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Max rose to greet Taylor, stepping quickly from behind his cluttered desk. He gave her a gentle embrace and then sat back on the edge of his desk. “How are you holding up?”
Taylor bit her top lip and nodded, not meeting his dark eyes.
“I wish I could have been there. I’m so sorry—”
She held up a hand, stopping him. This was the worst—hearing someone say they were sorry and seeing the sadness in their eyes. Sometimes she wished everyone would pretend nothing had happened, that they would give her a few days, even hours, to mend.
She was being unkind, she thought, and expelled a long breath.
When the silence became uncomfortable she changed topics. “I just came from Josh’s room. His spirits seem good.”
Max nodded and looked at the floor.
“How bad is it? Can you tell me?”
Max exhaled loudly. “Too soon to say, but we’re optimistic.”
“Spinal cord?”
“Not severed.”
Taylor dropped into the chair behind her, only now realizing how much she had dreaded another answer. Max took the seat next to her, tugged at a leg of his scrubs and crossed an ankle over one knee. “I keep reminding myself how much worse it could have been. If Shane hadn’t been on his way over to the farm when the plane went down—”
“You mean he actually saw the crash?” Bile rose in her throat just thinking about it.
Max shook his head. “Hannah and Jenny had done a lot of baking that morning, and Shane volunteered to drive some things over to the farm. Thank God he was in his Explorer and had his cell phone.” Max rubbed his temples and Taylor saw the fatigue and worry on his face. “Josh tipped his wings when he spotted Shane on the road below... the way he likes to do whenever he sees one of us...or at least that’s what Shane thought he was doing. Then the plane cleared the trees and—” Max sucked in air and finished “—we all heard the impact. The ground shook and I knew...”
Taylor reached out a hand and touched his arm. “We don’t have to talk about this now.”
“No. It’s okay.” He patted the back of her hand. “Shane called 911 and got to the site soon after. But all he could see was fire and smoke. Then he said he thought he was seeing a mirage. Heat waves rose from the ground and he saw Josh’s jacket. He drove as close as he could and dragged Josh far enough away before the explosion.”
“And Shane?”
“Just scrapes and bruises when he hit the ground.” He uncrossed his legs and braced his elbows on his knees. “And an unwarranted dose of guilt.”
“Guilt?”
“He can’t get it out of his head that he might have done the damage to Josh’s legs when he dragged him.”
“But, Max, the alternative—”
Max slapped his knees and stood. “I know. I’ve told him that. But until Josh walks again, Shane won’t listen to reason.”
Taylor pushed out of her chair and faced Max, feeling the effects of the worst week of her life. “Then we’ll just have to make sure Josh walks again, won’t we?” She tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth wouldn’t move.
Max smiled for her. “If anyone can do it, Taylor, it’s you...but it will mean a lot of extra hours. I know the timing couldn’t be worse—”
“The timing couldn’t be better. I need to work right now.”
He held her gaze and looked as if he wanted to say more. There was so much pain on his tanned face, the gray at his temples more pronounced than she remembered.
“I have a patient in postop. Will you be around a while?”
She nodded. “Either in PT or with Josh.”
“Good. There’s something we need to talk about.” He looked guilty suddenly, and she couldn’t imagine what was on his mind. “I—I know this is a terrible imposition, but I was hoping you might move out to the ranch when Josh goes home. He’ll need a lot of one-on-one time, and I doubt he’d work as well with me.” Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but Max stopped her. “Just think about it. No need to decide now.”
Taylor stood rooted in place and watched Max amble down the hall toward Recovery.
Move out to the ranch? The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Yet the idea of too much time alone in her small apartment had worried her. The move could help her as well as Josh.
Then why was she experiencing this shortness of breath? What was she afraid of? She knew and liked the family, and there was plenty of room for her in that big sprawling home.
Finally she puffed out her cheeks, burst out a long breath and headed for the Physical Therapy Unit. It was best not to think about the future right now.
Hard work. Lots of it. That’s what she needed.
Time would clear the cobwebs.
The patient load was lighter than usual, giving Taylor too much time to think. Each moment there was a break in the schedule, she thought of Josh upstairs, and confusion swirled in her head. Less than a week ago she didn’t even like the man. In fact, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him the few days a week she’d worked at the ranch clinic. Now she couldn’t get him out of her thoughts.
He was hurt. He needed her help. Staying at the ranch during his therapy made sense. Logic, logic, logic. It wasn’t working this time.
The last patient left and she strode toward Josh’s room, drawn there with a force she was too weary to analyze. When she arrived at his bedside, he opened his eyes and smiled his easy smile again.
“You’re back.”
“I said I would.”
“A woman of her word.” He patted the edge of his bed and she sat gingerly. “Hear any good jokes lately?”
She laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. “Afraid not.”
