Hearts Unfold

by Karen Welch

  “Yes, a man and a woman, both young. We've already gotten ID's on them. No obvious connection to this boy. The only thing I can figure is he must have been thrown from the car. Hard to imagine how anyone could have survived. What time did you find him?”

  “A little after one yesterday afternoon. Not long after the power went out, I guess. When did the accident happen?” Jack took note of the way her hand rested on the man’s shoulder, almost as though she were trying to comfort him.

  “Sometime before dawn. A trucker pulled over to put on chains, saw that the barricade at Charlotte Springs had been crashed and radioed me. We found the car just a little ways down. It had gone off the road on the ice, flipped and hit a tree. Like I said, it's hard to imagine how he walked away from that.”

  “So he could have been wandering around for hours. He must have been confused, but he certainly seemed determined to make it up the hill.”

  “How did you get him into the house?”

  She seemed to take a minute to compose her answer. “I wrapped him in a quilt and dragged him,” she said simply, as though it was something she did every day. When his jaw dropped in astonishment, she shrugged her shoulders. “Lots of adrenaline, I guess. I was so scared he'd die out there.”

  “Want to tell me how you happened to be here?”

  “Not right now, if you don't mind. I will after he's been taken care of.” Now as she looked up into the sunlight, her eyes, a liquid, silvery gray that again reminded him of Lilianne, were pleading with him in a way he’d never been able to refuse.

  “Do you want to go to the hospital with him?”

  “No. You’ll go, won’t you? There’s no need for me to go.”

  “You're sure?”

  “I'm sure. Do you think it will be much longer?” As if on cue, the sound of a distant siren reached their ears. With one last look, she got to her feet, gathering up a long black overcoat and the wallet. He watched her hesitate, staring down at her badly worn boots. “Do you think it would be okay if I kept these? They’re his. I lost my shoes in the snow yesterday, and I don't have another pair with me. I had to put these on to get more firewood this morning.”

  Jack blinked at her in amazement. “Yes, I think it'll be okay.”

  The ambulance was in the yard, the attendants rushing through the door with an oxygen tank, a stretcher, and a big box of gear. Emily stepped back, watching as they rapidly worked over the patient. One of them asked about his injuries and she went calmly through the list again. Within minutes, they had lifted him onto the stretcher, placed the oxygen mask over his face, and secured him beneath a mountain of brown blankets. Only the top of his head was visible, the makeshift bandage still in place, as they carried him toward the door.

  “You're sure you don't want to go?”

  “I'm sure.” She went to the window to watch the progress down the steps and across the yard, an unreadable expression on her face.

  “Okay, but I'll be back. And then we have a lot to talk about, right?”

  Emily turned to him with a tight little smile. “Right.”

  Jack could see her, as he backed the car slowly out of the gate, standing at the window watching as the attendants finished loading the stretcher and closed the rear of the ambulance. Tall and straight, her head high, she raised her hand in a tentative wave of farewell. Bone weary as he was, he knew he wouldn’t rest until he found out at least a little about what had been going on here for the past few days.

  Emily stayed by the window until the blare of the siren could be heard and she knew the ambulance had reached the highway. He was gone, on his way to safety. She could let go of him now.

  Turning back to the room, she surveyed the displaced furniture, the quilts and towels littering the floor. Just under the edge of the couch, she spotted the blood-stained pillow, pushed aside when Stani had been placed on the stretcher. Picking it up, she hugged it to her chest, feeling the circle of warmth where his head had rested. “Godspeed, Stani Moss.”

  She allowed a moment or two to fix him in her memory. The fine features, the dark eyes and his remarkable red hair, the feel of him beneath her as she had wept on his chest, strong and warm, and the soft touch of his hand. Then, straightening her shoulders, she let out a long sigh. There was nothing left to do but pray for him.

  She began to put the room to rights. Folding quilts, rolling out the rug, and moving the furniture back into place. As if a sign that things were returning to normal, the lights blinked on and she heard the welcome rumble of the furnace as it came back to life. When Jack returned, she wanted to be able to sit down by the fire with him and explain what had been going on here before the storm had come. In order to do that, she would need to remove all evidence that Stani Moss had ever been here. The sooner things looked as they had before, the sooner she could pretend nothing had been changed by his presence.

  Emily ate her lunch, gazing out over the back yard where the sunshine now beamed off the blanket of snow. Warmed by hot soup and the golden light that flooded in the windows, her spirits continued to rise. She wondered how Stani was faring, now that he was in the hands of doctors who could start him on the way to healing and getting back to his life. It would take time, but he was young. He would recover and look back at this accident as a tragedy he had survived. Would he wonder about the person who had pulled him in from the storm? Maybe; but if she kept her promise to remain just some unknown girl on a farm in the foothills, Emily was certain it would be best for both of them.

  Turning her thoughts to exactly what she would say to Jack, she acknowledged that his discovery of her here with Stani had not been the ideal way to begin her campaign to win his support. Best to be honest about what had brought her here and go forth on the theme that she was mature enough to handle even the worst situation. And mature enough to know her own mind. Poor Jack, after he got over the shock of finding her here, he might at least give her a fair hearing.

