The Comforts of Home (16 page)

“So you had to get up early.” He lowered his voice.

“Yes,” she said, without emotion.

“Can you meet me?” He slammed his fist against the door frame, wishing he didn’t sound so needy.
Keep it light
, he reminded himself.
Keep it casual.

“I . . .”

“Where?” he said, without giving her time to say no.

“It’s dangerous here at home. Someone could see us.

Everyone knows us.”

Denver wanted to yel that he didn’t care if the world saw them. “How about the Buffalo Bar and Gril ? We could just happen to bump into one another there.”

“No. I don’t ever go there.”

He couldn’t real y see her going into the bar either, but it was the first place he thought of. It was a popular hangout, but not for an ice princess like Claire. “The roadside lookout?”

“It’s too cold.”

He knew she probably wouldn’t come to his place, even though she’d said she’d think about it.

“I have to fly out of Dal as Monday; any chance I could see you before then?” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. They were both single. Why did they have to both leave Harmony to connect?

“Liz and Gabe are coming to Sunday dinner. Why don’t you come along? I could see you then.”

“Al right. Sunday dinner.” He got the picture. Sunday dinner with the two great-aunts sitting between them. With Claire rarely even looking his way. With her daughter, Saralynn, asking questions in rapid fire.

If she didn’t want to see him, then she should just tel him. Sometimes he had the feeling Claire was torturing him like a cat playing with a mouse before she had him for dinner.

“Good-bye, Denver,” she whispered.

“Promise me something before you hang up.”

“Al right,” she said.

“Promise there wil be a place and time for me to hold you.”

“I wil try,” she said, and the phone went dead.

He was beginning to hate those three words as wel as himself for accepting them from her.

FEBRUARY 26

MEMPHIS

THE THREE DAYS IN THE MEMPHIS HOSPITAL FOR

NOAH McAl en turned into six. Reagan stayed by his side while the doctors looked for the cause of the constant pain in his back.

Final y, on Friday, they told him to go home. Maybe the pain would pass when the other parts of his body healed.

While Reagan packed his few things, Noah cal ed his parents.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, forcing himself to sound better than he looked. “How are things? I thought I might come home for a few weeks.”

He listened, ignoring the nurse who came in to run a final check.

“That sounds great, Mom. No, don’t even think about canceling the trip. I’l just make a few more stops and be home in March. Then you’l have pictures of your trip to show me. Have a great time.”

He paused to listen, then added, “Tel Dad I’m doing He paused to listen, then added, “Tel Dad I’m doing fine. My card’s fil ing up. Yeah, I miss you guys too. Good-bye.”

When he clicked his phone closed, he looked at Reagan. “They’re taking a month-long vacation. Plan to see California and then fly to Hawaii for ten days. This time of year is pretty much the slow time for Dad’s trucking company.”

“Why didn’t you tel them?”

“Because I know them. They’d miss probably the best vacation they’ve ever planned. I’l go home and stay alone.

I’l do fine.”

“Nonsense,” Reagan said. “You’l come home with me.

In fact, my uncle told me the night you cal ed to bring you back with me. He said our house is starting to look more and more like a hospital every day. You might as wel be there recovering too.”

Noah’s grin was there for a moment, reminding her of the boy who’d bugged her when she moved to Harmony.

“You inviting me to move in, Rea?”

“Yes. I’l cal and have Foster order another hospital bed. We can have the dining room table removed and you can sleep there.”

“I was hoping we’d moved to being friends with benefits.”

“We have,” she laughed. “I’l see you recover and hide your truck keys so you can’t get back on the road too soon.

I’ve got Foster Garrison and his wife living with me. He’l help you do your therapy and Cindy wil fatten you up on ginger-apple pancakes and buttermilk pie. If you like, you ginger-apple pancakes and buttermilk pie. If you like, you can share the parlor with Uncle Jeremiah, but you’re not sharing my room.”

“You’ve grown from a mean spitfire of a girl to a cruel woman, Reagan Truman. The only time I can get you to cuddle up close to me is when I’m hurt.”

“I’m sure on the road you’ve had far prettier girls than me.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Definitely nicer and more wil ing, but better, I don’t know. Maybe one of these days you’l let your guard down and we could give it a try, just for comparison’s sake.”

She laughed. “That’s about the worst line I’ve ever heard. To think I was worried about you sleeping with a different girl every night. With that kind of logic, I shouldn’t have worried. I’l bet you were living a monk’s life.” Handing him his jeans, she turned around as he tried to slide them on with one hand. When he hit her with his hospital gown, she grabbed his shirt and faced him. Noah’s chest and shoulders were more scarred than she remembered, and far more hairy. He was so thin she could see his ribs, along with deep bruises that hadn’t completely healed from other rides.

With his arm in a cast, she had to help him with his shirt.

When his face was close to hers, he whispered, “Thanks for the offer, Rea. Even without benefits, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

She wanted to cry. When she’d come to Harmony at sixteen she had no friends and didn’t plan to make any.

