In My Dreams

by Muriel Jensen

  * * *

  JACK KNEW IT was pointless for Ben to argue. “All right, Sarah. I’ll see you at the house.” He herded his parents toward the stairs. “Why don’t you come home with me since you have a dinner date next door tonight? Then Ben can go straight to the hospital.”

  When his mother asked him about Sarah in the car, Jack wished he had thought through his offer to take his parents home. “It’s not my business,” she said, “but I’d like to know anyway. Ben seems okay with it, but is he really? The two of you have been so close for so long, I hate to think that anything would come between you.”

  “We’ve talked it out, Mom,” Jack said, alternately watching the road and his rearview mirror to try to judge his parents’ expressions. “We’re okay with each other.”

  “He isn’t heartbroken?”

  “She was never right for him,” Gary said unexpectedly.

  His mother’s eyes widened. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Why not?” she demanded.

  “Because she runs deep and he would just go for what he wanted to do without stopping to tell her. That’s okay if you’re willing to deal with the consequences, which he seems to be. But it isn’t a healthy way to run a marriage.”

  His mother seemed taken aback by his father’s profound observation. Then she asked Jack, “Why did she stop being a pediatric nurse?”

  He told her about her patient’s death and the resultant rift with her love of caring for children.

  “That’s so sad.” Helen sighed. Jack pulled up to a red light and watched her lean her head back against the seat. “She was so perfect today, just what you want to see in a crisis—someone capable and calm.”

  He had to agree.

  Jack escorted his parents to the neighbors’ front door, then crossed the walk and let himself into the quiet house. He exhaled a sigh of relief. He’d done nothing today except sing with the Wild Men, support Sarah in her effort to save Justin and deal with his parents’ questions, but he felt as though he’d done it while carrying a Humvee on his back. He’d learned something profound this afternoon that he had to tell Sarah.

  Not sure how long she would be, Jack made a cup of coffee and sat to read the newspaper.

  “The Wild Men are very good,” Sarah said as she walked into the kitchen an hour later. She made no greeting of any kind, simply that statement, and Jack noticed in confusion that the tone of it was critical, rather than complimentary.

  He looked up from the editorial page and knew instantly that she was in a dangerous mood. She’d tied her hair back, her mouth was set in a tight line and she had that crusty-sergeant air about her.

  “You have to keep rehearsing this week,” she went on, “so you don’t lose that. You’re working together in harmony now and that’ll be a showstopper. The ladies love you.” The way she shot out the words, like bullets out of a clip, that compliment, too, sounded like a bad thing.

  “Thank you.” He watched her drop her purse on the step stool and make a production of rinsing a single plate and cup left in the plastic basin and put them in the dishwasher.

  He wasn’t sure how to read this behavior. She’d been shaken this afternoon after the episode with Justin. And though she’d seemed all right when she’d turned to him for comfort, she’d had time to think about what had happened while taking her seniors home. The afternoon had probably brought back a past filled with painful memories. Memories she’d been so determined not to relive.

  “Want to talk about this afternoon?” he asked, folding the paper.

  “Nope.” She breezed past him to the laundry room and returned with a stack of dish towels.

  “Mom thought you should have a bath and a drink,” he reminded her. “You know, to help relax you.”

  She looked up darkly from putting the towels in a drawer. “Which one of us is the nurse, Jack? I don’t need a bath, and I don’t want coffee.”

  Her mood was darkening. He had to attack this head-on before he lost her altogether. “You are obviously the nurse,” he said. “You certainly proved that today.”

  She continued to fiddle with the towels. “The defibrillator proved what modern medicine can do. That’s what happened today.” She shoved the drawer closed.

  He put his cup down, got up and closed the small distance between them. “I know that must have been hard for you,” he said quietly, turning her to face him, “but can’t you focus on the happy outcome? You saved a kid’s life, Sarah. You can’t tell me you find no satisfaction in that.”

  “I did. I do,” she said, putting her hands on his arms and trying to push him away. He held on. “But it’s hard to explain to someone else the terrifying responsibility of having the live-or-die outcome in my hands. A lot of medical professionals thrive on that. It makes me ill.”

  “Yeah. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’ve been there, and without the expert medical knowledge you have. In the field, we’re all medics.”

  She wrenched her arms away from him. “Yeah, well, I’ve had it with that. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  He turned to lean on the counter beside her. There were only a few feet of air between them, but there may as well have been a stone wall. “I think you just have to resign yourself to the fact that, even if you’re not working in a hospital, whenever there’s a health issue anywhere you happen to be, you’ll be the one everyone turns to.”

  “I’ll keep my nursing skills to myself from now on.”

  “It’s painted all over you, Sarah. And your inherent love for the patient, whoever he or she is, makes you act. You didn’t think twice today. Nobody called you to help Justin. You just ran for the stage and put your skills to work.”

  Her eyes were seeing the scene again. The fear that hadn’t been present then, or at least not something that would rear up and stop her, was upon her now. She knotted her hands together. “I didn’t want to be there.”

  She looked small and vulnerable, but she’d faced her fear today.

