Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: Bayou Sweetheart\The Firefighter's New Family\Season of Redemption (20 page)

Tomas took her hand and held it in his. “You were being you, Callie. It's okay.”

Callie wanted to believe him, but she was so tired. “I planted a Gerber daisy. I love Gerber daisies. They were blooming a bright red. For my back porch.”

“I'm sure they're very pretty.”

“Someone will need to water them for me.”

“I'll make sure your daisies are taken care of.”

“And Elvis. He'll wonder where I am. He likes to go out early in the morning.”

“I'll make sure Elvis is safe.”

She stared up at him and saw the anguish he was trying so hard to hide. Callie wanted to kiss Tomas, to hold him, to tell him that she loved him so much. But...she might not be able to hold to that promise. She wouldn't tell him that, not until she could stand on her own two feet and hold him in her arms.

“You should go,” she said, anger and frustration coloring her tone. “I don't need you staying here all night. I have nurses, and the doctors probably don't even want you in here.”

“I'm not leaving.”

“You have to go and check on Elvis.”

Tomas let out a sigh. “I will do that, and I'll water your daisy, but later.”

“And you'll make Papa and Alma go, too.”

“Yes. Now rest.”

She closed her eyes. But she was wide-awake now. “Tomas, will you do me one more favor?”

He smiled a tired, sleepy smile. “Anything.”

“Go and see your father.”

Chapter Twenty-One

T
omas stood at the double doors of the long elegant hallway, his gaze centered on the door at the end of the hall. This would be the longest walk of his life.

But he'd promised Callie.

She was weak and in pain, the infection taking over her body. And she'd asked this one favor of him.

It didn't matter that he'd quietly brought in specialists and experts to save her. It didn't matter that Tomas had prayed, had thought over his own miserable life. It didn't matter that he loved her and wanted a chance with her.

It only mattered right now that he had to do this for Callie. To tell her he'd done it for her.

Do it for yourself.

Tomas ignored that voice and started walking the long, tiled hallway. His gaze swept over the tranquil paintings by local artists, some by the residents here. Nice and probably good for morale. Pretty and pleasant in spite of the antiseptic smell. This wing was new and clean and soothing.

He should know. His money had built it.

At the time, he'd thought the joke was on his dying father, Gerard Dubois. Now, ha-ha, the joke was on him. He couldn't save any of them, especially himself.

Callie thinks you're salvageable.

Maybe God thinks you're worth saving, too.

He stopped at the set of wooden doors that would take him into his father's suite of rooms. Tomas swallowed, closed his eyes and knocked.

A private nurse he'd interviewed and hired but only spoken to on the phone since, opened the door, her gaze going wide at seeing him here. “Hello, Mr. Delacorte.”

“Hello, Beth. How is he?”

“Restless. It's hard to know if he's in the here and now or...reliving a long-ago memory.”

Tomas thought that sounded a lot like his own days, too.

He nodded to the nurse and walked past the den-and-kitchen combo to the big bedroom at the end of the suite. A set of bay windows offered a view of the secluded courtyard full of azaleas and dwarf magnolia trees. A palm tree swayed in the wind near a fountain that constantly flowed in a soft, melodious pattern down into a small lily pond.

If only the old man in the bed could see that view.

Tomas stopped at the foot of the bed and stared at his father. He could leave now and he would have fulfilled his obligation. He'd come here and he'd seen his father.

It was enough for him.

But not for Callie. She demanded all of him. She wanted all of him for God, too. Grace, love, hope, redemption. Those were Callie's whispered words to him.

“Go, Tomas. Go and see him and forgive him before he dies. It's not for his sake. It's for your sake. You can't know love or hope or redemption until you've given someone else the grace of Christ. It will heal you.”

Tomas closed his eyes, determined to keep the tears at bay. He didn't need healing. He needed to understand.

“What are you doing here?”

Startled, he opened his eyes to stare into his father's face. And saw his own reflection there.

“I...wanted to see how you're doing.”

“I'm dying. What's to see?”

“Are you being treated well?”

“Better than most. But if I could, I'd get out of here and never come back.”

Tomas had once relished this gilded prison. When he'd first heard the old man was living in a dirty corner of an unkempt nursing home, he'd felt a sense of vengeance followed by a twinge of humanity. So he'd visited other retirement centers and found this one and moved the old man here. Then to really turn the screws, he'd built a whole new wing in his father's name. After he'd had Gerard Dubois settled nicely into his new suite, Tomas had introduced himself. Just to show the man that he was now a prisoner in his son's life.

