The Rescuer

  “When did he learn to do that?” Stephen tried not to trip over his feet as he moved backward.

  “He’s been floating on air ever since he and Cassie got engaged.”

  “Good shot.” Stephen slapped Jack on the back as he went past. They’d been the dynamic duo since their teens, one heading into a skirmish and the other backing him up. He had missed this.

  Jack stole the ball and raced down the court. Stephen grabbed a breath and ran too. He was going to kill his brother for being gung ho at midnight.

  “You’re limping.”

  “Be quiet, Kate.” Stephen crossed the spacious kitchen in her home and pulled an ice pack from the freezer. Dawn light was coming in the window; just looking in that direction gave him a headache. They’d landed at Dave and Kate’s after the basketball game, and somehow the night had never ended.

  She laughed, pushed him toward a chair, and brought him aspirin. She kissed his forehead. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Did we have to make the welcome home celebration into a twelve-hour event?”

  “You’re the one who said yes when Jack mentioned there was an all-night one-hour photo place down the street from the gym.”

  “I didn’t think he meant right then and that we’d develop every picture I had taken on the trip. It cost me a fortune. I noticed you bailed at 2 A.M.”

  “I gave up my overnight tendencies when I got out of hostage rescue.”

  He flicked water from his glass at her. “I was practically waving a white flag and you were ignoring the signals.”

  “You could have just told Jack you were going home.”

  “Not in this lifetime. He would have shown up at my place at six o’clock to wake me up.” Stephen ran his hand through his hair then rested his chin on his palm. He laughed. “It was fun. He won’t be able to play an all-nighter once he’s married.”

  “Marriage does change things a bit. Speaking of which, where is my husband?”

  “Crashed in the living room, I think. I stumbled over him somewhere. I vaguely remember him saying something about the sun coming up, then the next thing I knew some fat orange cat was landing on my belly and digging in claws. I can’t believe you still have that beast.”

  “I normally don’t let Marvel inside. Dave is the soft touch.”

  Stephen debated the merits of falling asleep at his sister’s kitchen table. “Thanks for being kind about the welcome home.”

  “Dave said I moped without you around.”

  He grinned. “Did you?”

  “You don’t have to look so pleased at the idea.”

  Stephen laughed and twirled his glass. “I’ll tell you a secret, K. I’m going to spoil my niece or nephew something crazy.”

  “Niece. I’m really hoping for a little girl.”

  He blinked moisture out of his eyes as he lifted his glass. “A little girl. It will be great.” And he was going to be blubbering on her soon. “You’ll find a good obstetrician and pediatrician?”

  “Dave has already made sure of it.”

  “And follow their advice.”

  She kicked him under the table and he smiled back at her.

  “Was your trip worth it, Stephen?”

  His smile slowly faded. He was tired enough to be honest. “At least while I traveled I didn’t have to face the sharpness of walking into places we had shared with Jennifer and dealing with the fact that she wasn’t there anymore. Those first few weeks—my heart was bleeding. I’d sleep and see her face; I’d walk into a crowd of tourists and think I saw her. The ache of that doesn’t go away, but at least it’s not as sharp.”

  She rested her chin on her hand. “It was a double whammy for me. Jennifer was the one I’d call when I needed to know things were right with the world; she was always the optimist, while the rest of us are more realists. And then when you were gone too—I got used to your looking out for me and being there when I turned around. I missed you, Stephen. My days just weren’t the same.”

  “I missed you too, more than I can put into words. It was part of my daily routine too, that ritual of listening to the scanner so I could find out if you had gotten yourself into a jam somewhere. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “How much is it going to bother you and the rest of the family if I don’t end up here in Chicago?”

  “I don’t know about the others, but if you decide to settle in Arizona, you’ll have problems with me.”

  Stephen smiled. He flexed his sore wrist. “It’ll probably be around here somewhere. I want to swing a hammer for a bit this summer, and I’d prefer doing it where there isn’t a traffic jam outside my window at 2 A.M. I did find out during my travels that I like the slower pace of small-town living.”

  “You’ll make a good carpenter.” Kate got up, reached over, and caught his hand. “Come on. I want to show you what I’m thinking for the nursery.”

  “You’ve got months yet, and it’s bad luck to start planning a nursery this early.”

  “I’m doing this my own way. Besides, you need time to make the furniture.”

  His eyes narrowed at her pleased expression. “Just how much furniture are we talking about?”

  Thirteen

  SILVERTON

  JoAnne and Ken had a nice place outside of Silverton. Stephen slowed to look at an old windmill as he drove past. It had been restored and appeared to be in perfect condition—freshly painted and built ages before to feed power to the well below. Two birds were swooping between the turning blades. There must be an awesome view of land all the way to the Mississippi River from up there. In the two weeks since his last drive into town, a promise of spring had come to the landscape. This was pretty country. He reached for the car phone and called Dr. Delhart’s office. “Meghan Delhart please.”

  His call was transferred.

  “This is Meghan. May I help you?”

