Changing Her Mind

by Stevie McFarlane

  “You’ve thought of everything haven’t you,” she asked sarcastically. “Everything except my job. Or have you taken care of that too?”

  “Actually Sara is going to cover for you until we get back. She thought you needed a break.”

  “Great,” she shouted slamming the door. “Nick and Sara too,” she yelled through the thick wood, almost tearing off her clothes. “I’m surrounded by traitors.”

  “Not traitors, friends,” Mason replied too softly for her to hear and headed for the kitchen.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nicholas stood in front of Maggie Cassidy’s door for a long time. Sweat beaded his brow despite the chilling wind and swirling snow. His hand shook slightly as he rang the bell.

  Maggie O’Malley had been the only girl in high school Nick had dated. He had fallen helplessly in love the first time he saw her and they’d been a couple from that moment on. For a while Maggie had returned his love in every way and Nick had assumed that when he graduated from college they’d be married. That was before he’d learned his first lesson in heartbreak.

  After a grueling week of exams Nick had packed his small car and come home for the weekend. Wanting to surprise Maggie, he had cut cross lots and quietly come upon Maggie on her backyard swing and she was sobbing in Jim Cassidy’s arms. The things he’d overheard that day still haunted him, reminding him never to be so trusting again. Maggie had been telling Jim between sobs that she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t ready for this kind of commitment, and she didn’t know how long she could put off telling Nick. Although her words were broken and disjointed Nick had caught the general idea. He’d retreated unseen, crushed that the girl he loved could be so callous. Convinced that she had been two-timing him, he wrote her, breaking off their unofficial engagement. Several letters came after that, but Nick never opened them. His pride wouldn’t let him and although there had been other women later in his life, he never allowed himself to become deeply involved.

  Maggie had married Jim Cassidy in a quiet ceremony, within three months, reinforcing his suspicions.

  Now he stood uncertainly at her door. His fingers were stiff with cold and the once lovely poinsettia he held in his other arm looked like a reject from a supermarket. If he hadn’t promised Mason to stop in and explain why he and Rebecca wouldn’t be joining her, he’d have turned around right then, but a promise was a promise, even if some people didn’t think so.

  Maggie answered the door smiling. For a moment she didn’t recognize the large man standing on her porch and automatically closed the door a little more.

  “Can I help you,” she asked, struggling to see in the dim light.

  “Hello Maggie,” the man said. “It’s been a long time.”

  A gasp was her only response as recognition dawned. A slim hand flew to her throat and Nick watched as all the color drained from her face. Her eyes had a haunted look that surprised Nick. He had expected surprise, even a cool reception, but he could almost feel the fear that radiated from her.

  The light from behind her silhouetted a slim and shapely woman, bringing a flame to her hair. Long auburn curls trailed down from a pony tail high on her head and Nick’s heart began a steady tattoo. She didn’t look much different than she had fifteen years ago. Still, the expression on her face was not one he ever remembered seeing in those days.

  “May I come in,” he asked softly, feeling the cold even as his temperature rose.

  “I a… of course Nick, come in for a minute.”

  Nick didn’t miss the quaver in her voice or the reference to time. Handing her the plant, he removed his coat and looked around for a place to put it. He could hear giggling coming from the other room and he casually walked in that direction.

  “Nice place you have here,” he told her, looking around and not missing a detail. The house was a blending of old and new, blues, creams, roses and pinks. The tree was trimmed in a Victorian style and scattered beneath it were packages opened earlier in the day. A ten speed bike leaned against a large doll house and Nick’s thick eyebrow went up in surprise when a little girl with curly blonde hair came scampering across the floor and flung herself into his arms.

  “Uncle Mason,” she cried, so excited she began to hiccup. “Come see the doll house Santa brought me.”

  Maggie quickly disengaged three year old Caitlin.

  “Honey this is Mason’s brother, Nick.”

  Caitlin held out her hand in a very adult manner, patiently waiting for Nick to shake it.

