The Rescuer (21 page)

She felt along the lining and every compartment. How did she lose just one earring?

She checked the other jewelry to see if it had become stuck in a brooch or tangled with a necklace but didn't find anything.

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If she'd snagged the back of the post on her clothing and lost the earring, she would have noticed when she removed them. She had put two earrings in the box but there was only one here.

Meghan went through the box again.

She was misplacing things; it had to be that simple.

She lifted her head as Blackie rambled down the hal , trailing something of interest to him. The random noises in the house were suddenly not innocuous. She went to the dresser and opened the first drawer, systematical y beginning a more thorough search.

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Stephen leaned against the door to the clinic office and watched Meghan work, her concentration on the document in front of her complete. She wore earphones, moving the cursor around on the screen and typing in spurts at a furious pace. She was so incredibly pretty... He wished life wasn't so complicated.

Taking her to dinner, inviting her to the next O'Mal ey basketbal game-in the past he would have done so without a second thought. Now his actions would be clouded with how it would be interpreted. How did you just be friends when you wanted to be something so much more? The puzzle had no easy answer. She leaned over and replaced something on the scanner, then hit the button to activate the scan.

Stephen knelt and greeted her dog.

"Who's there?"

He looked up, startled to realize she'd slipped off the earphones and heard him. The anger and fear in her voice shook him. "I'm sorry, Meghan. You were working or I would have said something."

Her gaze dropped to focus toward him next to Blackie.

She was pale. He rose slowly. "Are you okay?"

She turned back to her work. "You just surprised me."

Meghan wasn't normal y so spooked about being surprised by someone. And she had never been very good at lying. "I came

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to ask if I could take you to the funeral."

She took a deep breath and paused what she was doing, then glanced back at him. "Sure, just give me a moment and I'l be ready to go."

He leaned against the door again and waited as she shut down her equipment and reached for her bag.

"Okay"

She was wearing the bracelet he had given ner. With the elegant black dress and pearls, it looked good. He would have to buy her earrings to match. "You can leave Blackie off duty and walk with me to the church if you trust me for the details."

"I'd like that." She came around the desk.

He guided her hand to his arm and felt how cold her hand was. "Is there anything I can do to help you out today? Funerals aren't easy"

She glanced his way as they walked. "I was just about to ask you the same thing. This wil resonate with Jennifer's funeral."

"And Peg's...and my parents'." Stephen set his hand above hers and squeezed it. "It's okay. I'm getting pretty good at knowing what funerals are like. I didn't know Neil more than casual y. I'm sorry he didn't make it, but at least he had a ful life before he died."

"I'm likely to need some Kleenex. I've known him al my life, and I'm going to miss his gruffness even if I didn't know him al that wel ."

Stephen patted her hand. "I came prepared."

Meghan moved around her mother's kitchen loading the dishwasher after dinner, thinking about the funeral.

It had been so hard to listen to them lower Neil into the ground and wonder what else she could have done.

Her hand touched something sharp and she jerked back. Don't get distracted when handling knives.

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She finished loading the dishwasher and looked out where she knew the window was toward Stephens property. What was he doing tonight? He'd been quiet after the funeral. The pastor had been talking about heaven and she picked up on Stephens discomfort. He had walked her back to the office, then left to go back to work on his house. "What's the time, Mom?"

"Ten til seven."

Meghan dried her hands. She wanted to see the changes Stephen had made to the house. He invited her to stop by, but it looked like it would have to be a late visit. Neil's lawyer had asked to see both her and Dad tonight. There would inevitably be final items for the estate to settle up surrounding how he died.

Meghan wished it could have been put off for another night.

"Walter's here, honey. Could you bring in the coffee?"

"I'l get it, Mom."

They settled in the living room, and Meghan listened politely to Walter as he talked over business items with her father. Meghan picked up the baby blanket squares her mom was putting together to make a quilt for Kate's baby shower. A teddy bear embroidered in each fourth square was within her skil level. The outline was already made and she simply needed to count stitches to fil the circles.

"Let me get to the reason I'm here," Walter said. "As you know, Neil had no surviving family members. I asked him what he would like to do with his estate, and he wanted the proceeds to go toward expanding the health care clinic of Silverton."

"That was generous of him," Dad remarked.

"He appreciated your help through the years, Bil .

Since you already have the clinic structured as a nonprofit, it won't be that difficult to arrange in terms of complying with the trust bequest. After talking about a number of ways to make that wish happen, Neil went for simplicity. Meghan, Neil left you in charge of the jewelry store."

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She stopped counting stitches. "He what?"

"The business and property are now in trust for the clinic, and they're yours to liquidate. The sale of the house and grounds to Stephen wil go through, for the contracts are valid, but the proceeds wil simply flow into the estate at settlement."

She couldn't get past the simple fact that he'd entrusted his jewelry business to a blind lady. "Why me?"

"Several reasons," she heard Walter smile as he explained. "He liked you, and he knew you'd care that it was done right and that you'd oversee the funds to get the best return possible. He also knew you would have the time this was going to take."

"But what do I know about jewelry?"

"Enough to ask good questions," Walter replied. "The problem won't be getting offers of help but in choosing the right people. Neil empowered his banker and me to help you with the details. He kept his own books, and from what I've seen they are meticulously maintained. You should have no problem fol owing them. It is a very simple business at its heart.

"The trust provides for the immediate needs of the business, the chief one security. You may notice there have already been private security officers stationed at the store, taking over for the deputy who watched the store the first day. Neil had that already arranged and he hired a good firm. You'l have no worries there.

