A Gift from the Past (11 page)

The driver, Jeffrey Canfield, walked with Sarge to the porch stairs where he helped Sarge out of the chair. He placed the chair on top of the porch, then assisted Sarge back into the chair.

“How you doing, Claire?”

“Okay, Jeffrey, what about you?”

“Not bad.” The young man flashed her a friendly smile. “Sarge keeps me on my toes.”

“Somebody needs to,” Sarge replied.

Jeffrey laughed. “I'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place.”

“You want me to take you inside?” Claire asked when Jeffrey had left.

“No, I'd like to sit out in the fresh air for a little while.”

Claire noticed he looked more tired than she'd seen him in a while. “Hard day?” she asked.

“I'm just worn out. Where's Joshua?”

“He went for a walk.”

“You two fighting?”

Claire hesitated a moment before replying. “We talked and things got a little heated. I imagine he'll only be in town for a couple more days.”

“So, it's like that,” Sarge said. “I thought maybe the two of you might find your way back to each other.”

Tears burned at Claire's eyes and she swiped at them. She hadn't cried in years and today she
couldn't seem to stop crying. “I'm afraid, Sarge. I'm afraid that if I let him in my life once more I'll get hurt again.”

Sarge released a sigh. “Ah, Cookie, fear is a terrible thing.”

She looked at him in surprise. “What could you know about fear? You're the most fearless man I've ever known.”

“Ah, but there was a time when I was gripped by the worst fear possible,” he replied.

“When?”

“When your father and mother died and I knew you were coming to live here with me.” Sarge leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute. “I'd just lost my only child and my heart was filled with a grief I'd never known before. I wasn't at all sure I wanted to raise you…love you and then have something terrible happen to you.”

Shock swept through her as she contemplated Sarge's confession. She'd been a little girl who'd lost her parents and she'd never before contemplated the fact that when her daddy had died she hadn't been the only one who'd suffered the enormous loss.

Sarge opened his eyes once again and gazed unseeing in her direction. “Then I thought about what would happen if I kept my heart closed off to you and refused to allow you in and nothing terrible ever happened to you. That would have been the real loss.” He smiled. “When you get to
be my age, the only regrets you have are for the chances you didn't take, not the chances you did. And that's enough advice from a cranky old man. Would you mind getting me a glass of iced tea, Cookie? My mouth is bone-dry.”

“Sure. I'll be right back.” She went into the house to get the drink, her mind whirling with the implications of what Sarge had just shared with her. She poured the tea then started back out the front door.

“Here you are. Sarge!” The glass slipped from her hand and shattered as it hit the ground. Slumped against the side of his wheelchair, Sarge appeared to be unconscious. “Sarge!” she cried again and shook his shoulder. A thin rivulet of drool escaped the side of his mouth.

“Claire.”

She looked up frantically to see Joshua hurrying toward the house. “Something's wrong with Sarge. I'm going to call 911.” She hurried into the house and made the phone call, her heart jackhammering a rhythm of fear.

Please, don't take Sarge, she prayed as she hurriedly gave the operator the information. She hung up the phone and hurried back outside where Joshua stood next to Sarge, his expression stark and haunted.

“He's not responding, Cookie,” he said.

At that moment the sound of a siren split the air.

T
hey sat in the waiting room, frozen by fear as they waited to hear about Sarge's condition. Claire had ridden in the ambulance with him and Joshua had followed in the car. The minute they had reached the hospital Sarge had been whisked away, leaving Claire and Joshua to wait…and wonder…and fear.

Joshua sat in a chair, staring at a picture on a distant wall; Claire paced, frantic worry making it impossible for her to sit still.

Insulin shock. The EMTs had indicated that Sarge had gone into insulin shock. Please God, don't take him yet, she prayed as she wore out the carpeting pacing back and forth in front of where Joshua sat.

Her head felt as if it was going to split open as snippets of conversations whirled around and around: her conversation with Melinda, her fight with Joshua and Sarge's sage words spun like a cyclone wind in her head and she fought to make sense of it all.

She gazed at Joshua, who had his head back and his eyes closed. Love swelled up inside her, but that didn't surprise her. She knew she loved Joshua, had loved him since she was a young teenager and would probably love him until the day she died.

She sat down in a chair across the room from him, still looking at him. Even with the frown of worry etched deep across his forehead, he took her breath away.

Had
she frozen him out? When Sammy had died had her grief been so selfish that she'd forgotten that Joshua had lost a son also? Had he needed to hold her to affirm their love and she'd turned away from him?

It had never been her intent. She hadn't known any other way to grieve. She'd learned at an early age that Sarge was uncomfortable with any display of strong emotions, and so she'd coped on her own with the normal anguishes of growing up.

She closed her eyes and thought of Sarge's words to her.
You only regret the chances you didn't take, not the chances you did.

Please don't take Sarge, she silently prayed
again. I'm not ready to say goodbye. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to Sarge and she wasn't ready to say goodbye to Joshua.

