The Still of Night (24 page)

Todd’s eyes blazed. “You can’t just take it away.”

Morgan smiled. “Then make your case with Stan. But do it right.”

The slow boil that followed was probably worse than the kid’s usual kicking and swearing.

“The second thing is, I wanted to say good-bye.”

“You’re leaving? Now?” Todd glanced out at the moonlit yard.

Morgan nodded.

“You just got here.”

“There’s something I have to do.”

“What?” Todd shot the word like a missile. What could Morgan possibly have to do that was more important than hanging out with him?

“My daughter’s sick. I want to see her before she has a serious procedure.”

Todd gaped with no subtlety whatever. “You’ve got a kid?”

Stan looked surprised, as well. So Rick had kept that confidence. Now was not the time to go into it.

“Good-bye, Todd.”

Todd turned without a word, stalked back into the bedroom, and closed the door.

Stan ran a hand over his hair. “That’s the looks of it, these days.” At least he didn’t ask about Kelsey, no doubt reading the subject closed body language.

Morgan held out his hand. “Good luck, Stan.”

Stan shook it. “Are you coming back?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s been nice getting to know you. And thanks for everything. He might not show it, but it mattered to Todd, the time you spent and all.” Stan scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll pray for your daughter.”

Morgan turned from the door. “Thanks.” He went out and crossed the yard to his Thunderbird. He’d already told Rick, Noelle, and Marta good-bye, and there was nothing now to do but to climb into the Thunderbird and go. He opened the door and caught a motion from the corner of his eye.

Todd tore across the yard and rammed both hands against the car door, slamming it hard. Then he kicked it again and again until Morgan snatched him up and pulled him away. Todd turned his fists on him, shouting every vulgarity. Morgan caught his arms and pinned them at his sides, then pulled the boy tightly into his arms.

“I hate you! I hate you!”

Morgan held him. Another string of profanity. Morgan kept his arms around him. Todd pressed his fists into Morgan’s abdomen and started to cry. He let the boy cry. So much anger and hurt had to come out some way. After a while, Todd swiped his arm under his nose, bunched his shirt, and rubbed it against his face.

Morgan held his shoulder. “You all right?”

Todd pulled away. “Yeah.”

Morgan reached into his pocket, handed Todd his card. He had intended to give it to him at the cabin, if Todd hadn’t walked away before he could. “This has my cell phone and e-mail.”

Todd looked at the card.

“If you want to talk, you’ve got your choices.”

Todd looked up at him.

Morgan smiled. “You’re a good kid, Todd. Give Stan a chance.”

Todd stood there as Morgan climbed into the Thunderbird and started the engine. He raised a hand, and Todd did also, holding on to the card. Morgan smiled. “Be good.”

“You too.”

Morgan laughed. “Okay.” He backed out and drove down the gravel drive, settling in for the long haul. He cranked his tunes and tipped his head back. Another beautiful night in the Rocky Mountains, but he’d be leaving all that behind.

Jill climbed out of the shower and toweled dry. She had run earlier than usual, troubled by Cinda’s phone call. Yes, the promise was over-whelming to have Morgan match, to be going forward with the only lifesaving option for Kelsey. But Cinda’s other comment hung heavily this morning.
“I couldn’t bear to refuse Kelsey a treatment simply because
we couldn’t pay.”

Through all this Jill had never thought of the expense. How could money be attached to life and death? Last night she’d felt peace, believing in the Lord’s goodness. Yes, as Cinda said, He would provide, just as He had allowed Morgan to match, at least closely enough to go forward.

But the Lord helped those who helped themselves, and her thoughts now were on funds. What could she do to help? It must be bad if Cinda mentioned it to her. Jill went into the bedroom and dressed in blue shorts and a yellow shirt. She shook her hair, spritzed it with a light mousse, and now could let it air dry.

The sun had just risen and cast the room in pearly tones. She sat down at her desk and booted up her old computer. One of these days she’d update, but for now it worked for searching the Web and keeping her prayer journal. She started to open that document but saw she had mail and went there first.

