Baby Blues and Wedding Bells

by Patricia McLinn

  “Then maybe Tobias isn’t—”

  “Oh, yes, it is. We’re getting married in Tobias.”

  Fran laughed. “I think you’re nuts, but okay.”

  Kay turned to him. “And you’ll promise to come back for the wedding, right, Zach?”

  He hadn’t let himself think beyond the present. Now, a vision of the Dalton house decorated for Christmas and Fran with snowflakes in her hair grabbed at him.

  He fought off the image. “I doubt I’ll have any leave left at that point.”

  “But—”

  “Fran, I’m going to head over to Bliss House, check the stakes on the saplings.”

  Annette looked at her watch. “Yikes, look at the time. We’d all better get over there—did I tell you the news? Lana’s volunteered to help. Can you believe it? Nell, you better get started to school now. And Kay, do you have that book on dog training you said I could borrow? We’ve got to keep Pansy from running away. No more raspberry patches, right, Nell?”

  “I’ll get the book,” Kay said.

  Fran stood, too. “Zach, if you’ll wait a few minutes, I’ll go with you. I have to put some laundry in.”

  He was already at the door. “Take your time. Come along later.”

  “But…”

  He left her protest behind him, but Zach heard steps following him. Before he’d covered half the distance to his car, Nell caught up with him walking her bike.

  “Can I ask you somethin’?”

  He glanced toward the porch where the three women now stood, looking toward them. They’d probably be wondering what this was about, since they wouldn’t be able to hear from there. “Okay.”

  “Were you and my daddy ever good brothers?”

  He looked down at the intense blue eyes studying him. “Yes.”

  “When you were picking raspberries?”

  “Yeah, and a lot of other times. Steve was a good older brother.”

  “Were you a good younger brother?”

  He gave a half grunt, half chuckle. “I was a pain in the— I was a pain.”

  She appeared to contemplate that. He thought the questioning might be over. No such luck.

  “Did you want to marry my—Lily?”

  “No.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “No.”

  She pinned him with her solemn stare. After what seemed a week, she gave a small nod, as if he’d passed some test.

  “I cared about her, and enjoyed being with her. She had a lot of good qualities.”

  “Like what?”

  “Determination.” That one came quickly, perhaps because he saw it in Lily’s daughter. Was there anything else of Lily in Nell? Anything he could tell this child? “She liked animals. And people. And she liked to have fun.”

  “Can I ask you somethin’ else?”

  “Okay.” This one had to be easier.

  “Do you love Fran?”

  Oh, hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  “She said she’d come, but I didn’t believe it,” Annette muttered.

  Fran, Annette and Suz sat on the front steps of Bliss House, synchronizing their lists and schedules for the final count-down to the opening. They had looked up to see Lana Corbett coming down the walkway toward them. She wore a short wool jacket and matching skirt in marine blue, hose, low heels and pearls.

  Fran felt a momentary regret that she hadn’t found time to look at Kay’s clothes, before she reminded herself that her pullover and loose jeans were practical for a day working around the gardens.

  “Hello, Lana,” Annette said with a genuine smile. “We’re so glad you could come.”

  Lana inclined her head regally. “What is it you want me to do?”

  “Volunteers are making decorations and—”

  “I don’t have any skill at that.” Lana looked almost alarmed.

  “That’s okay. They’re getting the programs ready for the opening, too. Your help will be greatly appreciated.”

  “Very well.” She started to follow the walkway around the house, then stopped. “Annette, there is something I hoped to make clear…”

  When Lana’s stiff voice trailed off, Fran felt as if she were holding her breath. She sensed the older woman faced a hurdle she was not at all certain she could clear.

  “Yes, Lana?” Annette asked in an encouraging tone.

  “I want you and Steve and…” She glanced at Fran, then looked back to Annette. “That day at your house, when I suggested a DNA test, it was to prove Nell’s a Corbett, not to disprove it. When she gets older, there could be rumors, stories… Nell might suffer.”

