“Good idea. We’ve also discussed the need for digitalized PACS X-rays, and a new MRI. A new CT scanner. A few circular beds for treating decubitus ulcers. An updated cardiac monitoring system. More equipment for rehab. We’ve got a long list of equipment and supplies for the O.R. and the lab.” Jill paused, her pen just halfway down the list in front of her. “Most of it is impossible, yet this hospital hasn’t had any improvements for years. Leland,” she added with a slight shake of her head, “insists that we need to landscape and update the facade, so patients will at least feel we’re in the twenty-first century. I’d rather spend the money where it counts. That’s assuming there’s any money to be found.”
“My opinion shouldn’t count for anything,” Connor said. “But I agree, though I won’t be here long enough to see it through.” He shifted in the booth to look at Erin. “Have you found out anything more on funding?”
The reminder of his plans to leave jarred her, and it took a moment for the rest of his words to register.
“Yes. Yes, I have.”
He was so close that she could feel his warmth and could detect the faint, masculine scent of his aftershave. Maturity had carved such striking cheekbones and deep, sexy dimples in his tanned face. Coupled with those silvery eyes and long, dark lashes—Lord, have mercy.
Suddenly aware that she’d been staring, she riffled through her papers to cover the awkward moment. “I, um, spoke to another hospital here in Wisconsin. They were able to pass a county levy of half a percent sales tax for five years, and have been using it strictly for capital equipment and major building repairs. Another hospital administrator said that they received a half-million-dollar USDA grant for their state-of-the-art X-ray system.”
Her eyes widening, Grace craned her neck to see the numbers on the page. “Is that kind of money still available?”
Erin nodded. “We have some additional options. Our local auxiliary is willing to work on a variety of fund-raisers, and I’m wondering if the local garden club might be willing to take on a beautification project for the grounds.”
Grace gave a low whistle. “We’re talking major money here.”
Connor nodded. “In this business, you have to keep up with the technology and stay competitive, or you fail. Frankly, it’s a wonder that Blackberry Hill Memorial is still in business.” He gave Erin a wry smile. “Some of the other docs are having a… minor disagreement regarding where funding should go, but at least most of them concur that improvements are needed. Politics and pet projects don’t mean anything to me. I’ll help for as long as I’m here.”
Relieved, Erin gave Grace, Jill and Connor a smile of gratitude as they all stood and tossed a pile of dollar bills on the table to cover the check.
But all the way back to the hospital, the words that replayed through her mind were not about changes at the hospital. “I agree,” Connor had said, “though I won’t be here to see it through.”
They were merely neighbors. Barely friends. It didn’t matter if he stayed or moved away. Did it?
CHAPTER EIGHT
“GOOD HEAVENS!” Erin faltered to a stop just outside the movie theater on Saturday night and stared at the sheets of rain pouring off the overhanging marquee. The kids huddled next to her. “I didn’t hear about this on any forecast.”
But even if she had, she probably would have braved the elements. Ever since that last breakfast meeting with the doctors, she’d been putting in ten-to twelve-hour days at the hospital, working on grant writing and fund-raising projects, and overseeing the auxiliary’s efforts to add a tax-levy issue to the November elections.
Haley’s babysitting had been a lifesaver, but after two weeks of late hours, it definitely had been time to take the kids out for some fun.
“Cool,” Drew announced. He stuck his hand into the rain. “Maybe we’ll have floods.”
They’d all worn light jackets, and now Lily wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s cold.”
“Might even snow tonight,” said an elderly man behind them. “The fourth of October is a mite early, but you never know this far north.”
Snow. Even in good weather their snug cabin was a long drive from civilization. In bad weather… Erin shuddered, considering the steep, winding lane leading up from the highway. “We’d better hurry, before our road turns to mud. Are you kids ready?”
They made a fast dash to her van a half block away. Her hands wet and numb with cold, Erin fumbled with her car keys and dropped them twice before managing to open the driver’s-side door and hit the unlock button so everyone could pile in.
“Good thing we left Scout inside the garage,” she murmured as she turned on the ignition and slipped the heater up to high.
The wipers beat back and forth, sweeping away sheets of moisture. Glistening black asphalt blended with the rain and the night into impenetrable darkness that the headlights barely pierced. She hunched over the steering wheel, trying to make out the edges of the road ahead.
It was so dark that even the random houses and businesses along the lakeshore and the solitary streetlamps marking the intersections were invisible.
No—not just because of the heavy rain, she suddenly realized as she glanced in the rearview mirror. The entire town behind them was dark, as well.
“I think there’s a power outage in town,” she announced. “If ours is off, too, we’ll start a nice blaze in the fireplace and roast marshmallows. We can pretend we’re camping. Does that sound like fun?”
“If we can get home,” Drew grumbled.
In the front seat, Lily looked over at Erin. Reflecting the dim glow of the dashboard lights, her face was even paler than usual. “What if our road is too muddy and we can’t make it?”
“Well, everything seems to be dark back in town, so we’ll just keep going. If we get stuck up on our little road, we should be close enough to make a quick run for it.” Erin forced a note of cheer into her voice. “This can be an adventure—just like the movie we saw tonight. Right?”
