Wings Of The Dawn

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Wings Of The Dawn Page 5

by Tracie Peterson


  Curt’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit, but without turning around he asked, “Why should I believe that? I asked you to stay out of it in the first place. You didn’t respect that request, so why would you respect any other?”

  “Because I don’t want this coming between us.” Erik sat down and put his head in his hands. “I didn’t want to do what I did. I knew it would mess up your plans, and yet she was so needy and so…well… helpless.”

  Curt turned on this. “Cheryl has never been helpless.”

  Erik looked up and met his expression. “Then you don’t know her as well as you think you do. She’s very vulnerable and not at all the pillar of strength that you seem to believe her. A strong woman wouldn’t have given in to Grant Burks. Christy didn’t.”

  Curt frowned. “She very nearly did. Oh, not on his suggestions that she become his mistress or anything like that.

  But she very nearly kept his cocaine activities to herself in order to protect Sarah and, to some extent, to protect me.”

  Erik laughed. “Christy isn’t a good example of a strong person, either. I think we both know the charade she plays when she’s worried someone is going to get too close.”

  Curt smiled tightly at this, but his face instantly sobered. “That was no reason to interfere.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I have no justifiable reason. It wasn’t life or death, except maybe in Cheryl’s own mind. But it was a matter of earning her trust, and Curt, I wanted that trust very badly.”

  “Apparently so. It must have meant a great deal if you were willing to threaten our relationship.”

  “Has it?”

  “Has it what?”

  “Threatened our relationship?”

  Curt sat down behind his desk and shook his head. “Of course not. But honestly, Erik, you can’t go around putting yourself in the middle of DEA business. Cheryl might be able to put this whole thing to rest, but she can’t relay that information to me if I can’t get to her in person. I don’t want to hurt her. I’ve always cared deeply about her, and a part of me will always love her like a sister.” Curt blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m tied to her in more ways than one, and there is a great deal of excess baggage that we both need to rid ourselves of. Some of it has nothing to do with the DEA.”

  “Like you killing Grant?” Erik asked seriously.

  “It wasn’t my idea. I’ve searched my heart in this matter, and I didn’t instigate the shooting. Grant did. Furthermore, I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted him brought to justice.”

  “I can’t say that I’m not glad he’s dead,” Erik responded, easing back in the chair and crossing his arms against his chest. “I wish I could be sorry that he died, but I’m not.”

  “I didn’t say I was sorry he was dead, either. I am sorry I had to be the one to pull the trigger.”

  “As I recall from the paper and Christy’s story, there were plenty of people shooting that day. In fact, when Grant was killed, you were busy rescuing Cheryl.”

  Curt nodded. “Yes, but as far as Cheryl is concerned, it might as well have just been me alone firing the gun.”

  Erik could well imagine that the sad-faced blond would hold that very opinion. “She feels like you took everything away from her. Your investigation caused her father to come under unbearable pressure, and your organized DEA rendezvous put an end to her happily-ever-after plans with Grant and her baby.”

  “You aren’t telling me anything I haven’t already gone over a million times in my own mind. The investigation started out as a need for revenge, but it turned around to be a search for justice and something that would bring about good. I just didn’t want my parents to have died in vain.”

  “But Cheryl can’t understand that. In honoring your parents, you dishonored hers. Leastwise her father. She wouldn’t even let me speak your name.”

  Curt winced. “I’m way too personally involved for my own good. I’ve argued for my position with the DEA in this case because I knew things that would take years to teach someone else. I also knew Cheryl, or thought I knew Cheryl, and I felt that it would afford me an edge that no one else could have. I’d proven over and over that I could remove myself from the personal aspect, but maybe that’s no longer possible.”

  “Are you saying that you’re going to remove yourself from the case?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He sighed. “Even if I do, I have to resolve this matter with Cheryl.”

  “I guess I understand that,” Erik answered. He let the silence re-main between them for a few minutes before adding, “I intend to tell Cheryl that I’ve come clean with you. I won’t interfere again, but I want you to know that neither will I abandon Cheryl. I feel like I made real progress with her the other day, and I want to play on that and see where it can go from there.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Curt said flatly. “I think you should stay out of her life altogether.”

  “I respect your opinion, Curt, but I’m not going to do that.”

  Curt slammed his hands down on the desk. “You are going to cause more problems, and I’m not going to sit back and let it happen.”

  “You have no right to tell me who I can befriend. Get real, Curt. You may be an officer of the law, deep into investigating this woman, but you aren’t going to boss me around like one of your subordinates.” Erik felt his own anger piqued for the first time that day. He had come to Curt in apologetic humility, but now he felt only wounded pride.

  “I’m telling you, Erik, it’s only going to hurt her more.”

  Erik got to his feet. “You don’t know that. You want to pretend that you have some inside track to the woman just because six or seven years ago you shared marriage plans. Well, I’m telling you that you know nothing of the Cheryl Fairchild who exists today. She’s hurt, vulnerable, and very, very angry. I’m not going to let her bear that alone while you and your buddies rip her apart in hopes of exposing the truth about her father.”

