The Healer

  Cole dialed home and checked for messages. If Rachel had called, she hadn’t left a message. He hoped she was handling today okay. She had called from Baltimore to let him know she’d arrived, but he hadn’t heard from her since. He wished she would call. He could do so little from here. The next trip Rachel took East to see Jennifer, he would figure out a way to go with her.

  Five

  Did you ever plan to become a doctor? Or did we just decide you’d make a good one?” Rachel asked Jennifer, idly paging through one of the photo albums. The lights were dim and Tom was sound asleep in the hospital chair by the window. Rachel was keeping one eye on the clock. She had moved her flight to nine o’clock Tuesday night, and she didn’t want to leave one moment before she had to. It was getting close to that time.

  “The way I remember it was I wanted to be a surgeon and you and Lisa kept taking me by the hospital nursery to see the babies.”

  “I remember now. That was around when Lisa got fascinated with what they did with dead people.”

  “I did not enjoy that visit to the morgue.”

  Rachel didn’t think she would ever forget her glance into the autopsy room. “Don’t tell Lisa, but I nearly threw up.” She held up the list they had written over twenty years ago when they were meeting to decide on a last name for their new family. “I forgot we had the name Lewis on the list.”

  “Who suggested that?”

  Rachel held the list close to see the handwriting. “Lisa.”

  “She wanted matching initials.”

  Rachel read to the bottom of the list and laughed. “Jack suggested Magnificent.”

  “Jack Magnificent.” Jen let that draw out. “What a fantastic name. Who suggested O’Malley?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not on the list. There is a list of nationalities. I wanted an Australian connection. Ireland is not on the list though.”

  “You need one of the later lists. That sounds like our first meeting on the topic.”

  Rachel studied the list. “I think you’re right. If you find the last list, set it aside. It would be a good memento.”

  “I’ll keep an eye out.” Jen slid over the pad of paper she held. “That’s everything I can think of that I could use sent out here. The pistachio nuts are the most important item. They are Tom’s favorites and he needs something to munch on.”

  Rachel scanned Jennifer’s list. Most items could easily be bought here, but that wasn’t the point. Jen knew it helped if there was anything tangible she could let family do for her. “I’ll send the stuff out with Kate.” Rachel closed the photo album and looked over at Tom. “Do you think I should wake him up before I go? He’s got to be uncomfortable in that chair.”

  “Let him sleep.”

  Rachel reluctantly got up from her chair and gave Jennifer a long hug. Rachel leaned back, searching her sister’s face, very aware of the fact that it might be the last time she saw her alive. She didn’t want to forget so much as a curl of an eyelash, and she was afraid that over time this memory might dim. “I’ll call you when I get back to Chicago.”

  “Please do. No matter what the time.”

  “God bless, Jen.”

  Her sister hugged her back tightly. “He already has. He gave me you for a sister.” Jen leaned back. “And I want to hear about this dinner with Cole.”

  She should have never mentioned it. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Right. You’ll tell me everything?”

  Rachel smiled. “Maybe not everything.”

  It would have been cheaper just to buy a new picnic table. The sander jammed and kicked back at him. Cole shut it off, wiped the sweat from his hands, and reached for the ringing phone. “Cole.” The bugs around the garage light swarmed in a hum. His second chance to get a few hours at home, and he’d felt like taking out some of his weariness on wood. Ann’s patio furniture had likely been washed away, and this table would at least be a start in replacing it.

  “Hello, Cole.”

  The voice was faint but just hearing it filled him with pleasure. He settled on the bench he had been sanding and pressed the phone close. “Jennifer O’Malley. This is a surprise.”

  “A good one I hope?”

  “You’re now the bright spot of my day.”

  “That bad?”

  He laughed. “It’s been a long one.”

  “I’ve only got a minute, I’m afraid. Could you do me a favor?”

  “Done.”

  “You’re a trusting man.”

  “I just know you.”

