Karen watched him with a sad, almost pleading expression. His agony … hers. “Cora phoned to say she’s had her flight reservations changed, so she’ll be traveling with you since … since I won’t be going with you, after all.”
Her response angered Rand all the more. “Do you mean to tell me this whole disappearing act of yours was nothing more than a fit of jealousy?” he questioned between clenched teeth.
“Apparently so,” she told him flippantly. “If it’s jealousy to have the man I married take two honeymoon trips with another woman, then that’s what I am. I won’t question if it’s reasonable or unreasonable; it’s just the way I happen to feel.”
Rand swore harshly under his breath.
“Well, what did you expect?” Karen asked. “More important, when did you plan on telling me I wouldn’t be going? At the airport? We’re supposed to leave in three days. Excuse me,” she corrected herself with a bitter smile. “You’re leaving in three days.”
“You couldn’t come,” he shouted, his face red and angry. Then he paused, taking several deep breaths as if to calm himself. Gesturing with his hand, he added with a helpless, frustrated note, “You’re sick every morning.”
“If you’d bothered to ask, you’d have learned most of the morning sickness has gone.” She looked away guiltily. It had only been the last couple of mornings that she’d felt like her old self. “It doesn’t matter.” She felt tired and defeated. Holding a conversation while ten feet of hall separated them seemed utterly useless. She returned to the living room, stopping to pick up clothes along the way. She deposited the pile on the sofa.
“Did you want to come?” Rand asked quietly.
“Of course I did. You could have asked me, Rand.”
She heard his uneven sigh. “The lines of communication weren’t exactly open last week, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re angry over nothing.” His voice was raised as he fought for control.
“That’s what the baby and I are to you … nothing,” she intoned sadly, and turned to witness the hard mask that slipped over his face.
“I don’t want that baby,” Rand shouted.
“You didn’t want a wife, either,” she reminded him.
Rand bit off another caustic reply and paced the floor, saying nothing.
“It’s obvious I expect more from your love than you’re capable of giving. Somewhere along the road, I got the twisted notion love implies trust and faith. You’ve accused and doubted me twice.” She took a shaky breath, gathering her resolve. “You once told me to get out, but you didn’t say how far you wanted me to go. I think that time has come.”
Rand’s expression remained impassive and stoic. If it hadn’t been for the nerve that jerked in his jaw, she wouldn’t have known the effect of her demand.
When the telephone rang, she ignored it. “Undoubtedly, it’s for you,” she uttered sarcastically. “Probably Cora wanting to confirm your plans.”
Rand jerked himself around and strode toward his den. The phone went silent. Either Rand had answered it, or the caller had hung up; Karen didn’t know.
She drew in a deep, calming breath and leaned her head back to quell the emotion. She hadn’t meant to say those things; her anger was hurting them both.
When Rand returned, his face was strangely troubled, the smoldering anger extinguished. “Karen, that was the hospital. Your father’s had a massive heart attack. We must hurry.”
Eleven
The blood drained from Karen’s face, her hand flying to her mouth in shocked reaction. “Dear God, no,” she gasped. “Rand, tell me he’s all right, please.”
“Carl’s coming; we must hurry.” Her husband’s voice was tight with concern.
Later, Karen could hardly recall the tense drive to the hospital. She sat rigid with apprehension, her eyes closed. Matthew, her sweet, scheming, Scottish rogue of a father. Her lips moved in silent prayer, her spirit soothed by Rand’s fingers tightly clenching hers, offering his support, his love.
Their shoes sounded loudly against the polished floors of the hospital as they hurried down the winding corridors.
Evan, Milly, and Judy were already there, sitting silent and frightened. It was as though they were in a stupor; no one reacted to Karen until Judy gave a feeble cry and stood.
“He’s dying; surgery is his only chance.”
Evan remained seated, his look despondent, his face buried in his hands. When Karen entered the waiting area, he raised his hopeless, weary eyes to hers.
