“What about Savannah? Does she get a long needle in her hipbone, or what?”
“There’s a new way of harvesting stem cells called apheresis. Dr. Franzen has decided to use the new method to transplant Savannah’s bone marrow to Ryan.”
“How does that work?”
Holly debated whether to try and explain and realized she was going to have to tell Jack something. She made her description as simple as she could. “A few days before the procedure, Savannah will take a drug called G-CSF. The drug forces her hematopoietic stem cells—those are the ones that will grow new white blood cells—to move from her bone marrow into her circulating blood. Once her blood is full of stem cells, it will be collected with a catheter.”
“No surgery? No long needle in her hipbone?”
“No operating room, no general anesthesia. Savannah’s blood will go from a tube inserted in one of her veins into a machine that separates stem cells from her other blood cells, which will go back to her. Then the collected hematopoietic stem cells will be transfused to Ryan.”
“Does that mean Savannah’s recovery time is quicker? I mean, can she get back to her program at Quantico sooner?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Holly said. “The drug she has to take can cause flu symptoms and bone pain in the days before and after the procedure. It’ll depend on how severe a reaction she has to the G-CSF. It could take a couple of weeks before she’s feeling completely herself again.”
“How long before we know if the transplant worked?” Jack asked.
“It usually takes about two to three weeks for the white blood cells to recover. Within a month we should have our first inkling of whether or not the procedure was successful.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
Holly was silent. Even if the bone marrow transplant worked, Ryan would have to be monitored for the next three months to see whether he developed graft versus host disease, bad infections or signs of graft rejection, any of which could result in disaster. But she didn’t want to give Jack nightmares.
Jack already had enough trouble sleeping. She’d caught him sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of the night more than once over the past few weeks…when her own nightmares had woken her.
“Holly? What if it doesn’t work?” Jack persisted.
If Ryan didn’t recover after receiving a bone marrow transplant from what was a perfect match, there weren’t a lot of other options. “Let’s just pray it does.”
36
“Ryan, I’d like you to meet Savannah Whitelaw,” Holly said. Her glance slid from Ryan, who lay in a hospital bed, to Savannah, who stood on the opposite side of the bed from Holly, and then to Jack, who stood beside their daughter.
The frail little boy with patches of chestnut hair and sunken dark brown eyes shot his visitor a wide, gap-toothed smile. One of Ryan’s two front teeth had finally fallen out. He’d been worried that the tooth fairy wouldn’t find him in the hospital, but a dollar had miraculously appeared under his pillow overnight.
“Hi, Savannah,” Ryan said. “You have eyes the same color as my mom’s.”
Considering the adults in the room were all wearing masks and gowns and gloves, about all Ryan could see were Savannah’s eyes. And yet, he’d noticed the resemblance.
Savannah shot Holly a quick look before she said, “Hello, Ryan. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached out to shake his bare hand with her gloved one.
Holly watched her daughter’s green eyes crinkle as she smiled at her younger brother.
“Savannah’s donating the bone marrow you need to grow new white blood cells,” Jack said.
“Wow, Savannah, that’s great,” Ryan said. “I can’t wait to get well and get out of here.” Her son’s pain and fatigue and frustration were evident in his soft, hoarse voice.
A nurse pushed open the door and said, “Miss Whitelaw? We’re ready for you.”
“So long, Ryan,” Savannah said. “Hope you get well soon.”
“Thanks, Savannah.”
Savannah turned to leave, and Holly said to Jack, “I’ll be right back. I want to talk to Savannah.”
She followed her daughter out the door and caught up with her as she joined the nurse. “I’d like to speak to my daughter a moment before you start.”
“I’ll be in the bone marrow transfer clinic,” the nurse said to Savannah. “Join me as soon as you can.”
“What is it you want, Dr. McKinley?” Savannah said, confronting her in the middle of the hospital hallway.
Holly pulled off her mask and gloves. Savannah kept hers on, avoiding contact with anything or anyone that could make her sick before she donated her marrow.
“How long are you staying in Houston?” Holly asked.
“My father’s flying me home to Hawk’s Way as soon as this procedure is done,” she replied. “It’s too late to rejoin my class at Quantico. I’m on medical leave from the FBI until I’m well enough to return to duty.”
“I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk before you go.” Savannah had stayed with Whitelaw relatives in Houston until she’d checked into the hospital for the transplant procedure, refusing Jack and Holly’s hospitality.
“I’m glad I can help your son,” Savannah said. “But I have nothing to say to you.”
“It isn’t fair to punish your father—Jack—” Holly quickly corrected when she saw the mutinous look in her daughter’s eyes, “for what I did. He says you won’t talk to him. That you won’t return his calls.”
“I have a father and a mother, Dr. McKinley. Believe it or not, I even have several sisters and brothers.”
“So you don’t need us?”
Savannah shrugged. “The truth is, no, I don’t. I love my parents. And I know they love me.”
“I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms,” Holly said fiercely.
“And yet, you gave me away,” Savannah snarled back.