  “Rachel is on her way to Chicago. She’s trying to sneak back into town.”

  His smile disappeared. “Jen—”

  “I can’t call family. I gave her my word.”

  The bonds between the O’Malleys went deep. If Jennifer had given her word, she wouldn’t break it. But she couldn’t leave a problem alone either.

  “Rachel just left the hospital. I’m worried about her. I was trying not to cry on her shoulder too much, but she’s so good about being empathetic that I probably did more than I realized. They stuck me in a wheelchair for good.”

  Cole wanted to help, but for all the time that he and Rae had spent together, she had yet to call him when she was in trouble. And he knew he wasn’t the one she would necessarily turn to when the pain hit this hard. “Call Gage.”

  “I did,” Jennifer said softly. “He’s not home.”

  So much for hoping Jennifer would say he was wrong about the way the wind blew. Gage had several years of history with Rachel, and in the past Cole had himself called Gage on Rae’s behalf. For Rae trust was the hardest emotion to extend, and she trusted Gage with her tears. Cole wanted that role in her life, but he was very aware that he would have to earn it.

  In the last few months Rachel had let him into a lot of her life, but the relationship was still progressing slower than he’d like. He understood part of it. Rachel didn’t take major risks in relationships; she inched her way to find out if the ground was safe before stepping forward. He wanted forever with someone; he had chosen her; and he was trying to proceed at her pace. She had heavy burdens to carry right now with Jennifer’s illness and her own work. He’d tried not to step into the time and energy Rae had left and take it for himself when she really needed some breathing space. “What time’s her flight getting in?”

  “After midnight. Northwest flight 712.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’ll meet her.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m sorry about the wheelchair,” Cole offered, at a loss for better words to express how sorry he was for what it represented.

  “So am I. Tom wants to get me one of those horns they put on kids’ bicycle handlebars so I can warn people I’m coming through. I’ve got to work on left turns. You’ll help Rae, Cole? With whatever she needs?”

  There was more going on than what she was saying. “You know I will, Jen. I’m glad you called.”

  “So am I. Thanks, Cole.”

  “Anytime, Jennifer.” Cole said and hung up the phone. Rae had so much on her plate right now. She wouldn’t want company tonight. Not when she had just left her sister, not if the news there was bad. He had observed Rachel long enough to know she was a hider by nature, wanting to curl up with her own thoughts until she gathered perspective on what to do. But Jennifer wouldn’t have asked if she wasn’t concerned.

  Lord, what should I do?

  Rachel might not want the company, but she needed it. Giving her twenty-four hours would leave the situation twenty-four hours older, but it wouldn’t heal the hurt on its own. Cole went to call the airline for the exact flight arrival time.

  Rachel glanced up from her book as the seat belt light chimed and flashed off for the fourth time during this return flight to Chicago. Given the repeated turbulence, adults ignored the freedom because they knew the seat belt light would be back on soon for landing.

  There was a scramble behind her. “We’re going to crash.”

  She tur
ned to look at the young girl pulling on the back of her seat, peering over the headrest. “If we do, I’ll get you out.” Rachel was sitting in the emergency exit aisle. She’d worked too many plane crash aftermath’s to voluntarily sit anywhere else.

  “And Mommy?”

  “And Mommy.”

  “What are you doing?”

  She half closed the book to show the cover. “Reading a teenage girl’s diary that was published.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  “Yes, she is.” She was also dead. The Columbine High School shooting had been memorialized in several ways, The Journals of Rachel Scott one of the more poignant. Rachel’s namesake had been murdered, and all the dreams written in the diary would remain just dreams.

  Setting aside the book, she reached for the sack in the empty seat beside her and offered a gummy bear to her new friend.

  “What do you say, Kelly?” the girl’s mom said.

  “Th’k you.”

  Rachel shared a smile with Kelly’s mom. Traveling with an infant and a bored, bright young girl who was not interested in sleeping was a challenge. “Is someone meeting you at the airport?”

