by Linda Warren
“Men are so predictable,” Sarah said.
“What do you mean?”
“They have to be the stronger ones, never letting their pain show. Greg was just like that. When we first started dating, he fell and bruised his knee while he was apprehending a drug suspect. He was hurting like hell, but I could see he didn’t want me to fuss over him, so I pretended nothing was wrong and that seemed to make him happy.”
Serena curled her feet beneath her. “Ethan’s like that, too, but it’s much more extreme because of his hip injury. He’s very sensitive about that, but I thought we’d finally gotten around it. I just want to be with him—to help him through this.”
Sarah pushed popcorn around in the bowl. “What was Ethan doing in Dallas today? I’m glad he was here, but I was just wondering.”
Serena sat perfectly still. She hadn’t even thought of that. What was Ethan doing in Dallas? “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “We never had a chance to talk about it.”
“I’ll bet he came to make sure you were okay.”
“If he did, he didn’t act like it when I saw him.” Serena gazed at the TV, but all she saw was Ethan’s face. “I love him, Sarah, but when he shuts me out it hurts, and I can’t figure out how to deal with him.”
Sarah placed the bowl on the coffee table. “Oh, I think you’ll find a way. Now let’s go to bed. This nightmare’s over and maybe tonight I can sleep.”
As they walked upstairs, Serena couldn’t help thinking that her nightmare was just starting—a life without Ethan.
THE NEXT MORNING Serena called the hospital to see how Ethan was doing. The nurse said he was much improved, which meant he’d be leaving for Junction Flat today. She ignored the urge to call his room; Ethan didn’t want her there and she had to respect his wishes, no matter how hard that was. The next move was Ethan’s. She’d decided that last night. She had to wait for him to want her—but oh, God, she wasn’t good at waiting!
The doorbell rang and she went to answer it, since Sarah was still sleeping and Gran had left for an early bridge tournament. She opened the door to find a man and woman, somewhere in their late fifties, standing there. Serena had seen them in the courtroom yesterday, and she wondered nervously what they wanted. Were they reporters?
“Can I help you?” she asked in a guarded voice.
“We’re sorry to disturb you, Sarah,” the woman said. “We’re Marion and Fred Larson, Greg’s parents.”
“Oh.” Serena was shocked for a second, then quickly composed herself. “I’m Serena, not Sarah, but please come in. I’ll get Sarah.”
“Thank you,” they said, and followed her into the living room. “My, you look so much alike,” Marion added. “Did Greg ever see you together?”
“No, but that’s a long story and I’m sure Sarah will tell you about it. Have a seat and I’ll go get her.”
Serena rushed upstairs and found Sarah curled up in a chair with Greg’s picture in her hand. “You’re awake,” Serena said, not entirely sure how to tell her.
“Yes, I just got through talking to Celia. She seemed upset when I called her last night and I wanted to reassure her that I’m okay.”
Serena sat on the bed facing her. “I’m sure she’s relieved that your testimony is over.”
“Yeah.” Sarah touched the photo. “I did it for Greg. As scared as I was, I had to do it.”
“You did great.” Serena smiled. “And speaking of Greg, there’s—”
Sarah raised her head. “What?”
“His parents are downstairs.”
“They are?”
“They want to see you.”
Sarah jumped up and ran to the mirror. “Oh, I look awful.” Frantically, she began to brush her long hair. “Maybe I should put my hair up.”
“You look fine. Come on.”
“Are these slacks okay?”
“They don’t care what you’re wearing. They just want to talk to you.”
Sarah bit her lip, frowning. “I’ve never met them. You have to come with me.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Serena got up from the bed. “They’re waiting.”
They walked downstairs and into the living room. Sarah stepped forward to shake their hands, but Marion hugged her and Sarah hugged the older woman back.
“It’s so good to meet you in person,” Marion said. “Greg talked about you a lot.”
“He talked about you, too.”
“Thank you for what you did yesterday,” Fred said. “I know it was hard for you.”
“Yes, and I’m sorry you had to listen to it.”
“I had to know the truth about his death,” Marion said in a quavering voice.
“I loved him very much.” Sarah brushed away a tear.
“He loved you, too. He told us many times, and that’s why we’re here.”
“Please have a seat,” Sarah invited. As everyone sat, she asked, “How did you find me?”
“That nice Mr. Garrett told us. At first he was reluctant, but when we explained what we wanted, he agreed.”
“I’m glad, because I’ve always wanted to meet you. Greg said when this case was closed we would. But…”
“I know. It wasn’t easy for us, either, but when our son became a policeman, we knew we might have to face this one day.” Mrs. Larson reached in her purse for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s still painful, but that’s not why we’re here. Greg was very proud of the way you were working so diligently to get your degree. He didn’t make much on a cop’s salary, but he wanted to help you.”
“He did that by just being there.”
Mrs. Larson dabbed at her eyes again. “I’m not saying this right. You see, Greg had a life-insurance policy and we promised that if anything happened to him, we’d carry out his wishes and offer you financial aid.”