Holly had no defense to that accusation, because it was true. “I hope you’ll talk with Jack when he calls again. And he will. He’s a good man. You’d like him if you got to know him.”
“Are we done here?” Savannah asked.
Holly sighed. “Yes. Thank you again for—”
“I’m doing this for the little boy in that bed,” Savannah interrupted. “Now I have to go.”
She turned and fled.
Holly met Jack coming out of Ryan’s hospital room. “How’s Ryan?” she asked anxiously.
“Asleep,” Jack said as he pulled off his mask and gloves. “He’s so weak, Holly. It worries me.”
Jack’s eyes were bleak. And frightened. Holly knew he needed words of comfort. She opened her mouth to explain how everything would be fine in two or three weeks and sobbed instead.
Because she’d been too worried to eat, her blood sugar was out of whack, and she suddenly felt dizzy. She called out “Jack!” and grabbed for his sleeve as she keeled over.
He caught her up in his arms before she hit the floor and headed for a nearby parents’ lounge that was mercifully empty. He sat down on a couch with her in his arms, holding her head and shoulders against his chest.
When she came fully to her senses, Holly could hear his heart beating hard and fast. She moaned and touched her temple.
“Some girls will do anything to get a guy’s attention,” she heard him say as she opened her eyes and leaned back to look up into his face.
He was smiling down at her. Tenderly.
Holly felt a pain behind her breastbone in the region of her heart. “I’m sorry, Jack. So sorry. For everything.”
Jack caught her head in his hands and leaned over to kiss her. Holly was so surprised she pushed him away.
He paused and stared at her in confusion. “Holly?”
She searched his gaze, looking for some explanation for his loverlike behavior. “Have you forgiven me, Jack?”
“For Christ’s sake, Holly.” He lifted her out of his lap and sat her beside him on the couch, then took her hands
in his and looked into her eyes. “I’m as responsible as you are for Savannah being born. If there’s any blame here, I deserve at least half of it.”
Holly stared at him with astonished eyes. “You are? You do?”
He let go of her hands and shot her a chagrined look. “I wasn’t just coming out of the door to Ryan’s room when you met me. I was standing close enough to hear what you said to Savannah about not blaming me, about giving me a chance to be her father.”
“Jack, I—”
“I appreciate your efforts to get her to talk to me. It’s the kind of unselfish thing you’ve done all our married lives. Taking the blame, I mean. I’ve thought a lot about what happened that July Fourth. I planned to make love to you, if you were willing. I should have brought some protection. It takes two to make a baby, Holly. So, yes, I was involved in some of the decision making that led to Savannah’s hard life, too.
“There’s no way in hell the two of us would have been able to raise a baby. I would just have made a mess of things if I’d known you were pregnant. You did the right thing not telling me.”
“Because you would have wanted to keep the baby?” Holly asked.
Jack shoved both hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end. “Hell, I don’t know. Maybe. It would have been stupid and caused a lot of problems. It’s too bad Savannah had a hard time with her adoptive parents and ended up in foster care. But you did what you thought would be best for her.
“In the end, she wound up with great parents. She’s turned out to be an amazing woman. Imagine, our daughter an FBI agent,” he said with a quick grin.
“Who won’t talk to either of us,” Holly muttered.
He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, then leaned back against the couch with her. “She will, Holly. Maybe not today or tomorrow or next week. But someday Savannah Whitelaw will have to make a difficult choice—maybe when she’s a mother herself—and she’ll understand why you did what you did. When that day comes, she’ll forgive you and me and let us into her life.”
“Do you really think so?” Holly asked wistfully.
“I’m betting on it,” Jack said. “And since you know I don’t gamble, you can damn well count on it.”
“Jack!”
“What’s wrong?”
She grabbed his hand and placed it low and to the right on her stomach. The baby kicked hard again with its foot, the shape of which was clearly imprinted for an instant against her skin.
Jack laughed. “He’s going to be an NFL kicker, for sure.”
“Oof. She’s going to be the next Olympic women’s soccer team goalie.”
“What if the baby is a girl?” Jack asked. “What are we going to name her?”
“Hannah,” Holly said softly.
“Why Hannah?”
“Because it sounds nice with Savannah. Our two daughters, Savannah and Hannah.”
“Try saying that fast three times,” Jack challenged. “How about Daisy?”
Holly wrinkled her nose. “Daisy? What doctor do you know named Daisy?”
Jack lifted a brow. “So now she’s going to be a doctor?”
“There are two law enforcement officers in the family. I figure there might as well be two doctors.”
“My mother’s name is Rose,” Jack said. “I thought we might name our daughter after a flower, too.”
“How about Lily?” Holly said.
“Holly and Lily,” Jack said, letting the sounds roll off his tongue. “Say that three times.”
“I see your point. All right, you name a flower.”
“Iris,” Jack said.
“I knew a mean girl named Iris in third grade. I wouldn’t name any child of mine Iris.”
“Your turn,” Jack said.
“Heather.”
“Every other female born in the seventies is named Heather. The world is bloated with Heathers,” Jack objected.
“Pansy.”
“No.”