That meeting had not gone over very well.

His father had not been repentant.

Now he had to wonder why he should show this selfish man any mercy.

“What do you want?” Gerard asked through a gurgling cough.

Tomas wondered that himself. “I don't know,” he said, honesty his shield. “I've met a wonderful woman and I'm in love with her, but she's gravely ill.”

“Your track record with women isn't so great is it, son?”

Tomas almost shouted “Don't call me son,” but instead he laughed. “I guess not.”

His father gazed up at him with sunken eyes. “So you're in love and you've come here to gloat? Or maybe you've come here to tell me to just go on and die?”

“I'm in love and I came here because she thought it might help me if I...finally forgive you.”

His father stilled on the bed, his expression full of shock and hope. “Can you do that?”

“I've been trying to do that for most of my life, sir.”

Gerard grunted, clutched at the covers. “Me, too, son. Me, too.” He cleared his throat and stared up at the ceiling. “I don't know how to explain what I did to your mother and you. I was young and married and stupid. I had this image to uphold, you know.”

“Yes, I know all about your image.”

“You've become a man of means and I have to say, while I didn't have anything to do with it, I'm still proud of you.”

Once, long ago, that kind of recognition from his father would have pleased Tomas. Now it only left him empty. “You had nothing to do with my life, so you don't need to praise me now.”

Gerard reared up then fell back against the pillows. “I take that back. I had everything to do with your life. You just didn't know it. Margie and Bob? I asked them to watch after you and your mom. Tried to pay 'em but they turned me down flat on that.”

Tomas couldn't speak. “I don't believe you.”

“I don't care what you believe. It's too late for convincing now, anyway. The man who took you under his wing and gave you a job in real estate? I knew him from some early dealings. I had him reporting to me on your schooling and your salary, and while I never had to pay your way, I was always there waiting in the wings. Watching out for...my only son.”

Tomas moved toward the bed, ready to lash out. But when he saw a single tear slipping down his father's wizened face, he stopped and thought of Callie. He should be with her right now. Not with this man he didn't even know. So he softened his reaction and planned to end this and hurry back to her.

“Why didn't you ever tell me? Why didn't you acknowledge me?”

Gerard shook his head. “I was too proud and stubborn. But...that's the past. I'm glad you're in love. Make the most of it. Go, and don't worry about me. I've more than paid for my sins.”

Tomas wondered about that. “Have you?”

Gerard let out a brittle cackle. “Look at me. Alone and dying. If you hadn't come along, I'd still be in that cesspool of a nursing home. My wife hated me and we couldn't even have children. She died hating me. What do you think? Haven't I paid for what I did to you?”

“I don't have the answer to that,” Tomas said. “But...I want to have a good life with Callie Blanchard. I love her. I want her to get well and marry me. So I'm here to say I forgive you. I forgive you for what you did to my mother and me.” He stopped, a great breath of relief washing over him. “I forgive you.”

Gerard blinked back more tears then reached out a shaking hand to his son. “I've waited to hear that since the day you were born.”

Tomas took his father's hand, his own tears cooling his heated skin. He stood there, holding his father's frail fingers in his palm until Gerard had drifted back to sleep. And then, for a while longer.

* * *

Callie smiled at the nurses hovering around her. “I'll be okay, I promise. I'll wear gloves and masks and a full bodysuit if I can avoid this again.”

The orderly helping her into a wheelchair laughed out loud. “Miss Callie, we're sure gonna miss you. You've always got that smile. We need that smile around here.”

Callie grinned and pointed to the Gerber daisy sitting on the windowsill. It was blooming to beat the band. “I'm leaving my flower with y'all. Think of me when you see it.”

They all gushed and giggled.

“I'm putting it at the nurses' station right now,” one of the nurses stated. “You have a gift with gardening, Callie.”

“I do,” Callie said, in awe. “I'm blessed.”

One of the nurses turned when the door opened. “You sure are, honey.”

Callie saw Tomas standing there with more flowers. No roses, of course, but a bright bouquet of wildflowers.

“Hi,” he said, slipping into the room. “Ready to go home?”

“Yes.” She thanked God she was better, so much better. “Are you ready to take me home?”

“Very.” He handed her the flowers then leaned down to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She could tell the difference in him almost immediately. “How's your father today?”