  “I think,” he said gently, “that you may as well step up and accept that, scared or not, you’re a nurse.” He hesitated a moment, then asked with a smile into her grim face, “Will you marry me?”

  Her eyes widened in shock, closed, then opened again, as though she feared she had dreamed the moment. “What? Jack, I’m not—”

  “Having children. I know.” He smiled gently at her and put an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll agree to live without them. I understand what that cost you today, and I wouldn’t ask you to do it for me. I love you, Sarah.”

  He was thrown off balance when her eyes filled with tears. They didn’t look like happy ones, either. “Sarah...”

  “I’m sorry.” She tossed her head and sniffed. “I never cry, but loving you has made me do it twice in a couple of days!” She punched him, hard rather than playfully. There was something behind it she wasn’t telling him.

  He took her hand and pulled her outside, the lights at the back of the house illuminating the lawn. He led the way to the fanciful gate his father had installed all those years ago, just because it looked nice from the kitchen window.

  “I’m happy to hear that you love me,” he said, stopping her at the gate. The air smelled of salt and grass and all the perfumes from the South Pacific that traveled on the wind. It was cold. He ripped off his sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. “What I don’t understand is why you’re upset. I thought finding a husband who’d live without children was what you wanted.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Unless it isn’t me you want.”

  “Of course, it’s you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. “But now that you’d do that for me—” she hesitated, a groan vibrating against his chest “—I can’t let you. You’re good with children. You should have them. I love that you’re willing to do that for me, but...no. I don’t want to marry you.
I mean, I do, but I won’t.”

  “Sarah Reed, you’re going to make me insane.” He caught a fistful of her hair and gently pulled her head back. Her sad eyes caught the moonlight. It broke his heart to see her so unhappy. “I’m offering you what you want.”

  “But it isn’t what you want. And that’s as important to me as my happiness is to you.”

  “I love you. The only children I’d want in this world are those that are half you, anyway.”

  She frowned at him. He saw it clearly, even in the dim light. “Children are children, Jack. Anybody’s, any size, any color, eventually they worm their way inside you and make you care. You become so vulnerable, it’s like having ectopia cordis.”

  He blinked. “And that is?”

  “A condition where babies are born with part of the heart growing outside the body.” She shook her head, her lips working unsteadily. “It’s almost always fatal.”

  He crushed her to him, putting his lips to her cheek. “Love gives life, Sarah, it doesn’t kill it. I know loving costs you. The girls and I loved our mother and she disappointed us every time. But I’m still here. And I still want to love. Even if I don’t get the chance to love my child, I’ll love you with everything I have, I promise.”

  * * *

  SARAH CHOKED ON a sob, emotion making every attempt to blind her to good sense. But for tonight, at least, she couldn’t push him away. The day would come when that would be her only option, but it didn’t have to be now. Now she would hold him, let him hold her and let her exo-heart beat wherever it wanted to be.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JACK HEARD HIS parents’ laughter as they said good-night to the Bergs shortly after ten. He left the carriage house and followed them into the kitchen.

  “Have a good time?” he asked.

  His father nodded, pulling out a chair at the table. “Yeah. Patty’s not such a great cook, but she and Gordie are good company.”

  “Gary!” His mother sat opposite his father and scolded him with a look, then laughed. “She just likes to try unique things. Rutabaga, leek and sausage casserole just isn’t something you’d rush toward on your own.”

  Jack took one end of the table. “I don’t know. It’s always been my conviction that sausage can save any dish.”

  His father shook his head mournfully. “Not in this case.” Then he studied Jack with a frown of concern. “So, how’s it going?”

  Jack knew he meant how was it going with Sarah. But he wanted to talk about something else. “It’s going fine.”

  “Then how come you’re here and she isn’t?”

  “Justin having that issue today just brought it all back. She thinks she doesn’t want to have children.”

  His father crossed his arms on the table. “And you do, so you don’t want to be serious about her, but you can’t help yourself?”

  “Not exactly, I asked her to marry me. She’s warm and wonderful and would be a spectacular mother. I’d give up having children if it meant I could have her.”

  His mother looked pained. “Jack. Are you sure about that? I don’t think it would be wise to marry her, hoping that one day down the road she’ll change her mind.”

  “I know. You’re absolutely right. She didn’t make that decision because she doesn’t like kids or doesn’t want to be bothered with them. She made it because it hurts her to see them hurt.” He blew air inelegantly and then ran a hand over his hair, further disheveling his nineties look. “She knows all the statistics about kids living with chronic diseases because, obviously, all she dealt with was sick kids. I’d love it if she could accept that disease could happen, but probably won’t, but if it did, we could deal with it. But she can’t. So maybe I’ll have to be happy being an uncle, provided Ben—”

  His father winced. “That’s not good, Jack.”

  His mother shushed his father. “You can’t tell him what’s good for him. I hope you’re doing the right thing.”

  “Well, right now,” Jack said, “nothing’s good. She doesn’t want to marry me because she loves me and knows I’d love to have children. She doesn’t want to hurt me.” He ran both hands down his face. “Did you ever hear such a mess?”