“Petunia.”
“No.”
“Poppy.”
“Hell no.”
“Your turn,” Holly said with a laugh.
“Violet.”
“Hmm.” Holly said it aloud two or three times. “It would probably end up being shortened to Vi.”
“Or maybe ’Olet,’” Jack said.
Holly socked him in the arm. “Stop kidding. This is serious. Our daughter needs a name.”
“How about Jasmine?”
“Oh.” Holly sat up straight. “I love the smell of jasmine. When I was a teenager I used to have a perfume—”
“The one you wore to the Fourth of July picnic?” Jack asked, sitting up beside her. “That was jasmine?”
Holly nodded. “Yeah. That was jasmine.”
“There’s the connection to our first daughter,” Jack said. “Something to remind us of Savannah. But giving Jasmine a name all her own.”
“But which also links her to your mom.” Holly sighed and leaned back again along with Jack. She laid her head on his chest as he slid his arm around her. “I’m glad that’s settled.”
“Holly.”
“Hmm?”
“What if it’s a boy?”
They played the same game with boy’s names for a while, a safe way to spend the time while they waited for the next step in Ryan’s bone marrow transplant, but couldn’t agree on anything.
“Holly, I need to tell you something.”
Lately, no news was good news, as far as Holly was concerned. She knew this wasn’t good news because she could feel the tension in Jack’s shoulder and hear the erratic thud of his heart.
Which now matched her own.
She tried to ease herself out from under his sheltering arm, but he tightened his grip on her shoulder and said, “Stay here beside me.”
She laid her head back against his chest so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes when he told her he was leaving her. She waited for him to speak, but he remained silent.
“I’m listening, Jack,” she said softly.
“I feel foolish.”
At that, she sat up and looked into his eyes. His expression was sheepish. “Foolish about what?” she asked.
“I’ve known what I’m going to say now for quite some time. I just haven’t been able to figure out the best way to tell you.”
“You’re leaving me,” Holly blurted.
“God, no! I love you, Holly. That’s what I realized. I’ve never stopped loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
Holly felt herself smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, Jack.” And then the hormones hit her, and she burst into tears.
Jack lifted her bulk into his lap once more, planting kisses on her eyes and cheeks and lips and murmuring love words that were a balm for her soul. “You don’t have to worry about me going anywhere, Holly. I’m with you for the long haul.”
They were words she needed to hear. She owed him as much. “I love you, Jack. I’ve always loved you. And I will love you the rest of my life.”
She returned his kisses with enthusiasm, and it didn’t take long for things to get out of control. When she felt Jack’s hand reaching under her blouse, she broke off the kiss and, still panting, said, “I want you, Jack, so much. I can’t wait to be alone with you tonight. But I think before we make love again, you should tell Kate Pendleton about your decision.”
Jack sat bolt upright. “I forgot all about Kate.”
Holly smiled again. Now that was true love.
37
It had taken quite a bit of finagling, but D’Amato managed to be at M.D. Anderson at a time when the twins were visiting Ryan McKinley and Shaw wasn’t picking them up immediately afterward. He believed his son’s threat. But twenty-five-year-old written evidence wasn’t going to be as useful or convincing to a jury as a cell phone video of Dante D’Amato shooting a man in the back of the head.
D’Amato needed to make friends with his grandsons so they would tell him where they’d hidden tha
t cell phone. He knew that after they visited McKinley’s son, they usually went to the same café where he’d met their mother. So he arranged to be there when they arrived.
He thought he did a pretty good job of looking surprised to see Mrs. Pendleton and sons, although he could see he hadn’t fooled the woman. But so long as she didn’t make a scene, he would have time to accomplish his purpose.
“Hello, boys,” he said. No sense giving them a chance to misidentify themselves again.
“Hello, Mr. D’Amato,” they replied in unison.
“Can I buy you some Coke? Or a bowl of ice cream?”
“We’re not allowed to have Coke,” one of the boys replied.
“Mom, can we have ice cream?” the other boy asked.
“It’s a while before supper,” D’Amato cajoled. “I’d like to do something nice for them.”
“All right,” she agreed, although she was obviously wary of trusting him.
“Let’s go get in line,” D’Amato said, ushering the boys away from their mother.
“Stay where I can see you,” she said.
“No problem,” D’Amato said. He just needed to get them to a place where she couldn’t hear them.
“I like chocolate,” one of the boys said.
“I like strawberry,” the other said.
“Let’s see what they have,” D’Amato replied. “I was sorry to learn that you boys lost your dad last year.”
One of the boys said, “He died in the war.”
“I heard he was a brave soldier,” D’Amato said. “And had a military funeral. Which one of you got to hold the flag?”
“They gave the flag to Mom,” one of the boys said.
“Did you get anything to remind you of your father?” he asked.
“Some medals and stuff,” the other boy said.
“I hope you put them someplace safe.”
“We did.”
“You need a really good hiding place, so robbers can’t steal important things like that,” D’Amato said.
“We know that,” one of the boys said. “Our father told us we should put important things in a place where no one could ever find them.”
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