Marianna’s nod was eager. “We won’t be long.”
Her father set the rest of the mail on the table. The top envelope captured Mary Jo’s attention. The return address was a bankruptcy court. She didn’t think anything of it until later when her father opened the envelope.
“I wonder what this is?” he mumbled, sounding confused. He stretched his arms out in front of him to read it.
“Norman, for the love of heaven, get your glasses,” Marianna chastised.
“I can see fine without them.” He winked at Mary Jo. “Here, you read it for me.” Mary Jo took the cover letter and scanned the contents. As she did, her stomach turned. The bankruptcy court had written her parents on behalf of Adison Investments. They were to complete the attached forms and list, with proof, the amount of their investment. Once all the documents were returned, the case would be heard.
The legal jargon was difficult for Mary Jo to understand, but one thing was clear. Adison Investments hadn’t returned her father’s money.
Evan had.
“It’s nothing, Dad,” Mary Jo said, not knowing what else to say.
“Then throw it away. I don’t understand why we get so much junk mail these days. You’d think the environmentalists would do something about wasting all those trees.”
Mary Jo stuck the envelope in her purse, made her excuses and left soon afterward. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but if she didn’t escape soon, there’d be no hiding her tears.
Evan had done this for her family because he loved her. This was his way of saying goodbye. Hot tears blurred her eyes, and sniffling, she rubbed the back of her hand across her face.
The blast of a car horn sounded from behind her and Mary Jo glanced in the direction of the noise. Adrenaline shot through her as she saw a full-size sedan barreling toward her.
The next thing she heard was metal slamming against metal. The sound exploded in her ears and she instinctively brought her hands up to her face. The impact was so strong she felt as though she were caught in the middle of an explosion.
Her world went into chaos. There was only pain. Her head started to spin, and her vision blurred. She screamed.
Her last thought before she lost consciousness was that she was going to die.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME right away?” a gruff male voice demanded.
It seemed to come from a great distance away and drifted slowly toward Mary Jo as she floated, unconcerned, on a thick black cloud. It sounded like Evan’s voice, but then again it didn’t. The words came to her sluggish and slurred.
“We tried to contact you, but your secretary said you couldn’t be reached.”
The second voice belonged to her father, Mary Jo determined. But he, too, sounded odd, as if he were standing at the bottom of a deep well and yelling up at her. The words were distorted and they vibrated, making them difficult to understand. They seemed to take a very long time to reach her. Perhaps it was because her head hurt so badly. The throbbing was intense and painful.
“I came as soon as I heard.” It was Evan again and he sounded sorry, as if he was to blame. “How seriously is she hurt?”
“Doc says she sustained a head injury. She’s unconscious, but they claim she isn’t in a coma.”
“She’ll wake up soon,” her mother said in a soothing tone. “Now sit down and relax. Everything’s going to be all right. I’m sure the doctor will be happy to answer any of your questions. Mary Jo’s going to fine, just wait and see.”
Her mother was comforting Evan as if he were one of her own children, Mary Jo realized. She didn’t understand why Evan should be so worried. Perhaps he was afraid she was going to die. Perhaps she already had, but then she decided she couldn’t be dead because she hurt too much.
“What have they done to her head?”
Mary Jo was anxious for that answer herself.
“They had to shave off her hair.”
“Relax.” It was her father speaking. “It’ll grow back.”
“It’s just that she looks so…” Evan didn’t finish the sentence.
“She’ll be fine, Evan. Now sit down here by her side. I know it’s a shock seeing her like this.”
Mary Jo wanted to reassure Evan herself, but her mouth refused to open and she couldn’t speak. Something must be wrong with her if she could hear but not see or speak. When she attempted to move, she found her arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate. A sense of panic overwhelmed her and the pounding pain intensified.
Almost immediately she drifted away on the same dark cloud and the voices slowly faded. She longed to call out, to pull herself back, but she hadn’t the strength. And this way, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad.
THE NEXT THING Mary Jo heard was a soft thumping. It took her several moments to recognize what that particular sound meant. Someone was in her room, pacing. Whoever it was seemed impatient, or maybe anxious. She didn’t know which.
“How is she?” A feminine voice that was vaguely familiar drifted soothingly toward Mary Jo. The pain in her head was back, and she desperately wanted it to go away.
“There’s been no change.” It was Evan who spoke. Evan was the one pacing her room. Knowing he was there filled her with a gentle sense of peace. She’d recover if Evan was with her. How she knew this, Mary Jo didn’t question.
“How long have you been here?” The feminine voice belonged to Jessica, she decided.
“A few hours.”
“It’s more like twenty-four. I met Mary Jo’s parents in the elevator. They’re going home to get some sleep. You should, too. The hospital will call if there’s any change.”
“No.”
Mary Jo laughed to herself. She’d recognize that stubborn streak of his anywhere.
“Evan,” Jessica protested. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m not leaving her, Jessica. You can argue if you want, but it won’t do you a damn bit of good.”