  “My father,” Kelly’s mom said.

  “I’ll give you a hand getting down the causeway if you’d like. I’m traveling light; I checked my bag.”

  “I’d appreciate that. I worry about Kelly getting away from me in the crowd.”

  “I stay close, Mom.”

  “You try to, honey.”

  The infant went from sleep to scowl to tears. Rachel winced, knowing painful pressure in the ears was an unpleasant way to wake up. “We’re descending.”

  The offered pacifier eased the infant’s pain. “Buckle your seat belt, Kelly.”

  The girl scrambled to fasten her seat belt again and then looked out the window. “That’s Chicago?”

  It was hard to see the city lights through the haze and light rain, but there were glimmering twinkles down there.

  “That’s home,” Rachel agreed, stowing her book in her briefcase. If she could slip into town unnoticed, she just might get twenty-four hours to herself before she returned to the site of the flooding. She had plans to curl up on her couch in a nest of pillows with a homemade milkshake and watch reruns of Quincy she had on tape until her mind was numb and she fell asleep.

  “Grandpa.”

  Rachel released Kelly’s hand to let her join the gray-haired man getting up from the first seat in the waiting area.

  “It looks like we’re not the only one being met.” Kelly’s mom nodded toward the concourse.

  Rachel turned to look. Cole stood a few feet away blocking traffic, people flowing around him like he was a rock in the middle of a river. She held his gaze for a long, searching moment, then looked away. “So it appears. That’s Cole.” Her rock. Immovable. And not supposed to be here.

  Kelly tugged on Rachel’s jeans. “He’s a fireman?”

  Surprised at Kelly’s question, Rachel glanced back. He wore his old jacket, wet at the shoulders, faded jeans, and then she saw the boots. Only Cole would think nothing about wearing steel-tipped black boots with yellow stripes on the sides outside of an arson scene. “Either that or a sewer repairman.”

  Cole heard her and chuckled.

  Rachel touched the child’s shoulder. “Have fun with your grandparents, Kelly.”

  “We’re going to go see the big fish aquarium this week.”

  “That’s a good plan.”

  Rachel said farewell to Kelly’s mom and moved to join Cole. “I didn’t realize you knew I was coming back to Chicago tonight.”

  “Jennifer called me. Gage apparently wasn’t home.”

  And her sister didn’t have time to be subtle—she was matchmaking from a hospital bed. Oh, Jennifer, did you have to call Cole? Rachel knew that Jennifer’s focus on seeing the O’Malleys settled could come across as pushy if presented wrong. “I could have caught a taxi.” She never knew how long she might be gone on a trip, so she had a habit of taxiing back and forth to the airport.

  “Nonsense. You want to spend the next hour in a smoky taxi with a stranger? Tollway traffic is always a mess when it rains,” he said easily.

  Cole had a point, but she struggled to offer him a smile and thanks. She wanted this man to see her at her best, and right now she was far from it. If exhaustion was not written across her face, the sadness probably was. She was ready for the anonymity of strangers.

  “Not that pleased to see me?”

  “It’s not that, Cole. I’m just overwhelmed right now,” she apologized. “I’m afraid I’m not adjusting well to even good surprises today.”

  “That I can understand.” Cole held out his hand for her briefcase. “Why don’t we see if we can’t make life a little less overwhelming.”

  She stepped forward, gave him the briefcase, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I missed you.”

  She heard her briefcase hit the floor beside him as his arms came around her. He was such a solid, steady man, and it felt good to close her eyes for a moment and just enjoy the comfort he offered. He cared so much about making this better, and she leaned into that strength and emotion, using it to let go of the trip and the weight it had pressed into her soul.

  “Forget my phone number?” he asked softly.

  “I thought about calling just to hear your voice.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She was wondering the same thing and sighed. “I didn’t want to interrupt your work.”

  Cole rested his head on hers. “Work I get 365 days a year. It doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

  She smiled as those words reassured that they were okay. “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she whispered.

