The Still of Night (26 page)

Read The Still of Night Online

Authors: Kristen Heitzmann

Tags: #ebook

BOOK: The Still of Night
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

As they entered Des Moines, she directed him to Kelsey’s house, and he parked in the driveway, no doubt leery of leaving his car on the street with the more well-used vehicles. He got out and came around for her. How long had it been since she waited for someone to let her out of a car? Yet she’d instinctively remembered Morgan’s training.

He had explained to her on their first date that it had nothing to do with her inability to open the door for herself, but that anyone with class wouldn’t expect her to. She got out now and led the way to the door while he alarmed the car. He needn’t have bothered. In two minutes they’d be climbing back inside.

Jill knocked at Kelsey’s door, expecting a lull, then a second knock, proof to Morgan that the Bensons were not in Des Moines. She startled when the door was opened by a young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, with thin brown hair and a triangular mouth that lengthened its base when she smiled. “Hi. Stuff for the fund-raiser?”

Momentarily confused, Jill shook her head. “No.”

Morgan came up close behind her.

The girl flashed a smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve had people coming all day to bring stuff for the yard sale. It was in the newspaper.”

Jill glanced behind the young woman into the house. Were the Bensons there after all? “Is the sale for Kelsey?”

She nodded. “To help with medical costs.” There it was again, the financial reality that the fight was not in Kelsey’s body alone. Jill wished she had brought something for the sale.

“It’s this weekend, if you want to come.”

“I live in Beauview. I, we”—she motioned to Morgan—“came to see Kelsey.”

“She’s not here. They transferred her to Yale New Haven.”

Jill glanced at Morgan. Now would he believe her?

The young woman turned to him. “I’m Rebecca. I’m house-sitting while they’re gone and collecting the stuff for the youth group fund raiser.”

“Can you tell us about it?” His voice was low and tight.

“Sure. Would you like to come in? I made sun tea this morning.”

There was no point if Kelsey wasn’t there. But Morgan returned Rebecca’s smile and said, “Tea sounds good.”

Did he think he could search the house if he just got inside? Jill followed Rebecca inside with Morgan behind her. Maybe he hoped to grill this girl about his daughter. But he stopped at the photo wall in the living room and looked at the portraits. Kelsey’s was not updated. She had hair, light blond hair. The other two showed her even younger with Cinda and Roger. Jill watched his face. What was he thinking?

Rebecca came back with two glasses of tea. “I’m sorry you drove all the way out here for nothing. Would you like to sit?” She offered two chairs in the living room.

Jill glanced at Morgan. It wasn’t for nothing. Now he knew she had told him the truth. They took the chairs and she held out her hand. “I’m Jill, by the way. Jill Runyan.”

Rebecca smiled. “I guessed that, when you said you’d come up from Beauview.”

She had?

“Cinda is my mentor. We’re pretty close. She mentioned you, and you look a lot like Kelsey.”

Jill drank the icy tea and glanced at Morgan. Would Rebecca notice his eyes were Kelsey’s? He could introduce himself if he wanted to, though she hoped word wouldn’t get back to the Bensons that he’d been there.

He said, “Is the yard sale the only thing going for medical costs?”

“Right now.” Rebecca pulled out a card and handed it over. “This is Kelsey’s emergency fund account. We’ve had donations, but not nearly enough. We’re trying everything we can think of to reach the goal: garage sales, bake sales, even boxes with Kelsey’s photo in the grocery stores.”

Cinda’s financial concerns were real. For the first time in her life, Jill wished she were rich. What could she do? Take a summer job in addition to tutoring? But that would take too long, even if she found extra employment. Sell her townhouse? With the financing she’d found, she spent less on it than she would renting, and she had to live somewhere.

Rebecca sighed. “It’s just incredible how much her treatment costs, especially the transplant. It’s cutting-edge medicine, the only chance she has. But there’s less than a week until it’s scheduled and … well, we’re praying for a miracle.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The treatment has to be paid for by the time of service. Roger has tried to find loans, but they already have a second on their house and debts from the previous treatments. So far they haven’t found a lender.” She spread her hands.

Jill opened her mouth to confirm the awful understanding that was forming in her mind: Kelsey wouldn’t get the transplant? The thought was so staggering she couldn’t make a sound. She
would
sell her town house, her car, anything.