There was a short silence. Mary Jo heard a chair being dragged across the floor. It was coming toward her. “Mary Jo was leaving Boston, did you know?”
“I know,” Evan returned. “Her mother called to tell me.”
“Were you going to stop her?”
It took him a long time to answer. “No.”
“But you love her.”
“Jess, please, leave it alone.”
Evan loved her and she loved him, and it was hopeless. A sob swelled within her chest and Mary Jo experienced an overwhelming urge to weep.
“She moved,” Evan said sharply, excitedly. “Did you see it? Her hand flinched just now.”
Mary Jo felt herself being pulled away once more into a black void where there was no sound. It seemed to close in around her like the folds of a dark, bulky blanket.
WHEN MARY JO OPENED her eyes, the first thing she saw was a patch of blue. It took her a moment to realize it was the sky from outside the hospital window. A scattering of clouds shimmied across the horizon. She blinked, trying to remember what she was doing in this bed, in this room.
She’d been in a car accident, that was it. She couldn’t remember any details—except that she thought she was dying. Her head had hurt so badly. The throbbing wasn’t nearly as intense now, but it was still there and the bright sunshine made her eyes water.
Rolling her head to the other side demanded a great deal of effort. Her mother was sitting at her bedside reading from a Bible and her father was standing on the other side of the room. He pressed his hands against the small of his back as if to relieve tired muscles.
“Mom.” Mary Jo’s voice was husky and low.
Marianna Summerhill vaulted to her feet. “Norman, Norman, Mary Jo’s awake.” Having said that, she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
It was very unusual to see her mother cry. Mary Jo looked at her father and saw that his eyes, too, were brimming with tears.
“So you decided to rejoin the living,” her father said, raising her hand to his lips. “Wel
come back.”
Smiling required more strength than she had.
“How do you feel?” Her mother was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and looking so pale that Mary Jo wondered if she’d been ill herself.
“Weird,” she said hoarsely.
“The doctor said he expected you to wake up soon.”
There was so much she wanted to ask, so much she had to say. “Evan?” she managed to croak.
“He was here,” her mother answered. “From the moment he learned about the accident until just a few minutes ago. No one could convince him to leave.”
“He’s talking with some fancy specialist right now,” her father explained. “I don’t mind telling you, he’s been beside himself with worry. We’ve all been scared.”
Her eyes drifted shut. She felt so incredibly weak, and what energy she had evaporated quickly.
“Sleep,” her mother cooed. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
No, no, Mary Jo protested, fighting sleep. Not yet. Not so soon. She had too many questions that needed answering. But the silence enveloped her once more.
It was night when she stirred again. The sky was dark and the heavens were flecked with stars. Moonlight softly illuminated the room.
She assumed she was alone, then noticed a shadowy figure against the wall. The still shape sat in the chair next to her bed. It was Evan, she realized, and he was asleep. His arms were braced against the edge of the mattress, supporting his head.
The comfort she felt in knowing he was with her was beyond measure. Reaching for his hand, she covered it with her own, then yawned and closed her eyes.
“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Marianna asked, carrying in the hospital tray and setting it on the bedside table.
Mary Jo was sitting up for the first time. “I don’t know,” she said, surprised by how feeble her voice sounded.
“I talked to the doctor about the hospital menu,” her mother said, giving her head a disparaging shake. “He assured me you’ll survive on their cooking until I can get you home and feed you properly.”
It probably wasn’t all that amusing, but Mary Jo couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time she really took note of her surroundings. The room was filled with fresh flowers. They covered every available surface; there were even half a dozen vases lined up on the floor.
“Who sent all the flowers?” she asked.
Her mother pointed toward the various floral arrangements. “Your brothers. Dad and I. Those two are from Jessica and Damian. Let me see—the teachers at your old school. Oh, the elaborate one is from the Drydens. That bouquet of pink carnations is from Gary.”
“How sweet of everyone.” But Mary Jo noticed that there were a number of bouquets her mother had skipped. Those, she strongly suspected, were from Evan.
Evan.
Just thinking about him made her feel so terribly sad. From the time she’d regained consciousness, he’d stopped coming to the hospital. He’d been there earlier, she was sure of it. The memories were too vivid not to be real. But as soon as she was out of danger, he’d left her life once more.
“Eat something,” Marianna insisted. “I know it’s not your mama’s cooking, but it doesn’t look too bad.”
Mary Jo shook her head and leaned back against the pillow. “I’m not hungry.”
“Sweetheart, please. The doctors won’t let you come home until you’ve regained your strength.”
Evan wasn’t the only one with a stubborn streak. She folded her arms and refused to even look at the food. Eventually, she was persuaded to take a few bites, because it was clear her lack of appetite was distressing her mother.
When the tray was removed, Mary Jo slept. Her father was with her when she awoke. Her eyes met his, which were warm and tender.
“Was the accident my fault?” She had to know, she remembered so little of what had happened.
“No. The other car ran a red light.”
“Was anyone else hurt?”
“No,” he said, taking her hand in both of his.