“Oh, no.” Sarah shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”
Mr. Larson stood and handed Sarah a check. “The policy was for five hundred thousand. We’re giving you half, like he stipulated. We’re using part of ours to start a scholarship fund in his name at SMU.”
Sarah stared at the check. “No, I can’t. Use this for the scholarship fund, too.”
“Sorry, Sarah,” Mr. Larson said. “It was my son’s last request, and I couldn’t live with myself if I ignored that. Take the money and try to find some happiness in this world. That’s what Greg wanted.”
Sarah still wouldn’t take the check, and Serena could see she was having a difficult time accepting their generosity.
Mr. Larson laid it on the coffee table and Mrs. Larson rose to her feet. “It was nice meeting both of you.” They turned and walked from the room, and Serena hurried to let them out.
When she returned, she stared at Sarah, who seemed to be locked in her own misery. Touching her arm, she asked, “Sarah, are you okay?”
Sarah raised her head. “How can I do this? It’s money from Greg’s death. How can I accept it?”
“Because Greg wanted you to have a better life. He knew how much getting your degree meant to you. It’s a gift from him.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Sarah’s eyes took on a vibrant glow and she picked up the check. “I know exactly what I’m going to do with this.”
Serena smiled. “Pay for your education?”
“Yes, that, too, but I have something else in mind.”
“Like what?”
“Pay off the note on this house.”
“Oh, no, Sarah.” Serena was horrified. “I’ve been meaning to talk to Gran, but with everything that’s been happening, I haven’t had an opportunity. We need to sell the house. That’s the only way to get out of this financial mess.”
“No, Serena, you don’t get to make that decision,” Sarah insisted. “I’m not saying that to be mean, but I never got to grow up here, to live with Gran and with you. Now I can make that happen—and I will.”
“Sarah, think about it,” Serena begged. “This money could open up a whole new
world for you.”
“The world I want is right here.”
“Give yourself some time—that’s all I’m asking.”
“I don’t need time,” Sarah said. “I know exactly what I want, and the first thing we’re going to do is get our great-grandmother’s earrings back.”
“What!”
“You heard me,” Sarah said. “I’m going upstairs to finish dressing, then I’m heading over to the bank while you go to the jeweler to see where we stand on the earrings.”
“I’m sure he’s sold them by now.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows. “Are you with me or not?”
“Sarah.” She sighed her frustration.
They looked at each other. Finally Sarah said, “Greg wanted me to be happy, and getting this family out of debt will make me extremely happy. Please, Serena.”
“Okay.” Serena gave in reluctantly.
Sarah ran up the stairs. Serena sank onto the sofa with a groan. This had to be the real Sarah. The one willing to take risks with a vivaciousness that was hard to resist. Serena just hoped they were doing what was right for everyone—especially Sarah.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ETHAN SPENT the morning with the surgeon and a therapist, who evaluated his arm. He could move his hand, and the doctor said he had good circulation to his fingers. His strength had diminished considerably, but the therapist was confident that in time he would get it back. Afterward he felt better about the whole situation. He made arrangements to see the therapist again, then called home and told them what had happened. Molly was horrified; at Ethan’s request, Travis hadn’t told the family and they hadn’t been listening to the news. Pop asked when he was coming home and he said he wasn’t sure. And he wasn’t. He was so restless that he couldn’t think straight. He had to call Serena or he wasn’t going to have any peace at all. He picked up the phone before he could change his mind.
He took a swift breath when she answered. “Serena, it’s Ethan.”
Serena heard his voice loud and clear, and she almost dropped the phone. “Ethan.” His name came out in a whisper. How are you? Are you in pain? Do you need me? The questions hovered on her lips and she wanted so desperately to know, but she clamped her lips together.
“I called to apologize for last night,” he said.
“You did?” Her chest felt tight.
“I lose my manners when I’ve been shot. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Serena!” Sarah called from upstairs.
Serena put her hand over the receiver and called back, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Is someone with you?” Ethan asked when he heard the muffled sounds.
“It’s Sarah,” she explained, and before she could stop herself, she told him about the money. She wanted to share everything with him.
“That is good news.”
“Yes, for her it is, but she’s insisting on paying off the note on the house. And remember I told you about my great-grandmother’s earrings, which I had to sell so the bank wouldn’t foreclose?”
“Yes.”
“She’s planning on buying them back. I just wish she’d take the time to think this through. This is her money and I want her to do what’s best for her.”
“Maybe she is.”
“What do you mean?”
“What she probably needs now is to feel a part of your life and your grandmother’s. By helping you, she’ll gain confidence and a sense of security. A sense that she belongs.”
“I suppose,” Serena said, still not sure.
“I’d better let you go. I…just wanted to apologize and let you know that my arm will be fine.”