  He stormed out of the house, mindless of the fact that Curt called after him. He paid no attention to Christy’s pleading that he come tell her what was going on and instead jumped into Ole Blue and ripped out of the drive.

  Erik drove aimlessly through town until he found himself suddenly turning down Cheryl’s street. In his heart he might have known all along that it was to Cheryl he was driving, but in his mind he argued the futility of it. Nevertheless, he turned into the drive and shut off the engine before he could change his mind.

  He rang the bell and waited, watching and wondering if she would open the door to him. He thrust his hands deep into his jeans pockets and tried to force himself to remain calm. Soon, the door handle rattled and turned, and Cheryl appeared with a look of expectation on her face.

  “Erik,” she said and her expression fell.

  Erik found her notably changed, although still quite dowdy from the Cheryl Fairchild he’d heard so much about. She wore a simple cotton skirt, which flowed down to her ankles in a pastel flower print, and a plain white cotton top. She looked airy and summery and better than he’d seen her since she’d entered the hospital. Maybe, just maybe, she was finally recovering emotionally.

  “You look great!” Erik exclaimed. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Look, Erik, I asked you not to come around anymore.” She glanced past him to the drive as if anticipating someone.

  “You gonna have company?”

  She nodded stiffly. “Yes, and I’d rather you go.”

  “Who’s coming?”

  “What?” she questioned, obviously distracted.

  “Cheryl?”

  She looked back to him and frowned. “A man from the Denver Post is coming to pick up some information and photographs.”

  “What information?”

  Cheryl glanced down, seeming embarrassed. “I got a call yesterday from a man who is doing a feature on my father.

  The Post is naming my father Denver’s man of the year.”

  “Did you confirm that?”r />
  Cheryl’s head snapped up, and she appeared quite hurt. “Why? Don’t you think my dad deserves such a title?”

  “I just think something like that ought to be checked out before handing personal items over. Did he ask you for a statement?” Erik asked suspiciously.

  “He wanted a full interview, but I told him no.”

  “And did he accept that for an answer?”

  “Look, stop giving me the third degree. You aren’t my brother or the law, so stop asking so many questions.” She was clearly agitated, and Erik didn’t want to further alarm her. In his mind a million possibilities were playing themselves out. Who was this stranger, and was he acting on the up-and-up with Cheryl?

  “Well,” Erik said, taking hold of her arm and leading her back into the house, “I refuse to leave until after he comes and I feel certain he intends no harm.”

  Cheryl stared up at him in stunned surprise. “What are you doing? Let me go!” She jerked away, and Erik shrugged.

  “Have it your way, but I stay.”

  “Fine!” she declared and crossed her arms against her chest.

  Erik grinned. “Glad you’re seeing it my way. Now, how about I fix us some lunch? I was supposed to have barbecue with my family, but I had to leave rather abruptly.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she answered flatly and went to the front window to lift the curtain just enough to look out.

  “Too bad,” Erik replied. “I’m fixing us something anyway. I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  She said nothing, so he went off on his search. Something about the entire matter set his teeth on edge, and he had just reached the kitchen when the doorbell sounded.

  Turning on his heel, he started to head back to the living room when Cheryl’s screams rent the air and made his blood run cold.

  seven

  Erik ran the final steps to the foyer, where a strange man held a small microphone in one hand and clicked away with a camera with his other. Cheryl held her hands up to her face, screaming with every click and whir of the 35mm.

  “I just want to interview you!” the man declared over and over. “What was your involvement with Grant Burks? Were you involved in trafficking drugs with your father and Mr. Burks?”

  Erik pushed his way between Cheryl and the man and grabbed the camera.

  “Hey, you can’t do that!” the man exclaimed.

  “Oh, yeah? Watch me!” Erik pulled the back open and exposed the film, tearing it from the safety of the camera and throwing it to the floor. He handed the stunned man his camera, then reached out for the mike. “Give me that tape recorder.”

  “Look, I just want an interview. She owes the public an explanation.”

  “She doesn’t owe anyone anything!”

  Cheryl was still screaming and crying, and Erik’s only thought was to remove the man and shelter her from further humiliation. Taking hold of the man by his shirt collar, Erik dragged him to his car.

  “Give me the tape,” he demanded, and the man finally gave up his fight and handed it over.

  “You can’t keep the world from learning the truth,” the man said as he got into his car. “Sooner or later, someone is going to get her to talk. I figured it might as well be me as to be someone else.”

  “Well, you figured wrong, all the way around. If you ever show up here again, I’ll personally take care of the problem.” He knew he was angry and figured that the rage was evident on his face. He hoped he looked imposing. Apparently he did, for the man quickly nodded and started the car.

  Erik hurried back into the house to find Cheryl still crying. Her hands were still protecting her face from view, and his heart went out to her. Closing the door, he took her in his arms and held her close. Her first response was to fight him, but he soothed her with soft words and gentle strokes.

  “I won’t let them hurt you,” he whispered over and over. “You’re safe now. I’m here, and I won’t go until you feel better.”

  She grew still in his arms and, sobbing, put her head upon his shoulder. “He didn’t even care about my father,” she said.