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
A slight smile crossed his face. “Your brothers were just as worried. And Evan.”
“He was here, wasn’t he?”
“Every minute. No one could get him to leave, not even his own family.”
But he wasn’t there now. When she really needed him.
Her father gently patted her hand, and when he spoke it was as if he’d been reading her thoughts. “Life has a way of making things right. Everything will turn out just the way it’s supposed to. So don’t you fret about Evan or his family or anything else. Just concentrate on getting well.”
“I will.” But her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart was with Evan.
A WEEK PASSED, and Mary Jo regained more of her strength each day. With her head shaved, she looked as if she’d stepped out of a science-fiction movie. All she needed were the right clothes and a laser gun and she’d be real Hollywood material.
If she continued to improve at this pace, she should be discharged from the hospital within the next couple of days. That was good news—not that she didn’t appreciate the excellent care she’d received.
Mary Jo spent part of the morning slowly walking the corridors in an effort to rebuild her strength. She still tired easily and took frequent breaks to chat with nurses and other patients. After a pleasant but exhausting couple of hours, she decided to go back to bed for a while.
As she entered her room, she stopped abruptly. Lois Dryden stood by the window, looking out of place in her tailored suit.
Lois must have sensed her return. There was no disguising her dismay when she saw Mary Jo’s shaved, bandaged head. She seemed incapable of speech for a moment.
Mary Jo took the initiative. “Hello, Mrs. Dryden,” she said evenly.
“Hello, my dear. I hope you don’t mind my dropping in like this.”
“No, of course I don’t mind.” Mary Jo made her way to the bed and got in, conscious of her still-awkward movements.
“I was very sorry to hear about your accident.”
Mary Jo adjusted the covers around her legs and leaned back against the raised mattress. “I’m well on the way to recovery now.”
“That’s what I understand. I heard there’s a possibility you’ll be going home soon.”
“I hope so.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
The offer surprised Mary Jo. “No, but thank you.”
Lois walked away from the window and stood at the foot of the bed, the picture of conventional propriety with her small hat and spotless white gloves. She looked directly at Mary Jo.
“I understand Jessica has come by a number of times,” she said.
“Yes,” Mary Jo answered. “She’s been very kind. She brought me a tape player and some books on tape.” Except that Mary Jo hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of the stories. No sooner would the tape begin than she’d drift off to sleep.
“I suppose Jessica told you she and Damian are expecting again.”
Without warning, Mary Jo’s heart contracted painfully. “Yes, I’m delighted for them.”
“Naturally, Walter and I are thrilled with the prospect of a second grandchild.”
It became important not to look at Evan’s mother, and Mary Jo focused her gaze out the window. The tightness in her chest refused to go away, and she realized the source of the pain was emotional. She longed for a child herself. Evan’s child. They’d talked about their home, planned their family. The picture of the house he’d described, with a yard full of laughing, playing children flashed into her mind.
The house would never be built now. There would be no children. No marriage. No Evan.
“Of course, Damian is beside himself with happiness.”
From somewhere deep inside, Mary Jo found the strength to say, “I imagine he is.”
“There’ll be a little less than two years between the two children. Andrew will be twenty months old by the time the baby’s born.” br />
Mary Jo wondered why Mrs. Dryden was telling her all this and could think of nothing more to say. She found the conversation exhausting. She briefly closed her eyes.
“I…I suppose I shouldn’t tire you any longer.”
“Thank you for stopping by,” Mary Jo murmured politely.
Lois stepped toward the door, then hesitated and turned back to the bed. Mary Jo noticed that the older woman’s hand trembled as she reached out and gripped the foot of the bed.
“Is something the matter?” Mary Jo asked, thinking perhaps she should ring for the nurse.
“Yes,” Evan’s mother said. “Something is very much the matter—and I’m the one at fault. You came to me not long ago because you wanted to marry my son. I discouraged you, and Evan, too, when he came to speak to his father and me.”
“Mrs. Dryden, please—”
“No, let me finish.” She took in a deep breath and leveled her gaze on Mary Jo. “Knowing what I do now, I would give everything I have if you’d agree to marry my son.”
CHAPTER TEN
MARY JO WASN’T SURE she’d heard Evan’s mother correctly. “I don’t understand.”
Instinctively, she knew that Mrs. Dryden was someone who rarely revealed her feelings. She knew that the older woman rarely lost control of a situation—or of herself. She seemed dangerously close to losing it now.
“Would…would you mind if I sat down?”
“Please do.” Mary Jo wished she’d thought to suggest it herself.
Lois pulled the chair closer to the bed, and Mary Jo was surprised by how delicate, how fragile, she suddenly appeared. “Before I say anything more, I must ask your forgiveness.”
“Mine?”
“Yes, my dear. When you came to me, happy and excited, to discuss marrying my son, I was impressed by your…your courage. Your sense of responsibility. You’d guessed my feelings correctly when Evan brought you to dinner three or so years ago. Although you were a delightful young woman, I couldn’t picture you as his wife. My son, however, was clearly enthralled with you.”