“Don’t patronize me,” Ginger warned. “It won’t work. My conflict with Ray Clyde is my business and no one else’s.”
“Then you’ll be happy to keep it to yourself until after the wedding, right?” Willow’s tone grew slightly sharper.
A familiar, masculine scent of spice alerted Ginger that Ray had reached them. She looked up at him looking down at her.
“Hello, Ginger,” he said quietly.
She nodded, startled at the look of vulnerability in those eyes.
Graham rose from Ginger’s seat across the aisle and greeted Ray, pumping his hand. They were best friends reuniting after a long time apart. It stung. It did more than sting, it stabbed at her.
Her brother had no idea what kind of game he was playing this time, but he wasn’t going to win. If he had some crazy notion of mediating a peace, he was in for a disappointing trip.
FIVE
Ray Clyde had always been able to read Ginger Carpenter’s thoughts in her face. It wasn’t a difficult accomplishment, nor was it even necessary most of the time. Ginger rarely minced words, and she seldom concealed her emotions. She said what she thought.
Today, Ray was glad he wasn’t sitting near her for the first leg of the flight. Judging by the daggers she shot at him with her glare, he might be bleeding profusely by the time they reached Lambert International in St. Louis.
Quiet, watchful Lucy tapped Ginger on the arm.
The daggers left Ginger’s eyes, and that same gaze filled with gentleness and love as she listened to the child.
Ray was lost once again. He had known it would happen. He’d been half in love with the talkative and strong-willed woman since their first meeting. The more he’d come to know her, the more he’d admired her vibrant spirit and caring heart.
But it was also her caring heart that had placed a wedge between them later, when he was forced to make a difficult decision. Ginger had always been passionate about what she believed in—a trait that he found extremely attractive, even though it created complications from time to time.
Ray and Ginger had become good friends during her time in Belarus. They had even shared a few friendly meals together when she was home on furlough, and Ray had enjoyed it much more than was comfortable—he’d always wanted more time with her. He’d known, however, that the clinic she directed in Minsk was the top priority in her life. He’d always honored that priority and admired her dedication to it.
Ray’s place was not in Belarus, but in Columbia, Missouri. Located in the center of the state and the center of the United States, Columbia enabled him to be on a flight anywhere in the country or the world in a short period. This way he could keep his finger on the pulse of GlobeMed.
His personal mission was located right there in Columbia. Young doctors came straight out of med school and residencies in that university town, hungry for work and experience, and idealistic about the future. Ray’s goal was to reach as many of them as possible before their idealism gave way to materialism. His desire was to show as many young doctors as he could the joys of true service.
Yearlong mission trips in places of greatest need—mostly third world countries torn by war and famine—gave these doctors not only valuable experience working with the sickest of patients, but a better grasp of the needs of the larger world that didn’t revolve around a life of ease and luxuries.
If only those young grads would realize what was truly important in life. It was not the size of their homes, or the number of cars, or bank balances they could acquire. Their true calling was to touch and heal the hurting, no matter the financial reward.
Sometimes, in his efforts to reach the most people, Ray knew he failed others. It broke his heart that Ginger thought she had been a casualty of that mission.
After the jet took off and the seat belt light went off, Graham came down the aisle and slid into the empty seat across from Ray.
“That went over well, I think,” Graham said drily.
“Could’ve been worse,” Ray agreed.
Graham chuckled. “I consider it an achievement that she didn’t grab the girls and leave.”
“Definitely encouraging. Tell me something, Graham. Did you ask me to be your best man for the sole purpose of helping me work out the knots between your sister and myself?”
“I asked you to be my best man years ago, remember? After my divorce, when I was staying with you. I told you if I ever got married again, you would be my best man, and you said I would be yours. So now you need to give me a chance to return the favor.”
Ray gave him a look. “That’s what I thought.”
“Ginger’s frustrated, Ray. I’ve tried to keep her busy at my clinic, and she’s been working some hours at the Hideaway Hospital when the girls are in school. But I know Ginger. She’s restless. She’s never come to terms with what happened last year. I’d like to see her do that.”
“I thought you had her working with you at your free clinic.”
Graham sighed and sat back, shaking his head at the flight attendant with the beverage cart. “That isn’t the kind of challenge she needs. It isn’t as satisfying as we had first hoped. There are so many who aren’t willing to pay their own way, when they are perfectly capable of doing so. Ginger’s spent more time screening patients for genuine need than she’s spent in the treatment room.”
“I would imagine she’s good at it. She’s always had a knack for reading a person’s thoughts. Uncanny.” Uncomfortable, too.
“Last week she had to inform a businesswoman who makes more than a hundred fifty thou a year that she wasn’t eligible for a free elective surgery,” Graham said.
“Hasn’t the woman ever heard of insurance?”
“Her complaint was it costs too much. Ginger’s tired of it. Her most fulfilling task lately has been caring for Lucy and Brittany, and this trip represents the end of that role. Willow’s ecstatic about the adoption. Ginger, on the other hand, has been despondent for days.”
“What about you?” Ray asked, studying Graham’s pensive expression. “You’re not adopting the girls just to please Willow, are you?”
