A Father's Vow

by Tina Leonard

  “No. I didn’t get the message.” And it was possible it wouldn’t have mattered. It seemed to only matter now—now that she was beginning to understand how short life could be, thanks to Lucy. “You know what? I shouldn’t have held that in my heart for so long. I should have known you were holding your feelings in, Christine. You’ve been doing that for years.”

  “Yes, I’m quite the woman of unresolved emotions,” she snapped.

  Obviously a nerve had been touched. Carolyn put her hand over her sister’s and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s sheets and towels in the linen closet in the hall. The room across from mine is empty. You’ll have to make your own bed up, and there’s no chocolate delivery here. We’ll share the bathroom, of course, but I won’t wake you up in the morning if you’re still in the habit of living like a bat.”

  “I am,” Christine said on a groan. “You could take pity on me after my long flight and make my bed for me.”

  “No,” Carolyn said with a teasing smile. “No, I couldn’t.”

  * * *

  CAROLYN NO SOONER crawled into bed than the phone on the nightstand rang. She reached out and grabbed it before it could ring again. “Hello?”

  “Carolyn, it’s Ben.”

  She smiled in the darkness. “Hi.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “I have a bone to pick with you about your crossing-the-bridge theory. You didn’t tell me that sometimes the bridge is only made of rope.”

  “Could have been paper. She could have had a lit match, too.”

  A giggle escaped her. “You have a point.”

  “Considering that you had two unexpected visitors tonight, you were quite the active hostess. I appreciate you letting me in.”

  “Always.” It was true.

  “So do you love her now?” His voice was CASUAL, as if she were merely a friend he felt comfortable with.

  “Never,” she said. “My heart is made of stone.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I never didn’t love her, but I doubt there’s anything she could ever do that would make me feel real…you know, sisterly love kind of stuff.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She looks too much like Pamela Anderson Lee for me to love her totally, Ben. I’m sure I’m jealous.”

  She expected laughter at her teasing remark, but he said, “I know it was hard to tell me the things you did, Carolyn, but…I hope you don’t regret confiding in me.”

  Her smile rumpled into a frown. “I don’t think I do.”

  “I think you’re wonderful for what you tried to do for Lucy.”

  “It wasn’t a matter of being wonderful. It’s what I wanted to do. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  They were quiet for a few seconds before Ben said, “Well, I’d better let you get some rest since you’ve got to get up early in the morning.”

  She’d liked to have stayed on the phone with him longer, just listening to his deep voice lull her. But she sensed a difference, something distancing in his voice that told her he’d only made this call to assure himself she was all right after Christine’s unexpected appearance. “Okay,” she said slowly, “thanks for calling, Ben.”

  “Good night.”

  “Bye.” She hung up the phone and stared into the darkness. He’d sounded remote, especially at the end. Complimenting her, almost in the past tense. Thanking her for something that needed no thanks between people who wanted to be part of each other. Her blood ran a bit cold, chilling her insides.

  When Carolyn had left Ben before, it had hurt very much to believe he had gotten over her so quickly and fallen in love with another woman.

  It would be much worse now, when she’d just allowed him to glimpse into the darkest corners of her tattered soul, if he didn’t want her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ”I’M NOT A MATCH,” Dylan said, coming into the office and tossing a newspaper onto Carolyn’s desk. “Sorry. But I called Ben and then took an ad out in the paper outlining Lucy’s situation and asking for people who are willing to be tested.”

  She looked up at him, disappointment thick inside her. It seemed time was running by so quickly, and little hope left. “Thanks for trying, Dylan. It means a lot…to everyone.”

  “Are you getting too emotionally involved in this case?” he asked, nearing her desk. “Remember, there is a risk associated with that.”

  A smile passed over her face. “There are more risks than you realize. But thanks.”

  “I realize you two have past history, but do I sense the history is becoming part of the future?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I suppose one wedding around here is enough for a while.” He scanned some messages she’d taken. “This is all?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I was hoping for something else,” he murmured. “I guess I’ll head out for a while. Page me if anything comes up.”

  She watched as Dylan left. Between both of them waiting for phone calls that never seemed to come, the working environment was tense. The reserve in Ben’s voice last night worried her. Maybe he was just busy, maybe something had happened to Lucy.

  The phone rang, and she snatched it up. “Finders Keepers. Carol—”

  “Carolyn,” Jennifer Rodriguez said. “I’ve found him. I’ve found Ben’s brother.”

  * * *

  CAROLYN CALLED Ben to let him know that Jennifer wanted him to be at the hospital in two hours. There his brother would have a blood test, and he and Ben would meet.

  “Thanks, Carolyn,” Ben said. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

  “It wasn’t much, but I’m glad it’s all working out.” Carolyn’s voice caught. The silence hung between them, so she just said, “Good luck crossing that bridge, Ben.”

  “Thanks. Bye, Carolyn.”

  He hung up, and Carolyn sat staring at the phone in her hand for a moment. Then she replaced it on the desk. Her part in the case was successfully over—so she should be thrilled.

  Case closed.

  The trouble was, her heart had begun to open up—and she didn’t want to close the door again.

