Coming Home

by Christine S. Feldman

  Sighing, she deliberately turned her attention away from Danny and told herself to go to sleep.

  But her mind was too busy to allow for much rest. By the time the final leg of her flights landed, Callie was bleary-eyed with exhaustion. She stumbled off the plane, considering her options. A cab would be the more comfortable way to get to the hospital since she could sleep in the back, but it would also cost a small fortune to travel that way over such a distance. A rental car made more sense, she supposed. Throwing her bag over her shoulder once more, she wearily trailed after other passengers through the gate. It had been a few years, but she thought she still remembered the way to the help desks.

  “Callie?”

  Hearing her name, she blinked in surprise and turned around.

  A familiar figure stood off to one side of the crowd, hands tucked casually into the pockets of well-worn jeans as the throng of people jostled past him. In four years, he hadn’t changed much, and he looked as much like a lean and tanned man of the outdoors as ever.

  Funny how eight years could suddenly disappear and she was right back where she had been as a teenager, at a loss for words at the sight of him.

  “Danny?” she managed finally, staring at him. “I — what are you doing here?”

  He crossed through the crowd to get to her as easily as if he were crossing water. People just seemed to make way for him, some without even seeming to realize they were doing it. That was always the way with him. He didn’t ooze the flashy sort of charm her brother had, the charm that always seemed to win Elliot hordes of female admirers, but Danny McCutcheon had an appeal all his own — one that radiated a quiet, solid sort of confidence.

  And Danny had never lacked for female admirers either, much to Callie’s teenage chagrin.

  He stopped in front of her, his eyes taking her in and impossible for her to read. She felt flustered and had to resist the urge to duck her head as she might have done years ago. It had been a long time since she had trouble looking anybody in the eyes. “Thought you could use a ride,” he said.

  “Yeah, I could,” she said awkwardly, torn between her pride and her sudden desire to throw her arms around him. It was so good to lay eyes on him again that it was almost painful. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him until he was standing right in front of her. She wondered if he felt anything even remotely like that about her.

  They couldn’t stand there in the middle of the airport and just stare at each other forever, so finally she gave him a quick, one-armed hug that probably seemed too perfunctory and a little stiff, but it was too late to take it back. “It’s good to see you, Danny.”

  He still smelled like the outdoors, and it still made her lightheaded.

  She released him, and his hand brushed against her waist as they separated. “Been a while.”

  It might have been a rebuke, or it might have been a simple statement of fact. Apparently she had been away long enough to forget how to read him. “How’s Mom doing?” she asked, changing the subject.

  His face was a mask, expressionless as he studied her. “She’s having surgery this morning. Probably be out of it by the time we get there.”

  “Surgery? For what?”

  “She broke her hip. Doctor says if she can avoid infection, she should mend all right, though. She’s going to need some looking after.”

  “I see.”

  He slipped the bag from her shoulder and put it over his own. “This it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re out this way.”

  Without looking back, Danny led the way through the crowd of people and out to where his beat up old pickup truck sat.

  Welcome home, Callie thought with a wistful pang as she followed him out.

  • • •

  Danny walked ahead of Callie to allow himself a few moments to absorb the impact of seeing her again. He hadn’t expected it to hit him this hard, and he hoped it didn’t show on his face.

  He hardly recognized her. It wasn’t that she looked very different. There were subtle changes, of course, some that he wasn’t sure he could even put his finger on, but she still looked like Callie.

  But she was different somehow. Older. Harder. Not the same girl he had known. She was a woman now, and she carried herself like one.

  She also looked exhausted, Danny thought grimly, as he led the way among the parked cars. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was much too pale. But then he had always thought that. A little sunshine and fresh air would do her a world of good compared to the smog of New York City. Other than that, though, she was as lean and lithe as ever.

  He risked a backwards glance at her over his shoulder. She moved with a confident, sure stride that had not been there before, and when she caught him looking at her, she didn’t look away first. He did.

  Emotions warred within him. Relief at seeing her safe and sound after years away from home doing God knew what. Bitterness at the easy way she seemed to cut him out of her life despite everything that should have linked them.

  But he ought to have hugged her, a small voice inside him insisted. He ought to have held her and told her how good it was to have her back home instead of letting her get away with that aloof little one-armed excuse for a hug. It had been easy enough to do such things when she was his best friend’s kid sister, but harder now. This woman walking with him seemed very different from that girl. He wasn’t sure he knew her.

  She smiled when she saw his truck, and it was a beautiful smile, one that made him suddenly nostalgic for older days when things were simpler between them. “Some things never change, do they?” she asked wryly, running a hand over a dent in the truck’s fender, caused years ago in a misadventure with Elliot.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” he said more shortly than he’d intended.

  Her smile faded, and he wanted to kick himself. He didn’t want this visit to be a repeat of the last one, full of angry words and hurt feelings. There was a time, after Elliot’s death, that he thought they might have been closer to each other than to anyone else. Maybe they would never be able to recapture the easy camaraderie that used to exist between them, but surely they could be civil to each other.