  Automatically Nick’s hand came out, completely enfolding her small one.

  “Very nice to meet you Caitlin.”

  “You look like Uncle Mason”, she told him, completely unaffected by her mistake. “And like my brodder too.”

  Maggie swayed, catching hold to the door frame with one hand and reaching for Caitlin with the other,

  “And what brother is that little one,” Nick quietly asked, going down on one knee and looking directly into her small face.

  “My brodder Jason. Come see my doll house Nick,” Caitlin continued, grasping his hand and pulling him in the proper direction.

  “Mr. Kord can’t stay,” Maggie cut in, picking up Nick’s coat for emphasis. “I’m sure he has other things to do.”

  “As a matter of fact I was hoping you’d let me hang around for a while. It is Christmas, after all, and with Mason and Rebecca out of town I…? “

  Maggie never heard the rest of his words. With his mention of Mason and Rebecca her last hope for a way out of this situation vanished.

  The disappointment on her face was not lost on Nick. Turning his attention back to the golden sprite before him, Nick dutifully admired every feature of the special toy. For several minutes the big man and the petite girl knelt together on the floor. The sight of his dark head bending over her daughter while he listened to every word made a lump form in Maggie’s throat and turning away she wiped a tear from her cheek. The sound of running footsteps preceded the two boisterous boys down the stairs and Maggie groaned. What else could possibly go wrong she thought? She’d been hoping to get Nick out of here before this happened and now it was out of the question.

  “Mom, make Jason give me back my new CD, he’s had it all afternoon,” Todd whined, never noticing the stranger in the room.

  “Ah, take it baby,” Jason responded, calling his little brother a name that always inflamed him.

  “I’m not a baby, you take that back,” Todd howled, getting ready to head butt his sibling.

  “Boys, that’s enough. It’s a holiday, can’t you get along even for one day,” she asked in frustration, flinging Nick’s coat down on the couch and wrapping an arm around the squirming Todd.

  “Todd why don’t you call Tommy and see what he got for Christmas,” she suggested, trying to defuse the situation.

  “Okay Mom,” Todd complied somewhat resentfully. “But tell him to leave my stuff alone.”

  “All right, go on. You can use the phone in my room. Jason I wish you’d stop antagonizing him. You know how hard this last year has been on him.”

  “Yeah right, like it hasn’t been hard on the rest of us.” Maggie put a hand to her temple, gently massaging. The man in the living room had been temporarily forgotten in the heat of the moment, but Nick had taken in every bit of the scene played out before him. The stress and fatigue etched in Maggie’s face pulled at him and he had the impulse to take her into his arms and comfort her. This first Christmas after her husband’s death must have been exceptionally hard on her he realized, absently studying Maggie’s oldest son. He was taller than Maggie by several inches, his hair so black it looked almost blue. Funny Jim hadn’t been especially tall and Maggie was barely average height. Suddenly the boy looked directly into Nick’s eyes and the color was startling. Recognition sent a fiery jolt through him and he took a step in the boy’s direction.

  Maggie quickly stepped between the two males who were silently sizing each other up. “Jason, this is Mason’s brother, Nicholas
.”

  “Nick, my son Jason.” Nick heard the slight emphasis she placed on the word my, even transfixed as he was. Looking at Jason was like going back in time. Every feature was stamped Kord. Even the small dimple in his chin marked him.

  “Nick was just leaving,” Maggie said firmly, interrupting their silent assessment.

  Maggie’s hands shook when she picked up his coat and handed it to him. For a breathless moment she was afraid he wouldn’t take it. Her throat was so dry she could hardly get the words out as she thanked him for stopping and escorted him to the door.

  She’d loved him once. Loved him with every beat of her heart, every breath in her body, but that was long ago, before he’d denied them their chance for happiness, denied their love. Now the only feeling he inspired was fear. Jason had never questioned his parentage and Maggie had never brought it up. Jim had been a good father, treating Jason exactly as if he’d been his own child and Maggie had promised never to reveal the truth. It was a promise she intended to keep.