“No. I honestly can’t imagine life without those two little girls in it now. Their primary residence has been with Ginger and me, and I find myself resenting the time I have to spend at work because I can’t spend it with the people I love, both Willow and the children.”
Ray smiled at his friend. “I couldn’t be happier for you, Graham. It’s been a long time coming.”
Graham nodded. “The time was right, as it never had been before.”
Ray and Graham had met fourteen years ago, when Graham was in surgical residency. Even then, Ray had sought opportunities to help recruit the brightest and best for GlobeMed. To his disappointment, Graham was snatched by one of the most sought-after surgical practice groups in Springfield, Missouri, as soon as he was out of residency.
Because of their continued friendship, however, Ray knew Graham’s most cherished desire was to have a family. His first wife had chosen not to have children. When she divorced him, it had hit him hard, and he had given up on his dream.
Willow Traynor was an answer to Ray’s prayers for his friend. The widow of a murdered cop, she had lost their baby when her husband’s murderer ran her down with a car nearly three years ago. Last year, that vicious murderer had hunted her down in Branson and tried, again, to destroy her life, and the lives of those around her.
Some might say Lucy and Brittany’s mother had been collateral damage, because she had interfered with Willow’s stalker—had even tried to warn Willow about the danger while in a drugged stupor. That drugged stupor had cost the poor woman her life.
Since last April, Willow had blossomed with the friendship of Graham and Ginger, and the adoration of those two little girls. From what Ray had heard about the children, their lives were far better now than when they were with their confused and drug-addicted mother. But try telling that to Lucy and Brittany. Graham had told Ray last week that Lucy still had
nightmares about her mother’s death.
“After this week,” Graham said, “Ginger will be lost without the girls.”
“That’s a bad place for Ginger to be.” Ray had never known anyone with such a need to care for someone.
He’d never known someone who drew him so.
“I’m not really trying to matchmake,” Graham said. “Though I’m sure that’s what Ginger thinks I’m doing.”
Ray shot a wicked grin at Graham. “Ginger knows her brother pretty well, I think.”
Graham chuckled. “Honestly, matchmaking’s Willow’s territory.”
“And you think she might have something like that in mind?”
“It’s possible.”
Ray shook his head. “You’ve never been a good liar. You’re in this up to your eyeballs, I can tell.”
“I don’t like to see my sister so miserable.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, she appears to be pretty miserable now that I’ve boarded.”
“A good heart-to-heart could unravel a few tangles, I think,” Graham said.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to try to convince me to send her back to Minsk.”
“Not at all,” Graham said quickly. “I want her stateside. That heart trouble she had last year spooked me, even though it turned out to be a harmless arrhythmia. What I want is to see her forgive you.”
“I’d like that, too.” Ray sighed, frowning at the puzzle that had confused him since his conflict with Ginger last March. “I’ve never known her to hold a grudge. She’s changed her guiding principle at this stage in her life—and the grudge is with me. It isn’t a comfortable place to be.”
“She’s been hurt deeply. I’d like to see you two work out whatever complications have developed between you.”
Ray nodded. Ginger Carpenter would be a definite complication on this trip. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Ginger glanced over her shoulder and saw Ray and Graham with their heads together. As she continued to watch suspiciously, Ray glanced up and caught her gaze.
She held it. He needed to understand that she wasn’t going to just forget the past as if it hadn’t happened. She’d love to be able to do just that, but it would be dishonest. She’d tried to forgive, just as the Bible said to do. She’d even heard the reminder in church yesterday—forgive your enemy.
Forgive. The minister had said nothing about forgetting, and that was good, because she thought that was a stupid idea. If someone stabs you in the back, are you smart to forget, and give them the chance to do it again?
She wasn’t that kind of fool. She’d done a lot of stupid things in her life, but she’d learned from her mistakes, especially the one she’d made with Ray Clyde.
Ray’s expression told her that he and her brother were discussing her blatant, rude response to Ray’s presence. Fine. Let ’em talk.
The plane landed, they de-boarded, and Ginger took Brittany’s hand to keep her close. The child had a tendency to wander away.
Lucy suddenly gasped and dragged Ginger to a stop.
“It’s him, Aunt Ginger. It looks just like him!” Pointing at a slender, dark-haired man in the concourse, Lucy shook with fear.
SIX
Ginger had grown so attuned to Lucy and Brittany that she had known before Lucy even stopped her that she was suddenly in a panic. Her eyes, glistening with fear, were so wide, her expression so vulnerable that it broke Ginger’s heart.
Ginger followed Lucy’s line of vision, and indeed, saw a teenager who looked a lot like Rick Fenrow. He had thick, black hair, a pale, almost gaunt face, and eyebrows that looked like untamable caterpillars.
“No, honey. It’s okay,” she said, squatting to face Lucy, to hold her gaze and assure her she was safe. “That young man isn’t Rick.”
Lucy stared into her eyes, sober, serious, probing, as if attempting to discern if Ginger was merely trying to placate her.
“You’ve seen Rick Fenrow, Lucy,” she said softly. “We both know what he looks like, and if that was him,” she said, pointing at the kid, “I’d be calling for the police. You can trust me. Rick is older than this young man by at least ten or fifteen years.”
