01_Gift from the Heart (14 page)

As soon as Adam had Nicole settled in her room, he headed to the garage. He took the steps two at a time, then rapped sharply on the door. As he waited for Clare to answer, he tried to think of an excuse that he would consider acceptable. He couldn’t come up with one, short of a death in the family.

He prayed that wasn’t the reason.

But he knew that anything less would represent a betrayal of the trust he’d placed in her when he’d given her responsibility for the care of his daughter.

It was a no-win situation.

Someone was using a jackhammer in the next room.

Clare struggled to raise her heavy eyelids. No, it was the door, she realized. Someone was knocking on her door. Though pounding might be a better description, she thought with a groan, when the noise intensified. And it didn’t sound as if they had any intention of going away.

With a supreme effort, she swung her feet to the floor and stood dizzily. Holding on to furniture for support, she made her way unsteadily to the door, where it took several fumbling tries before she managed to slide the lock back and pull it open.

Clare stared at Adam on the other side. At least she thought it was Adam. But she’d never seen that look on his face before. His eyes were cold and angry, and his mouth looked hard and tense. She tried to think clearly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

His eyes blazed. “Yes, something is wrong. Where have you been?”

“Here.”

“You never left the apartment today?”

“No. I’ve been sleeping.”

His frown deepened and his eyes grew even colder. “So there was no emergency?”

She stared at him blankly. “What?”

She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. “Okay, look. I don’t have time to discuss this now. But there’s been a car accident. Nicole has a concussion. I brought her home from the hospital and I need to sit with her. We’ll talk about this later.”

He turned to go, and Clare clutched his sleeve, her eyes wide with shock. “Is she okay?”

Adam looked back at her. “No thanks to you,” he said tersely. “She could have been killed. You said you were going to drive her, Clare. I counted on you. I didn’t expect you to abdicate your responsibility and palm her off on Jennifer’s mother.”

Clare felt as if she’d been slapped. She recoiled slightly, her shoulders slumping as her eyes filled with tears. “Adam, I…I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Please…let me sit with her.”

“I can take care of my own daughter,” he said stiffly, his eyes like ice.

And with that he turned away and disappeared down the steps.

Slowly Clare closed the door, numb with shock. Tremors ran through her body, and she wasn’t sure her wobbly legs would support her as she haltingly retraced her steps. But she didn’t crawl back into bed. Instead, she opened her closet and reached for a small box on the shelf. She set it on the bed and, with shaky fingers, gently lifted the lid.

The photo she wanted was right on top, and for a moment she simply stared at it, tracing the edge of the frame with her finger. Dennis and David smiled back at her from the frozen moment in time, so achingly familiar, so much a part of her, so alive—and yet gone forever. She’d snapped the photo a couple of weeks before the accident that had cut their lives far too short.

The accident she’d caused.

Just like today.

As she lifted the photo, Clare’s legs suddenly gave way and she sank to the floor. She put the photo against her chest and huddled into it, wrapping her arms around her body. She’d been here before. Felt the same crushing guilt. Over the past few months she thought she’d begun to deal with that burden, to gradually let it go. But now it came back, as sharp and intense and painful as ever. Thank God this ending had been different! But she could claim no credit for that. Once again, she’d shirked her duty and disaster had followed. Would she never learn?

For two long years, Clare had held her tears in check. But now they refused to be contained. For several moments they ran down her cheeks silently, and then a sob rose in her throat. And another. And still another. Until finally her body was wracked by them. Deep sobs filled with pain and regret and sorrow.

Clare had often felt alone since the accident. There had been times when the loneliness tunneled to the very depths of her soul, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. She didn’t want to go there again, she thought in anguish.
Couldn’t
go there again. Not if she wanted to survive.

Clare closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees. She desperately needed compassion. And kindness. And understanding. Thanks to Reverend Nichols, she’d found her way back to the ultimate source of all of those things. The One who didn’t need words. Who could read what was in her heart and know what was needed.