  “Life is messy,” Gary said. “We all deal with our awful things in our own ways. She respects her fears. You fly in the face of yours, so you have nightmares.”

  “But I’m trying to figure them out.”

  “She’s probably trying to figure herself out. The fact that she doesn’t come to the conclusion you want doesn’t mean she isn’t working at it.”

  That was true. A difficult thing to accept, but true. He looked from one parent to the other. “You adopted me to torture me, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.” His father pretended exasperation. “Ben complained so much when I did it to him, we needed another kid to pick on.”

  “Sounds like I got here just in time to defend myself.” Ben came to the table and pulled out the last chair, resting his arm in the sling on the tablecloth. “I always know what to do. That’s why I hate being told.”

  His mother said flatly, “Sometimes you’re wrong.”

  Eyes filled with laughter; Ben maintained a straight face. “I maintain that life is often wrong and when I’m doing the right thing, that makes it seem wrong.”

  Helen turned to Gary. “That’s the part of him that takes after your side of the family.”

  “Incidentally,” Ben added, “Justin is doing great and they’re stepping up the implantation of that thing—it’ll be done tomorrow.”

  They all agreed that was good news.

  Jack cleared his throat and looked from one parent to the other. “You know how much I love both of you.” Then he met Ben’s eyes and added, “Not you.”

  “Right.”

  “Yes,” his mother said warily.

  “You understand about my wanting to find Corie and Cassie?”

  “Of course.”

  “I was telling Dad earlier, Mom, that I think I’ve located Corie.”

  His mother leaned toward him, clearly pleased and excited. He answered all her questions. His sister was in Texas, he had an address, and that was about all he knew. But he wanted to go in person to meet her.

  “You go find that girl right now,” she said.

  “Corie’s last address is on the Texas-Mexico border.”

  Helen said, turning to Ben, “That’s not always a safe and friendly place, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” Ben replied. “But he’s going to have a cop along.”

  “You’re going, too?” his mother asked. “But your arm—”

  “Yes.” Ben put his good hand up to stop whatever protest Jack intended to make. “I’m fine, Mom. And I’m better with one arm than he is with two.”

  “Yeah.” Jack made a scornful sound. “Someday we’ll put that to the test. I’ll be fine on my own, Ben.”

  “You’ll be better with me.”

  His mother groaned. “I’m going to buy that hardware store for the two of you myself.”

  “I speak a smattering of Spanish.” Sarah’s voice came from the living-room doorway. She stood there, face free of makeup, hair tied tightly back, wearing Jack’s sleep pants and sweatshirt. “I’d like to come. Everything for the fund-raiser is under control for a few days.”

  Ben frowned at Jack, who frowned at Sarah. He’d been planning on a quiet meeting with a young woman who might be his sister. What if she didn’t want to meet him? What if she didn’t care? He’d been hoping to experience that possibility in private.

  “Just agree, Jack,” his father advised. “If you don’t let them go with you, Mom and I are going. Do you really want Backseat-Driving Beulah on your trip?”

  Helen gasped. “Backseat-Driving Beulah?”

  “Can you be rea
dy tomorrow?” Jack asked Ben.

  Ben nodded. “I travel light.”

  Jack turned to Sarah.

  “I don’t have many clothes to pack, anyway. How long do you think we’ll be gone?”

  “Couple of days. If it isn’t her, it won’t take long. If it is, maybe I can talk her into coming back with me to meet the rest of the family.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a Thanksgiving?” Helen put her hands together in anticipation. “Both your families together in the same place at the same time.”

  “It would.” He’d dreamed about that for years, but it might be more than anyone had a right to ask for. Still... There was nothing to lose by asking, anyway.

  * * *

  JACK DROVE THE dusty road to Querida in the silver Navigator he’d rented at the airport, Ben in the passenger seat, reading the map, Sarah in the back, unusually quiet. He caught a glimpse of her in the rearview mirror. She’d pushed up the sleeves of the sweatshirt she wore because the air was hot and heavy and the air conditioning wasn’t working well. Neither was the GPS. Her hair was caught back in a high ponytail and she wore the Cavalry cap he’d given her.

  He was a little worried about her. He’d given her everything he could give—especially the willingness to live a childless life—but she didn’t want him to do it. So they still hadn’t resolved anything. He’d talked to her about that this morning when they were getting in the car and Ben had stopped to dig a map out of his bag.

  “Please don’t worry about us on this trip,” she’d said. “I just came along to provide moral support. Some things are too hard to do alone. I’m sure that’s why Ben’s here. He is a cop, but you’re every bit as tough as he is. He just doesn’t want you to do this by yourself. Just think about Corie, and we’ll deal with you and me when we get home. Okay?” She’d kissed his cheek and climbed into the back.

  Now he dealt with equal parts terror and excitement. It wasn’t as easy to put the matter of Sarah and him aside as she seemed to think. He wanted to resolve his past, but that wouldn’t help him if he couldn’t have Sarah in his future. He turned his focus to keeping the car on the bumpy road.