  “Good night Nick,” she forced out, holding the door open, “Have a safe trip back to ah… Colorado isn’t it?” she questioned hopefully, refusing to back down even though her insides were shaking.

  “All right Maggie, I’ll go, but I’ll be back,” he told her softly, the look in his eyes pinning her. Suddenly he laid his large palm against her cheek.

  “I know things have been difficult for you and I’m trying to understand how you must be feeling, but this is far from over Maggie and it’s best you realize that right now. I’m not thinking to clearly at the moment, but based on a gut feeling, I’d say you have a lot of explaining to do.”

  Maggie nodded and silently closed the door as the only man who had the power to destroy her life walked off into the night.

  Chapter Twelve

  Incredible heat penetrated Mason’s consciousness. At first he merely kicked off the covers and rolled farther away from Rebecca. Not understanding the source of such warmth, he sought only to avoid it. Pale light filtered through the gap in the bedroom drapes directly into his eyes and he flung up an arm to shut it out. He finally came awake to the howling wind and the sound of sleet hitting the window. The chill of the room drove him back under the heavy quilt as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He remembered holding Rebecca in his arms as they both dozed off, now the heat radiating off her small body brought him fully awake as he realized something was very wrong. Propping himself up on one elbow he laid his hand on her forehead almost flinching when he came into contact with her burning brow. Hopping out of bed he circled to her side and placing both hands on her shoulders, he shook her slightly.

  “Rebecca, Honey, can you hear me?” he whispered, fear clutching his heart.

  Her only response was a low moan. “Sweetheart,” he tried again, fighting panic. Mason had never been sick a day in his life. He had no experience dealing with illness beyond what he’d seen on television.

  The hoarse sound of her voice when she squeaked out ‘thirsty’ terrified him further and jumping up off the bed he flew to the kitchen and hurried back with a glass of cool water.

  “Here baby, sit up a little”, he encouraged, trying to support her and guide the water to her lips at the same time. For a moment she seemed to come awake and took several small sips, but immediately afterward she drifted back into unconsciousness.

  Mason got off the bed and began to pace the small quarters. God she was burning up. Thrusting his hand through his hair he wracked his brain. Fever, what do you do for a fever? Were you supposed to keep them warm or try to cool them down? He was amazed at his own ignorance. The later seemed the more logical of the two, but he knew she needed medical attention. Throwing his clothes on Mason stopped only long enough to place a quick kiss on her dry cheek. Running into the living room and snatching up his coat he opened the front door, cursing when the biting wind almost drove him back. When he saw the two feet of snow piled up against the door frame, he had his first idea of how hard it might be to get her out of here. The heavy fall of snow was now covered with a coating of ice and the yard looked like a glossy white lake. Stepping up onto the snow Mason grabbed the porch rail and tried to keep his balance. The truck was only several feet away, but buried up to the wheel walls. It was covered with a solid sheet of ice and proved extremely hard to reach. Falling several times before he made it, Mason was now sweating profusely. The doors were frozen shut and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t free them. Slipping and sliding he made his way back to the cabin, taking off his jacket and putting his near frozen hands under his arms to warm them.

  No telephone had been a plus when Mason had first considered his plan, but now it came back to haunt him. The isolated area, the lack of communication with the outside world had turned into a nightmare. He wracked his brain trying to remember if he had seen any lights from neighboring places but the driving snow had made visibility almost nil. Going into the kitchen Mason filled a basin with water and found some towels. Rebecca tossed and turned on the bed, mumbling incoherently. The twin spots of color on her cheeks accented the paleness of her face. Pushing back the covers, and pulling aside her robe, Mason began to bathe her with the cool cloths. Hour after hour he worked, replacing the towels when they became warm.

