“In here.” Although feeble, her voice was easily recognizable, happy even when in pain.
Drake turned into the first doorway. His sister rested on the couch, the lone piece of furniture in the room. Her soft brown hair had been half-pulled back and braided. Loose waves rested down the side of her jaw. A faded quilt covered her lap, tucked up underneath her arms. Hollow cheeks were shadowed with fatigue and thin from hunger.
The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
He bit back a curse. The last thing she needed was him losing it. Drake moved into the living room further. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Emma. You’re looking good.” Why did she look so wan? So hungry? Had the cancer spread so fast she couldn’t eat?
Emma’s eyebrows arched. Her smirk threw him back into their childhood. She’d always been able to laugh. Even with needles poking in her arms and chemotherapy sucking her energy. “No, I don’t. I look like hell. How dare you come in here and so blatantly lie.” Her words, while weak, contained her old humor.
She patted the cushion beside her knees, which she adjusted against the back of the couch, giving him room.
All potential discomfort faded. “Well, acknowledging that you look like hell is the first step. Where are your nurses?” Drake settled onto the couch beside her, taking her hand in his. Her once elegant hands looked emaciated, too thin for her young age. He studied her. The question begged asking. “Where’d my sister go?”
“What do you mean?” Emma tried to draw her hand from his, but Drake refused to let her go. Her fragility wasn’t lost on him, and neither was the fact that he could hold on easily while she had to extend extreme effort to even try.
He watched her, as if the bat of an eyelash or the wiggle of an ear would tell him everything he needed to know. “You know exactly what I mean. Why’d you give up? Why aren’t you fighting this? You beat it before.” Heat from his hand warmed hers. At least he could do that for her. “And don’t tell me you’re not quitting. There’s not an IV, there’s no PICC line in your chest. There’s no evidence of any medical procedures having been done recently.”
“I’m tired. I’m tired of beating it. I’m tired of fighting. Tired of being weak, exhausted, hungry, and always wondering. I’m sick of being afraid. I’m sick of being tired.” Emma looked down. She avoided his gaze, looking everywhere but at him. Finally she met his eyes with hers. She offered a half smile. Her dry lips had split at the side, the red bright against her pale skin.
“Bull. With how happy you’ve supposedly been with Nate? I don’t buy it. My sister is a fighter. What’s going on? And don’t lie to me.” Drake pierced her with his gaze and refused to back down. She would tell him. Or he’d know the reason why.
Her smile faded. Goosebumps grew on her arms and she twisted her frown into a martyr-type grimace. “We didn’t find out soon enough. Money was... well, it’s always tight, isn’t it? Anyway, I hadn’t been in for a checkup in over a year and then I started feeling...” She sighed. “Tired. I’m always tired though, you know?” Her words broke on a tiny sob. “How was I supposed to know anything was different? They were supposed to have gotten it.”
Her thin shoulders moved in a jerky form of a shrug, but could’ve just been her body rejecting her efforts to hold in her tears.
“How long have you known?” Drake folded his other hand over the top of hers. He willed his energy and health into her.
“It’s been quite a while now. Almost four months, maybe? Mom and Dad still don’t know. I don’t want to deal with them, too.” Emma scratched her nose, tried making light of it. “You know how Mom can be.”
“Mom and Dad don’t know? Are you kidding me? What... What are you doing? What can be done? They’re going to flip out. You have to tell them.” Just because he hadn’t spoken to them in years didn’t mean Emma had the right to cut them off. Especially when they’d always sacrificed so much for her health.
A realization dawned on him and he tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. “You can think again before I’m going to call and tell them for you.”
The sudden silence left the room quiet enough to hear the whispering breath of the diffuser on the window frame, the thin tendril of oil-filled steam curling and twisting into the air.
Emma ignored his outburst as if he hadn’t spoken. “I wanted to see you before... anything else. I’ve been waiting. Nate called...” She put her other hand in his, sighing as his hands wrapped around hers. “You’re warm.”