  “You’re forgiven.” He stepped back and tipped up her chin. “How’s Jennifer really doing? She dodged my question.” She held his gaze as his searched hers, seeing in his eyes the same sympathy she heard in his voice.

  “Jaundiced. On morphine. Spending what time she’s out of bed in a wheelchair. We cruised the pediatric cancer wing at Johns Hopkins last night reading bedtime stories and hearing ‘bless my mommy and my daddy and my kitten’ prayers. The kids giggled at the fact that their visiting doctor had no hair.”

  His hands soothed hers. “I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.”

  “Three days was enough. You could tell Jennifer was trying to be up for me.”

  Cole reached down and picked up her briefcase. He turned her toward the concourse. “Feel like eating?”

  “Another time perhaps.”

  He rubbed the spot on the back of her shoulders where her headaches were born. “Let it go.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “You can sleep in, watch cartoons in the morning.”

  The man had passed forty and stopped apologizing for liking Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote. “I appreciate the suggestion. I’ll stick to my newspaper, coffee, and a morning walk.”

  They had to wait for the luggage to appear on the carousel. Since Cole had bought her the luggage for Christmas, she let him retrieve the bag. He was a practical man. Gage bought her a Christmas wreath; Cole bought her luggage. She thought he spent too much, but a quiet word from her brother Jack had stopped her from mentioning that. She hadn’t known the autographed baseball she gave Cole for Christmas to replace one destroyed by a vandal had been worth a small fortune. She’d had it in a drawer. She hadn’t looked at the value of the gift and neither had Cole.

  “You’re doing it again, Rae.”

  “What?”

  “Worrying a problem in circles.”

  She slipped her hand under his arm, squeezed his forearm, and offered a smile. “A bad habit of mine.” She really was trying to take those worries to God and then let them go. “Take me home.”

  “Home it is.”

  Cole led the way through the tunnel to the parking garage. He unlocked the passenger door for her and the faint smell of charred wood filtered out. His fire coat had been tossed on the b
ackseat. “You came here from a fire scene?”

  “Left over from this afternoon.”

  “Was it serious?”

  “No injuries, moderate damage. Repairs to an attic fan sparked and caused an insulation fire.” He pulled out into traffic.

  “I came up with a name for your dog,” Rachel offered.

  “You did? I’ve been waiting with great expectation.”

  “Hank.”

  Cole laughed.

  “Have you ever met someone named Hank?”

  “Besides a famous pitcher and singer? No.”

  Rachel swatted his arm. “I like it.”

  “Hank. Okay, I suppose the mutt can grow into it. It’s an old dog name.”

  The rain was intensifying. Rachel watched the wet darkness. She had missed Cole, and his calm presence. Just seeing him was enough to help her relax. It meant a lot that he had set aside his plans for the night to come and meet her. “I changed my mind. Think you can find carryout at this time of night? I need to talk.”

  “This storm is drifting east over the lake. If you don’t mind eating in the car, I’ll find us Chinese carryout and a place to park and watch the storm.”

  “Please.”

  Lightning hit the water. The blinding flash destroyed Cole’s night vision.

  “Wow.”

  Rae had disappeared into the darkness, but the awe in her voice told Cole she’d seen it too. She emerged from the shadows as his eyes adjusted again to the night. She had folded her jacket into a temporary pillow behind her against the window and turned in the seat to angle toward him. She’d finished her sweet and sour chicken. It wasn’t the elegant Chinese dinner he’d hoped for, but it was hot and she’d been hungry. He was pleased to see her relaxing.

  Cole set his shrimp-fried rice carton on the dash. “It’s a good show tonight.” Lake Michigan was spread out in a vast expanse from this parking lot at the south end of Illinois Beach State Park. Rae said she’d nearly called just to hear his voice—he let that one linger, pleased to realize she’d been thinking about him. And his new dog had been on her mind. Hank. He was not letting her name their first child.