by Marta Perry
Oh yes, you did, she thought, and was instantly ashamed. She owed Mrs. Landsdowne courtesy, if nothing else. “I’m not offended. There’s just nothing I can do.”
“I suppose you know that Jacob’s father tried to talk to him about this.” She shook her head. “Really, I should have known those two couldn’t talk without putting each other’s back up.”
“I wouldn’t know about that.”
“No, of course you don’t know Jacob’s family, his background.” She gave an indulgent smile. “Jacob and his father are too alike. Both of them so gifted, so intense. Naturally they disagree, but really, they belong together.”
She was out of her depth, and she knew it. She could hardly argue that she knew Jake better than his family. She could only say what she believed to be true. “Jake doesn’t seem to think so.”
“He’s hurt, poor boy. He’s had a difficult time, you must know that.” She reached out to grasp Terry’s hand. “Now he has a chance to put all that behind him and take his rightful place—the only place where he can use his talents to the fullest.”
“I don’t—”
“Now, don’t say no.” She pressed her hand persuasively. “You must understand, Ms. Flanagan. My husband is not a well man. He needs Jacob to return, but he’s too proud to tell him that. You’ll tell him, won’t you? You don’t have to try and persuade him of anything. Just tell him what I said.”
She had a sense of being swept away on a riptide. “Why don’t you tell him yourself?”
“It’ll be better coming from you.” She patted her hand and turned away. “You’re his friend. I know you don’t want Jake to spend his life regretting that he didn’t respond when his father needed him. I know you’ll do the right thing.”
She turned and walked away before Terry could come up with a single thing to say.
Because there wasn’t anything to say. She watched the outside door close behind Jacob’s mother. If Jake’s father was seriously ill—well, she couldn’t take the responsibility of keeping that from him. But somehow she doubted that their friendship was going to survive everything she had to tell him.
Jake tossed the remains of his frozen dinner into the trash and wandered into the living room. In his first days in Suffolk, he’d welcomed the privacy and isolation of his evenings off. The condo was his sanctuary. Now he felt oddly restless, and he thought he knew the cause.
Terry. He glanced toward the telephone. He hadn’t seen her in two days, and her absence made a bigger hole in his life than he’d have imagined possible.
She’d tried so hard to help him over that business with his father. He felt his jaw tighten at the thought of his father’s visit, and he had to deliberately relax it. Terry hadn’t understood their relationship. Well, how could she, growing up with the family she had? She probably didn’t know how lucky she was.
Still, he appreciated the fact that she’d tried, the fact that she’d cared. Terry, with that warm, open heart of hers, was proving to be a force to be reckoned with in his life.
In spite of his determination to concentrate on nothing but his job, she’d drawn him in—into the clinic, into her caring about Manuela’s future, even into her family. Knowing her had even made him more aware of his relationship with God. Who would guess that one little red-haired whirlwind could have such an effect?
He was actually reaching for the telephone when the doorbell chimed. Somehow, even before he swung the door open, he knew who he’d see.
Terry had changed from her uniform into a denim skirt and sunny yellow top, with a sweater slung over her shoulders against the evening cool, a reminder that fall was on its way.
“How did you manage that?” He gestured her in and closed the door. “I was just thinking of you, and here you are.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” Her fingers twisted the sleeve end of her sweater. “I wanted to talk to you, and I thought it would be better away from the hospital.”
“Sounds serious.” But he didn’t feel serious, not when just looking at her brought a smile to his lips.
She frowned, as if considering. “I’m not sure how serious it is. I have a couple of things to tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like either of them.”
She looked like a guilty kid, standing in front of the principal’s desk. He’d never minded inspiring a little fear in his subordinates, but somehow he didn’t want Terry looking at him that way.
“Let’s sit down and have it out, whatever it is.” He led her to the sofa and sat down next to her. “Come on. Spill it.”
She folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Your mother came to see me today at the firehouse.”
He couldn’t do anything but stare at her. “My mother. Are you sure?” He knew how ridiculous that was as soon as he said the words.
But at least it made her smile a little. “Late fifties, silver hair, better dressed than anyone who’s ever come into the firehouse, I’d guess. You have her eyes, don’t you?”
“I suppose so.” The collision of what he’d considered two separate worlds boggled the mind. Still, since his father had failed, it was reasonable to expect his mother to try. That was how they always worked. But…“Why did she come to see you? How does she even know about you?”
Terry shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I asked her how she knew we were friends, and she just said that naturally she kept tabs on her son.”
“I don’t know what’s natural about it. They cut me out of their lives pretty thoroughly when I disappointed them.” Anger smoldered along his veins. Who in Suffolk could be his mother’s source of information? Dr. Getz?
“I tried to get out of talking to her. Really I did. She just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Her distress touched him, and he put his hand over hers. “It’s not your fault. I know what my mother is like. If she wanted to say something, you wouldn’t be able to stop her.” He managed a smile. “You’re too well-brought-up to be outright rude, and even that wouldn’t stop her.”
