barn roof and killed himself when he was twelve.”
“Well.”
Drew rode in silence for a while as Sandra waited for him to come out with it. Finally, he did.
“I thought … I thought I’d be able to wait. She told me she was having problems with Liam. So, I knew that. I knew the two of them were on their way out. So, I thought, I’ll just see what happens. And then, at some point, if she’s free, I’ll get to know her a little, see where things go.”
She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye as she drove. “Seems sensible enough. But it didn’t work out that way.”
“No. I was in Redmond’s room yesterday, and I found his letters, and … I was upset. And later, she called me, and …”
He left the and out there to signify all of the many things that had happened between himself and Megan, all of the things that he wouldn’t tell Sandra or anyone because they defied explanation or description.
“Boy, are you saying you were out of your mind with … what do they call it? Angst? And so you didn’t realize where you were putting your pecker?”
“No. No. I’m saying … What I’m saying is that when I was upset, I didn’t want to tell anyone but her.”
Sandra considered that. “Well, listen, boy. I’m not much for judging others, because I’ve done some things in my life I’d rather not face the music for, if I can help it. But this is my boy we’re talking about, and he’s about to get his leg cut into.”
“I know.”
“Now, you and Megan are going to do what you’re going to do, and I don’t imagine Liam’s going to stop you. I don’t imagine I am, either. But now’s not the time.”
They rode wordlessly for a while amid the oak-dappled hills on the route to Templeton. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue. Here and there on the hills, cows grazed
and mooed.
“I’ll tell you something else,” Sandra began, and Drew braced himself for a lecture about family, loyalty, faithfulness, and honor. “You’re telling me you couldn’t help your feelings, that you’ve got something more than just a strong yen for Megan, something that made you do things you otherwise wouldn’t. That about right?”
“Yeah. That’s about right.”
“Well, you might consider that your mother felt much the same way when she met Redmond.”
It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. He didn’t know how Sandra felt about his mother, but he’d assumed it was some mixture of irritation and judgment, similar to, but much less loaded than, his own feelings.
The idea that she was defending Isabelle took him a moment to process.
“That’s different,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.
She grunted. “Is it?”
“Well …”
“All I’m saying is, you’ve done your best to ignore the woman since you got here. And I won’t say I don’t understand it, because I do. But she’s your mother.” Sandra took the turn that led toward Templeton, and shot a glance at Drew. “And she’s only guilty of what you’ve done yourself, seems to me.”
“She had a child from an illicit relationship, passed that child off as someone else’s, then lied for thirty years.”
Sandra chuckled. “Well, boy, give yourself time. You might be an underachiever now, but there’s always the chance you’ll catch up.”
Chapter Nineteen
Megan didn’t expect to see Drew at the hospital, especially after their ill-fated phone conversation. So when she came out of Liam’s room on her way to the vending machines, she was surprised into speechlessness when she almost walked directly into his chest.
“I … oh.” She skidded to a stop right before ramming into him, and fixed her gaze on his chest so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. Sandra was with him, and she rolled her eyes extravagantly at Megan’s reaction. Megan could feel her cheeks begin to burn with a blush.
“I was just … There are vending machines down the hall, and I …”
“Well, nobody’s stopping you, girl,” Sandra said when Drew couldn’t seem to respond. “Get me one of them Kit Kats while you’re at it, would you?”
“Sure.”
“How’s Liam?” Drew asked before she could leave, having finally found his voice.
“He’s okay. Scared, but he won’t show it. You know Liam.”
“Well, I’ll say I do,” Sandra put in. “My guess is, he’s about to rip the head off anybody who comes his way.”
“That’s about right,” Megan said.
“Well, you first,” Sandra said, giving Drew a little nudge toward the door of Liam’s room.
If Liam was surprised or irritated to see Drew there, he didn’t give any sign of it, possibly because he was engaged in an ill-tempered rant.
Ryan was standing next to the bed, and while he seemed to be listening good-naturedly, he also looked relieved when Drew and Sandra showed up.
“They’ve got the goddamned cooking channel on the TV, and the fuckin’ remote doesn’t work. Do I look like I want to learn how to make”—he looked at Ryan—“what was it again?”
“Béchamel sauce,” Ryan supplied.
“Right. Do I look like I want to learn to make a fuckin’ béchamel sauce?”
It was unclear whether he was addressing Drew or Sandra, but Sandra was the one who answered.
“Well, I figure the day you learn to cook anything that doesn’t come out of a can, I’m going to be checking the sky for flying alligators.”
“They’re about to cut my goddamned leg off. Would a little baseball be too much to ask for?”
“Well, I guess it’s wouldn’t.” Sandra went to Liam’s bedside and took his left hand into both of hers. “Now, I know you’re scared, but I don’t figure they’re really going to cut your leg off, son.”