  Her voice was so businesslike and crisp; he grinned and made the turn into town. “Hey, beautiful. Can I take you to lunch?”

  “Stephen! Sure, where are you?”

  “Cruising up Main Street on the way to your office.”

  She laughed. “Stop at the restaurant and get a table. I’ll finish up what I’m doing and be right down.”

  “I’m celebrating, so bring your appetite.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it over lunch.”

  Stephen found a place by the bank to park his truck. He locked the doors.

  Main Street could be walked in its entirety in two minutes. He didn’t hurry as he walked. It was a beautiful town with a budget that allowed the curbs to be kept in good repair, the public buildings painted, and the streets swept of clutter. Benches were set out and trees planted along Main Street, and numerous neatly painted signs marked parking and tourist stops. No wonder Meghan thought of it as a town with a good heart.

  Stephen opened the door to Coffer’s jewelry store. He’d met the owner twice during his walks with Meghan. She considered Neil a friend. The man was cleaning a glass display case. “There’s a piece in the window, a bracelet,” Stephen commented.

  “I know the piece.” Taking his time, Neil moved toward the front window and retrieved the piece. He set the velvet and the piece on the glass countertop.

  Stephen picked it up. “It’s beautiful.” Each link was engraved with either a vine or a rose with starbursts holding the links together.

  “I made it for my wife, but she passed away before I could finish it.”

  “Can you bear to part with it?”

  “It’s in the window, isn’t it?”

  There was no price on it. Stephen set the piece down on the velvet and ran his finger along the gold links. To have finished it after she had passed away… He could just imagine the memories. It might be in the window, but he bet Neil wasn’t ready to let it go yet. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

  The man studied him, gave a curt nod, then carried it back to the window.


  Stephen looked over the display cases. Numerous packing boxes were stacked by the door leading into the back of the store. “Are you moving?” Stephen asked, making conversation, liking the man even though he suspected it would take years to get a smile from him. The stroke had left Neil’s left side weak and his walk a bit unsteady, but the man’s thoughts were still sharp.

  “Keeping the house now that my wife is gone and that I’m limited in my movements isn’t worth it. I figured I’d move permanently into the second-floor apartment here and sell the farm.”

  “Meghan mentioned your place during my last visit.”

  “It adjoins her parents’ place. They’re nice neighbors, the Delharts.”

  Stephen laid out the sketch of a bracelet he’d made on a napkin at dinner last night. “Could you make me something like this? Meghan’s partial to silver.”

  Neil picked up the napkin. “It will take a few days. And I’m not so steady on the detail work any longer. I don’t do much of this kind of work anymore.”

  “Your best effort. She’ll love the fact that you made it.” Stephen dug out a pen and jotted his cell phone number down. “I’ll swing back to town when it’s ready. And—” Stephen pointed to another bracelet in the case with a fine gold braided chain and a line of four linked hearts—“wrap that for me?”

  Neil gave a rough bark of laughter. “You’re either apologizing or courtin’.”

  “Celebrating.” He pulled out his wallet.

  “Same thing.”

  Neil wrapped the gift, added a bow to the box, and handed it over. “Come back anytime. I’ll help you lighten more of that wallet.”

  Stephen laughed and nodded his thanks. He walked to the restaurant, the box in his hand, his finger curling the bow. Maybe it was a little much, but Meghan would like it and celebrations needed gifts.

  Meghan was coming toward him, Blackie leading the way. Stephen slowed, enjoying the sight. She couldn’t see, but she walked with a smile, head tilted up to enjoy the sun, her pace fast beside Blackie. He’d pretty much given up on lasting happiness—he’d seen too many people he loved get ripped away—but he wouldn’t mind sharing Meghan’s happiness on this day. She had a smile a man could get lost in. “I’m watching this really nice-looking lady out strolling without a jacket in February when it’s only a few degrees above freezing out here.”

  She slowed as she heard his voice and then picked up her pace. She looked directly at him. It was a punch in the gut to have that gaze focused on him. For a moment it was as if she could see him. “I can feel spring in the air; whereas you’ve been traveling in all those warm places and forgotten this perfect moment that comes once a year.”

  “True. Hi there, Blackie.”

  “He loves the idea of spring too.”

  Stephen held the restaurant door for her. “Do you have a favorite table?”

  “Third on the right.” He settled her at the table and she double-checked that Blackie had his feet and tail tucked out of the way so he wouldn’t get stepped on. “What are we celebrating?”

  He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, looked at it, and then leaned over to hand her the check. “This. Across the top it says Stephen O’Malley. And on the next line is the sum of the proceeds of not only two home sales, but also a dining-room table I made. I should go away for a few months more often.”

  She traced her finger across the check and then offered it back to him. “That is so neat, Stephen. You deserve to have your carpentry skills recognized.”

  “Now comes the decision of what home to buy and fix up next. I want your opinion on some places.”

  He paused so they could order lunch. The waitress looked at the box with the bow he’d set on the table, then at Meghan, and then at him. The lady smiled and he smiled back. She didn’t mention the box as she confirmed their order and went to get their drinks.