Noah “Preacher” McAl en cal ed everyone in town his Noah “Preacher” McAl en cal ed everyone in town his friend. Everyone loved the wild, happy-go-lucky kid—

everyone stil did, but he no longer saw it. Noah had left Harmony, but the people stil talked about him, asked if she’d heard from him. Men young and old dreamed of doing what Noah was doing. They’d be surprised to see him now. Even now, after seeing him like this for almost a week, Reagan was stil having trouble blending the boy who left with the man coming home.

“I booked the late flight home tonight. We’l be landing after ten and it’l be after midnight before we get home. If you like, no one has to know you’re even in Harmony. That way you can rest.”

He smiled. “Protecting your reputation. Don’t want folks to know you got a cowboy’s boots under your bed.” She smiled. “Don’t want to see girls from seventeen to thirty lined up outside my door to take your temperature.” He shook his head. “I doubt anyone wil remember what I look like. The two days I was home for Christmas I had to show my ID to buy a drink at Buffalo’s one night.” With the nurse’s help, Noah forced himself to move from the bed to the chair. By the time they got to the airport, he looked exhausted. He barely noticed the nurse who helped him move onto the plane. Reagan had hired her to fly with them to Dal as and make sure Noah got on the plane to Amaril o. After that, Reagan figured she could handle the fifty-minute flight. Foster would be waiting in Amaril o.

Noah stretched out in his first-class seat beside her and reached for her hand as the plane taxied out. Before they were in the air, Noah was asleep, but he never turned loose of her hand.

He woke up in Dal as complaining of pain, took two pil s, and went back to sleep. He seemed drugged when Foster made him comfortable in the back of a Suburban he’d rented. Reagan made the last leg of the trip home listening to Noah’s snoring as Foster drove through the night.

When they arrived home, the dining room had been cleaned and removed of al the clutter. The space looked more like a hospital room now with al kinds of supplies and equipment neatly stacked.

While Foster got Noah settled in and comfortable for the night, Reagan checked on her uncle, took a shower, climbed into her thickest PJs, and curled up in her favorite chair beside his bed.

“He’l sleep through the night,” Foster said as he pul ed up the railing on either side of the bed.

“I know. I just wanted to sit with him for a while.” Foster nodded, but she had no idea if he understood.

“Cal me if you need anything else.”

Reagan pul ed the blanket over herself, realizing how exhausted she was. Within a few minutes the house grew silent, but sleep couldn’t find her. She wiggled, first thinking it was too cold in the room, then deciding it was too hot.

She got up twice to make sure the drapes were tightly closed. She went to the kitchen for milk and then for a sandwich that she took only two bites of.

Final y, Reagan lowered the railing on one side of Noah’s bed and crawled in beside him as she had once in the hospital when he’d been hurt. Barely touching him, she placed her hand on his heart and felt the beating. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to match the beat of her heart to his.

Within minutes she was sound asleep.

RONELLE WAITED UNTIL ALMOST ONE TO PUT ON

HER COAT to make her delivery. She’d hoped the weather would warm some, but the day had stayed cloudy, holding the frozen earth captive.

As she walked toward the duplex just off Main, she saw no one out. Today seemed a good day to huddle in. Not even the wind blew by. Moisture hung in the air, not rain or snow, but damp, depressing, like an icy compress on her face and head.

When she knocked on Winslow’s door, no one answered.

She knocked again.

To her surprise, the door swung open.

Marty rol ed back a few feet and snapped, “Come in. It’s about time I got some mail.”

She stepped inside and pul ed his letters from where she’d stuffed them inside her coat so they wouldn’t get wet.

One looked like it might be something important. The other was only an ad addressed to
Occupant
.

“You look half frozen,” he said, stil none too friendly.

“Where’s that dumb hat you usual y wear?”

She didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure if he was worried about her or just insulting her again.

“Go over by the fireplace. I’l get you a coffee.” She stood watching him rol away, not sure what to do.

Did mailmen accept coffee? She had a feeling that if anyone in town offered Jerry something to drink, like a stray dog, he’d stay the winter.

More from fear of what he’d say if he came back to find her stil standing at the door than from any real need to get warm, Ronel e walked into his front room. A fire was going in an old Rookwood fireplace, and it made the room not seem so drab with light dancing over the red of the brick.

“Take off your coat and hang it over the back of one of the chairs.” His voice came from a room away.

She looked toward the windows and saw the table and chairs the thug had delivered a few days ago. They were thin wood, the kind that she’d seen for sale at thrift stores.

She pul ed one chair closer to the fire and removed her wool coat, surprised at how wet it was. Another few minutes outside and the dampness would have reached her shoulders.

She’d just pul ed the other chair close to the fire and sat down when he entered. He rol ed toward her, two cups of coffee on a tray across his legs.

He frowned and offered her one cup. For a few minutes, they both watched the fire and drank their coffee.

Final y, he said, “You didn’t have to come. My mail would have waited.”