Love's Miracles (25 page)

To
her surprise, he stopped carving and came up beside her. Shading his eyes with
his hand, he peered up at the bird.

“Come
on,” he told her as he stepped out, grabbed some items that were stacked
against the wall, and headed for the open space in the meadow. “Come meet Big
Red.”

The
hawk swooped down and passed low overhead.

“Don’t
make any sudden moves,” Zane warned. “Very slowly now – step back a couple of
paces and stand very still.”

Margo’s
focus shifted from Zane to the bird and back to Zane as he unfolded a thick
piece of leather. Carefully, he took the gauntlet and wrapped it around his
left forearm. She held her breath.

Zane
held his arm up and whistled, loud and shrill. “Big Red. Come down here, fella,
and meet my new friend.”

The
hawk swooped by again.

“Don’t
tell me he’s a pet?” she whispered, careful not to move.

“I
found him when I first arrived. He was injured – shot in the wing. I nursed
him.” Zane kept his arm outstretched. “Every once in a while you come to see
me, don’t you, fella? He’s probably curious about you.”

“Come
to check me out? Right?”

Zane
smiled. Big Red flapped his huge wings and settled down on Zane’s arm, his
lethal-looking talons curving around the leather. Zane’s muscles flexed as he
took the bird’s weight. In slow motion, Zane reached up and ruffled the bird’s
breast with his finger.

“This
is Margo,” he said.

The
hawk blinked. Margo blinked back. Zane chuckled.

“He’s
a red-tailed hawk. A male. They’re a third of the size of a female.”

Margo
didn’t think she’d want to see a bigger hawk perched on Zane’s arm. This one
looked deadly.

Zane
kept talking while he continued to stroke the wild bird. “He can soar at high
altitudes and see a mouse to eat. Then, fast as lightning, he swoops down and
captures dinner.”

“Sounds
gross,” she said with a shudder.

“But
nature’s way,” he reminded her. “He hunts to survive.”

Margo
stared from the hawk to Zane. Both were strong and powerful. Zane’s hair shone
black as a raven’s and the hawk reflected the colors of the earth. Their eyes
were different colors, but both sets pierced with clarity and mutual respect.

The
hawk took one last glance at Margo before he flapped his powerful wings, ready
to take off. Zane tossed him high and watched him soar for several minutes.
Margo watched Zane.

When
he turned to her, she spoke. “The hawk kills to survive. Did you kill to
survive also?”

The
question hit him like a blow. She saw the sudden flex of muscle and tightening
of his features. She stayed several feet away from him.

Anger
flared for a second in his eyes, and then he shuttered them into his familiar
stoic mask. “I killed.”

“Have
you talked about it?”

“Talking
won’t change the fact that men and women are dead because of me.”

She
was about to ask him more when he abruptly headed for the cabin. “Zane.” She
hurried after him and managed to catch up as he reached the deck. “Talk to me.
Dammit, Zane! You can’t keep these things buried.”

He
paused and faced her, his gaze probing as he worked to cover the hint of
surprise. Margo had her own difficulties getting her composure back. Finally he
smiled, and it broke the threads of tension.

Zane
spoke, shaking his head in mock amazement. “You aren’t going to give up, are
you?”

Margo
started to remind him that, in fact, she already had, when his next words
stopped her.

“It’s
late today and you need to get back to town before dark. Can you return
tomorrow? We’ll sit down and have a long, serious talk.”

Margo
couldn’t speak.

“In
fact, bring a swimsuit. We’ll go to the river. There’s a beach. It’s
comfortable.” He cast her one of his rare but winning grins. “I have a feeling
it’s going to be a long session.”

What
could she say? If she abandoned him now, he’d retreat into isolation, but she
had no right to come. “We won’t be able to talk. Remember the letter to Vinnie?
You can’t consider me your therapist.”

“Does
that mean I don’t need therapy?”

“
Therapy
will work for you. What won’t work is for me to be the therapist.”

“Am
I that bad off that you can’t handle it?”

Margo
closed her eyes and willed patience. “You aren’t ‘bad off’ at all. You’ve gone
a long ways toward working out your own solutions.”

He
relaxed his features until her next words registered.

“There’s
something between us,” she told him. “I react to you physically. I’ve tried to
control it, but it just happens.”

He
sat very still, intent on every word. When she stopped talking he remained
silent.

Margo
could imagine his mind must be spinning with the implications of such a bold
statement. She forced herself to remain cool. In her code of ethics, it was
mandatory to be up-front.

“In
California they recently passed a law forbidding dual relationships between
patients and doctors.” She went on to explain the two-year limit and the
implications of the law.

“You’re
presuming a lot. We haven’t done anything that I’d call a relationship.”

“You’re
right. But I react to you. I’m reacting today. And it isn’t the kind of
reaction that is healthy for a therapist to feel for a patient.”

“Am
I supposed to feel flattered?”

Margo
had to smile. She shook her head. “You’d be better off feeling worried.”

His
eyes narrowed. “Does that mean you won’t come again?”

She
saw the barriers rising in place, heard the ice in his voice. Her father’s
image came to mind. She’d seen the same cold expression in his eyes. “I’ll come
tomorrow, but not as a therapist. I won’t be able to hear about your past. I’ll
be strictly an adviser to make recommendations for your future.”

“Whatever
you say.”

His
stiffness eased slightly, but she could sense the need. The power of it
threatened to cave her in. She wanted to step toward him and reach out, but she
backed up, seeking to distance herself from the strong pull he exuded.

“I’ll
get my things and leave.”