“Yeah, Stefanie said he called me. What six weeks ago? I never heard from him. What number was he using?” He still wasn’t sure what happened with that one. His uncle would never hide something like that from him. At least not attempts from Emma. His parents, maybe. Uncle Will had a strong tendency to lean toward protecting Nate.
Maybe they had the wrong number. Or maybe Nate never actually called. Drake wouldn’t put it past him.
“Mom and Dad gave us the most recent one they had.” Her face contorted and she clenched, then released her spasm like movements and gasped for air.
She’d always hid the pain so well. Drake hated that about her. Why couldn’t she hurt like normal people? Feel the pain like normal people? Probably because she’d always been in pain.
Drake cleared his throat softly. “I get that you don’t want to fight. Put that together with the stage of your illness, and I’m not surprised you’ve given up. I can’t even imagine your pain. I’m sure we still have time, Emma. Come live with me. I’ll buy you the best nurses and medical care and medicine and anything else you want. No strings.” He could offer her so much more than that deadbeat husband of hers. “Come on, it’s not like you’re really happy here with him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m extremely happy with Nate.” Emma’s old determination shined through the weakness on her face. “I’m not leaving my husband, Drake.”
Drake clenched his jaw. He spoke through gritted teeth. “I can afford to fix this. You fought for less when you were younger. If you’re so happy with him, then come live with me until you’re all better. Then you can come back,” he glanced around, trying not to display his derision and all its sharp edges of judgment, “to this.”
“You won’t be able to understand. Nobody understands. The doctors said I’m too riddled. There’s a reason there’s no Stage V, Drake. Stage IV is as high as it goes because that’s as bad as it gets. I might have been able to do something when they first found out.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think I was only Stage III then, but it was already pushing IV.”
She stared past his shoulder for a moment, then refocused on his face. “I’ve already accepted this.” Her mirthless partial laugh had less enthusiasm than her words. “I’m the only one who has, I think. It’s really clear in my head what’s going on. I can accept this course because there’s a lot more going on than just the cancer. The cost of everything, what it’s doing to Nate, he can’t have anything that I want to give him.”
Drake didn’t interrupt as she spoke. She obviously didn’t have anyone to explain herself to. She wanted to be heard, but maybe no one was listening.
“Do you realize he wanted eight children before he and I got married? Eight. I can’t have one. He wanted to run his ranch. But he can’t. Because I am using up too much money for medical expenses. So he and his cousins have to work as ranch hands for other people. Other ranches, Drake. Do you understand how awful that is?” Tears welled in her eyes.
“If Nate loves you as much as you say he does, or even half as much as Mom and Dad think he does, none of that matters.” Drake considered his sister for a moment. He’d been there when she went through all of her chemotherapies growing up, all of the tests, the results, the drain and fatigue on their parents.
“I can’t fight anymore, Drake.” Her tear-laden admission wrenched at his heart.
When she said fight, she meant battle and all the loss that came with it.
They stared
at each other for a moment, lost in memories.
Emma pulled her fingers from his grasp, wiping at the moisture on her cheeks. “Do you remember that time in Seattle at the Children’s Hospital? Mom and Dad forgot to feed you, because they were so busy talking with the doctors about my results? How about the time we didn’t get a Christmas because I was in the hospital and Mom and Dad didn’t have the money?” She turned it back on him, grabbing his hand in hers. “Do you remember? Because I do.”
Leaning forward, she pierced him with her gaze. Her words vehemently tore through the whispering wind breaking through the cracks in the windows. “Nate isn’t the only one suffering. I’m not the only one suffering. I’ve seen your suffering, Drake. I’ve seen it. You can’t hide from me. Your sacrifices have not gone unnoticed. I refuse to do this to anyone else, simply because I want to live a little bit longer with zero quality of life.”
Drake closed his eyes, squeezing them tight. He hadn’t cared about anything he’d lost when he was younger, just so long as he didn’t lose his sister. And now here she was asking him to let her go. What was he supposed to do with that?