“But those people were actors. It was fake,” Drew said.
“Then think of the pioneers, with their covered wagons. They were outside all the time, without much shelter.”
“And most of them died on the way.”
“Drew!” When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw him sink lower in his seat. “Aspen Road’s only a mile away. We’ll be okay.”
But five minutes later, when the headlights finally picked out the small sign for their turnoff, she wasn’t quite so sure.
The minivan fishtailed and skidded as they left the paved road. Its tires spun in the mud not twenty feet from the highway, in a low-lying spot. And a half mile farther, at the bottom of the first steep rise, the tires bogged down and turned uselessly when she tried rocking the van between Reverse and Drive to gain momentum.
Erin draped her wrists on the steering wheel and stared out into the rainy darkness. “If we could’ve made it past this one place, we would’ve been okay,” she sighed. “But there’s just a half mile to go. That’s around six city blocks, and the rain is bound to let up in a little while so we can walk.”
She turned up the heater, then searched for a radio station, finally finding one with static-filled reception that inexplicably promised “clear and cold” for the entire weekend.
“We’ll be in front of our nice, warm fire soon, guys,” she promised after a few minutes.
From the back came the sound of whispers, then Drew cleared his throat. “It doesn’t, like, matter if the wood is sorta wet. Right?”
She turned in her seat to look back at him. “You didn’t bring in any logs today?”
“Uh…no.”
Images of a cold, damp and dark cabin made her shiver. At least there were flashlights, but how long would the batteries last? “That’s one of your chores, Drew. Making sure that the log bin by the fireplace is full.”
“Yeah, well…I forgot.”
“So we have no logs to burn. And the furnace igniter and thermostat won�
��t work without electricity.”
From the silence in the backseat, she figured Drew and Tyler were contemplating that last bit of news.
Bright headlights flashed behind them, disappeared behind a wall of trees, then filled the interior of the minivan with blinding light. Startled, Erin swiveled in her seat and saw those headlights pull to a stop so close to her bumper that they disappeared beneath her tailgate.
The boys looked back, then met her gaze with wide eyes, their mouths open.
“That guy almost hit us!” Tyler whispered.
Lily whimpered. “What if it’s somebody with a gun, and he—”
“Hush, Lily.” Her own fear rising, Erin hit the door locks, then reached over and laid a protective hand on the child’s arm. “No one else lives on this road. It has to be Connor.”
At a sharp rap on her window, she jumped.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing out in this weather?”
It was Connor’s voice, thank goodness. Relief washed through her as she pressed a button and rolled down her window a few inches. “We’re stuck. We were going to walk the rest of the way when this lets up.”
“You haven’t been listening to the weather reports in the last few hours? This is just the start.”
She bristled. “We were in a movie, and the weather was fine before we left.”
He leaned down and peered over her shoulder at the kids in the back. “Come on—you can all fit in my Tahoe, if you don’t mind being cozy.”
Over the past two weeks he had stopped by, now and then, to fix odds and ends around the house, such as leaky faucets and troublesome drains, and occasionally dropped off a treat for Scout or something for the kids. One day, he’d even put up a basketball hoop on the big telephone pole near the house, so the kids would have something to do. Thoughtful things, little things.
Now, the boys didn’t hesitate to race for the backseat of his Tahoe as Connor swept Lily up in his arms and carried her, with Erin close behind. In a few moments they were buckled in. Throwing his vehicle into low gear, he inched around their van and then carefully navigated the treacherous road.
He slowed at the drive leading to their house. “None of us have electricity because there’s a transformer out in town. How’s your wood supply?”
“Wet.”
“Thanks to Drew,” Lily muttered.
“What about your dog?”
“He’s closed in the garage,” Tyler piped up from the backseat. “He has water and food in there, and a nice box with blankets.”
“You’re all welcome to come up to my place,” Connor said. He glanced at Erin, then concentrated on the curvy road ahead. “The forecast changed out of the blue. The temp is dropping to the low twenties tonight, and now there’s a prediction of up to four inches of snow. My place isn’t fancy, but at least it’s warm. I’ve got dry logs and a backup generator.”
Of all nights, she’d chosen this one for a trip to town. If Connor hadn’t come along… Erin closed her eyes briefly. She and Drew would’ve been okay in a chilly cabin, but Lily and Tyler’s health were far more fragile. “Thanks so much,” she said quietly. “I really appreciate this.”
He shot another quick glance at her, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a brief smile. “No problem—I’m just glad I didn’t rear-end your minivan and send you all to the hospital.”
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID THIS place wasn’t fancy,” Erin breathed as she turned around slowly to study the great room.
Banks of windows filled three walls. The soaring, steeply pitched ceiling rose a good three stories above them, its massive log framework glowing like amber in the light of the fireplace below.
Above the main-floor kitchen and bedrooms, a spacious loft held several more bedrooms, a den and a whimsical cupola with windows on all sides, similar to their cabin. In the spacious kitchen, another fireplace opened into a family room, where the kids were bent over a Monopoly game.