His expression grew serious. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish again.” He turned off the TV with the remote on his bed railing, then met Taylor’s eyes. “I meant to say something before about your mother—”
Taylor averted her gaze, bracing herself for another “I’m sorry about your loss.” But Josh surprised her.
“I know how you feel.” He took her hand as he had before and the reaction in her limbs was the same. “Anytime you want to talk...maybe reminisce...you know where to find me.” His stroke on the back of her hand felt good. Sincere. “I don’t have as many memories as you do,” he added, “but I’ll tell you a few of mine if you’ll tell me some of yours... when you’re ready.”
Taylor’s gaze drifted lazily over the length of his battered body and then returned to his drooping eyelids. In spite of all that had happened to him, his concerns were for her. This didn’t quite mesh with her earlier impression of this man. Had he always been this sensitive and she’d missed it? Or was it that her guard was down?
Whichever, she was glad when he closed his eyes, glad that he didn’t see the moisture brimming in her own.
She tiptoed from the room and stopped at the front desk, where she’d left her two bags from the airport. They were light, and the distance to her apartment was short, so she decided to walk. The cool evening breeze revived her, and she thought that sometime soon she should make arrangements to get her car from the ranch. Yet in her grief even this little detail seemed to overwhelm her.
She entered her quiet second-floor apartment and just stood in the middle of the warm dusky room, bags still in hand, not knowing what to do next. Time passed, she wasn’t sure how much, before she remembered something important. She walked to her bedroom, opened one bag and found what she was looking for. Gently she lifted the two calico-covered journals and pressed them to her chest.
At last the tears spilled freely. She dropped on the bed and let them come. There was no one watching; she no longer needed to be brave. And when the tears had run their course, she opened her nightstand, slipped the books inside and gently closed the drawer, knowing it would be some time before she was ready to face such personal pages. Someday she would read them. Every word. Then she would know her mother’s fears.
A chill trailed through her as she crawled into her cold bed and closed her eyes. The old love seat in the Ann Arbor attic, with its loose floorboards beneath, were her last waking thoughts.
John Phillips traipsed up the attic stairs and braced his weight on one arm of the old love seat. A hand-crocheted throw lay folded neatly over the opposite arm. He remembered the hours of contentment on his wife’s face as she’d pulled each stitch of it while patiently awaiting the birth of Taylor.
Memories. There were so many good ones.
Yet there were bad times, too—one nightmare that cut so deep he had been certain at the time that the pain would never leave him, but with the help of God their marriage had more than survived. It had found peace and love again.
Weary to the bone, he lifted the end of the love seat and hunkered down to remove the loose planks. His fingers paused over the cracks in the wood, remembering the time years ago when he’d discovered the journals and the days after when he’d decided not to tell Angela.
Finally he would destroy the only remaining evidence of that dreaded time in their lives. He lifted the boards and stared at the empty space below. Stunned, he sat down with a thump. It had been years since he’d looked here. Perhaps Angela had destroyed them long ago. He rubbed his chest as if it would slow the pounding of his heart. Surely the children hadn’t found the journals. Had they?
No. It was unthinkable. If they had, they would have said something. He would have seen the questions in their eyes, a change of some sort.
When his pulse slowed, he returned the boards and love seat to their original place, picked up the handmade throw and took it with him down the stairs, clutching the treasure to him and reassuring himself that the secret was safe at long last.
Four
The scrapes and bruises on Josh’s face and arms disappeared over the next couple of weeks, and although no feeling had returned to his legs, his smile seemed as optimistic as ever.
Taylor watched him flex his biceps as he pulled himself up to the bar over his chest. He had long ago abandoned hospital garb in favor of his own white T-shirts, which fit snugly over his well-worked torso. Thankfully his shoulder had healed well. The effects of hard work with his upper body was evident. And distracting. Yes, she was glad to see him working out, though she’d seen other patients do the same, and their results hadn’t left her weak in the knees.
“So...when do I get out of here?” Josh asked.
She made herself look at his face, which was no small feat. “That’s not for me to decide,” she said with a forced calm. He pulled himself up and down on the bar some more, showing off his strength. In the past she’d thought hunky bodies meant empty brains. It seemed where Josh Malone was concerned, she was usually wrong. Her visits at his bedside had proved it time and again.
“Well, I can get myself in and out of a wheelchair without a problem. Don’t you think I could do the rest at home just as easily?”
Shane and Jenny sauntered into the room before Taylor could answer, buying her time to compose her racing thoughts. If Josh went home, was she ready to move to the ranch? To work so closely with him day after day?
Shane backhanded Josh’s shoulder. “You causing problems again, little bro?”
“Me?” He looked offended, then smiled. “I just want to get out of here and start walking, that’s all.”