Once again she looked at Joshua, saw the pain, the worry on his features. He loved Sarge as much as she did, so she knew all the emotions he must be feeling at this moment.

What would happen if she went over to him, sat beside him, perhaps took his hand in hers? Would it be too little, too late?

What would have happened if she'd gone to him five years ago, sat beside him, perhaps taken his hand in hers? Would it have been enough to make him stay? Had he already made his decision to leave her once again?

She thought of the picture of Sarah and Daniel and the last time she'd seen it. Sarah and Daniel and two children—four faces filled with love and devotion. A family.

How desperately she wanted to believe in that picture. How desperately she wanted that family to be her own and she wanted it with Joshua. Sarge's words echoed in her ears,
You only regret the chances you didn't take, not the chances you did.

With her heart pounding, she stood. Joshua's head was now bowed, as if he, too, was saying prayers for Sarge. Her legs trembled as she moved toward him, afraid that she'd waited too long, afraid that it was too late for second chances.

He didn't move as she eased down into the chair
next to him. He did nothing to indicate he was aware of her presence. Couldn't he hear the pounding of her heart? Didn't he sense that this moment would be the defining moment of their lives?

She gazed at his hands, each one splayed on his knees. Strong hands, with long fingers—her husband's hands. If she touched him, would he jerk away as she had done from him all those years ago?

Drawing a deep breath, she reached out and took his hand in hers. For a moment it remained inert and lifeless in her grasp and her heart cried out. Tears sprang to her eyes and she was about to pull back when his fingers curled around hers, squeezing gently in silent reply.

At that moment, Wilma flew into the waiting room. “Where is he? What's happening?”

Joshua released Claire's hand and stood. “We don't know. We're waiting for somebody to come out and tell us what's going on.”

“I was in the bathtub when I heard the ambulance. I dressed as fast as I could and got down here,” Wilma exclaimed.

It was obvious she'd dressed quickly. Her blouse was buttoned wrong and she wore one brown shoe and one black. Claire's heart expanded for this woman who obviously cared so deeply for Sarge. She might be aggressive and opinionated, but her heart was in the right place.

“Here, Wilma. Sit.” Claire gestured to the chair
next to her. As Wilma sat, Claire took her trembling hand. “You know Sarge, he's a tough old bird. I'm sure he's going to be just fine.”

“If he is fine, then I intend to give him a piece of my mind for worrying me so,” she said.

They all jumped up expectantly as Dr. George Wilburn entered the waiting room. “Dr. Wilburn, how is he?” Claire asked.

“He's stable.” A wave of relief swept through her at these words. “He confessed that he didn't eat much breakfast this morning, then went to physical therapy. The exercise on an empty stomach apparently caused his blood sugar to plummet. We'll keep him tonight and monitor him, but I think he's going to be just fine.”

“Can we see him?” Joshua asked.

“Briefly,” the doctor replied. “I don't want him tired out.”

“You two go ahead,” Wilma said. “I'll see him after you.”

Together, Joshua and Claire followed Dr. Wilburn to Sarge's room. Sarge looked small and pale in the hospital bed. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping. Claire slipped into a chair next to his bed and Joshua stood just behind her.

“Don't look so worried, Cookie, I'm fine,” Sarge said and opened his eyes.

“How do you know I look worried?” she said and leaned forward.

“Just a guess. And Joshua is here, too, isn't he?”

“I'm here, Sarge,” Joshua said. “And Wilma is out in the waiting room.”

“Ah, she didn't have to drive all the way down here.”

“She was worried, Sarge. We all were,” Claire said, love for her grandfather welling up in her heart.

“It's going to take something bigger than wonky blood sugar to get me,” Sarge replied, then sighed. “They told me they're going to keep me for the night. I don't want you two hanging around here. There's nothing more depressing than a hospital. Go home. If I need anything, I imagine Wilma will be more than happy to help me.”

He didn't want them hanging around, but it didn't sound like he intended to send Wilma away. Yes, romance was definitely in the air, Claire thought as she leaned down and kissed Sarge on the cheek.

“You rest,” she said. “And we'll be back here first thing in the morning.”

“We'll send Wilma on in,” Joshua said. Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Wilma swept into the room.

Joshua and Claire walked back to the waiting room. “Thank God he's all right,” Claire said as they stepped out of the hospital and into the warm
summer air. Now that the worry about Sarge had abated, Claire wanted—needed to talk to Joshua.

“Joshua…” she began.

He stopped walking and turned to face her, his features displaying a determination she'd never seen before. “I'm not leaving, Claire. If you want me out of your life, then you get the divorce because I don't intend to. I walked away once and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I don't intend to walk away again.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at the man she loved with all her heart, the only man in the world who could make her believe in magic. “Oh, Joshua, I don't want you to leave.” Tears splashed onto her cheeks. “I want you to forgive me.”