Milly, tears glistening in her eyes, could offer no encouragement.
“What happened?” Karen asked as if searching for some plausible reason for such a thing to happen to her father.
“I’ve known about his heart condition for a year now,” Evan answered her, “but I had no idea it was this serious.”
“Dad knew he needed the surgery but refused,” Judy added, shaking her head as if she couldn’t comprehend what was happening around her. “He was waiting to die,” she mumbled incredulously.
“To die?” Karen echoed her disbelief. She looked quizzically to Evan for an explanation.
The events of the evening were exacting their toll. Evan stared back, his face white and drawn. “I didn’t know. I swear to God I would have forced him to have the surgery if I’d known.”
Karen still didn’t understand; her gaze moved to Milly, helplessly searching for answers.
“Matthew learned his heart was bad, but decided he’d rather die and be with Madeline than prolong his life. He told us tonight before the aid car arrived that it was all right now that you and Rand were married. He needn’t worry about you anymore.”
Her father’s strange behavior this past year suddenly became clear. All the dates he’d begun arranging for her, the pressure for her to marry and produce grandchildren. His heart condition was the reason he’d coerced Rand into marrying her. Matthew had known she loved Rand, and when things didn’t look as though they were going to work out between them, he took matters into his own hands.
No wonder Matthew had looked so wan and pale at times. She knew that he missed her mother, but not to the extent that he would rather die than go on living. How stupid she’d been. It was as if the weight of the whole world had come crashing down on her. She had been closest to her father; she should have guessed what was happening, should have recognized the symptoms. Her father had been biding his time all along, hoping she would marry, forcing men upon her so she would be secure before his heart gave out.
“We were playing chess,” Evan began, interrupting Karen’s thoughts. “He just fell over. I thought he was dead.”
“The doctor says that unless Dad has the surgery, he won’t last the night. They’re prepping him now. It doesn’t look good, not good at all.” Judy’s voice cracked on a sob.
For the first time, Rand spoke: “It seems to me the lot of you have given Matthew up for dead. Matthew McAlister is a cursed old bulldog; once he’s faced death, I doubt that he’ll go without a gallant fight.”
The doctor appeared, his face grim. Matthew was ready for surgery. Again, the older man explained the procedure, making it sound very routine, yet didn’t minimize the risks involved. Karen and Judy could see their father for only a few minutes.
The sight of tubes and IVs brought reality to the seriousness of Matthew’s condition. Slow tears wound their way down Karen’s cheeks and chin as she stooped to kiss Matthew’s brow tenderly. Judy remained at the foot of the hospital bed, her hand over her mouth to hold back her distress.
Matthew’s eyes flickered open; he appeared drugged and woozy. Nurses were keeping a constant watch on his vital signs and hovered around the bed.
“Dad,” Karen whispered, leaning close to his ear. “The granddaughter you’ve been wanting so long is due in five short months. She’d very much like to know her grandfather. Please live, Dad. Fight this.”
Gently, the arms of a nurse comforted Karen, pulling her back from the bed. “We’re ready to take him to surger
y,” she whispered soothingly. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll take good care of your father.”
Judy collapsed into tears, returning to Evan and Milly, while Karen stood alone in the hall until her father had been wheeled from sight.
When Karen entered the waiting area, she’d never felt so alone or so afraid. As if by instinct, Rand met her, wrapping her tightly against him, lending her his strength, his faith. Karen clung to her husband, desperately needing his support.
The night seemed endless, each second, each minute interminable. The small group huddled together, as if their presence would aid Matthew’s battle for life. By dawn, the thin thread of hope remained taut and capable of snapping at any time. Yet Matthew clung to it obstinately.
Sometime during the long night, each one fell victim to despair and discouragement. Only Rand remained confident during the endless vigil. His gentle assurance lent strength, encouragement, and hope; all four leaned heavily on him.