  And in that instant Fran saw that Lana was a woman who cared. Who cared very much. Often about the wrong things, or in the wrong way, yet cared deeply. And didn’t know how to reach out, how to give love to those she cared about.

  She didn’t even know how to talk to them. She had given this message to Annette to carry to Steve and, Fran supposed, to her for Zach.

  “Thank you for telling me, Lana. I appreciate your concern for Nell.”

  “Yes, well, she is my granddaughter.”

  She walked away then, clothes perfect, hair perfect, posture perfect.

  The three younger women sat in silence well after she was gone.

  “She’s not what we all think she is, is she?” Suz said at last.

  Annette released a long, slow sigh. “It’s more complicated than that. She is what everyone thinks she is, but she’s also more. Back in the spring, when Steve and I got together and she was trying to get Miss Trudi put in a home and to take over Bliss House, I had this moment…I saw her…” She shook her head. “I knew she was lonely. I could see that so clearly, and I felt sorry for her at the same time I was so angry at her for doing these things to Miss Trudi.”

  “Not to mention how she tried to come between you and Steve,” Suz said.

  Annette flashed a grin. “Right, no need to mention that, since I won that war. But seriously, I think she’s incredibly lonely, and she makes me so sad.”

  “So you’re behind Nell spending time with her?” Fran asked.

  “Oh, Steve’s the one who…”

  Fran let her see her disbelief and Annette’s protest wound down. “Yes. I’ve encouraged that.”

  “I wondered. It didn’t seem in keeping with the way he’s always handled his mother.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Steve sidestepped Lana, simply ignored her or sometimes froze her out of his life. So deliberately encouraging Nell to have contact with her didn’t fit. His style’s to disconnect from her.”

  Annette nodded slowly. “You’re right. What about Zach?”

  “Oh, Zach always squared off with her, standing in her face, shouting his defiance. Taking the battle right to her.”

  “Then why did he run away?”

  “Because he was afraid he was losing.” Fran stared at a small, brave rose blooming in a shaft of fall sunlight. “And at the same time he was afraid he’d win by defying her in a way that would break her for good. He couldn’t do that, because she’s his mother, and deep down he loves her.”

  Do you love Fran?

  Nell, that’s one question I’m not answering. That’s not any of your business.

  Nell had considered him for an instant, then said Okay, got on her bike, waved and was gone.

  Zach wished the echo of her question was as easy to send on its way. Do you love Fran?

  What the hell could he give her? That was a better question.

  The answer had him in a foul mood that got worse when he walked into Bliss House near noon and found Lana among the volunteers in the tearoom folding programs for the opening.

  He returned her look coolly, then went to the far side of the room for a soft drink, joining Max and Suz by the cooler.

  “When are Kay and Rob coming?” Miss Trudi asked. She was folding programs at the same table with Lana.

  “Not for a while,” Fran said. Her fingers never slowed in making an
elaborate bow for the basket that would hold the seed packets. “They’re meeting with a lawyer about a prenup.”

  “It’s sensible of Rob to protect his assets,” Lana said.

  Zach snorted. “Kay’s family’s the one with the bucks—”

  “Don’t be vulgar, Zachary.”

  He thought better of responding with something truly vulgar and simply finished his thought. “Rob’s the one who wants to make sure it’s ironclad that he gets none of her money.”

  “I know how he feels,” Max murmured as he stacked folded programs into a box.

  Suz made a face at him. “After they’re married, Rob will figure out what’s hers is his and vice versa. He’ll probably figure it out fast.”

  Max smiled at her.

  “Yeah, but in this case,” Zach said, “Kay doesn’t want the money, either. It’s going to be the only prenup that’s ironclad that neither one gets anything.”

  “Absolute foolishness,” Lana said.

  An awkward silence fell at that proclamation.

  “The only person I’ve known who’d agree with that position, Lana,” Zach said, “was Lily.”

  “Don’t speak to me of Lily.”