  In an effort to be more conciliatory, he opened the passenger’s side door for her and handed her the bag after she had settled into the seat. Then he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, thinking that this might turn out to be a very long ride.

  Chapter Two

  Callie stole a glance at Danny in the rear-view mirror as he rounded the back of the truck. He wore jeans like few other men could, and he still looked as lean and good as he ever had, but it was the faint frown he wore that caught her attention. Even frowning, his mouth did strange things to her heartbeat.

  Judging by his response to her comment about the truck, he still harbored some disapproval of her decision to leave small-town life behind her. Fine, she thought. He could disapprove all he liked. She would make no apologies for choosing to live her life differently than most people did, but she hoped they would be able to put the tension from her last visit behind them. Easier said than done, she supposed.

  The door creaked when he opened it up to get in, and then again when he slammed it shut. Most people would have traded the truck in for a newer model by now.

  Awkward or not, they were going to have to find a way to talk to each other. “How did it happen?” she asked him. “Mom’s accident?”

  He turned the key in the ignition, and old as it was, the truck’s engine purred like a kitten; Danny McCutcheon took good care of his things. Then he sighed and ran a quick hand through his light brown curls, revealing momentarily the faint line of the scar at his hairline that he had earned the night Elliot had died. “She was trying to put a new display up in the window and fell off her ladder.”

  “I though
t she had someone to help her with that kind of thing,” Callie said incredulously. “Debbie Something-or-other.”

  “She does, but you know your mom. She likes to do the displays herself.”

  “Yeah, that does sound like Mom.” She could be ninety years old and crippled by arthritis, and she would still likely insist on creating the scenes in the storefront window of her little gift shop.

  Danny pulled the truck away from the airport and on to the main road, and Callie drew a blank on what to say next. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to talk, so maybe she was the only one who found the silence uncomfortable. She looked out the window and pretended that there was nothing wrong. The city traffic thinned out once they got on the highway, and trees began to pop up beside the road with increasing frequency: pines, firs, and others she couldn’t name anymore, if she ever could. Danny knew them all, she was sure.

  They were pretty, whatever their names were, and although she enjoyed the New York City skyline, she had to admit that the trees were a pleasant change of scenery.

  The air conditioner had long ago stopped working in this truck, and the air in the cab was hot and stuffy. Callie had worn a long-sleeved blouse over a tank top, anticipating the cool air on the plane, but now she was sweating. Rolling down the window, she closed her eyes as a gust of air hit her face, offering some relief from the summer heat. At least here there was no humidity.

  She thought she felt him watching her, but when she turned her head to look back at him, his attention appeared to be solely on the road. “Business on the water going well?” she asked, pleased that she finally thought of something to say even if it wasn’t exactly brilliant conversation. The rafting business had been both his dream and Elliot’s, and she supposed the tourists were out in droves now thanks to the seasonal heat.

  “It’s a busy time of year for us,” he conceded, still not looking at her.

  She smothered her growing frustration. “I’ll bet.” She was a city girl now, but a ride down the river sounded good even to her at the moment. Not that he had invited her. She fanned herself with one hand. “It was good of you to take time away from work to help Mom out. Is your Grandpa minding things for you while you’re gone?” she asked, dimly recalling the man who had raised Danny while his parents were … well, she didn’t actually know where his parents were. Danny had never spoken about them.

  It seemed like an innocent enough question to her, but she could have sworn a shadow crossed his face. “No,” was all he said.

  Callie gave up trying to make conversation. He could talk to her when he was ready. Might as well try to get a little rest before they got to the hospital. Peeling off the blouse she wore over her tank top, she wadded it up into a makeshift pillow against the door and relaxed her head against it. In moments she was asleep.

  • • •

  Danny glanced at her. From the deep and even sound of her breathing, he could tell she was sleeping. When she slept, the hardness around her mouth relaxed, and she looked more like the Callie of old. Younger and more innocent. Living on her own terms had toughened her, and he wondered again why she had chosen to leave home in favor of life on the road. When he’d told her he thought it was a poor choice, she had reminded him rather hotly that he was neither her father nor her big brother, and it was not his place to try to tell her what to do. Maybe she was right, and he had to admire the guts it took for her to go out on her own, but the idea of her disappearing into the great wide world had hit him like a ton of bricks. She and Liddy might not be family to him, but except for his grandfather, they were the closest things to it that he had left. He admitted to himself that he had not handled it well at the time, but the fact that it seemed so easy for her to leave wounded him.

  He turned his attention back to the road.

  She would leave again, once Liddy was back on her feet. It would be wise of him to remember that.

  Callie stirred in her sleep and shifted beside him, bringing her leg into contact with his. The touch was very slight, but his grip on the steering wheel faltered for a moment. Her movement had startled him, he told himself, that was all. And yet now his grip on the wheel was unnaturally tight.