  Rebecca fought him, moaning when the cold hit her fevered body. Sometimes she would look directly into his eyes as if she were aware of what was going on, and the accusation he saw there brought a lump to his throat. This was all his fault and he knew it. He’d kidnapped her, dragged her out into a storm without a coat and taken her miles away from anything resembling a town where there might be a doctor.

  Mason was sweating profusely. He’d built up the fire in the main room, wanting to keep the air warm even as he worked endlessly to cool her skin. At noon he forced some broth down her throat aware of the very real threat of dehydration. How long could anyone have a fever like this and survive he wondered, burying his head in his hands. He had pulled up a chair next to the bed, using the bedside stand as a table.

  Rebecca alternately slept and ranted, talking about things that had happened years ago as if they happened yesterday. She talked about her father and he heard the voice of a hurt little girl. It amazed him that despite her condition her recollections were very clear. Mason made several more trips out to see if he could get in the truck, taking a lighter with him and trying thaw the doors, but to no avail. The weather hadn’t let up at all and he finally admitted it was useless. Even if he could get the truck started, the chances of them getting out to a main road were slim at best. They were well and truly stranded.

  He had been sure he’d taken care of everything. They had enough provisions to last a week and the wood supply would see them through even if they lost power, but he’d never figured on Rebecca becoming ill. Hoping he was doing the right thing, Mason returned to the bedroom and resumed his vigil, trying to cool Rebecca down.

  The hours ticked by slowly, each one bringing her temperature a little higher. The thought that he’d put Rebecca in this dangerous position tormented him. She’d accused him of being overbearing and treating her like a child and he had. It was his stupid idea that had gotten them into this and not one of her hair-brained schemes.

  Darkness fell early and with it Mason became more convinced that Rebecca’s fever would never break. Crushing up two aspirin he mixed them with applesauce and forced her to swallow it. Crying softly, Rebecca struggled to obey him, choking but finally getting them down. Mason murmured encouraging words to her as the evening wore on, trying to convince himself that she would be all right.

  Sometime during the night, Mason dosed, laying his head on the side of the bed. It was four in the morning when he next looked at his watch, rubbing his eyes wearily. Rebecca seemed to be somewhat cooler he thought and sleeping more peacefully. Crawling up onto the bed he lay back and closed his eyes but he did not sleep again. At six o’clock he got up and stumbled into the kitchen, dumping out the stale coffee and putting on a fresh pot. He a
dded more wood to the dying fire and headed to the bathroom. A stranger looked back at him as he splashed cold water on his face. Gone was the arrogant man he’d been two days ago. In his place was a man, haggard and bleary eyed. Two days growth of beard made him look even worse but he didn’t take the time to shave now.

  He had placed the person he loved more than anyone in the world in grave danger and he could hardly look himself in the eye. He’d always been the one who accused Rebecca of acting impulsively and irresponsibly, but this macho man plan might yet cost him more than a relationship, much more. Unable to bear the thought of losing her, Mason hurried back into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of strong coffee. For the first time he understood what she’d been talking about when she’d voiced her fears on marriage. Maybe it was better not to count on tomorrow because right now he wasn’t all that certain they had one. It had crossed his mind several times during the endless hours of the night that she could die out here, with only his slim store of medical knowledge. There might not be time to ever put a ring on her finger, plan for their future, and see the birth of their children. A life could be snuffed out in a heartbeat and there would be nothing anyone could do about it. He could see some sense in words that had previously sounded morbid, yes, but certainly like an excuse to avoid a commitment. Rebecca could often cut to the heart of a problem in an instant. She didn’t go through life with blinders on, but acknowledged the risks and took her chances knowing them. There was a lot to admire in a woman like that.

  Gulping down the last of his coffee, Mason refilled the basin and returned to the bedroom, ready to do everything he could to make sure Rebecca had the chance to tell him what a jerk he’d been.

  An instant after he’d placed the cold cloth on her head, it came whipping back into his face, causing him to jump in surprise. The force behind the attack had been slight and he wondered if she was delirious again.