Liam frowned at her. “I didn’t say I was scared. I said I’d like some damned baseball.” He glanced grudgingly at the TV, where a chef was whisking something. “And some food. I haven’t eaten anything since last night.”
“The surgery—” Ryan began.
“Yeah, yeah, the surgery, blah, blah, blah,” Liam groused. “Where’s Megan?”
“Vending machines,” Drew said.
“Actually, she’s hiding out from you,” Ryan said to Liam. “You wuss.”
As the scheduled time for the surgery drew near, more family members and friends filtered in and out. Colin and Julia came, and then Breanna showed up with the boys, and then Orin made an appearance and reminisced about the surgeries he’d had in his lifetime: an appendectomy, a gall bladder removal, and during his long-ago childhood, the removal of his tonsils.
Megan returned and sat with Liam for a while, as did a couple of the ranch hands and a few guys Liam liked to drink with down at Ted’s.
To avoid turning the whole thing into an impromptu party that would put undue stress on the hospital staff, they filtered in and out a few at a time while the others milled around in waiting rooms, in the cafeteria, and in the lobby.
Drew wondered if the big turnout indicated that Liam was in more danger than was immediately apparent. He wandered over to Colin, who was standing in the corner of the surgical waiting room, talking on his cell phone to somebody in Los Angeles about something having to do with the tax implications of a property sale.
When he was done and had tucked his phone into his back pocket, Drew said, “He’s going to be okay, right? I mean, it’s a broken leg.”
Colin didn’t offer immediate reassurance the way Drew had expected him to.
“I saw the X-rays,” he said. “Looked like somebody stepped on a pretzel.”
“Oh. Shit,” Drew said.
“I mean, he’s going to live. But that leg …” Colin shook his head and left the thought out there.
Suddenly, Drew started to get scared for Liam. He didn’t like the guy—probably would never like the guy—but that didn’t mean Drew wanted any harm to come to him. It didn’t mean the man should end up permanently broken.
Across the room, Megan was talking to Julia. Drew watched her, the way her face lit with animation in response to something Julia was saying. He watched the way her hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it away. He watched her smile about something, watched the little space between her brows wrinkle in concern about something else.
There was a world of stories and emotions and possibility, just in that face.
When she finished with Julia and walked out of the room, back to Liam, maybe, or to somewhere else unknown, Drew wanted nothing more than to follow her.
But Liam needed her right now, he figured.
“She’s not even standing there anymore, and you’re still staring at the place where she’s been,” Sandra said to him under her breath. He hadn’t even seen her walk up.
“What?” He’d barely heard her.
“You’d better pull yourself together, boy.”
Drew had told himself that he would leave once Liam went into surgery, since there was nothing of practical use that he could do here. But when the time came—when Liam had been wheeled off by a couple of guys in scrubs—Drew couldn’t seem to go.
So he settled in at a bank of chairs in the waiting room, feeling awkward. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his hands were knotted together in his lap. There were Delaneys everywhere—in this room, in the hallway, down at the coffee cart.
He was wrapped up in his thoughts—about Liam, his mother, Sandra, his inheritance, and everything—when Megan came into the room and quietly sat beside him.
They sat side by side in companionable silence for a while, until she said, “About me and Liam …”
Drew shook his head and then gave her a faint smile. “He needs you right now,” he said.
They left it at that, and waited for news.
The surgery
took several hours, amounting to numerous coffee runs, games of cards, reminiscences by the Delaneys of Liam’s most memorable mishaps and injuries, and sitcom episodes on the TV mounted high in the corner of the waiting room.
Finally, when the sky outside the windows was dark and most of the hospital had quieted down, the surgeon came into the room to report that Liam’s procedure had gone as planned. The bones had been repaired using a considerable amount of hardware, and he was expected to regain full function—though not without a good deal of recovery time and physical therapy.
The mood among the group went from anxious forced cheer to giddy relief. Liam would no doubt be a pain in the ass during his recovery, but he would recover. With that established, everyone’s focus shifted to the practical matters of how to get Liam through the coming months, how to fully staff the ranch while Liam was out of commission, and how to proceed with the wedding with the minimum possible disruption.
“Well, I suppose I'm going to have to come out of semi-retirement for a while,” Orin said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. They were all standing around, at loose ends while they waited for Liam to come out of the anesthetic so a few key family members—including his parents—could see him.
“No, Orin, you’re not going to do that,” Sandra said in a scolding tone. “You’ve got the thing with your back, plus your blood pressure. We’ve got plenty of sons ought to be able to pick up the slack.”
“Sure,” Ryan agreed. “And I can hire a couple more hands.”
It didn’t escape Drew’s notice that it would take “a couple” of ranch hands to replace one of Liam. Possibly, he’d underestimated the man’s skills and his worth.
“Maybe Drew here can pitch in.” Colin slapped Drew on the back.
The suggestion took Drew by surprise. “I don’t know anything about ranching.”
“Neither does anybody, when they first get started. You’ll learn.”