When Dr. Phillips reappeared, clothed in a green surgical gown, the family, watching his approach, remained paralyzed, afraid of what he would say, yet equally fearing the unknown.
Matthew had survived the surgery. He remained a critically ill man, and the next few days would hold the highest risk. Dr. Phillips advised them to go home and get some rest; there was nothing any of them could do to help Matthew’s condition.
Rand, Milly, and Evan rose to leave, but Karen and Judy glanced at each other in unspoken agreement. They would stay, confident their love for Matthew was stronger than the power of death.
“Judy and I are staying,” Karen told Rand.
“Karen,” Rand coaxed softly, “come home. You won’t be able to help your father any more here than you could at home. You need your rest. You’ll only make yourself ill.”
Stubbornly, Karen shook her head. “No,” she whispered on a fervent note. “Judy and I are staying.”
Rand didn’t attempt to pressure her further. He left a few minutes later with the promise to return later that afternoon.
The hours merged together. Nothing mattered. There were no stars, no sun, no universe; nothing was of consequence while her father’s life hung in a delicate balance.
The two sisters rarely spoke; the communication between them didn’t require words.
The doctor had left word that Karen and Judy could visit Matthew for five minutes every hour, but only one at a time. When Karen went, she stroked his brow lovingly and murmured soothing phrases. Sometimes Matthew’s eyes would drift open to gaze at her sightlessly, but his lashes lowered slowly, as if sleep had lured him back into her arms.
Seeing her father for only those few minutes wrenched at Karen’s heart. He was so pitifully weak, so vulnerable. The picture of her physically strong, active father was far removed from the man who lay in the intensive care unit fighting for his life.
Rand returned and again attempted to persuade the women to go home and rest. Just as adamantly, Karen and Judy refused, fearing Matthew would wake, wanting them, believing with all their being they would instill in their father their own strength.
For a second time, Rand accepted their decision, remaining until late that night, having meals sent and ordering pillows and blankets when it became obvious neither of them would leave. Rand’s quiet strength fueled Karen with desperately needed hope. She sat with his arms supporting her and relaxed for the first time in twenty-four hours. She was dimly aware of being lowered upon a soft cushion and covered with a blanket. A faint shadow stood above her, but the magnetic allure of sleep, sweet, blissful slumber, called, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
The next day followed the pattern of the first. Matthew’s condition remained unchanged. Friends and relatives continued to visit, but there was no word, no hope to offer as Matthew clung to the delicate thread of life.
Rand was with them as much as possible, concerning himself with their basic needs of food and rest. He held Karen again until she fell asleep; she faintly recalled a caressing kiss on her cheek as she slipped into sleep on the third night of their vigil.
Early the next evening, the doctor appeared and for the first time greeted Karen and Judy with an encouraging smile.
“Your father has made definite improvement today. He’s awake and already giving the nurses a bad time.” He seemed to find amusement in this and chuckled over some private joke. “Although the immediate danger has passed, Matthew must remain in the coronary care unit for several days, depending on his progress. From there he’ll be transferred to the progressive care unit.” Dr. Phillips took care to explain the details of Matthew’s recovery and left with an optimistic smile a few minutes later.
After the unbearable wait, the news of Matthew’s improvement was like a refreshing, life-giving rain after a summer drought. Karen and Judy hugged each other, the tension broken as happy tears blurred their eyes.
When Judy gave a small, strangled sound, Karen looked up, confused and unsure, to find her sister hurrying down the corridor. Walking toward them was Rand and her brother-in-law, Mike Turner.
Judy floated into her husband’s arms and was enfolded in an embrace that spoke of worry, concern, and months of longing.
“How … when?” She didn’t seem capable of forming a complete sentence.
Mike laughed. “Rand contacted the air force, and I was given emergency leave. I can see I’m going to appreciate my new brother-in-law.” His smile was broad; then he sobered as if remembering the reason for his being there. “How’s Matt now?”