Before
he could respond, she tore her glance from his and went into the cabin. With a
sweep of her hand, she gathered her bag and belongings. A quick rummage in her
purse produced the list of therapy programs she’d compiled.

“Read
these over tonight. Then I want you to do some serious thinking. Tomorrow we’ll
discuss what your options are.”

His
eyes narrowed as he took the list. A mask had settled over his emotions, but
Margo hardened her heart to ignore it.

At
the Jeep, he handed her a can of soda. “For the road,” he said. He moved around
the engine, checking water and oil, and then stepped in front of her. She
wondered if he would change his mind.

“About
tomorrow.” He stopped her before she climbed into the driver’s seat of the
Jeep. “You are still coming?”

Margo
smiled, relieved that he hadn’t shut himself behind his wall again. “I’ll be
here.”

***

Margo
called herself ten kinds of a fool before she made it back to Fort Bragg. An
adviser – what a lie that term was. It sounded reasonable, but she knew she had
no business going back there. True, she was already in Mendocino County, so why
not take advantage of being here and having another chance to convince Zane to
come in? But it wasn’t her concern anymore; she’d written off the case.

You
can’t write off a man’s life
, she argued with herself as she flew
around a corner on the narrow road. To the right, sheer cliffs dropped to the
pounding surf below. Her tires squealed as she hit the next curve, and she
suddenly realized she was driving too fast. Her grip tightened on the wheel as
she skidded to a stop in the first pull-off.

The
crash of waves sounded in the cab of the Jeep. The odor of salt and seaweed
wafted in the breeze. Margo stared out to sea, wondering what she was going to
do. Ethics demanded she leave Zane to another therapist. Her past taunted and
her heart demanded she go back for one more try.

The
longer Margo stared at the expanse of blue, the more unsure she became. Finally
she put the Jeep in gear and returned to the inn. It wasn’t until after a walk
on the beach and dinner that she finally made up her mind. Bettina’s phone call
clinched the decision.

“Aren’t
you coming home tonight?” Bettina asked.

“I
told Vinnie I’d come this weekend to tell Zane.”

“And?”

“He’s
decided to open up and talk. I’m not going to counsel him, but I can use that
to get him to agree to go to a center for treatment.” Margo heard the rustling
and could picture her mother’s restless shifting. She’d already explained to
her mother that there was a conflict of interest in this case, so she couldn’t
blame her for the concern.

“You
aren’t going back, are you?”

“
Maman
,
I can’t desert him now. The moment is too critical.”

“Come
on,
cher
. You aren’t going to risk all you’ve worked for on this crazy
notion of yours to save the world. From what you’ve said he isn’t bad off. He’s
not going to do anything foolish like…”

Your
father.
Margo silently finished for her. Images of the coldness in her father’s eyes
formed; a chilling stare until a little five-year-old would climb in his lap
and tell him how much she loved him. But it hadn’t been enough; he’d killed
himself anyway.

Pain
iced its way through her. If she examined it she might see that it was guilt
and self-blame, but she never allowed herself a close look. It was easier to
work on someone else’s problems. She could be more objective.

Bettina’s
voice cut into her thoughts. “There’s more than what you’re telling me, isn’t
there?”

Margo
shifted uneasily. “I promised Zane I’d be there. It’s my last visit. He knows
that.”

“Are
you sure it’s not the
man
you’re dealing with rather than the patient?”

Margo
stared at the phone. Ripples of concern put her on the defensive. Was she that
transparent? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure
you do. You’ve shown all the classic symptoms: nervous restlessness,
unexplained bouts of extreme optimism followed by equally unexplained bouts of
self-castigation.”

Margo
cringed as she saw the truth of her mother’s words.

“From
all the signs, I’d say you were falling for the guy.”

“
Maman
!”

“Just
how serious is it?”

Margo
gave up and slumped back against the bed. “I don’t know. I’m as confused as you
think I am.”

Bettina’s
sigh carried across the wires. Gone was her professional concern. Margo could
hear the maternal instinct rearing up.

“You
come back tonight. Forget about your father. Forget this man.”

“I…”

“No
excuses, Margo. You carry the past on your shoulders. You’re going to have to
deal with that and maybe now is the time.”

No.
The denial
echoed in her mind. She would not let another man find excuses to give up on
life. She’d failed her father. She wouldn’t fail Zane.

“I’ll
call when I get home,” she told her mother and ignored the sigh of frustration.

After
hanging up the phone, Margo stared out the window. The breeze rustled through
the curtains, carefree and light. Would she ever feel that way?

The
swimming hole turned out to be everything Zane had promised – and more. Hot and
perspiring from the hike over the ridge, Margo followed Zane into the shaded
glade and thought she’d arrived in heaven.

Giant
redwoods edged the side of the river that they stood on. It was flat with
patched of grass in the open spaces and a sandbar that extended into a shallow
part of the water.

The
opposite bank took her breath away. A steep cliff curved in a semicircle,
forming the bend in the river. Thick moss and hanging five-finger ferns covered
the wall. Near the center, a small waterfall tumbled thirty feet from the lip
of granite into a large pool.

Another
pool formed the lower end of the bend and was connected by a fast-flowing
channel. The water was crystal clear. The deep and inviting pools reflected the
green foliage surrounding them.

“What
do you think?” Zane asked as he spread the blanket on the sandbar.

Margo
noticed the pleased tone in his voice. “It’s a paradise. A dream pool.”

“That’s
a good name for it. I dream a lot when I come here.”

“About
what?” she asked as she set her share of the gear on the blanket.