  “You must have seen the irony in the situation, Lana. Lily—the one from the right family, the one you wanted for Steve because she was appropriate for a Corbett—turning out to be—”

  “She deceived all of us.”

  “Not Steve. He had her figured out in high school. And I can’t say she deceived me. I knew she really wanted Steve, because he was the Corbett heir. I was a runner-up prize.”

  “There is no need to be vulgar. I was mistaken in her,” Lana said coldly.

  “Maybe. Or maybe you recognized a kindred spirit.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “She was pregnant by a guy who took off, but she landed on her feet by latching on to a Corbett who came to the rescue.”

  Lana had gone white, her lipsticked mouth standing out against her paleness. “I did not latch on to your father. He loved me. And he loved Steven. But you—”

  “Yeah, I know, I was a constant disappointment.”

  She rose, aligned a stack of unfolded programs.

  “You refused to give his name and his heritage the respect he deserved, and yet he loved you. More than you ever saw. More than he loved me.”

  She walked out, her heels clicking on the wood floor. The same sound as on the porch the day he’d left, but slower.

  Zach took another soft drink, ignoring the looks zinging around, especially Fran’s. But he’d still seen the mix of concern and exasperation in her face.

  Into the silence, Miss Trudi said, “You might as well have called your mother a gold digger, Zach.”

  He opened his mouth to say Damn straight. But Miss Trudi beat him to the punch.

  “As your grandparents did.” She nodded, looking around the room. “I believe it is time to tell you about when Lana came to Tobias. She was carrying you, Steve. She was pregnant with you before she embarked on a whirlwind courtship with Ambrose.”

  “How long have you known?” Steve asked.

  “From the beginning.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “It wasn’t anybody’s place to tell you except Lana’s or Ambrose’s. I tried to nudge him. He said he loved you and that was all that mattered. You remember that stiff way he had when he felt strongly about something.

  “As for your mother, she reacted with flat denial. As if I hadn’t heard the family talking when Ambrose first brought her here. You know he was past fifty, and she was—well, she never admitted to being as young then as she probably was, as she won’t admit to being as old now as she is.

  “Ambrose’s parents raised a mighty fuss—in their own way. Quiet and stern and bristling with rectitude. Ambrose said they were married, and that was that. They gave Lana a hard time, especially Aunt Joan. She’d prune up at any mistake Lana made—grammar, forks, talking too loudly, the wrong clothes. I thought Lana might explode those first months. Especially because Aunt Joan and Uncle Herbert laid down the law and basically said she couldn’t go out of the house while she was pregnant—expecting as they said.

  “You came along, Steve, and she was a new mother with a colicky baby, and frequently not in any state for socializing. Lana had been placed on her first board—the hospital auxiliary, Aunt Joan’s private fiefdom—when she became pregnant with Zach and returned to seclusion. Uncle Herbert died the month before Zach was born, Aunt Joan three months after. Aunt Joan’s funeral was the true coming out of Lana Corbett. It was astonishing to realize that she not only had learned all the lessons they’d taught her, but had become more Corbett than the Corbetts.”

  “So, she wasn’t welcomed with open arms by her in-laws,” Zach said. “That doesn’t excuse her.”

  “Ah, Zach, you are far too hard on your mother. You always have been.”

  He’d heard about some of his mother’s machinations against Miss Trudi, and against Steve and Annette’s reconciliation. “You never had any time for Lana, either, Miss Trudi.”

  “Things change. And your mother has been trying these past months. I truly believe she is trying to change.”

  “Not Lana Corbett. She won’t ever change.”

  “Why not? You did. And you are your mother’s son.”

  Zach picked up his shoes, planning to put them on in the hall.

  “Zach?”

  Fran’s slow, warm voice almost pulled him back to the bed. But she hadn’t gotten much rest last night, and with the opening ahead of her later today, she’d be worn out. “It’s okay, Fran, go back to sleep.”

  But she sat up. “Where are you going?”

  “To run.”

  “Now? It’s dark.”

  “It’s okay,” he repeated.

