by Irene Hannon
Jake had never thought of Maggie as a particularly strong woman. But his assessment of her had changed radically in the last few weeks. She was clearly capable of handling emergencies alone. If she wasn’t, she couldn’t have survived the last twelve years. But that didn’t mean she had to, not anymore. Not if he had anything to say about it, he decided, jamming his hands into his pockets, fists clenched, as a fierce surge of protectiveness swept over him.
The sudden movement caught Maggie’s eye and she jerked convulsively, half rising to her feet as she turned to him. The frantic look in her eyes changed to confusion as his identity registered. Was that Jake? she asked herself uncomprehendingly. And if so, why was he here? She hadn’t prayed for him to miraculously appear to comfort her, to hold her, to help her survive, as she had so many times in the past during times of trauma. And yet...here he was. Or was it just a dream? she wondered, closing her eyes as she wearily sank back into her chair and reached up to rub her forehead.
The warm hand that clasped her icy one a moment later wasn’t a dream, though, and her eyelids flew open.
“Jake?” Her voice was uncertain, questioning, as if she couldn’t believe he was really there.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed softly as he reached over and pried a paper cup of cold coffee out of her other hand, then took that hand in his warming clasp, as well.
“But...what are you doing here?”
“I stopped by Whispering Sails, and the woman on duty told me you were here. What happened, Maggie?”
She drew a deep, shuddering breath and spoke in short, choppy sentences. “Some guy ran a stop sign. Rammed Allison’s car on the passenger side. He walked away. But her...her head hit the window. It knocked her out. She was still unconscious when they brought her in. They haven’t told me anything yet. But I’m afraid.... She’s so young, and... Oh, Jake!” A sob rose in her throat and she bowed her head as a wave of nausea swept over her. Dear God, please let Allison be all right, she prayed fiercely. Please! She has her whole life still to live!
Jake watched helplessly as Maggie’s slender shoulders bowed under the burden of desperate worry. Without even considering what her reaction might be, he put his arm around her and pulled her close.
For a moment, Maggie was sorely tempted to accept the comfort of his arms. A part of her longed to simply let go, to burrow into the haven he offered, to let his solid strength add stability to a world that at the moment seemed terribly shaky. Part of her wanted that badly.
But another part sounded a warning. Don’t get used to this, Maggie. Don’t even think about leaning on this man. You did that once, remember, and where did it leave you? Alone, to pick up the pieces. You’ve handled crises before. You don’t need him to make it any easier. Because even if he helps you through this one, he won’t be there the next time. And it will be that much harder to face if you accept his support even one time.
Jake felt her go absolutely still, and he waited, holding his breath. He hoped she would simply let him hold her, that she would accept his actions at face value—as the compassion of a friend. But when her body grew rigid and she pulled away, he knew he’d lost this round. Reluctantly he let her go.
“Ms. Fitzgerald?”
Maggie’s head shot up and she was on her feet instantly. “Yes.”
The white-coated figure walked into the room and held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Jackson.” He turned to Jake quizzically as he took Maggie’s hand.
“Th-this is Jake West,” Maggie told him. “He’s a...a friend of the family.”
The two men shook hands, and then the doctor turned his attention back to Maggie. “Let’s sit down for a minute, okay?”
Jake watched her carefully. He could tell from the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she was scared to death, and despite her rejection moments before, he decided to risk taking her hand. Maybe she’d allow that minimal intimacy. He wanted—needed—her to feel a connection between them, a tactile reassurance that she was not alone. And this time she didn’t protest his touch, he noted with relief. In fact, she almost seemed unaware of it, though she gripped his hand fiercely.
“Your niece has a slight concussion, Ms. Fitzgerald, and a bruised shoulder. Nothing more, it appears. She was very lucky that the other driver hit the passenger side of the car. We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, but she should be fine.”
Jake could sense Maggie’s relief as her body went limp. “Thank God,” she whispered fervently.
“You can see her now if you’d like.”
“Yes.” She nodded and rose quickly. “If you’ll just show me the way, Doctor...”
“Of course.”
“I’ll wait here for you,” Jake told her.
She stopped and turned back to him with a frown. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
Maggie was too exhausted to argue. Besides, she had a strong suspicion it wouldn’t do any good anyway. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”
“I’m in no hurry.” Before she could argue further, Jake settled into one of the chairs and picked up a magazine.
Short of telling him to get lost, Maggie was left with no choice but to follow the doctor.
She reappeared in thirty minutes, and Jake looked at her in surprise, rising quickly when she entered. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Allison’s all settled now. She wanted me to go home and get some rest.” She didn’t tell him that when Allison found out Jake was there, she’d just about pushed her aunt out the door.
“I think she’s right. You look done in, Maggie.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a long day.” She brushed a hand wearily across her eyes, and Jake noted that her fingers were still trembling. She was clearly in no condition to drive, he realized.
“Listen, Maggie, why don’t you let me take you home?”
Her startled gaze flew to his. “But...my car is here.”
“Do you need it for anything else today?”
“No.”