  In the meantime, she needed to get on with the work at hand, wash her dishes and bring in more firewood; and it was time to move the little figurines along their way to the stable. Tomorrow, she realized, was Christmas Eve.

  Chapter Ten

  The telephone finally rang at one fifteen. Jana ran into the bedroom to pick up the extension, as Milo answered at his desk. It wasn't Stani. The man on the line identified himself as a member of the Virginia Highway Patrol. He asked if he had reached the residence of Stanley Moss. For a moment, Milo couldn't draw a breath to answer. He felt suddenly cold, as if he'd been struck by a blast of icy wind. Through the open door, he saw Jana sit down abruptly on the bed, staring straight ahead.

  He must have replied because the officer then asked him for his name. He asked if Mr. Scheider was a relative, to which Milo heard himself respond that he and Stani were business partners. By this time, the pounding of his own heart threatened to prevent him from hearing what the officer was telling him. He knew he must listen very carefully; he was responsible for whatever had happened to Stani. There had been an accident, the man was saying, early yesterday morning. A man carrying a driver's license issued to Stanley Moss had been found after wandering away from the site. Could Mr. Scheider give him the number for a member of Mr. Moss's family?

  The officer was obviously taking great care not to say too much. Milo fought the rising urge to scream into the telephone. He needed to know what had happened, where he would need to go to get Stani back. He couldn't stand here any longer doing nothing. He heard himself calmly explain to the officer that there was no family. He and his wife had raised Stani.

  At last, the officer seemed to let down his guard. He told Milo that Stani had been taken by ambulance to the hospital at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville where he was being treated for injuries and exposure. He offered to give Milo the phone number for the hospital's emergency room. Jana spoke breathlessly into the phone. How seriously was Stani injured? Responding to the maternal concern in her voice, he replied “Ma'am, from what I understand, he's
lucky to be alive. It's a miracle he was able to walk away from that car. The driver and another passenger were killed instantly.” Jana whispered her thanks and dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

  Once Milo had spoken to a doctor who could tell him more about Stani's condition, he began to make rapid preparations. Finally, here was something he could do, the kind of thing he did best. He contacted doctors he knew through their mutual involvement on various arts boards, was referred to the needed specialists, then in turn telephoned them, explaining the situation, asking them to contact the emergency room doctor in Virginia. At their recommendation, he made arrangements for a private ambulance to bring Stani back to New York. He wanted as much control as possible over Stani's initial treatment. He couldn't trust the doctors in Virginia to recognize how essential the treatment of the shoulder injury in particular would be to Stani's ultimate recovery.

  Lastly Milo telephoned Robert, still awaiting his orders in Washington. He was to pick up Stani's bag and his violin from the hotel and return immediately. He recognized the shock and concern in Robert's voice, as he promised to go right away. Milo then contacted the radio production office and the music director at the church. Both assured him they would be praying for Stani's recovery.

  As he made some final notes on the list he had compiled in the course of arranging for Stani's return, Milo was struck by the universal response to the boy's situation. Everyone, from his driver to the finest physicians and surgeons in New York, not to mention his musical colleagues, had reacted with the same genuine concern, offering whatever support might be needed. He often worried that he had somehow isolated the boy, in the effort to protect him from exploitation; but now Milo had to acknowledge that Stani was respected and loved for himself. Those prayers offered might well be needed in the days ahead. But more than that, Stani would need to be shielded from too much attention, until the extent of these injuries could be determined. Making an additional note at the bottom of his list, one word—Security—Milo packed his briefcase and went in search of Jana.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was past dark when Jack returned. Standing at the window, Emily watched the beam of the headlights bounce across the snow-covered yard, and her heart began to pound against her ribs. It seemed to take hours for Jack to pick his way through the now-icy path created by the earlier traffic. The once pristine blanket of white was a churned-up maze of tire tracks and footprints, the only thing left behind that she had not been able to clear away.

  Before she could ask, Jack answered her question. “He made the trip just fine. They were very impressed with what you did for him. He was still unconscious, but they didn't seem to think his injuries were life-threatening. And we were able to contact his manager through the state police.”

  The news brought a lump to her throat, and she fought for composure. He was all right. He was safely where he would be taken care of now. She could let him go.

  Jack held out a bag, watching her eyes widen at the sight of the greasy spots on the paper. “Hungry?”

  Peering inside, she let out a long, low “ooh.” “How did you know I was starving for a hamburger? And fries, too? Oh, Jack, thank you!” She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him off balance. “Come on! Let's eat them while they're still warm!” Taking the carton of colas from his hand, she headed for the kitchen.

  While she unpacked their dinner, Jack sat down wearily at the kitchen table. “You know you should get a medal or something for what you did?”

  Caught in the act of cramming fries in her mouth, Emily frowned, her dark brows lowering expressively. “About that. I really don't want anyone to know. I don't want to have to answer a lot of questions. It would be too embarrassing.”

  “Embarrassing? You saved a man's life. How could that be embarrassing?” Jack eyed her skeptically, immediately suspicious.

  “It's my business. I don't want to become the topic of conversation at the coffee shop on Monday morning.”