  Stephen settled back in his chair, studying Meghan as her fingers skimmed the tabletop, placing items into her mental map. “The realtor has already found three properties for me to consider. Two of them are single family homes; the other is a duplex.”

  “All of them are in the city? All need a lot of work?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  “They sound right up your alley.”

  “That’s why I want your advice. Kate asked me to make the furniture for the baby’s room.”

  “Oh, you should! What a wonderful idea.”

  “It would be time consuming, and I’d need a workshop with some space. I don’t think any of these properties would give that kind of space.”

  “You know you want to make Kate’s furniture.”

  He smiled at her assertion. “You’re right; I do. I’ll pass on these properties and keep looking.” Their lunch arrived and he paused as the waitress positioned plates and Meghan got her bearings. “That’s my last two weeks. What have you been up to?”

  Her smile faded a bit. “Breaking in my piano and getting accustomed to being a home owner.”

  “Something wrong, Meghan?”

  She quickly shook her head. “It’s just strange, learning the sounds of a new house. It was windy last night.” She gave a rueful laugh. “I spook at the smallest things, thinking someone is there. Blackie is sleeping peacefully and I’m jumping at every creak of a board.”

  “You do look a little tired.”

  “In a few months I’ll know this house as well as my parents’ place, and it won’t be that big a deal anymore.”

  “Call me next time you’re lying there listening to strange sounds. You can describe them to me and I can guess along with you. It would be nice to have the phone ring in the middle of the night again. I kind of miss the pager interruptions in my life.”

  She tilted her head as she considered the offer. “Okay.”

  “Take me up on it. Meg—” he smiled at her and gently ran a finger along her cheek—“I’m glad you were free.”

  She smiled tentatively back at him, then nodded to her pie. “Do you have time for a walk after lunch?”

  “I’d enjoy it.”

  When their meal was completed, Stephen paid the bill and tucked the jewelry box in his pocket as she gathered up Blackie’s harness. They wandered down Main Street together. He thought she might turn toward her place and show him her new piano, but instead she motioned Blackie to stay on Main Street.

  “The church is up ahead,” Stephen commented.

  “Do you mind if we stop in?”

  He did, but he agreed to anyway. “We can stop.”

  The church was open, but the sanctuary was empty. Meghan released Blackie’s harness and let him go off duty. “I love this place.”

  It was obvious she knew the church well, for she walked the aisle without thinking about her steps. Stephen trailed her. “Why?”

  “My earliest memories are of the organ music. I was baptized here, and JoAnne and I met in the youth group.”

  Stephen looked around the room and saw comfortable pews, the worn carpet in the front of the sanctuary, the stained glass by the baptistery. He had been in churches like this as a child. His parents had gone to church on Sunday mornings no matter what town they were in, even during vacations. It felt strange, and kind of sad to be back in a place so similar to what he remembered from his childhood and to find it made him uncomfortable just being there.

  Meghan slid into the second row from the front. “I prayed for you while you were gone.”

  “What did you pray?”

  She rested her chin on the back of a pew in front of her. “That you’d come back.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “Running away doesn’t solve the hurt.”

  “It didn’t. It just reminded me of what loneliness feels like.”

  She turned her head toward him. “You need a friend, Stephen.”

  “I’ve got you.”

  “Yes, you do. But Jesus wants to be your friend too. I wish you’d let Him.”

  “The idea of a personal relationship with someo
ne you can’t even know is there for certain—” He didn’t finish the thought. He had no desire to hurt her with his words. “Is this where you came, the first year after you went blind, to find the ability to smile again? You came back with an enviable sense of peace about you.”

  “Yes. I’m partial to sitting under the big willow tree out back and remembering the view.”

  He looked out the window. The view she remembered had changed to a parking lot addition and a storage building. “What did you think about while you were sitting out there?”

  She slid from the pew, hitting her hip on the end post. She rubbed the sore area as she walked forward to the piano. She pulled out the bench and sat down, picking out a few notes. He recognized the simple melody of “Jesus Loves Me.”

  “Mom often says that life is what you make of it. It took about a year, but I decided I would survive being blind. It’s not the worst thing that could happen.”

  Stephen leaned against the grand piano, watching her expression soften and her eyes close as she played. “You’ve been practicing.”

  “Every day.”

  He sat beside her on the bench and it wobbled under both their weights. “Remind me to tighten these bench legs for you.”

  “This song is called ‘Blessings.’” She shifted into a new song he’d not heard before.

  “And I’m honestly not ducking your conversation about God. I’m just saving us from a disagreement.”

  “You were never a coward, Stephen. Why are you about this subject?”

  “I’ve already made my decision. I know what God expects of a man, and I’m not ready to meet my end of the deal.”

  “Well it’s an honest answer at least. The basis of it is wrong, but it’s honest. You can’t earn your way to being okay with God—sin is too pervasive. And while God does expect a lot once you’re a Christian, when you know Jesus the things you care about, the things you do, change. The changes God wants are a by-product of that friendship, not rules you have to meet in order to be accepted.”