“I still didn’t like it. Feeling as if we were talking about you behind your back.”
“What did she want?” He thought he already knew.
“She wanted me to persuade you to accept your father’s offer.”
“How did she think you could do that?”
Terry shook her head, obviously distressed. “I don’t know. I told her no, of course.”
“But you’re here.”
“I couldn’t keep it from you. She said that you and your father always disagree, but it’s just because you’re so alike.”
“Alike? I used to think so. Now I know that’s the exact opposite of what I want to be.” Once the words were out, he looked at them in astonishment. He’d never thought of his feelings toward his father in just that way.
Terry’s face was somber. “She said—well, she implied—that your father is seriously ill. That he really needs you to come home, but was too proud to tell you.”
“Terry—” How did he explain this to her? People like his parents were out of her realm. “They’ve been doing this my whole life. They each have their own way of getting me to do what they want. This is just another example of that.”
“How can you be sure?” She clasped his hand in both of hers. “What if he really is sick? You can’t just ignore it, even if you decide you can’t do what he wants.”
Her passion touched him. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Because I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.”
“I know.” He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, seeing the flood of warm color where they touched. “But why does it matter to you?”
It probably wasn’t fair to put her on the spot that way—to ask for a declaration of caring from her before he was ready to do the same.
She met his gaze steadily. “Because I care about you. I want what’s best for you.”
“Terry—” His voice choked a little. “I don
’t deserve that kind of caring.”
A smile trembled on her lips. “I can’t help it.”
He pressed his palm against her cheek, letting the silk of her hair flow across his fingers. She was so warm, so giving, and he was drawn to her as a freezing man seeks the fire.
He lowered his lips toward hers, and even while telling himself that he shouldn’t, he kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet against his. She leaned into his kiss with such trust and tenderness that his doubts slid away as if they’d never been.
She pulled back, so suddenly that his hand still touched her cheek. She shook her head, eyes troubled, soft curls moving against his hand. “I can’t.”
Easy—take it easy. “Why? We’re both free, aren’t we?”
“It’s not that.” She drew away from him, running a hand through her tousled hair. “It’s just—you’re not going to feel like kissing me when you’ve heard the rest of it.”
Somehow he doubted that anything could take away his longing to hold her. “Maybe you’d better tell me, whatever it is. Did you agree to kidnap me and ship me back to my mother?”
She didn’t smile in response. “I went to see Matthew Dixon.”
“Dixon—I thought we were going to let Andy handle that.”
“Andy hasn’t done anything. I’m not sure he ever would.” Her eyes brimmed with sudden tears. “I’m sorry. Dad always says I rush in where angels fear to tread. I thought I could make him see how important it is to Manuela that her parents stay.”
“It doesn’t sound as if you succeeded.” There was little point in getting angry with Terry. She’d only done what was in her nature to do. He couldn’t accept the fullness of her loving heart for himself and deny it to others.
“At first he seemed glad I was there.” She frowned. “It was rather odd, as a matter of fact. He was alone upstairs, and he couldn’t find his glasses. Apparently he can’t see well enough even to get around the house without them.”
“And you helped him.” Of course.
She nodded. “He acted as if Andy had hidden his glasses on purpose. But then he turned around and insisted Andy was in charge of the migrant farm workers, and he refused to interfere.”
“And he was angry at your interference.” Angry enough to complain to the board?
“That was yesterday afternoon. Surely if he was going to make a complaint, he’d have done it by now.” Terry obviously knew what his immediate thought would be.
“Let’s hope so.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t look so upset. If necessary, I’ll talk to Dr. Getz about it. He has influence with the board and with Dixon.”
“You’re not angry?”
“No.” Surprisingly, he wasn’t. He stood, pulling her up with him. “But I think maybe you’d better go. Being alone with you here isn’t the greatest thing for my self-control.”
Her dimples showed. “Or mine.” She started toward the door, then turned back just as she reached it. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things more difficult for you.”
“It’s okay.”
She studied his face, as if to be sure he was telling the truth. “You will call your mother, won’t you? Just talk to her.”
If he didn’t, Terry would take the burden of that on herself. “I’ll call. I promise.” But he wouldn’t promise to believe everything he heard.
“Good night.”
He wouldn’t cross the room to her, because if he did, he’d end up kissing her again. “Good night, Terry. Don’t worry so much. Everything is going to work out.”
But when the door had closed behind her, his smile slid away. Everything is going to work out. He just wished he could believe that.
Terry smiled at the six-year-old who’d come to the clinic for a colorful bandage on a scraped knee. “There you go, buddy. Next time look before you run.”
The little boy flashed a smile when Manuela translated the words. “Muchas gracias,” he said, and trotted happily toward the door.
Manuela shook her head disapprovingly, the single braid of her hair bouncing against her shoulders. She’d started wearing her hair that way after commenting on the braid Terry usually wore when working.