“Then leave it here. I’ll bring you back tomorrow to pick up Allison.”
“That’s too much trouble, Jake. I couldn’t let you do that.”
Couldn’t or wouldn’t? he wondered, deciding to try a different tact. “Come on, Maggie,” he cajoled. “I know you’re a strong woman and very capable of running your own life, but it’s okay sometimes to let other people help. Besides, my mother always taught me to do at least one good deed a day. If you cooperate, I can count this for today.”
Maggie was torn. In all honesty, she felt too shaky to drive. And she was exhausted. But she definitely did not want to feel indebted to Jake, didn’t want to owe him anything.
“Look, Maggie, this is an offer with no strings, okay?” he assured her, as if reading her mind. He’d been pretty good at that once, she recalled. It was rather disconcerting to think he still was. “And if you feel that you have to do something to repay me, here’s a suggestion. You can go with me to pick up Dad at the airport next week. A familiar face might help smooth over what’s sure to be a rocky beginning.”
Maggie considered his request. It seemed like a reasonable trade.
“Okay,” she agreed. “That seems fair.”
A relieved smile chased the tension from his face. “Great. Let’s head home.”
When he took her arm and guided her toward the door, she didn’t pull away as she had earlier. His protective touch felt comforting. Not that she’d let it happen again, of course. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, she’d feel stronger. And then she’d keep her distance.
* * *
“Well, this is it.”
Maggie turned to look up at Jake as they waited near the exit ramp of the plane, noting his tense expression. She wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right, but s
he wasn’t sure that was true. From what Jake had told her, he and his father wouldn’t have an easy time of it. Still, she wished there was some way to ease his mind, offer him some hope. With sudden inspiration she reached up and touched his arm.
“Jake, do you remember the verse from Proverbs? ‘Entrust your works to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.’ It’s been a great comfort to me through the years. I know you face an uphill battle with your dad, and I’m not sure anyone can make it any easier for you. But there is a greater power you can turn to, you know. Prayer might help.”
Jake glanced down at her with a wry smile and covered her hand with his. “Well, it sure couldn’t hurt.”
Just then the passengers began to emerge, and Maggie felt Jake stiffen, almost as if he was bracing for a blow.
A few moments later Howard West appeared. At least she thought it was Jake’s father. But the frail figure trudging wearily toward the waiting area bore little resemblance to the robust man Maggie remembered. There was nothing in his dejected posture or delicate appearance to suggest the man she had once known. Maggie’s grip on Jake’s arm tightened, and she felt a lump rise to her throat.
Jake looked down at her. He should have prepared Maggie for his father’s deteriorated appearance, he realized.
“He’s changed a lot since Mom died,” Jake murmured gently. “And even more since the heart attack.”
She nodded silently and he saw the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. “I guess I should have expected something like this,” she admitted, a catch in her voice. “But somehow I never thought that...well, I don’t know, he just seems so...so lost...”
Jake glanced back toward his father and nodded. When he spoke, his own voice was slightly uneven. “I know. He should have made a better recovery. But after Mom died, he lost interest in a lot of things, and once he had the heart attack he just sort of gave up on life. He keeps getting more frail. It’s hard to accept sometimes. He was always so strong.”
Howard looked up then. His gaze fell first on Jake, and his eyes were so cool, Maggie could almost feel the chill. His mouth tightened into a stubborn line and he lifted his chin slightly, defiantly as the two men looked at each other across a distance that was more than physical. They remained like that for several seconds, until finally, sensing a need to break the tension, Maggie took a step forward and smiled.
Howard transferred his gaze to her, and the transformation in his face was astonishing. The glacial stare melted and the line of his lips softened as a genuine smile of pleasure brightened his face.
“Hi, Pop,” she greeted him, using her pet term of endearment for him.
“Maggie.” He held out his arms. “Nobody’s called me that in years. Aren’t you going to give this old man a hug?”
She stepped into his embrace, and his thin, bony arms closed around her. There was almost nothing to him, she realized in alarm as she affectionately returned the hug. When they finally drew apart there was a telltale sheen to his eyes.
“Maggie girl,” he repeated, still holding her hands. “You look wonderful. A sight for sore eyes, I can tell you. I heard you were here, but I didn’t expect you to come and meet me. I’m glad you did, though. It does a body good to see such a friendly face in a strange place.”
Maggie knew Jake was right behind her, knew he’d heard his father’s comment. She was sure it had cut deeply. And she was equally sure that was Howard’s intent. Clearly the gulf between the two of them had widened dramatically through the years, she thought in dismay.
“Hello, Dad.”
Howard reluctantly transferred his gaze from Maggie to Jake. “Hello,” he said flatly.
“Did you have a good trip?”
“It was bumpy. And long.”
“Then let’s get your luggage and head home so you can rest.”
“I don’t need to rest.”
Before Jake could respond, Maggie tucked her arm in Howard’s and began walking toward the luggage carousels. “You’re a better traveler than me, then,” she declared with a smile. “I’m always tired after a long plane trip. And Atlanta to Maine certainly qualifies.”