Lucy blinked then and sighed quietly, and Ginger saw some of the tension leave her face. “Okay.”
Ginger glanced up to find Ray’s gaze on her again, and the expression on his face suggested that he was trying to determine the wisdom of joining her in her efforts to reassure Lucy.
Did he know about the prison break? He looked confused.
“He’s a doppelgänger,” Ginger said.
Lucy frowned. “Huh?”
Ginger tried not to smile. Whenever Lucy heard a new word, she was distracted for hours trying to pronounce it and understand it. “That means you’re looking at someone who seems familiar, but really isn’t. That young man over there isn’t Rick, because he’s a kid. See, those are probably his parents with him.” She pointed to a middle-aged couple walking beside the youngster. To Lucy, of course, a teenage boy would look like a grown man.
What concerned Ginger was that Lucy obviously did know what Rick Fenrow looked like. That might be because she remembered him from last year, when he lived in the same apartment complex. It might also be because she’d gotten a good look at him in the window last night.
Ginger didn’t want to even think about that.
Oh, Lord, protect us.
Lucy watched the dopoganer—or whatever it was Aunt Ginger called him—hand his ticket to somebody in a uniform, then follow a line of people out of sight. He didn’t look at Lucy once.
Maybe that was because he really didn’t know her. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want her to know he knew her. What if he was pretending? What if he came back and grabbed her or Brittany when no one was looking?
Trying to think like a killer wasn’t easy.
She wanted to watch to make sure he didn’t come back, but Willow took her by the hand.
“Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got a short layover, and a lot of walking to do to get to our next gate.”
Graham picked up Brittany and carried her on ahead of them. Uncle Preston walked on Lucy’s other side, with his hand on her shoulder and his other hand holding his cell phone while he talked to his girlfriend, Sheila.
Uncle Preston was big and strong. Lucy felt safe with him.
She felt safe with Willow, too. Willow was tall and strong and brave.
Last year, the night the fire broke out at Uncle Preston’s cabin, Willow had broken into the apartment to rescue Lucy and Brittany because she couldn’t get them to answer the door. She had been the first person to discover they were alone at night while Mama worked. That was when she argued with Mama, and then started babysitting them so they wouldn’t be alone.
Lucy looked at Willow’s arm, and with her fingers she traced the scar Willow had gotten from cutting herself on the window when she broke in to save them. “Does this still hurt sometimes?”
Willow smiled down at her. “Nope. It doesn’t even itch now.”
Lucy would never tell anybody this, but she loved looking at that scar. Every time she saw it, she remembered that Willow would do anything to protect her and Brittany. And that was even before she was going to adopt them.
“Are Brittany and me in danger?” Lucy asked softly.
Willow’s steps slowed and stopped, and she knelt down to look into Lucy’s eyes, right there in the middle of that crowded hallway in the airport. Lucy had heard people say she looked as if she could be Willow’s daughter, with the same dark eyebrows and hair.
Lucy wanted to look like Willow. She wanted to act like her, too, strong and kind and brave. And she never wanted to do drugs or act crazy, like Mama.
“Honey, I know you were frightened last night,” Willow said gently. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m also sorry you overheard about Rick Fenrow’s prison break. But you need to understand how much we love you. We aren’t going to take any chances with
you and Brittany, believe me.”
“Do you think he’s following us?”
“It doesn’t seem possible he could know where we’re going, but we’ve got Larry with us, just in case. He’s keeping watch on us.”
“You’re scared of Rick Fenrow, too, aren’t you?” Lucy asked.
Instead of denying it, Willow drew Lucy close and hugged her.
“Okay, ladies,” Larry Bager said, his voice gruff. “There’ll be time for heart-to-hearts later. Our flight’s already boarding. Better pick up the pace.”
Willow never answered Lucy’s question, which meant the answer was yes. Why didn’t grown-ups ever admit to kids when they were afraid?
Lucy thought she knew why. Mama used to say, “Why should I try to explain something to you when you can’t possibly understand it, anyway? It’s grown-up stuff, and you’re a kid. If you try to be a grown-up before you’re ready, you’ll get stupid and mess everything up. So let me be the grown-up for a while longer, okay?”
Mama was really scared the morning before she died. When grown-ups got scared, it meant there was something to be afraid of.
Ray deliberately placed himself behind Ginger as they waited to board, and he noted how hard she was trying to ignore him. He smiled to himself every time he caught her watching him from the periphery of her vision.
Last year at this time, had they been in this same situation, Ginger would have already known how he had enjoyed his trip so far, what he intended to accomplish for the remainder of the trip, and what she could do to help facilitate his time in Hawaii.
She would also have gathered the same information about every other person traveling with her. Ordinarily. Even taking into account her awkwardness with him, she seemed distracted.
He turned to look at her, and their gazes met briefly. To his surprise, for a moment, she didn’t look away. A ridge of worry formed between her brows.
“Ginger?” he asked softly. “Is something wrong? Something besides just—” he held his palm up and waved it between the two of them “—just this.”
Death Benefits Page 4