“He did not need to bother you with that. He just wants to show off to his friends that he was treated at the clinic.”
“That’s fine.” Terry soaped her hands thoroughly. “That’s what we want, you see. To have all the children feel comfortable about coming to us.”
“I see. I did not think of that. But most of us will leave in a few days. There probably won’t be a clinic at the next camp.” She didn’t ask the obvious question, but it was there in her dark eyes.
Terry dried her hands slowly, buying time. She hated to have to tell Manuela the truth, but the girl had a right to know. It was her future, after all.
“I’m sorry, Manuela.” She touched her shoulder lightly. “I talked to Mr. Dixon myself, but I didn’t have any success in getting him to agree to keep your father on. I wish I had better news for you.”
The girl’s eyes went bright with tears, but she didn’t let them spill over. “It’s all right.” She lifted her head, as if trying to say that it didn’t matter. “I knew it was too much to hope.”
Terry’s heart twisted. It shouldn’t be too much to hope that a smart girl would have a chance at an education. Manuela was such a hard worker. She deserved better than bouncing from camp to camp for the next few months, falling further and further behind in her schoolwork.
“I know most of the crew will be going to North Carolina next, and then working their way south.” There was no way of knowing what Manuela would think of Mom’s idea without asking her. That was the first step, in any event. “If it were possible for you to stay here without your family to attend school until they go back to Mexico, would you want to do it?”
Hope flared in Manuela’s face, but she seemed to force herself to tamp it down. “How could that be? Would the government let me stay with someone else? Who would I stay with?”
“I don’t know about the legal situation. My cousin Brendan is working on finding that out. But if it is allowed, my parents would invite you to stay with us and go to school, if you wanted to.”
“I would want, yes. But my mother—I don’t know how she would get along without me to help her. And my father depends on me to speak English for him.”
She was obviously torn, and Terry could only honor her for thinking of her family’s needs first, instead of her own desires. For that matter, she felt torn, too, not knowing whether what she was suggesting for Manuela was the right thing.
Please, Father, guide both of us to make the right choices.
“You’d have to decide that. Talk to them about it, too. But until we know if it’s legally possible, maybe you should wait.”
Manuela nodded. Maybe she was thinking that this, too, was an impossible dream.
“Whether this works out or not, I want you to know that you have friends here who want to help you. Will you believe that?”
Tears glistened in her eyes again. “I will. Thank you.”
Before she could say more, the clinic door opened. The way her nerve endings jumped to attention told her it was Jake almost before she looked. He stopped at the registration desk, greeting the volunteers, before sauntering casually in her direction.
No, not so casually. She could detect tension in the way he moved, in the fine lines around his mouth. She waited until he’d spoken briefly to Manuela, until the girl moved away to help someone else.
“Is something wrong?”
Please, don’t let this be a problem that I caused. Maybe that’s selfish, but I don’t want to be a source of trouble for Jake. I want to help him.
“Not wrong, exactly.”
He took the schedule of volunteers from its hook on the wall and seemed to be studying it, but she could see that his mind was preoccupied. Obviously he didn’t want to appear to be having a private conversation with her during clinic hours. She began tidying up the first aid sup
plies.
“But not right, either?” she asked quietly.
He frowned down at the clipboard in his hand. “I talked with my mother. My father has been having some heart symptoms. Nothing as serious as she implied to you, but certainly he should slow down. He keeps a surgery schedule that would tire a man half his age.”
It was a struggle to keep her voice even, ensuring that the anxiety she felt didn’t show in her voice. “I suppose she asked you to come back to Boston.”
He nodded. “That was the crux of it. The startling thing was that my father came on the phone and actually apologized for his manner the last time we talked. My father never apologizes.”
“Maybe discovering that he’s not made of steel had a humbling effect on him.” She had to think of what was best for Jake, not of her longing to have him stay. “I guess he realizes that he needs you.”
Jake’s lips tightened. “He doesn’t need me. Any bright young neurosurgeon would be delighted to come into his practice. He wants me because he’s always wanted to build a dynasty.”
Her heart hurt for him. He was still wounded over his family’s rejection of him when he needed them most. No wonder he found it hard to consider going back now.
“You can’t be sure of his motives. I know your relationship has been painful, but maybe he really does regret his actions.”
Don’t go, Jake. That was what she really wanted to say. Don’t go. Stay here, with me.
“I don’t know.” Jake’s frown deepened, setting harsh lines in his face. “I’m trying to be fair to them, but it’s not easy. This whole Christian forgiveness thing is a tough one.”
“I know.” Maybe you have to forgive yourself, first. She wanted to say it, but she feared his reaction. “What did you tell them?”
“I said I’d think about it.” He shot her a look that was baffled, almost angry. “How am I supposed to know what to do? I turned my life and my career over to God, but He doesn’t seem to be providing any answers.”
“He will.” She believed that with all her heart. “Pray and wait. He’ll make it clear, in His time.”