“Well, I might be a little tired,” he admitted.
“Maybe a short nap would be nice when you get home.”
“Maybe it would.”
Although Howard conversed readily enough with Maggie, and his eyes even took on their old sparkle a couple of times, she quickly became aware that he was doing his best to ignore his son. Several times she tried to draw Jake into the conversation, but Howard would have none of it. Finally she gave up.
When Jake pulled into the parking lot of Whispering Sails, Howard leaned forward interestedly. “Is this your place, Maggie?”
“Yes. And the bank’s,” she teased.
“Well, it’s mighty pretty. And a nice view, too.”
“Thanks, Pop. It’s been our home for a long time now. We love it here.”
“I can see why. What’s that over there?” He pointed to a small structure of weathered clapboard about a hundred yards from the house.
“That’s our cottage. It’s a little roomier and more private than the house. Some of our guests come back and stay there every year. I’ll give you a tour soon, if you’d like.”
He nodded eagerly. “That would be great.”
She reached back then, and clasped his hand warmly. “You take care now, okay, Pop?”
He held on to her hand as if it was a lifeline, the strength of his grip surprising her. “Is that tour a promise, Maggie?”
The plea in his eyes made her throat tighten, and her heart was filled with compassion and affection for this man she’d once loved like a father. Cutting her ties with Jake’s parents had been very painful, but at the time it had seemed the best way to preserve her sanity and start a new life. She’d never stopped missing them, though. And she was more than willing to do what she could to ease the difficult transition for this man who had lost not only his wife, but his health, his home and now his independence.
“Of course. Give me a call once you’re settled and we’ll have lunch.”
“I’d like that.” When he at last reluctantly released her hand, she reached for the door handle.
“I’ll walk Maggie to the door, Dad.”
“That’s not necessary, Jake,” she said quickly.
“I insist.”
“At least some of your good manners stuck with you,” Howard muttered.
A muscle in Jake’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Maggie quickly stepped out of the car and met him at the path to the house, deciding not to protest when he took her arm. She wasn’t going to give him the cold shoulder, too.
“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?” she conceded quietly.
“And not apt to get much better any time soon, I’m afraid.”
He paused when they reached the porch and raked his fingers wearily through his hair. “Thanks for going today, Maggie. I think it was good for Dad to see a friendly face, as he so bluntly put it.”
There was a touch of bitterness—and despair—in Jake’s voice, and though Maggie had her own unresolved issues with this man, she couldn’t help but feel compassion for his plight. Impulsively she reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll keep you both in my prayers, Jake,” she promised with quiet sincerity.
“Thanks. We could use them. Goodbye, Maggie.”
As he walked back to rejoin his father, Jake thought about Maggie’s last comment. He wasn’t much of a praying man, not anymore. In fact, it had been so long since he’d talked to the Lord that he doubted if his voice would even be recognized. But maybe the Lord would listen to Maggie.
Jake hoped so. On his own, he wasn’t sure he could ever make peace with the stony-faced man waiting in his car. It would take the intervention of a greater power to bring about s
uch a reconciliation. In fact, it would take a miracle. And unfortunately, Jake thought with a sigh, he hadn’t witnessed many of those.
Chapter Five
Jake slowly opened his eyes, glanced at the bedside clock with a groan, then pulled the sheet back over his shoulder and turned on his side. Even after all his years in the navy, living by rigid timetables that often included unmercifully early reveille, he’d never adjusted to getting up at the crack of dawn. Okay, so maybe eight o’clock didn’t exactly qualify as the crack of dawn. But it was still too early to get up on a Sunday morning.
He had just drifted back to sleep when an ominous clatter in the kitchen rudely awakened him. Obviously his father was up, he thought wryly. As he’d discovered in the last couple of days, Howard was an early riser. But he usually tried to go about his business quietly until Jake appeared. Clearly, however, his father was in no mood to humor him this morning.
With a resigned sigh Jake swung his feet to the floor. He supposed he should look on the bright side. At least they hadn’t come to blows yet. On the other hand they’d barely spoken since Howard’s arrival. Jake had tried to engage his father in conversation, but the older man’s responses were typically monosyllables or grunts.
Jake frowned as Howard noisily dropped something onto the counter. For whatever reason, his father appeared to be in a worse mood than usual today.
Jake pulled on his jeans and combed his fingers through his hair. Might as well find out what was in the old man’s craw. Whatever it was, Jake had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with him.
He padded barefoot toward the kitchen, pausing on the threshold to survey the scene. Howard had apparently already eaten breakfast, judging by the toast crumbs on the table and the almost-empty cup on the counter. A crusty oatmeal pot added to the unappetizing mess. Jake jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath.
“I would have made breakfast for you, Dad.”
“I might starve waiting for you to get up,” the older man replied brusquely.
Jake felt a muscle tighten in his jaw, but he tried to maintain a pleasant, civil tone. “I spent a lot of years in the navy getting up early, Dad. I like to sleep in when I can. I’ll be on my new job in less than a month, back to a regular schedule. I’m enjoying this while I can.”