"The business wil have to be closed and pieces that were on consignment for sale or for repair returned to their owners. That's the immediate concern. For the inventory owned outright by the business, you can either hold onto the pieces, reopen the store under your own name to facilitate their sale, or you may wish to sel the pieces to other dealers and accept the discount prices you'l get. Then you'l have to decide on the building and whether to sel the property or maintain it and rent it out."

"Did Neil use an accountant?" Meghan asked.

"A tax accountant. I have copies of the last several years of fil-191

ings. I know this sounds overwhelming, Meghan, but it won't be. I have the keys at my office, and I can walk you through bank accounts and such. Come down when you feel ready. Feel free to bring along anyone you like to hear the details."

"When this estate is wrapped up, how much money are we talking about, Walter?" her father asked.

Tin guessing a mil ion, a mil ion plus."

"Oh, my," her mother said into the silence.

Meghan felt shock to her toes at those kinds of numbers. And she was responsible for it?

"Neil had simple tastes, he reinvested in the stones he bought, and he did it for decades." Walter got to his feet. "I'l leave you to talk among yourselves. Meghan, cal me when you're ready and I'l answer any questions you might have."

"What happens if I say no, if I don't want the responsibility?"

"He asked Stephen to do it."

She slowly nodded. Her third surprise of the night. "I'l cal you."

Stephen left his workshop in the barn and strode back to the house, unable to focus on the task at hand. The funeral had been for someone he only casual y knew, but it had been enough to make the memories return.

Jennifer's funeral was too fresh in his mind. Stephen changed his shirt to one that didn't smel of varnish and set aside his work shirt to be laundered.

He sat on the bed and picked up the liniment he was using on a new blister. He applied it and a new Band-Aid. The funeral remarks had been close to a sermon on heaven. He sighed and picked up Jennifer's Bible from the bedside table. Jenny, I wish you hadn't sent me this. He had read the book of Luke from beginning to end, then had started the book of John. The more he read, the heavier his heart became.

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He was wil ing to accept al of it, that God existed, that Jesus was His son and had risen from the dead, but it didn't change the problem he wrestled with the most-the life that came after the words Tm a Christian.' The idea of God having a personal relationship with people here on earth, for that relationship to continue for eternity simply didn't seem reasonable. God was wel ...God. A relationship of any real intirrfacy seemed farfetched. And when it came right down to it, if he couldn't sort out what being a Christian meant after he said the words, it didn't make sense to take that step.

Meghan was one of those who came right out and cal ed it a friendship.

It felt like a contradiction. Most Christians didn't live like they were best friends with God. Yet that relationship was described as the norm of what Christianity would be like. Maybe for a Moses who got the Ten Commandments or a King David who led Israel the word fit. But even if Stephen accepted it might be the norm for others, it didn't fit what he thought Christianity would be like for him. He was lousy at playing by team rules. And no matter how he cut it, Christianity came with a significant amount of expectations. Maybe it was cowardly to say he didn't want to try, but he didn't want to fail. And this looked like a failure waiting to happen.

He took the Bible with him out to the front porch and sat in the rocking chair, fulfil ing his silent promise to Jennifer to keep reading until either his questions were addressed or he finished the book. He glanced at his watch. Meghan should be here within the hour. The meeting at her parents' had to be breaking up soon.

He'd invited her to stop by, and he promised Bil he'd see her safely home. He hoped she could come.

Jenny, I'm not sure how I'm doing with Meghan. The last thing I want to do is ruin a good friendship; she's just so...I don't know... together with her life. I envy her the peace she's found. And

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you always liked her. I wish you were around to give me some personal advice.

He set his chair to rocking. He missed his sister.

Maybe that was why Meghan had agreed to come by tonight. She had sensed how the funeral was lingering in his mind. She was able to read his mood better than he could read hers. Why can't life be simple, Meg?

"I'm sitting on the front porch, Meg." Stephen saw her coming around the path by the pond, walking at such a slow pace he knew she was lost in thought, depending on Blackie to take her safely where she was going.

She lifted her head and looked his direction. "Say where again?"

"Twenty some feet ahead and angle two to your left.

Blackie is getting distracted by the flower garden I just planted."

Stephen lifted a hand to Bil , watching his daughter from the edge of his property. If Meghan knew silent angels often watched her, she never commented on it.

She might live in a world of darkness where it was the same day or night, but for those who loved her, it helped to know she got safely from place to place.

"There's a second chair on the porch free, we can go inside, or we can share the steps."

"Direct me to the chair. I'l let Blackie loose to get some exercise."

Stephen reached out a hand as she came up the stairs. "Here you go."

He waited until she was settled and comfortable. She rested her head against the back of the chair and sighed. He handed her a glass of iced tea.

"Problems?"

"Neil left me in charge of the jewelry store, with the proceeds to be used to expand the clinic."

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He stopped in the process of setting down the book in his lap. "That's a very generous bequest and a big job."

She smiled. "My first reaction was 'wow,' my second,

'what in the world am I going to do?'"

He picked up his glass. "You'l do fine."

"You better hope so, because if 1 say no, he left it to you to handle."*

Stephen choked on his drink.

Meghan reached over and slapped him on the back.

Stephen alternated between coughing and laughing as he looked at her. "I am not letting you say no."

Meghan slid her hand down to his and squeezed his hand. "I may need some of your help."

"Whatever you need," Stephen said. "Just as long as you keep the project." There was nothing Meghan couldn't figure out given some time. He set his chair in motion, rocking as he watched Blackie roam around the yard.

"Is the sky clear?"

"Hmm. There's a big bright band of stars that mark the Milky Way, and the moon is very bright tonight."

"That fits with the image in my mind."

"I could never see stars like this in the city. I didn't know what I was missing."

She drank the iced tea and rocked her chair in rhythm with his. Stephen let the quiet between them linger, just enjoying her presence. "Blackie's wearing down, Meg.