“What you want me to do? I don’t want you to give up just because of things people have had to do for you. We all love you too much for that.” Drake had been there, he’d seen the pain. He knew what she’d gone through. Had to be harder as an adult when she was more aware of the procedures and the pain and ice cream couldn’t fix everything.
Emma considered him. Leaning back on the cushions, she met his gaze. Complete calm smoothed her features except for a slight pinch to her eyes that she’d always had from constant pain. “I don’t have a future. Not if this is what it’s going to be like. I’ve done this my entire life. I don’t want to keep doing it. This isn’t a way to live.”
“So what are you going to do? Just quit?” Drake stared at his hands. “How can you do this to Nate? I don’t like the guy. I mean let’s be honest. But that doesn’t mean he deserves this. I don’t know anybody that deserves this.” He looked up meeting her gaze. “Especially me.”
Emma closed her eyes. The long drawn-out silence was tense and regretful.
She opened her eyes again, tears welling within them. “Drake, this is not about you. I have to watch out for myself. All those years fighting this sickness, this disease, was never for me. It was always for them-Mom and Dad, Nate, his family. You. But never me. I hate the needles. I hate the hospitals. My whole life has been this disease. This is a blessing. I need you to see this as a blessing. This is forcing me to accept what my body has been trying to tell me my whole life.”
Sniffing, she lifted her chin. Her eyes darkened and she straightened her shoulders. “I love Nate more than I can say and I love his family. The last couple years has made me realize that shackling them to this disease is not the way I want to live my life. It’s not how I want to be remembered.”
Drake’s heart sank. She wasn’t going to give in. She was stalwart on this one. He could see it. Even now. She’d accepted the prognosis of the final Stage and she wanted everyone else to accept it as well.
He nodded, slowly. “Okay, I can see where you’re coming from. Just know that this is not going to be easy on anyone. Whether you think it is or not. While you believe that you’re setting them free, you’re actually going to chain Nate to a lifetime of sadness and regret. Just remember that.” He lifted his gaze and studied her.
He had one last nail to drive into her figurative coffin, even if the appropriateness of the analogy might not be spot on at the time, he couldn’t help visualizing it. “You realize you need to tell Mom and Dad? There’s no fixing this one.”
She shook her head the smallest amount. “No. You do.”
Drake jerked back. “The hell you say. I already said I’m not calling them. I haven’t had to call them this whole time. In years, Emma. Why would I want to do it now?” But a tightness in his chest told him he would do it. At that point, looking at his sister, who was willingly facing death, he’d do whatever she needed him to. Whatever she’d let him do to help her.
He would call. He’d go through the rodeo of Hell for her.
His sister’s whisper dragged across space between them as her energy lagged. “I have two things I need to ask you to do. One, call Mom and Dad. Let them know I’m sick and that I’m not going to fight this one. Ask them to come here.” She closed her eyes and dragged in a breath, licking her lips. “And two, I need your help fighting the family on this one. I need you to stick up for my decision. No matter what. Even though you don’t agree. Promise me.”
She asked the impossible. He couldn’t decide which one was harder. Calling his parents or fighting the entire Montana Trail family.
Stefanie would be the least understanding of them all. Especially when it came to Drake.
He considered Emma’s requests. Her proposal didn’t sound as easy as she wanted to make it. He cocked his jaw to the side. “Dang it, Emma. Growing up with you wasn’t this hard.”
Her laugh tinkled between them. “No, growing up with you was harder.”
They didn’t speak for another minute, just sat there in each other’s company, remembering.
“Drake, I need to know if you can promise me that. I need to have someone on my side.” Her words caught as if she struggled to breathe.
Drake didn’t look away. “Alright, sis, I’ll do both. But don’t expect me to hang around when Mom and Dad are here.”
Emma’s face tightened. “Of course you’ll be here. It’s the whole reason I’m calling them. They don’t need to know that I’m getting sick. They don’t need to see me die. They need to see their son again. The only reason I’m doing this is for you. So you’ll call them, they will come here, and you’ll talk with them.”