“Forgive you? Forgive you for what?” he asked as he pulled her into his arms and against his chest.

“Forgive me for being an idiot, forgive me for not realizing that I did freeze you out after Sammy died…”

“Shh.” He placed a finger against her lips. “We won't talk about forgiveness. I should never have left. I should have realized that time would heal, and I should have stuck around and been patient.”

He led her over to a stone bench near the hospital emergency-room door. He sat and pulled her down next to him, her hands clasped tightly in his.

“I love you, Claire. I loved you from the moment I first saw you.”

“I was always afraid that you didn't,” she confessed.

He looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

She finally found the courage to tell him what she'd feared in her heart from the moment of their marriage. “I was always afraid that you married me just because I was pregnant, not because you loved me. Then when Sammy died and you left, I believed I'd been right, that you'd loved Sammy, but not me.”

“Ah, Cookie.” He squeezed her hands tightly. “I was thrilled when we found out you were pregnant because I knew Sarge would let us get married even though we were so young. I was thrilled because I loved you, wanted you and the baby was just a wonderful dividend. It was always you—you I loved.”

His words, coupled with the shine of love in his eyes soothed forever the fear that she'd always secretly entertained.

“Joshua, if we try this again, you'll have to teach me to open up more. If I had known how to do that, then perhaps you wouldn't have left when you did.”

“I told you I'm not going anywhere ever again. I'll do whatever it takes to see that we share the rest of our lives together. Sweetheart, we suffered the most painful loss a couple can ever face when we lost Sammy. And in the fog of our grief, some
how we lost each other—and that would have broken Sammy's heart.”

She gazed at him, her eyes shining brightly. “They're smiling down on us now. Both he and Caleb are smiling down on us from heaven right now. Oh, Joshua, I love you so much.” She'd meant to say more, but his lips captured hers in a fiery kiss of need, of want, of love.

Claire knew a happiness she'd never felt before. As their kiss ended, she stared deep into his eyes. “Let's go home, Joshua,” she said softly.

Within minutes they were not only home, but in Claire's bedroom, once again kissing as they helped each other undress.

The hunger between them was overwhelming, the need to touch each other, hold each other, make love with each other.

When they were both naked, they fell back on her bed, clinging together. As his fingers caressed her, tears sprang to her eyes, tears of joy. Finally, finally she was where she belonged, in the arms of the man she loved.

Their fevered foreplay didn't last long. As he took possession of her, Claire felt a sweet sense of homecoming. This was her man, her husband, her magic and she knew in her heart that their love would see them through the tragedies and triumphs of life.

A half hour later, they remained in each other's arms, sated but reluctant to move from their em
brace. Suddenly, Claire remembered the picture of Sarah and Daniel. She jumped up and off the bed.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Joshua protested as she grabbed her robe and threw it on. “Come back here, I'm not ready to stop holding you yet.”

“I need to show you something,” she replied and bent down on her hands and knees to seek the picture she'd thrown across the room earlier in the day.

“What?” He sat up.

She stopped her hunt for a moment and looked at him. “This afternoon, after we fought, I looked at the picture of Sarah and Daniel and it had changed again.”

“Changed how?”

“There were children, Joshua. The picture showed Sarah and Daniel with two children, a young boy and a little girl.” She smiled at him. “I think the picture is a vision of our future.” She bent down again to find the photo, finally spying it beneath her dresser.

She picked it up and hurried back to the bed. As Joshua wrapped her in his arms once again, together they looked at the picture.

Claire gasped.

“What the…?” Joshua stared at the picture, then looked at Claire, his green eyes filled with wonder.

The photo no longer depicted Sarah and Daniel Walker. Rather it was of a couple they had never
seen before, a couple that looked nothing like the two of them.

Joshua turned it over and looked at the back. “It says, Joseph and Irene Woodson, 1868.” He looked at Claire once again. “The current, the electrical warmth is gone. I don't feel it anymore.”

Claire took the picture from him and held it between her fingers. He was right. Nothing emanated from the picture. She set it down on the nightstand next to the bed and turned back to Joshua. “Were they real…Sarah and Daniel…or are we both crazy?”

He smiled. “They're as real as they needed to be for us.” He pulled her into an embrace. “I believe it was magic, Cookie, that the picture of Sarah and Daniel was sent to us to accomplish one thing…”

She nodded, loving the warmth, the love that flowed from his beautiful green eyes. “To remind us of how much we love one another and that we belong together.”

“If it hadn't been for that picture, we might not have found our way back to each other. But we did and now that their mission has been accomplished, they're gone.”

Claire placed a hand on the side of his face, loving the feel of his jawline and the faint roughness of new whiskers. “That picture might have
been magic,” she said as she gazed into his eyes. “But the real magic is you and me and our love.”

His eyes darkened and once again their mouths sought each other's in a kiss that was, indeed, filled with the sweet, wonderful magic of love.