“Better, much better,” Judy supplied the information. “The doctor was just here. There’s a long uphill road to recovery for Dad, but Dr. Phillips feels optimistic.”
Rand rested his hand lightly across Karen’s shoulder, and she slipped her arm around his waist. The simple contact brought a ray of hope to the problems they had yet to face regarding her pregnancy. When she glanced at Rand, she found him smiling smugly.
“What did I tell you? I knew that crusty old devil was going to make it.” His expression altered. “It’s time to come home. Evan and Milly are coming later. They’ll phone if there’s any change.”
After three restless nights, catching what sleep they could on a lumpy davenport, both daughters were ready to agree.
The two couples left the hospital, and for the first time in three days Karen breathed in fresh air and looked toward the sun. Her eyes were lambent, her relief almost translucent.
Carl greeted her with anxious eyes but relaxed after she gave him a reassuring smile. “I don’t need to ask how your father’s doing, Miss Karen,” he said. “The smile on your face answers all doubts.”
“Dad’s better, much better. Thank you for your concern.”
The older man looked pleased. “The missus has dinner waiting. She’ll be glad to hear your father is improving.”
Everyone was being so wonderful. Karen felt a knot building in her throat, never having realized before how the loving support of friends could mean so much.
“Thank her for me,” Karen murmured, holding back the tears.
Home held the comfort of familiarity, and Karen looked around her as if seeing it with new eyes. Flowers decorated the table; her collection of figurines on the mahogany bookcase stared back at her, providing solace that would have been difficult to describe with words.
The aroma of the meal warming in the oven couldn’t deter Karen from the thought of a hot shower and washing her hair. As she entered the bedroom, she halted in midstep; the open suitcase on the bed caused her to stop and stare.
“Oh, Rand, the trip … the lecture series. I’d forgotten. You were supposed to leave today,” she said, horrified. Everything was so confused in her mind; time had lost meaning as the days blended together. The trip, their argument, seemed so far removed, so distant. Not since the phone call from the hospital had Rand’s leaving with Cora crossed her mind.
“I’m flying out early tomorrow morning. There’s no question of you accompanying me,” he said flatly, pulling his ti
e free and unfastening the top buttons of his shirt.
Was he referring to the pregnancy or her father? Karen was too weary to question him. “No, I suppose not,” she mumbled, feeling dejected and sad. Rand was leaving with Cora, and all the things Karen had so desperately wanted to have clear between them remained to trouble her. All her efforts to normalize their relationship had been thwarted.
Rand was waiting for her in the living room, relaxing, his head leaning back against the chair, listening to the classical music they both enjoyed.
She sat opposite him, wishing he was on the davenport so she could be closer. “I want to thank you for all you did to help my family,” she began, feeling awkward. “You were wonderful. None of us will ever forget it.”
Rand frowned; his mouth twisted in a taut line as if her words had displeased him. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done,” he told her flatly.
Karen looked around her; the welcome of her home had faded from the lack of warmth in her husband.
Rand was leaving in the morning. Nothing had been settled between them, and already the cold mask was slipping over her husband’s face. A knot tightened the tender muscles of her stomach.
“If you don’t mind, I … I think I’ll skip dinner and go to bed,” she added, hoping to hide the despair in her voice.
Rand shrugged noncommittally. “As you wish.”
Karen returned to the bedroom, feeling depressed and weary.
The gentle caress of Rand’s mouth woke her the next morning. The alarm had rung, sounding as if it’d come from a far-off distance, but that had seemed so long ago. Karen welcomed the warm touch as he rolled her over, his mouth seeking hers. Automatically, her lips parted, savoring his ardent kiss. Her silken arms wound around his neck as his hand slipped under her nightgown, capturing the rounded fullness of her breast.
Karen gave a muted groan; Rand hadn’t touched her like this since she’d told him about the baby. She was starving for his love and responded with all the hunger of weeks without him.