A message from Kelsey. Jill opened it at once and read with surprise, heartache, and joy. Kelsey trusted her with her fears. She had turned to her with the thoughts she could share nowhere else. Though it broke her heart to read it, Jill exulted. There still was something she could do for her little girl.
Hi, Kelsey. I’m so glad you wrote
. She went on to answer her daughter’s questions. Yes, she had been sick and afraid but never hated the baby inside her.
There were times I wished it
hadn’t happened. I’m sure you know how that is. But when I held you the
first time
—the only time—
I was so glad you were in the world, even
though I wouldn’t get to know you. You were special even then
.

She told her about Morgan’s playing football and running track, how he beat her in a sprint, but she could outrun him in a long race. She told her how smart he’d been without trying, but how it annoyed him that she’d been accelerated a full year and could still keep up academically. She had teased him with that. Then she thanked Kelsey for being honest about her fears and illness.
You can tell me anything,
Kelsey, and don’t worry how it sounds. I’ll understand. I’m praying right
now for lots and lots of angels to fight your battle. Hang in there. Jill

She went into her prayer journal and thanked God for the opportunity she’d just had. She asked Him to keep that channel open as long as Kelsey needed it. She prayed for strength and courage for her daughter, and for the family’s finances. She read her devotional section for the day and journaled about it. Then she closed down the computer and was just standing up when the doorbell rang.

She glanced at the clock. 7:05? It had to be Dan, though they hadn’t spoken since her invitation for him to leave.

Rascal rushed past her, whisking his tail against her legs like a feather duster. He always pretended to race her to the door, but when he came to it, he shrank back as though the great outdoors might reach in and swallow him up. She nudged him aside and peered into the peephole, then caught herself against the door. Now she knew how it felt. Her lungs squeezed and her hand trembled as she opened the door.

“Morgan …”

He shot her a smug smile. “Surprise.”

She’d had a reason to spring herself on him. Why would he possibly be reversing the shock? “What are you …”

“The cross-match was negative.”

“I know.”

“We’re doing the transplant.”

She nodded. “Cinda told me. I’m so glad, Morgan.” But didn’t he have to be somewhere else to do it?

He raked her with his gaze, his eyes cobalt shards, hard and dangerous. A flush burned up her neck. She glanced at his white Thunderbird glinting in the parking space across from her door. If that didn’t draw her nosy neighbor’s attention she couldn’t guess what would“Morgan, what do you—”

“Want?” He caught her waist and drew her onto the stoop. “What do you think?”

She had to tip her head to look at him. What was he doing? Why was he there?

He caught her shoulders and pressed her against the doorjamb, staring at her lips until she started to shake. Then he met her eyes and said, “I want to see my daughter.”

Her breath escaped in a rush. “You can’t. They’ve transferred her to Yale, preparing for the transplant.”

He frowned. “When?”

Jill shook her head. “I just heard last night. They’ve started conditioning. Only her family can be there.”

“Her family. Does being her father count?” His tone was cold and clipped.

She turned her head to the side, but he caught her chin and turned it back. “Is that family enough, Jill?”

“Morgan. I can’t see her, either.”

He stared at her hard and clearly skeptical. “Really.”

“Why would I lie?” Even as she said it, she knew what he was thinking.

“Why indeed.”

She dropped her gaze, not wanting him to have the upper hand, leverage against her. He was too unpredictable, too different from the laughing boy she’d known.

“I know you’re angry and frustrated, but I can’t change anything. I’m doing the best I can with all of this, as I’ve tried to from the start.

” His eyes were acetylene torches. “Honesty from the start might have helped, instead of letting me believe the worst.”

Indignation rose up. “You believed it easily enough. Didn’t you remember how hard I cried when we first discussed abortion?”

His hand tightened on her arm. “You suggested it, not me.”

“I asked if that was what you wanted. I had to know.”

“I told you no.”

She closed her eyes, held them a moment, then faced him again. “I didn’t know my dad was going to tell you that. They wanted a clean break, nothing you could use to …”

“What?”

“Stay involved.”

His grip loosened, but he didn’t release her. “And it never—” He stopped at the sound of an engine and flashing lights behind him. She looked past him to the police cruiser pulling to a stop behind Morgan’s car. Brett and Dan climbed out, eyeing them.

Morgan turned, obviously surprised to see the cops. “Is there something I should know?”