Jenny planted a noisy kiss on his cheek. “You’d better pretty soon.” She smoothed her cotton top over her ever-growing belly and locked her fingers below the big bulge. “Does it look like we can wait forever? Remember your promise, Joshua!”
Taylor watched the family interplay from the foot of the bed and thought of Michael and her father. She missed them more than ever and envied the easy camaraderie of the Malones.
Josh cocked his head and frowned at Jenny. “What promise?”
“You know very well what promise...to be our backup plan if these babies decide to come quickly. Who else can fly us here to the hospital?”
Shane tugged his wife closer. “I could try. Couldn’t do much worse than Josh.”
“Very funny,” Josh said, yet his expression didn’t register amusement. He seemed distracted by something and Taylor wondered what. Was he afraid to fly again? She sure would be.
Shane punched his shoulder. “Come on. Lighten up. Since when did you take yourself so seriously?”
Josh stared at his legs and Shane looked as though he’d been stabbed in the gut. He shuffled his feet and then continued. “That Cessna dealer called last night. Said your new plane will be ready soon.”
Taylor studied Josh’s reaction, but she couldn’t be sure how he felt about the news, and he didn’t comment.
Jenny tugged at Shane’s arm. “We’re going to be late for my appointment if we don’t get going.” She bussed Josh’s cheek again and stepped back, taking Shane’s hand. She hesitated at the foot of the bed, and Taylor met her questioning look. In that brief instant she thought she saw a challenge in Jenny’s eyes that seemed to be saying, Will you be there for him when he needs you most? How much do you really care?
“See you later,” Jenny said, talking to Josh, but still sizing up Taylor.
Taylor picked up Josh’s chart and pretended not to notice.
Though later that night, on the slow walk home, she asked herself the imagined question, How much did she really care?
Just before leaving the hospital she’d told Max she would move out to the ranch—temporarily, of course—and he’d seemed glad. Too much time alone at her apartment had left her indulging her grief far more than she thought she would at the ranch, surrounded by others.
With a heavy heart, she entered her building and trudged up the stairs, knowing there was something else on her mind.
It was time to begin reading her mother’s journals.
Today was my first day back to work since Taylor was born and what a day of emotion it was! Dropping my precious little toddler off at the sitter’s was like ripping my heart from my chest. Those sad blue eyes when I said goodbye filled me with such guilt. I was tempted to scoop her up in my arms and take her home with me, but I didn’t, which made me feel so very selfish.
Why can’t I be like other women who are happy being full-time moms? I love my time with Taylor, but I missed nursing and the company of adults who talked in complete sentences.
When I got to the hospital everyone seemed pleased to see me. There was even a “Welcome Back” banner hanging in the nurses’ lounge. I called the sitter twice to be certain Taylor was doing well and was grateful to hear she was making new friends and adjusting quickly.
I was a little worried about getting back into the routine at the hospital, but it was as though I had never left. Max was busier than I ever remembered him. Students rushed after him from one postop patient to the next, hanging on his every word. It was good to see him again and something of a surprise. When he returned home to Montana the last time, I didn’t expect to see him again. I missed him like crazy, but it was for the best that he left when he did. His three sons are still young, the youngest only a few years older than Taylor. How he manages to live with weekend visits, I’ll never understand. He occasionally talks of the boys with a faraway look of tenderness on his face, but then it always turns sad and he changes the subject.
Poor Max. I can’t imagine days away from my family. Even though today passed quickly—and I must confess I loved being back—ten hours away from Taylor was long enough. And oh, the joy in my heart when she flung her chubby little arms around my neck and said, “Mommy, Mommy!”
John was rather cool with me over dinner and didn’t want to hear about my day. I wish he could understand why I needed to go back. I wish he could trust that I won’t let my other job hurt our little girl. In time I hope he’ll see I made the right decision.
Taylor closed the journal and returned it to the drawer, then brushed the tears from her cheeks. As much as it hurt to know she would never feel her arms around her mother’s neck again, she drew comfort from Mom’s words of love and knew she would treasure every page. Theirs had been a special relationship that would remain in her heart forever.
She closed her eyes and let the exhaustion of the day begin to claim her, making one last mental note. Someday she would have to assure Dad that Mom’s working had never hurt anything.
As she fell asleep, she wondered why he ever thought it would.
Ryder and Shane loaded the last box into the back of Shane’s Explorer, and Taylor squeezed into a space behind Ryder’s seat that had been left for her. Josh had gone home with Max earlier in the afternoon, a fact that had excited him and unnerved Taylor.
The men in the front talked shop and tried to include her from time to time, but Taylor was glad for some time to gather her wits. Now that the move was actually taking place, she had second thoughts. She reminded herself that she would have private quarters, that she would still have other patients at the clinic, that many others would be around. Yet in the end, all her thoughts were on Josh and the many hours they would spend alone. And the same old questions haunted her.
How much did she care?
How much did she dare?