Drake jumped to his feet. He paced the room, his boots thudding on the wooden floor. No rugs were seen. Hopefully she had warm slippers to put her feet into. “You’re asking a lot, a lot I’m not sure I want to give.” He thrust his fingers through his hair. The slippery whisper of his suit material was loud in the immediate silence. “I’ll call, I’ll do what you need me to with the family, but I’ll decide later what I want to do regarding them.” He held up his hand. “Don’t push this, Emma.”
Emma shrugged, folding her hands at her waist. “You’ll do it. Now go get your stuff. I’ll have Hannah set up a room for you to stay in. Don’t argue.” She cut him off before he could even start.
Drake hadn’t planned on staying at Bella Acres. He just wanted to rent a room at the hotel in town. The idea of staying with Emma had merit. Seeing Stefanie around would better help him figure out his feelings. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed seeing her.
“I saw Stefanie is still staying here.” He moved to glance out the window, see if he could catch a glimpse of her long dark braid.
“She is. But I’m sure it won’t be long before she finds someone and moves out. She’s a very pretty girl.” Emma laughed, a little spark back in her smile. “I’ve been trying to fix her up with boys in town for a while now.”
An unfathomable irritation welled within him. “Why does she need to be fixed up with anyone? Maybe she doesn’t want to date anybody.” Or maybe she was waiting for him, like he was waiting for her. A man could hope, couldn’t he?
Emma shrugged, settling lower on the cushions. “Maybe. Or maybe she is too stuck on meeting her family’s needs.”
Ironic laughter burst from Drake. He eyed his sister with an all-knowing smirk. “Well, I know how she feels.”
She snorted, the unladylike sound so perfect for what he remembered of his sister. “Don’t even start. You already promised.” Emma rustled the blanks as she shifted on the couch.
He didn’t want to fight. The entire trip had taken more out of him than he’d planned. “I already agreed. I want to add a condition. You have to let me help in some way. I have plenty of resources at my disposal, I need to help.”
“There’s nothing else for you to do.” Emma shook her
head, pursing her lips. She wouldn’t even consider his help for anything. The truth stung.
“Are you rejecting my offer?” Drake couldn’t believe it. After he promised two very difficult tasks, she was going to throw this in his face?
“You offered, Drake. What I asked you to do is all I need done.” Emma turned to rest her cheek on the back of the couch and gaze out the window. “I wish there was a way for you to make it go faster.”
Drake froze. Horror gripping his gut and washing him with an icy blast of shock. “Not doing that. I can’t believe you would even suggest it.”
Emma turned to him, her eyes wide and her mouth in an O. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant I want to stop hurting.” She turned back to rest on the couch, her words fading as she spoke. “I just want to stop hurting.”
But Drake couldn’t shake the feeling her words had stirred. His sister wasn’t a coward. She wouldn’t take that way out. Yet, he’d always assumed she would fight, too.
The only reason she was giving up like she was, was because Nate couldn’t take care of her well enough. He couldn’t afford his wife. He couldn’t do what needed to be done. So Emma had to suffer and die because of the things Nate couldn’t do.
Drake glowered at the empty wall. What else was she being deprived of?
“Now go get your stuff. I’m sure Hannah will make dinner soon.” Emma waved him off, a quagmire of emotions thick on her face. “And, Drake? It’s so nice to see you again.”
Her emotions were rich with feelings Drake didn’t want to inspect too closely. Her words left him feeling less optimistic, like she was saying it was nice to see him again before...
Yet, why would he understand what was running through her? He could barely understand the feelings flooding him.
Chapter 3
Stefanie
Drake Benson. The shock still hadn’t worn off from seeing him step out of one of the most expensive vehicles Stefanie had ever seen.
She huffed into the barn, plopping onto the rickety bench by the back door.
Hidden Trails Page 2