Watching Brett and Dan, she felt more awkward than she could ever remember. Why were they staring so menacingly?

“Step back—slowly,” Brett said, and Dan rested his hand on his gun.

What on earth?

Morgan let go of her. “This is better than the last time.”

Jill stepped off the porch. “Brett—”

“Over here, Jill.” Dan motioned her.

This was not how she’d imagined their next conversation. Was this some macho jealousy thing? Had he lost his mind and brought Brett along? She went down the three stairs and the length of the walk. “What are you doing?”

Dan kept his eyes on Morgan but answered, “Your neighbor called in an assault.”

She looked from his face to the townhouse across the parking lot.

She didn’t have to ask which neighbor. She let out a sharp breath. “That’s a mistake. You know Mr. Deerborne.” She glanced back at Morgan, standing by the door with a wry look. Could their interaction have looked like assault? She pressed her palm to her face, embarrassment washing over in waves.

Dan let go of his gun and jutted his chin toward Morgan with the force of his ire. “You know him?”

She nodded, seeing the suspicion of Morgan’s identity dawn in the narrowing of his eyes, the clench of his jaw. He wanted to say more, ask more, but kept his mouth shut. After a moment, he circled back around the cruiser and climbed into the driver’s seat. They must still have been at Brett’s to get over there so quickly. They probably had yet to go in to the station. And Deerborne would have called Brett directly, as usual.

Brett looked from her to Morgan and back. “So you’re all right?

” She nodded. It wasn’t police protection she needed. She glanced at the opposite townhouse, where the old man was probably pressed to the window, though the daylight reflection kept him hidden. Anyone who thought women had the market on nosiness and gossip had never met Mr. Deerborne. He made a habit of calling Brett at home over the smallest things, but he’d never called the police on
her
before.

As the cruiser pulled away, she joined Morgan back on the porch.

“Very interesting.” Morgan settled his back against the wall and crossed his bare ankles. His legs beneath the navy shorts were tan and muscled.

Jill shoved her fingers into her hair. “Come inside. I’ll explain.” The sooner they were out of Mr. Deerborne’s view, the better.

She led Morgan to the kitchen and poured two glasses of cranberry juice.

He picked his up and studied it. “This the strongest thing you have?”

“What … else …”

“Coffee? I’ve been driving all night.”

He’d driven all night and still looked that good? “I might have some instant.”

He winced. “That’s all right.” He drained the juice glass.

Jill took a gulp of hers, absorbing the tang. The way her head spun already, any caffeine would put her over the edge. She needed to stay calm, get calm.

“So are you going to tell me why Beauview’s best are guarding your door?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Brett’s my neighbor.” She waved toward the townhouse outside the patio door. Then she pointed toward the front window. “And my other neighbor, Mr. Deerborne, is the self-established watchdog.” She drained her juice glass. “Do you want something to eat? I baked scones yesterday, lemon pecan.” She was babbling.

“Okay. But I’ve got to have some coffee, real coffee. I passed a Starbucks back in the strip mall.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “There won’t be a SWAT team waiting when I get back ….”

She smiled, almost able to find it funny, and shook her head. “I’ll let the National Guard know you’re cleared.”

“Yuh.” He went out, and for a moment she wondered if she’d dreamed the whole thing. She leaned on the counter, staring at the door he’d left slightly ajar. His car pulled out from the lot, and she drew a cleansing breath. She had to pull herself together.

She poured another swallow and drank it, just tart enough to tighten the tissues of her mouth, leaving it refreshed and invigorated. In her mind, juice beat coffee any day. She carried both glasses to the sink and washed them up. Then with a damp cloth, she wiped her clean counters and swept a few cat hairs from the floor.

Scones. Why had she offered him scones? If he’d driven all night, he probably wanted something hearty like steak and eggs. What was she thinking? She couldn’t cook for Morgan as though he were …someone in her life. Even if she’d had eggs or steak.

Pull yourself together
. He’d come to see Kelsey, and once he realized that was impossible, he’d go away. A scone was sufficient to show hospitality. She jumped at the tap on the glass and turned to see Shelly standing on the patio. Jill hurried over and let her in. “What are you doing up so early?”