  “Why, Zach? Why do you run in the middle of the night?” She cut off his search for a plausible explanation. “You had a dream. Another dream.”

  “How did you know…?” Probably the same way Waco did. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Zach.” She stretched a hand. Too far away to touch, yet it tugged at him. “Tell me.”

  He could have told Taz, he’d have understood. He should have told Doc, it was what he was there for. He would have told Waco, if he’d had the words then.

  Now he did. Where they came from he didn’t know. He’d think about that later, why they came now, with this woman, and hadn’t with the men he had shared so many experiences with, counted as friends, trusted.

  “Our last deployment, four months ago.” He stood at the end of her bed, resting his hands on top of the smooth edge of the footboard. “It was a textbook earthquake search. The dog alerted, structural checked it over and said we could work it. The tech-search guys homed right in on the subject, and then the rock breakers got started. One layer at a time. Careful. It was a bad spot. A lot of pancaking. After a couple of layers, Doc and I could get in, at least enough to see him, to reach his head and upper torso. But from his waist down…”

  He paced to the window, then turned to say these words to her face.

  “He couldn’t survive his injuries. Even if we could get him out without killing him right then, he’d die soon. And the team couldn’t get him out. I could see it in their faces after the first couple of layers. They kept working. But each layer they took off, each assessment made it clearer. They couldn’t extricate him and we couldn’t keep him alive.” He cleared his throat. “Victims die. It happens. We all know it. It’s a given in what we do. I’ve had patients die before, and this wasn’t a kid or…”

  “But this victim dying bothered you. Leaving him hurt you.”

  He shook his head. “We don’t leave them, not once we’ve found them. We don’t just say, see ya, be back when we can. Somebody stays with the patient, keeps the IV going, does what he can. The only time we leave them is if higher command says we’ve gotta get out because something’s too dangerous for us to stay, tremors or explosi
ons or something. Because if we get hurt or killed, nobody gets helped. As soon as it’s over, we’re back in. And the whole team’s working: delayering debris, planning the evacuation when the patient’s free, preparing an amputation if we have to extricate.”

  “Not even amputation…?”

  He shook his head. “He was pinned across the middle. But what was pinning him also held him together.” He pulled in a breath. “The team keeps trying, keeps working, keeps scrambling for a solution. And my job is to control the pain, keep him calm. I’ve done it before. It’s not what you hope for. You want to fight to save people. Just sitting back and listening is… But if you can ease it some…”

  He looked up at her, hoping she understood. She did. He saw in her face that she’d experienced it with her mother and father. You helped them to keep living until they died, and that made it bearable.

  “But this man was different,” she said gently. Yes, she understood.

  “Yeah. He was.”

  “What was he like, Zach?” She reached for him again, this time taking his hand. She urged him to sit, and he did.

  “He was about seventy. His name was Miguel, and he talked all the time. English, Spanish, back and forth. He had a saying for everything.”

  He told her about Miguel’s account of his life, how he had left a wife and children in his native village and moved to the city and created an entirely new life, and how the new life eventually fell apart. His second wife had left him. He was estranged from his now-grown children. He was alone.

  “He asked me about my life,” Zach said. “Wouldn’t be put off. Wanted to hear all about my family and growing up. When I told him I’d left here and hadn’t been back in eight years, he said I was making the same mistake he had. That I should learn from him, that if you build a new house on the foundation of an old one without clearing all the rubble, the new one will soon crash down around you.”

  He waited, but she made no judgments, drew no parallels, she simply listened.

  “You asked me why I came back to Tobias, Fran. Miguel—he’s the reason. I keep dreaming about him. About his life, about what he said. I can’t shake it. I got sent to Doc—he’d been there, too, and he figured it had to do with Miguel, that Miguel had connected with me and that made it personal. But I couldn’t…I didn’t tell him much. So he said to take some time off, get my head straight.” He twisted a grin. “It was not a suggestion, it was an order. Then I had to figure out what the hell to do with the time off. And I couldn’t stop thinking of something Miguel said.”