Suddenly Serena became angry. She’d held in all her emotions, all her questions, trying not to mention his arm because it would distress him. But now that he was on the mend, it was okay to talk about his injury. The words spilled out unheeded. “Since you know you’re going to be a whole man again, you can talk to me. Is that it? Well, things don’t work that way, Ethan. You hurt me last night and an apology doesn’t make it better. I just wanted to be with you, offer you some comfort and thank you for saving our lives, but you didn’t want me near you. You didn’t want me to see you in that condition. What you don’t understand is that it wouldn’t have mattered to me if you could never use your arm again. All that mattered was that you were alive. And—” she swallowed “—all I needed was you, but you let your pride take over and you pushed me away. I’m having a hard time with that, because to me, love means accepting people as they are. But you didn’t even think about my feelings, and that’s what hurts the most.”
“Serena—”
“I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly, ending the call. She wrapped her arms around her waist to stop the trembling. What had she done? She immediately picked up the phone again, then slowly put it down. She had to stand by what she’d said. If Ethan felt anything for her, he’d find his way back to her. Then they could talk more rationally. But what if he didn’t? No, she—
“Serena, are you ready?” Sarah’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Yes.” She met her sister at the bottom of the stairs.
“I thought maybe you should go to the bank with me, since this Mr. Wylie knows you.”
“Okay,” Serena agreed unenthusiastically.
Sarah caught her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Ethan just phoned.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I lost my temper and told him how hurt I was about his behavior last night.”
“And from the expression on your face, I’d say you regret doing that.”
“Yes. No. Oh, I just want to go to the hospital and see him, but I can’t do that, either.”
“Why not?”
“Because Ethan has to make the next move.”
Sarah lifted an eyebrow. “Is this a chess game?”
Serena smiled and it felt good. “No, it’s a puzzle, and Ethan hasn’t got a clue about how all the pieces fit.”
Sarah swung her purse over her shoulder. “Does any man ever know?”
“No,” Serena answered, “even when we keep giving them hints.”
“Don’t despair,” was Sarah’s advice. “I have a feeling that someday Ethan will find the piece that’ll make it all fall into place for him—and you.”
Serena hoped so, but she didn’t know how long she could wait for that to happen.
ETHAN STARED at the phone but resisted the urge to call her back. She had a temper to match that red hair, and he deserved every word she’d said. His pride had gotten in the way once again. He had to do something about that, and he had to do it now. There was no other option.
Travis came through the door with Ethan’s release papers. “Let’s go,” Ethan said as he got off the bed.
“Hey, what’s the hurry? We have to wait for the nurse to bring a wheelchair.”
“I don’t need a damn wheelchair. I can walk.” Before he’d finished speaking, a weak feeling overcame him, and he realized he had to accept that he was hurt and needed help. He couldn’t keep pushing people away. Well, his new attitude would begin with getting into that wheelchair, which he did as uncomplainingly as he could manage.
In the truck Travis said, “The apartment’s all clean and ready for you.”
“Thanks, but I need to do something first.”
“What? You’ve just gotten out of the hospital. The doctor said you should go home and rest. And you have to be careful the wound doesn’t start bleeding.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly as Travis pulled into traffic. “Don’t argue with me. I have to do this.”
The urgency in Ethan’s voice reached Travis. “It must be important,” he muttered.
“It’s the most important thing I’ll do in my life.”
SERENA AND SARAH spent the morning at the bank. Mr. Wylie was shocked but very pleased that Sarah wanted to pay off the note. Since the check was so large, they had to wait until it cleared, but Sarah s
et up an account and made arrangements to return and finalize the deal. From there they went to the jeweler’s—and discovered that the earrings had been sold. Disappointment overwhelmed Serena; she hadn’t realized how much she wanted the earrings back. Subconsciously, she supposed, she’d dreamed of wearing them on her wedding day—to Ethan.
They went home and told Gran what they’d done. Gran was happy about the money, but refused to let Sarah do such a thing. However, Sarah said it was a fait accompli and Gran might as well accept it. Gran began to cry then, and they all sat on the sofa crying together. In a strange way, those moments drew them closer than anything that had happened before. They were a family now.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON Mr. Hudson, the jeweler, called. He said that the man who’d bought the earrings was interested in selling them. He’d purchased them as an investment. He gave Serena the address where the buyer was staying, which was a hotel.
Sarah insisted she go and see what the man would take for them. Serena was reluctant, but in the end she went. It couldn’t hurt to ask, she kept telling herself.
The hotel was one of the most elegant in the city, and on the ride up in the elevator, she felt like forgetting the whole thing. For some reason, though, she didn’t turn back. She walked down the carpeted hall to the room number Mr. Hudson had given her. On the door was a plaque that read Honeymoon Suite. Mr. Hudson must have given her the wrong number. The man couldn’t possibly be on his honeymoon and wanting to sell jewelry. Could he? Unless he’d bought them for his new bride and then changed his mind. No, that seemed too odd.
Since she was here, she might as well find out. When she knocked on the door, it opened slightly. It was unlocked. She poked her head into the room and said, “Hello. Anyone here?”
No answer.
She pushed the door wider and walked in. The room was a sitting area, very plush, done in reds, browns and dark green. A huge vase of roses sat on the coffee table. She could see there was something else on the table, but couldn’t tell what it was. Serena moved to back out of the room; she didn’t want to intrude on such a private affair.