When Taylor entered the side door of the ranch, Savannah and Jenny stopped talking with Hannah, and they all stared at her in a way women look when they’ve been caught gossiping about the person who just walked in. Savannah was the first to step forward, but not before a quick wink at Jenny.
“Here, let me take one of those bags,” she said, lightening Taylor’s load. “Come on, Jen, let’s show her the lucky room.” Savannah started up the back stairs that led from the kitchen and Taylor followed, hearing Jenny right behind her.
“Lucky room?” Taylor asked.
“Did I say that?” Savannah kept moving and didn’t look back. “I meant pretty room. Actually it’s more than a room.” She stopped at the threshold and let Taylor precede her.
Stunned at what she saw, Taylor stopped and took in her new surroundings. An old four-poster bed fit snugly between a pair of cross-paned windows, covered in Priscilla-style curtains. A large archway led to a cozy sitting room, complete with a fireplace. Next to her was a private bath, the aroma of scented soaps and potpourri drawing her into the room. She set her load on the floor and pivoted toward the girls.
“It’s beautiful.” She glanced around, taking in the many antiques and oak-framed watercolors that graced the walls. “I might never want to go home.” She chuckled and looked back to the women, whom she caught smiling at each other before they walked in.
Jenny waddled to a window and gazed out. “Brings back many memories...this room.”
Savannah deposited Taylor’s bag near the closet. “We both stayed in this room when we first visited the ranch. I’m sure you’ll be quite comfortable here.”
Jenny’s gaze turned from the window to Taylor and hung there, in that disconcerting way of hers. “Well, I have to get dinner ready. The men are probably in saying hello to Josh, but they should be up soon with the rest of your things.” She left the room and Savannah moved closer, finally pulling Taylor into a quick embrace.
“Welcome to Joeville, Taylor.” She stepped back and cupped Taylor’s shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here for Josh. I’m sure he’ll test your patience, but we’re all so grateful you can help.”
She couldn’t promise anything, she wanted to say. Suddenly she felt as though the pressure of making Josh walk fell squarely on her shoulders, that the entire family expected nothing short of his full recovery.
Ryder and Shane burst through the doorway with the rest of her things and Taylor expelled the breath she’d been holding.
“I’ll do my best,” she said to Savannah.
Savannah eyed her and smiled. “I know you will.”
When Savannah peeked her head in a couple of hours later, Taylor had found places for all her belongings and was shutting the drawer on the nightstand where she’d hidden her mother’s journals beneath a scrapbook of family photos.
“Dinner’s in five minutes. Hope you’ve worked up a good appetite. Jenny’s outdone herself.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
Savannah disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived and Taylor dropped onto the side of the bed. The time to face Josh and the task ahead was about to begin. Tonight they would both rest, but tomorrow it would all start—the hard work, the hours together, the nearness of their bodies, the touching that came with the job. She’d had good-looking male patients before, yet this apprehension had never occurred. Was it because Josh was Max’s son, and that she owed her mentor so much? Was she worried about letting Max down?
Yes.
She pushed off the comforter and puffed out her cheeks.
Who was she kidding? If only it were that simple.
The scent of pot roast and cooked onions rose up to greet her as she descended into the kitchen.
Hannah stopped with her back to the door of the dining room, a tray of iced tea glasses filled to the brim. “Do ya like iced tea, girl? We got other stuff if ya prefer.”
Taylor smiled. “Iced tea’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Well come on, then. Don’t be shy. None of ‘em will bite ya.” Then she cackled. “If they do, they know I’d bite ’em back.”
Taylor laughed and followed Hannah, knowing a heart of gold beat beneath the crusty old housekeeper’s heavy chest. For a moment she forgot her anxiety.
Until she noticed the only empty seat at the long table.
Next to Josh.
And then the Ferris wheel in her stomach started again.
Everyone greeted her as she entered, giving her far too much attention and making it difficult for her to hold eye contact with anyone, until her gaze fell on ten-year-old Billy, his smile so wide that she couldn’t help but smile back.
“I think it’s way cool you’re gonna stay here, Taylor.”
She took her seat, avoiding Josh and keeping her focus on Billy, which for the moment felt safer. “Thank you, Billy.” He beamed back at her and she knew she had discovered the biggest lady-killer of all the Malones.
Max turned to Hannah as she was about to leave the room. “Won’t you join us tonight?”
Hannah waved a chafed hand. “Nah. I gotta plate fixed by the window in the kitchen...where I can watch all my critters. Besides, I’m all tuckered out. Be callin’ it an early night soon as I get my fill.”
When she’d left, Max looked back at little Billy. “Since you’re in such a talkative mood, young man, why don’t you lead us in grace tonight?”
His eyes rounded with panic. “Me?”
“Weren’t you telling me you learned a new way to pray at Sunday school this week?”
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