  “I know.” Erik led her to the sofa and helped her to sit.

  Cheryl gripped his arm tightly, and he had no other choice but to sit closely beside her. “He said he wanted to give Daddy an award. How could he be so cruel as to use my father to get to me like that?”

  “People can be cruel.”

  She sobbed into her hands, and Erik pulled her against him and held her until her tears were spent. While she cried, he asked God to give her peace. He prayed, too, that God would use the tenderness he felt for her to bring her a better understanding of Jesus Christ.

  “Nobody believes that my father was a good man. CJ thinks he killed her parents. Curt believes he headed up a drug ring. But Erik, they’re wrong. My dad was a loving, generous man. He wouldn’t have hurt anyone, especially not Doug O’Sullivan. He loved that man like a brother, and he would have given his life in Doug’s place if that would have been possible.” She looked up at Erik, seeming to need assurance that he believed her words were true.

  “I’ll bet he was a great dad.”

  She dried her tears and nodded. “Yes, he was. I could always count on him to be there for me. No matter how much I messed up. Now there’s no one.”

  “That’s not true, Cheryl. I’m here.”

  She looked at him, narrowing her eyes as if considering the validity of his words. “But you don’t even know me.”

  Erik smiled. “Perhaps I know you better than you give me credit for.”

  “Why? How? I was a stranger to you and your family until last year.”

  “I don’t think there has to be a lot of history between people in order to care for someone. I fly down to Mexico and South America almost every spring or summer with a group of Christian doctors. I help with the lab work and physical therapy, and I find I lose my heart to the people I work with. They need someone to care, and I guess God just gave me the ability to be that person.”

  Cheryl sat back and folded her hands. “Don’t lose your heart to me, Erik Connors. I’m no good, and I know that. The only man who ever really loved me was my father, and apparently I wasn’t enough to keep him here.”

  “Don’t say that,” Erik said softly. He turned to read the expression on her face and found such sadness that without thinking he pulled her back against him. “Everyone is deserving of love, and if I want to lose my heart to you, that’s my business.”

  But even as he said it, Erik felt something stir inside. He was losing his heart to Cheryl. Maybe not falling in love, but in a deep abiding compassion that made him want to protect her from the world and its hurts.

  Cheryl said nothing, seeming content to lean against him. Erik wondered how he could persuade her to let him be her friend. Even if friends were all they could ever be, Erik knew that he wanted it more than anything else. “Tell me about your father,” he said without thinking.

  “He wasn’t involved—”

  Erik stilled her. “I didn’t ask you to defend his position in this mess. I asked you to tell me about him. Tell me what it was like growing up the daughter of Ben Fairchild. Tell me what you loved the most about him.”

  Cheryl pushed away, and Erik was surprised by the smile on her face. “That’s easy. He always believed in me no matter how badly I goofed things up. He was never condemning—oh, maybe now and then. I had some trouble when I moved back here from Los Angeles. He wasn’t too happy about my engagement. It was kind of sudden, and I didn’t have a good track record with men. So I stayed in one of the downtown hotels and even lived a while with CJ O’Sullivan. I mean Aldersson.”

  “But you reconciled with your father?”

  “Of course,” she replied matter-of-factly. “He could never stay upset for long. Pretty soon he was calling me and saying that if I wanted to marry this man, he would have to respect my opinion of him.”

  “Sounds like he trusted you to be smart.”

  “Oh, I don�
�t know. Maybe it was just that he loved to indulge me,” she said rather sadly. “When my mother died, he had to fill the emptiness with something, and I was just as handy as anything else. He spoiled me and pampered me with all kinds of good things. We traveled and went on shopping sprees, and we always confided our deepest dreams and se-crets to each other.”

  “How was it you ever found the need to leave home?”

  Erik realized he’d asked a very personal question and quickly added, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “It’s all right,” Cheryl said. She finally appeared calm and collected. “I guess with Daddy’s spoiling came his overprotectiveness as well. He was smothering me, and yet, I couldn’t bear the idea of hurting him. I told him I was desperate to see the world and try my wings and that I had to leave Denver and get away from the painful memories.”

  “What memories?”

  “CJ and her parents,” she said without thinking. “They were in a terrible plane crash, but of course, Curt—” She paused at the name. Drawing a deep breath, she continued, “You, no doubt, know all about that.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, CJ became a recluse and withdrew from everyone and everything. Curt and I had broken up. He’d left Denver for parts unknown, and CJ wanted nothing to do with me. Daddy seemed so distraught over Doug and Jan O’Sullivan’s deaths that he sort of withdrew as well. He wasn’t himself for many years after that.

  “Anyway, I convinced him that I needed space to grow up and a different setting in which to have fun. He was so consumed by the business and how to deal with all the problems that he gladly let me go. Well, maybe not gladly. But he gave me an unlimited bank account and access to company jets and housing throughout the world. What girl could have asked for more?”

  “It must have seemed quite a fairy tale.”

  “For a time,” Cheryl answered. She looked at him quite seriously and gave him the briefest hint of a smile. “But all good things come to an end, right?”

 

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