“What does he do?” Morgan asked softly.

“Contracting. Drywall. He works hard. It’s just when you’re selfemployed, you don’t get, like, the greatest insurance.”

Jill sensed Morgan’s tension.
Please don’t make a scene
. The Bensons were obviously doing the best they could.

He pocketed the card Rebecca had handed him. “Thanks.”

Jill moistened her lips. “How is Kelsey?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I haven’t heard for the last couple days, but she has so much spirit. Nothing has mobilized our youth group like her sickness. Everyone wants to help Kelsey. It’s just hard to do enough.”

Jill stood up. “Well, thank you for filling us in. I’ll do what I can.”

Her heart rushed. What a stupid platitude. What else did she have?. There was nothing superfluous in her life. Oh, maybe her bike and a few pieces of clothing. What good was that?

Rebecca picked up the tea glasses. “Help pray for the miracle. That’s the best thing.”

Jill smiled. “I will.” A miracle. Did she believe God could work in a big way? Did Morgan? She had no idea where he stood with God. Would he pray for—her breath caught suddenly. Morgan. Could he do more than pray?

They went out to the car, and by the stiff hand on her back, she gauged his still heightened tension. But Morgan didn’t speak as he pulled out of the driveway and started back the way they’d come. He could at least acknowledge that she
had
told the truth. That would give her the courage to broach the other subject. What was she thinking? She’d already braved the lion for Kelsey. She’d jump into his jaws if …

She drew herself up. “Morgan—”

“I’ll do what I can.” He didn’t look at her, just gripped the wheel and muttered, “Drywall.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t answer. He had already told her he would do whatever it took. He must be in a better position than the rest of them financially. He’d said as much on their drive over. She’d seen his toys. Her heart thumped with expectation. Maybe that was the real reason they’d made this drive, for Morgan to see his child’s picture, to hear for himself how great her need was. Maybe the Lord had put him at her door that morning to begin the miracle Kelsey’s friends prayed for.

Her spirit swelled with expectation.
Oh, Jesus
. All the pieces could come together according to the Lord’s perfect plan. She had to trust. She bit her lip as Morgan reached the highway and headed back toward Beauview. She wanted to pepper him with questions, wanted certainty that he could do what he’d tersely indicated. If he did, maybe after the transplant, when Kelsey was well, Morgan could meet his daughter.

Yes. The thought warmed inside her. She would help him see Kelsey. The day was bright; the air smelled of earth and tar and new leather, and for the first time since learning about Kelsey, the dark clouds inside her lifted. It was hard to believe she was riding beside Morgan. But it had to be part of the plan, the intricate details the Lord was weaving together.

He needed sleep. He’d spent thirteen hours on the road to Beauview, four hours round trip to fetch Marta. Add to that the time on the plane to Denver and the taxi drive to the ranch. He’d had no sleep and more caffeine than even he could handle. He was getting shaky, probably a blood sugar crash. Marta’s dinner last night was his last meal except for the few bites of Jill’s scone. He had to get back to her place, about half an hour, he guessed, from where they were now. He could make it that far. He shook off the hypnotic effect of the road.

“Are you all right?” Jill must have noticed the wide stretching of his eyes, that last shake of the head. He’d thought she was absorbed in the landscape.

“Yeah.” He switched hands on the wheel and chewed a flake of dry skin from the side of his lip, pulverizing it between his front teeth. He’d left Santa Barbara with one purpose in mind: to see Kelsey. He had tried to go through the doctors, but they told him the program required a year from the transplant date for unrelated donors, which he was considered to be, since he had no legal connection to his daughter. And they had confirmed what Jill had said—the Bensons believed it would stress Kelsey to meet him.

How would it stress her to know he cared? That elfish face in the portraits looked wiser than any of them. She might look like Jill, but he saw plenty of himself in her expression. She would handle it. It was their own position that her parents worried about. And well they should. Jill might have pawned her off, but he’d had no say in the matter. If it was legal connection they required …

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t being vindictive. It just wasn’t right. None of this was right. That little girl deserved more than people dropping change into boxes with her picture. And the card in his pocket was one huge opportunity to make his point.

He pulled up in front of Jill’s townhouse, new enough, nicely landscaped, each unit with a garage. That was important for a woman living alone. He got out and walked around to her door, gratified that living single hadn’t made her too feminist to accept the courtesy his family had ingrained.