  * * *

  BEN STARED at the man standing in the hospital corridor, his world threatening to spin off its axis.

  He had no doubt this was his brother. Though not identical, they shared the same build and coloring. The other man stared back at him, hands stiffly in his jean pockets and a frown on his face.

  All Ben’s brave talk about being stronger once you’ve been through difficult times evaporated. By seeking this stranger out, he had irrevocably changed a man’s life, and likely an entire family’s. Was this a bridge he’d find himself wishing he’d never decided to cross?

  He had to make himself walk forward. Slowly, he approached, unable to help feeling that he was encroaching on the man’s private space.

  And yet the stranger did nothing to stop him.

  My brother.

  “I’m Ben Mulholland,” he said, not putting out his hand. Should he shake his long-lost brother’s hand? Or wrap his arms around him to forge a future?

  “Ryan Madison.”

  He didn’t extend a hand, either. Ben realized his brother was content to keep a distance between them.

  “Thank you for coming,” Ben said. “Maybe we should get a cup of coffee. I feel like I have a lot to explain to you.”

  “No. You don’t.” Ryan shrugged at him. “The woman who found me was pretty persuasive. She filled me in on the facts.”

  “I see.”

  “Sorry about your daughter. My niece, I guess.”

  Ben eyed his brother. “I guess so.”

  “I went i
n to say hello to her, but she was asleep.”

  Ben remained silent, though he appreciated Ryan’s efforts.

  “Tell you what,” Ryan said finally. “Why don’t we do it this way? Your daughter is very ill and doesn’t need a stray uncle popping into her life right now. She doesn’t need to know I was here, unless you think it’s for the best. If I’m a match for her, I’ll donate. Later, when she’s well, we can get together. I’d very much like to get to know her. But as shell-shocked as I am, I see no reason to upset her world with…me. She needs to focus on getting well.”

  Ben felt tears begin to haze his vision. “You may have a good plan,” he said. “I know this is hard for you.”

  Ryan shrugged again. “It’s weird as hell. All I care about right now is finding out if I can help. If not, I’m going to be sorry, but…”

  “Don’t worry. There’s not much any of us can do. You’re just about my last hope, and I know it’s a thin one.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ryan stood quietly staring at him. After a moment, he reached out and put a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I’m avoiding all the other details right now, but one day, I’d like to hear about my—our—birth parents, and what the hell happened exactly, and why the doc picked me. All that. But not now.”

  “I understand. Another time.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  “I’ve got to head out. I’m sure you’ll hear as soon as they know about my match potential.”

  Ben nodded. “Thanks.” He clasped the hand that Ryan still kept on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

  They moved apart, and Ryan slowly turned away, his stride even as he walked down the corridor. Ben took a breath, his chest not expanding. “Brother,” he said quietly.

  He went into Lucy’s room and looked down at his sleeping angel. Tucking one strand of hair away from her face, he noticed the stuffed animal she held.

  It was a fuzzy, floppy pony, just right for fitting under her arm. A card with sparkles on a long-maned pony lay on the table beside her bed, and Ben picked it up to read.

  “Lucy, take good care of this pony. One day, we’ll ride one together. Your friend, Ryan Madison.”

  And for some reason he couldn’t explain, Ben put his head down and wept.

  * * *

  “NOT A MATCH,” the nurse repeated to Ben the next day. “Ryan Madison was not a preliminary match for Lucy. I’m sorry.”

  The blood thundered in his ears. Quietly, he hung up the phone. Even though he’d known there was a chance that his twin might not match, even though he’d understood the long-shot odds, every fiber of his being had been straining with fervent hope that a miracle might happen for Lucy.

  He had to call Marissa and tell her. He’d have to call Carolyn and let her know, too.

  But he couldn’t right now, because a black hole of despair was swallowing him.

  * * *

  IN HER APARTMENT, Carolyn hung up the phone, stunned. “Ben left a message at the office. His brother wasn’t a match for Lucy,” she told Christine.

  “Oh, no! Poor Ben!” Christine looked up at her sister, her face clouding with concern. “Poor you. Are you going to be okay?”

  Carolyn waved that off. “I’m going to be fine. I just feel so bad for Ben and for Lucy. I mean, time is running out and—oh, God. I can’t even think about it.” She started to cry, her emotions spilling over into utter hopelessness.

  Christine got up, her arms encircling her. “Baby sister,” she said softly. “You’ve done your best. That was all Ben and Lucy wanted.”

  “It isn’t enough.”

  “No one can do more than you did.” Christine gently led her over to the sofa, sitting her down and pulling her head to rest on her shoulder. Gently, she held Carolyn against her, while the heartbreak engulfing her sister took its toll.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS LATER, Carolyn still hadn’t heard from Ben. She expected that he was probably reeling from meeting his brother and from learning that there were no good match possibilities yet. Lucy’s situation was dire enough that emergency donors would soon be factored in, putting Ben in a difficult position. Carolyn wanted to call him, but she knew it wasn’t the right time.

  With everything in his life in upheaval, he wasn’t turning to her, and she tried to ignore the tiny sting to her heart that knowledge brought. It was vanity on her part; it was selfish.