“This is truly beautiful.”
“It is, in a rustic way. But no one has ever taken the time to bring in a decorator.” Connor leaned over to arrange another log on the fire. “Ed didn’t care, and I’m not staying.”
“I’ll bet the view is incredible in daylight.”
He straightened, and braced one arm on the mantel as he watched the flames flicker. “This hill is high enough that on a good day you can see Canada on the horizon.”
Through the skylights overhead, she could see lightning snake across the sky. The wind had picked up, battering the house with sheets of rain.
Here inside, the warmth of the fire felt so good against her chilled skin. “Your uncle must have a big family.”
“Intended to, but it didn’t happen. This was his dream home. His wife hated it. She said the town itself was too isolated and the house too far away from town. She finally just packed up and moved back to Minneapolis.”
“He never remarried?”
“His divorce was very bitter. I think he decided marriage wasn’t worth the risk.”
“Too bad. This would’ve been a fabulous place to raise a family.”
“For someone, maybe. When I move on, Ed will probably sell up and head south. He’s been complaining about his arthritis and these cold northern winters.”
Erin reached for a colorful patchwork afghan draped across the back of a rocking chair, wrapped it around her shoulders and snuggled down on the sofa facing the fireplace. “It’s a shame, seeing this place leave your family. Don’t you want to settle down again someday?”
“After Stephanie…” His voice trailed off, and he abruptly pushed away from the mantel to pace along the wall of windows to the north.
Now and then he turned to look toward the sounds of the kids laughing in the other room, and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he still mourn for his late wife?
“I can only imagine how hard it’s been for you,” she said softly.
He moved like a caged animal, silent and restless and angry, and even in the flickering light she could see his muscles bunch and release beneath the snug fabric of his navy knit pullover.
“She was a distant cousin of mine, Connor. I missed a lot of years in her life, but I cared about her.” Erin patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Please. Just sit down by the fire and warm up for a minute.”
After a long silence, he moved to the couch and sat next to her with his head bowed, his forearms braced on his thighs and his hands clasped.
“I should’ve been able to save her,” he said, his voice so low and raw that he seemed to be talking to himself.
Erin hesitated, then tentatively reached over and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It was a car accident. She was alone, going too fast on a dangerous road. You couldn’t have done a thing.”
He was silent for so long that she figured he wouldn’t say anything more.
“She was drunk.”
Erin stilled, disbelief pouring through her as she remembered the elegant, sophisticated girl Stephanie had been in college. But then again, there’d been that fateful day at their uncle Theodore’s funeral, when she’d obviously had a few too many. She’d started talking…
And then she’d made Erin promise to never, ever tell her secret.
“Didn’t you know about her little problem?” He gave a humorless laugh. “I suppose not. No one did. She’d been a social drinker in college and had always liked her cocktails in the evening. It just got worse and worse. And then when she got pregnant…”
Shock hit Erin like a pitcher of ice water. “P-pregnant?”
“Yeah. Two years ago.”
Confusion swirled through Erin as she sorted through his words. “She was pregnant…when she died?”
“Pregnant. An emotional mess. Drank when she thought I wouldn’t catch her, but I found bottles stashed everywhere.” His voice lowered, filled with bitterness. “What kind of woman would do that to an unborn child?”
Perhaps a woman reliving her old guilt…with regrets about a previous
pregnancy she’d never dared talk about. “I know she had some problems with depression.”
“That one word sounds so simple, doesn’t it? But it was hell for her. She couldn’t stay away from the bottle. We fought more often than not. I stayed home from work. Begged her to take better care of herself. I hid the car keys, poured liquor down the drain. I even got her admitted to a rehab unit, but she refused to stay. And then…after an argument one night, she grabbed the keys to my car and took off before I knew she had them.”
“My God.”
“I’ll never know if that last drive was a suicide, or if she really hated me so much that she had to drive eighty on a mountain road to get away.”
“I’m so, so sorry.” Erin moved closer, hugged him tighter.
“You asked why I don’t want to settle down and fill this place with a family. Well, now you know. The thought of going through hell again just isn’t very appealing.”
“But you did everything you could.” Erin bit her lip, her oath to Stephanie warring with the side of her that felt his pain. “Maybe…there were other things that had happened in her life. Very difficult things…”
“What, in her charmed life, could have been so bad? She grew up wealthy. She was popular. Beautiful.” He straightened, then leaned back against the sofa with a disgusted shake of his head. “Hey, once when she was drunk and angry, she told me that she’d planned all along to marry a doctor, and that’s why she married me. Great romance, there. Right? What Stephanie wanted, she got.”
But not everything.
Yet what was the point of adding to his guilt? Decisions had been made. Stephanie was gone. And nothing could change the past. “Then maybe it’s just time to move on,” Erin said softly.
He rolled his head against the cushions to look at her. “I’m not sure why I told you all of this.”
The firelight cast shadows beneath his cheekbones, changed his eyes to a turbulent deep gray. With the sensual cut of his mouth and dark sweep of his brows, studying the lines and planes of his face nearly took her breath away.
Almost a Family Page 8