Jill climbed out, and he walked her to her front door, which she unlocked and pushed open.

When she hesitated, he said, “Mind if I come in awhile?”

She held the door wider. “You must be exhausted.”

“I could use a rest.” He yawned and followed her in, waiting while she slipped out of her sandals just inside the door and left them next to her Nikes. “Still running, eh?” And he eyed her legs, remembering them flying over the hurdles with speed and power.

She nodded.

“You excelled in that.” Especially the last run right out of his life.

That won her the gold medal. He settled onto the couch, every muscle crying for rest. He had one purpose in being there—Kelsey. Then he looked at Jill and stopped lying to himself. It wasn’t thoughts of Kelsey that had driven him all these years. Love and pain vied like twins inside him.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see her.” She sounded sorry, and it was in her face.

“I will.”

She nodded. “Maybe after the transplant, if … if she has it.”

“She’ll have it.”

Relief and gratitude bloomed in her face. Didn’t she realize he would have done anything for them?

“Thank you, Morgan. I wish there was something I could do.”

He sat down on the couch. “Come home with me for the procedure. You can be my nurse while I’m laid up.” She didn’t believe him, he could tell. He wasn’t sure where it had come from himself “Wouldn’t you like to be part of it?”

She searched his face.

“I’ll be doped up and crippled. At least for a few days.” He stretched. “And Consuela is not the kind of woman I want rubbing my back.”

“Consuela?”

“My housekeeper.”

She crinkled her brow and looked away. “I can’t, Morgan.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up and leave. I have responsibilities….” She spiked her fingers into her hair. “I can’t.”

“Consuela lives there with her brother. There’s also my professional assistant, Denise. You wouldn’t be alone with me.”

She stood up and walked to the window, more distressed than he’d expected. “Why are you doing this?”

If she needed an answer to that …

She shook her head when he didn’t give her one.

Fine. He was certainly not going to beg. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Bone tired. Deeper than the muscles, it went to his marrow, which he would soon be depleting for a little girl he wasn’t even allowed to see. “Mind if I rest awhile?” He slipped off his loafers and stretched out on the couch. Getting prone felt great.

CHAPTER

17

J
ill watched him sleep, his exhaustion apparent in the brief moment it took him to succumb. It must have been the exhaustion that prompted his invitation. Didn’t he realize how painful it would be to spend time together? Yet he was doing so much, everything she had wanted to do for Kelsey. Did she owe it to him?

She pressed her hands to her face.
Lord, show me. I know you have a plan here, and I don’t want to get in your way
. She’d spoiled his plans before.
Show me clearly, Lord
.

She left Morgan sleeping and went to get groceries. If he was awake at lunchtime, she’d make a crab salad. She was sure he’d be gone by supper but bought a flank steak to marinate just in case. New potatoes and scallions, canned corn for the recipe she made with cream cheese and green peppers, and fresh tomatoes from the vegetable stand ought to do it. One good meal to send him on his way. And she bought a can of coffee, even though she’d have to borrow Shelly’s coffeemaker.

“Jill, how are you?”

She turned. “Oh, hi, Anita. I’m fine.” She did not want to go into details with a mother of one of her students.

Anita caught her arm. “Are you? Pam indicated you had an emergency that made you step out for the summer.”

For the summer?
How had taking one day off turned into the whole summer? Jill hoped the principal wasn’t behind that one, though she wouldn’t be surprised. She’d knocked heads more than once with Ed Fogarty, and he’d take any chance to rid himself of his number one headache. “It was just today. I had something come up.” Some
one
who now slept on her couch. And a sick child no one knew she had. Didn’t that warrant one day?

“I was worried after we talked.”

Jill’s mind jumped to the last time they’d talked, when she’d confused Anita with Shelly on the phone and snapped about Dan. “That was a difficult day.” She smiled. “You know what they’re like.”

Other books

Journey to Enchantment by Patricia Veryan
Little Blackbird by Jennifer Moorman
Small Crimes by Small Crimes
Best Buds by Catherine R. Daly
Gunsmoke over Texas by Bradford Scott
The Malignant Entity by Otis Adelbert Kline
Program for a Puppet by Roland Perry