  She had done her job, and no doubt he would thank her later.

  I didn’t want to be thanked. I wanted to give Ben something he needed. If I wasn’t the right woman for him, I wanted to at least be the right match for his daughter. If I couldn’t give him children, I wanted to give his daughter life.

  She sighed, shrugging off the despondency. “You shouldn’t be such a need-bag,” she told herself sternly. “You’re going to end up like Christine, chasing Rasputins because you’re so narcissistic.”

  Actually, her sister seemed to be undergoing a change of sorts, which Carolyn had noticed despite her worry over Lucy. Christine seemed quieter, more focused. When Carolyn got home last night, there was a stir-fry on the stove and a note that said, “Sorry you have to eat alone. I’ve got to work out. Enjoy.”

  It was almost as if Christine had known that a good dinner of calming Chinese food and a night in her apartment alone would nourish her soul.

  The bathroom towels were freshly laundered every day. The dishes were out of the dishwasher when Carolyn came home from work.

  It was all very strange from a sister who was used to being the center of attention and having everything done for her.

  Suddenly the apartment door opened. Christine sailed in, a flowing dress billowing around her long legs and her hair piled on top of her head.

  “You look like a model,” Carolyn told her.

  “I feel like a model,” Christine said. “Guess what?”

  “Rasputin called?”

  “Oh, hell, no,” Christine replied with enthusiasm. “That wouldn’t make me smile.” She drew herself up with pride and did a little twirl. “Don’t get all excited, because there’s still a long road ahead, but…I’m a preliminary match for Lucy. Thank God I didn’t get that butterfly tattoo on my butt I’ve been wanting, huh?”

  Astonishment parted Carolyn’s lips; her brain whirled with a thousand thoughts she couldn’t untangle, so she blurted the insignificant first. “What does a tattoo have to do with donor matching?”

  “If I’d gotten that tattoo, it would have deferred my eligibility for a year.” Christine flopped down on the sofa next to Carolyn, a happy smile on her face. “There were a ton of questions I had to answer, and lots of criteria. But who would have thought that coming home to soak up some of your good sense would have me ending up as a marrow donor?”

  “Christine, you’re going too fast.” Carolyn felt as if she were babbling, too, not processing all that was being said in her excitement. “You can’t soak up common sense. Donating isn’t going to solve your problems.”

  “No, but being sensible made me stay away from a man who was bad news for me. I mean, sooner or later, I have to start being realistic about this. I want a good man, someone who’s going to love me, and all that. But I have to start with me. I came home to confess to little sissy, I guess, because I knew you’d say something hard-hitting like, ‘Christine, if you lie down with dogs, you get up with crabs.’“

  “Fleas.”

  “Look.” Christine reached into her purse and pulled out a leaflet. “Right here. If you are at risk for HIV or other sexually transmitted diseases, blah-blah-blah, numerous sexual partners, etcetera, etcetera.” She looked at Carolyn. “I had a terrible crush on him, you know. I just know it would have ended up hurting me. But now I can donate, because I have nothing in my sexual history that would exclude me.�
�� She beamed at Carolyn. “I came running right here as soon as I realized my sexual attraction was blacking out my common sense.”

  “You don’t even like Ben. And you don’t even know Lucy,” Carolyn pointed out.

  “It doesn’t matter. I mean, I do like Ben. I want someone solid of my own one day, Carolyn. And I don’t need to know Lucy to want to help.” She smiled at her sister, her eyes bright with mischief. “I couldn’t stand for my baby sister to be crying the other night. So I thought, heck, I doubt I’m a match, but I might as well get over being afraid of needles if I’m going to get a tattoo.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Carolyn murmured. “You’re the last person I would have ever dreamed might come through for Lucy.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up too high. I have all sorts of tests I have to endure tomorrow. This isn’t going to be easy, and I hope you’ll let me stay here that long.”

  “Of course! I might even change your sheets and wait on you a little.”

  Christine laughed at her. “I never refuse pampering.”

  Carolyn sat straight up. “Does Ben know?”

  “No, and maybe we shouldn’t tell him just yet. It would be cruel to get his hopes up, don’t you think?”

  “It might be cruel to let him keep thinking there’s no hope.” Carolyn stood up and walked over to look out her apartment window. “I haven’t talked to him in a couple of days, so I don’t know how he’s taking everything.”

  “You should call him,” Christine advised, staring at her fingernails. “I took off my fingernail polish because I wasn’t certain if they’d want to see my real nails or not, and I feel naked.”

  Carolyn shook her head at her sister’s wandering focus. “I imagine he’s very busy.”

  “Oh, quit being so conservative. He’d probably welcome hearing a friendly voice.” She looked up at Carolyn. “You could trim about six inches off those skirts you wear, too, Carolyn. And maybe borrow a pair of my high heels.”

  “Are you politely saying that I should pursue Ben Mulholland more aggressively?”

  “I’m just saying that not calling him in his hour of need is a little selfish, maybe. When you were in the hospital with your hysterectomy, did you feel like calling anyone?”