Tomas shook his head. “Stubborn, contrary, but...he's holding his own.”

Callie didn't press for any more details. She only knew that Tomas and his father had made their peace and now, Tomas seemed younger, stronger, more happy than she'd ever seen him. He'd come to her late one night and told her that he'd talked to Gerard Dubois. He'd cried and they'd prayed together, thanking God for this grace. Then Tomas had told her he loved her.

“Plain and simple, like that?” she'd asked.

“Not so plain and surely not so simple,” he'd replied. “But yes, just like that. From the moment I saw you out in my garden.”

Now, she kept smiling over her shoulder as Tomas followed the wheelchair out into the bright morning sunshine. Out at the car waiting at the entrance, she saw her papa with Aunt Selena, Alma, Julien, Brenna and Nick. Her family was waiting for her.

She turned back to Tomas and nodded. “My life is complete.”

He leaned down again and kissed her. “Not quite. You still have to marry me.”

And there with her family surrounding her, Callie watched in awe as Tomas got down on one knee in front of her, a tiny black box in his hand. “Will you marry me, Callie?”

Callie stared at him then glanced at her waiting family. The tears in her sisters' eyes caused her to shed a few. But when she saw her proud, sweet papa wiping at his nose, she knew she couldn't be any more blessed. The infection was gone and her doctors had assured her she was on the mend. Her cancer was in remission. She'd beat it once again. Now she only wanted to be with Tomas. “I will. I will marry you.”

The nurses and the orderly clapped and whooped while Tomas put the sweet solitaire on her finger and kissed her. “Now we can take you home,” he said.

The next spring

“You may kiss the bride.”

Tomas grinned at Reverend Guidry then turned to pull Callie into his arms. She felt so solid and sure, healthy again and strong again, his forever.

When he lifted his head, her smile shone like the sun and warmed him deep inside his heart, in that place that had hurt for so long. The place that she'd helped to heal.

All around the gazebo, their family and friends clapped and cried and hooted their approval, his father, frail but determined in his wheelchair with his nurse Beth watching out for him, included.

The beautiful spring day looked ready-made for a wedding, with lush, white Casablanca lilies scenting the air in the garden that Callie had built and nurtured in the same way she'd shaped and nurtured him.

Tomas kissed her again as they moved down from the ribbon-bedecked gazebo and followed the trail of gardenia petals to the wide terrace on the back of the house to enjoy all kinds of food and the wedding cake. Alma and Brenna traipsed around in their floral bridesmaid dresses while Nick and Julien served as best man and groomsman, respectively. Mrs. LeBlanc held her new grandson, Jules, but Alma patted her four-month-old and tugged at his fuzzy blue socks as she walked by.

Tomas didn't pay much attention to the Zydeco music or the food or the many happy people mingling in his garden. He couldn't take his eyes off the bride.

Callie, in her mother's wedding gown with a simple tiara of baby's breath as her veil, her chin-length bob of newly grown hair curly and carefree. Callie, laughing and tanned, smiling and in remission from her cancer.

Callie. His at last.

After everyone had left and his bride was huddled in a corner with her sisters, Tomas turned to find Ramon Blanchard walking toward him.

“Mr. Blanchard,” Tomas said with a handshake. “How are you, sir?”

“Call me Papa,” Ramon said, his dark eyes centered on his three girls. “I came to say I want to thank you for all you've done for my Callie.”

Tomas looked down, embarrassed. “You can have her portrait back, you know. I don't expect you to allow me to keep it.”

Ramon shook his head. “You don't understand,
mon ami.
I don't need de picture to know my daughter is beautiful and precious.”

“I don't, either,” Tomas admitted. “I have the real thing.”

“Yes, you do at dat,” Ramon said on a roll of laughter. “And I expect you paid dearly for that privilege. Don't ever take it for granted.”

“Never.” Tomas watched as Callie laughed and waved to them. “But about the portrait...”

“Keep dat, too. I can never repay you for all you've done, but if you take good care of her, dat's payment enough,
oui?
”

“Oui,”
Tomas replied, his eyes on Callie. “Now I have a new work of art.”

Ramon laughed again. “Gonna be a mighty interesting time at your house, I reckon.”

* * *

Two hours later, Callie and Tomas were back in the gazebo watching the sun setting over the bayou.

He held his bride close, the scent of her distinctively floral perfume tickling at his nose. “You are a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you. I felt beautiful today. A perfect day.”