  But he was not himself. It had been a stressful couple of days, and given the way they had parted last time she was home, it was understandable if things felt awkward between them. Add to that the fact that he was going on precious few hours of sleep, and he was allowed to cut himself some slack.

  Of course, she looked exhausted, too. She could use a little slack as well.

  He let her sleep until they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, and then he had no choice but to wake her.

  “Callie.” Danny said her name softly, so as not to startle her. She moved slightly but didn’t wake, so finally he reached out to touch her hand with his own. Her fingers curled around his automatically, and he froze, unwilling to break the moment. It was just because it was good to have his friend back again, surely. His surrogate sister. He worried about her being so far away from home and it was simply good to be able to reassure himself that she was here and safe, if only for a short time.

  But the feel of her hand in his now was very different from what he had expected. He had held her hand before, many times, and it had never done this to him. Her skin, so soft and pale against his own tanned and calloused palm, sent a spark of something through him that he didn’t recognize. At least, not with her.

  Resisting the urge to brush his thumb over her fingers one more time, he withdrew his hand from hers and spoke her name again, louder this time. “Callie. We’re here.”

  Her dark eyes flew open with the confusion of someone who had been sleeping deeply and was unsure of her surroundings. Then they locked onto his, and he saw comprehension dawn. “We’re at the hospital?” she asked, rubbing a crick in her neck and arching her back in a stretch.

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel again, and he looked away from her profile. “Let’s go find out if she’s awake.”

  • • •

  Callie had never imagined her mother as frail before, but as she looked down on her sleeping mother’s face now, she thought she looked much older and smaller than she remembered. Liddy was only fifty-three, but there were far more lines on her face now than the last time Callie had seen her. Natural aging? Or worry lines? If she couldn’t tell, then she had probably been away too long, Callie thought with a pang of guilt.

  “The surgery went well. We cleaned the area thoroughly and put some screws in the femur. She’ll be on antibiotics for a while, but she should heal just fine.”

  Callie nodded numbly at the doctor’s words, but her gaze remained on her mother.

  “When do you think she’ll be able to go home?” Danny asked from somewhere behind her, and she felt a surge of gratitude that he was there and able to think clearly enough to ask what should have been an instinctual question for her.

  “Not for several more days at least. We’ll want to make sure she doesn’t develop an infection after the surgery. She’ll spend a few more days here, and then we’ll move her to a rehab facility for a few more days after that. We’re going to give her a walker and have her work with our physical therapist to learn the activity limitations she needs to follow as the hip heals.” The doctor gave them a meaningful look. “She’s going to need a lot of help for a while. Things that used to be simple will suddenly be a lot harder until she learns to adapt. Don’t be surprised if you meet with a little frustration from her now and then.”

  “We’ll take good care of her.” Danny held out his hand. “Thank you. We appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  The older man smiled and shook it. “Absolutely.” Then he turned to Callie. “Don’t worry, young lady. I suspect your mother will make a fine recovery.”

  Callie snapped out of her daze. “Thank you,” she said politely, but it was disconcerting to
see Liddy like this, she who never got sick with anything worse than the common cold. She was the very definition of an independent woman, and Callie couldn’t remember ever having seen anything take the wind out of her sails before.

  “Oh, and she just had a dose of pain medication before you arrived, so she’ll probably be sleeping for a while.” The doctor opened the door to go. “Come back tonight, and she’ll be more alert and ready for visitors, I think.” The door swung shut behind him.

  When he was gone, Callie took a tentative step closer to the bed. She watched her mother’s chest rise and fall with shallow breaths beneath the hospital gown and half-expected Liddy’s eyes to pop open and the older woman to speak. But she only lay without moving.

  Danny’s hand touched Callie at the small of her back, reassuring. “She’ll be up and complaining about the food before you know it.”

  “She looks thin. Was she always this thin?” Callie was ashamed that she couldn’t seem to remember.

  “Hospital beds make everyone look sickly. And the lighting doesn’t help, either. Don’t pay any attention to that stuff.”

  “Easier said than done.” Reaching out, she took one of her mother’s unresponsive hands in her own and squeezed it. “You think she knows we’re here?”

  “Yeah, I think she does.”

  Bending down, she whispered into Liddy’s ear. “Hey, Mom. It’s your prodigal, here. I understand you had yourself a little bit of trouble at work. Quite the drama. What you won’t do to drum up a little business, eh?”

  There was no twitch of the eyelids, though, and no answering squeeze of the hand. Callie straightened, disappointed but not really surprised.

  Danny put an arm around Callie’s waist and gently drew her away from the bed. “You heard the doctor. We can come back tonight.”

  His arm was strong and steady, and she was tempted to lean into it. Not so much because she was worried — she believed the doctor’s encouraging words were on the level — but more because the closeness felt good after the awkward greeting at the airport. But once they were out in the hall, he let his arm drop away from her. She moved ahead of him so he wouldn’t see the disappointment on her face.