  Jack nodded, knowing she referred to the group of town fathers who gathered every Monday to mull over the problems of the world. “I see. I suppose that makes sense. It would be pretty sensational. 'How about the Haynes girl rescuing that handsome young fellow from the blizzard?' They could make something of that for sure.”

  Emily grinned at his imitation of the eldest member of the group. But Jack couldn't help seeing the color that rose in her cheeks. Lowering her eyes, she took a delicate bite of her burger. “This is so good! You wouldn't believe how many ham sandwiches I've eaten in the past few days.”

  “So how long were you planning to stay here before you let me know what you were up to?”

  “Oh, just a few more days. But then I prayed you'd come, after. . .after the storm came.” Again she blushed, this time much more deeply.

  “We have a lot to talk about, Em. Where do you think we should start? Maybe with the fact that you lied to me?” Despite the grimness of his expression, she thought she detected a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

  “I'm sorry, Jack. But it was the only way. You'd never have let me come alone if I'd told you what I wanted to do. And it wasn't exactly a lie.”

  “You said you were going skiing with school friends. Poor Angela was worried you'd break a leg. She said you'd never skied in your life.” The glint in his blue eyes was sparkling a bit brighter.

  “Correction. I told you I'd been invited to go skiing. That was true.”

  “Ah, getting off on a technicality, I see. I take it you turned down the invitation?”

  “Oh, yes, immediately. Then I decided I needed to come home, and it served as the perfect basis for my little white lie.”

  “Emily Haynes, what would your father say?” Now the twinkle was at high beam.

  “He told me to come. That's what gave me the idea in the first place.” She popped the last of the fries into her mouth. “When I tell you, Jack, you'll understand.”

  “Tell me what? Honestly, Em, you can't expect me to believe J.D. knows you're here?”

  “He might. At least I think he must have hoped I'd come. But before we talk, can we clean up this mess and go sit by the fire? This may take a while, and we'd be a lot more comfortable in there.”

  With a sigh of resignation, he helped her clear away the waxed paper wrappings and watched with some amusement as she thoroughly wiped down the table top.

  In the front room, Jack pointed to the Christmas decorations. “So you came home to decorate the house for the holidays?”

  She knew he was trying to find some way to ease back to the point. “I had to clean first. The place was a mess, dust on everything. And cold! I've gone through a lot of firewood.”

  “And you think that's what your father wanted you to do this Christmas, come here alone and play house?”

  Immediately, her gray eyes sparked. “I'm not playing, Jack. And it is my house!”

  “Another technicality. Right now it belongs to a trust, which I'm technically the guardian of.”

  “You know what I mean. It's my home. Oh, Jack, I've been so unhappy. No, not just unhappy. I've been depressed. I was so lost. Then I went to visit Pop over Thanksgiving, and I think he must have known. He talked to me, Jack. He said words that meant something. I knew he wanted me to come home and figure out how to get on with my life.”

  He waited, listening without saying a word, as she told him about the visit. Encouraged that he was willing to hear her out, she described her elation when she’d realized she could build a life here, and that this was the life she was meant to have all along. When he continued to sit in silence, staring at the lights on the mantel, she hoped he was at least thinking over what she had said before he started pointing out all the flaws in her plan.

  “I'm so much happier here. I know I'll still have to finish school and get a job, but I'm sure I can figure out how to make things work as I go along. I'll need your help, Jack. But think about it; think about all they taught me. I know this place inside and out. Why not come back soon
er, rather than later?”

  She was shocked by his first words. “Have you ever considered becoming a nurse?”

  “Not really. Why would you ask that?”

  “Well, for one thing, you just saved a man's life. And I remember how great you were with your mother.” He continued to stare into space, his face unreadable.

  “I suppose I could look into it. Right now my major's human biology. I had some notion of doing medical research someday. A lot of my credits might transfer. There might be jobs around here, public health, or maybe home health. You know, the more I think about it, it just might work.”

  “You know how much work this place is. It wouldn't be easy for just one skinny little girl to do it all.” He grinned down at her, where she sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “I managed okay so far. And you'd be here to help me, wouldn't you, if I really needed something?” She returned his grin, sensing she'd at least made some headway.

  After another silence, he leaned forward. “I'll tell you what, Em. If this is what you really want, I'll do everything in my power to see that you get it.”

  So stunned at her victory that at first she could scarcely accept it, she gaped up at him. “You mean it? You really will help me?”

  “I always figured it would come to this. I just didn't expect you to take matters into your own hands quite so soon. You caught me off guard.”

  With a little yelp of joy, she jumped to her feet and threw herself on his neck. “Oh, Jack, you can't know what this means to me! I was so afraid you wouldn't understand!” Just as she had as a child, she kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. It felt so good, she thought, to hug somebody again. It had been a long time.

  “Oh, I understand. I still think you could do better than this old farm, but what do I know?” He shrugged, as she again knelt at his feet. “But let's get one thing straight. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes again, okay? I can't take too many shocks like the one I had today. When I heard there was smoke coming from up here, I was prepared for the worst. And poor old Miss Hagen was sure some of those awful hippies had moved in on you.”