And so Clare didn’t even try to articulate the complexity of her emotions, the intensity of her distress, the depth of her despair. She just sent a simple, heartfelt plea.

Lord, I need You! Please help me!

With an effort, Adam forced his face to relax before he stepped into Nicole’s room. But it wasn’t easy. He was more angry than he’d ever been in his life. Clare had offered no explanation, no excuse for shirking her duty. He had trusted her with his most precious gift—his daughter—and she’d betrayed that trust. He found that hard to forgive.

Nicole looked at him when he entered the room. She was still far too pale, and the bump was now a garish purple, but the terror had faded from her eyes. He sat down on the bed and took her hand.

“How are you, sweetie?”

“My head hurts.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pen-light. “I’m not surprised. You might have a headache for a few days. Let’s have a look at those pupils.” He flashed the light in each eye, getting the response he hoped for. “Looking good. You just need to rest. I’ll be close by.”

She snuggled deeper into the bed and let her eyelids drift closed. But she opened them as he started to rise. “Dad? How’s Clare?”

He looked down at her with a frown, wondering if her thinking was still a little muddled. “She wasn’t in the accident, sweetie.”

Nicole gave him an exasperated look. “I know that. She stayed here because she was sick. That’s why Mrs. Foster took me. Is she okay?”

The twin furrows on Adam’s brow deepened. Clare had finished her stint as a temporary receptionist the prior week, and he’d hardly seen her the past few days as he struggled to deal with an unusual spring outbreak of the flu. He tried to replay the encounter he’d just had with her, but he’d been so upset and angry that his powers of observation hadn’t exactly been at their peak. Now that he thought about it, though, she had looked a little flushed. And her eyes…hadn’t they seemed a bit dull and slightly unfocused?

“Dad?”

Nicole’s voice brought him back to the present, and he reached down to give her hand a squeeze. “I’m going to run over there right now and check on her. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

As Adam strode back toward the garage, a queasy feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach—along with a growing certainty that he’d been way out of line, that he’d jumped to conclusions and wrongly berated Clare. After all these months, didn’t he know her well enough to know that she’d never do anything to endanger Nicole? How could he have been so stupid? Even though he’d been upset about the accident and his nerves had been stretched to the breaking point, that didn’t give him the right to take out his stress on the woman who had given him back his daughter in the first place.

Adam took the stairs two at a time, lifted his hand to knock—and froze. The muffled sound of raw, heartbreaking sobs came through the door, and he closed his eyes, feeling as if someone had kicked him in the gut.
God forgive me,
he prayed, his hands balling into fists.

Adam didn’t even knock. He tried the door, found it open, and stepped into the dimness. The sound of Clare’s anguished sobs led him to the bedroom, his stomach clenching more tightly with every step. And the sight of her huddled miserably on the floor, her head bent, her slight shoulders heaving, made him feel physically sick.

He went down on one knee beside her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Clare?”

She raised dull, bleary eyes to him, but it seemed to take a moment for his presence to register. She was clutching a picture frame to her chest. “I—I’m so s-sorry, Adam,” she said hoarsely, repeating her earlier apology.

His drew a ragged breath. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” Then he reached for her and gathered her slender, shaking body into his arms.

Adam felt her misery at the deepest level of his soul, and the incoherent snatches of phrases that were interspersed with her sobs tore at his heart.

“My fault… Selfish… My responsibility…Accident…no…! Not gone…! Nicole, please… So alone…”

“Shh, it’s okay, Clare. It’s okay.” He stroked her back gently and pulled her closer, his chin dropping to graze her forehead. But when his skin made contact with hers he quickly backed off in alarm and stared down at her. She was burning up! Her face was flushed, and not just from crying. He placed a cool palm against her fiery forehead and tried not to panic as he reached for her wrist to check her pulse. She had been trembling before, from emotion, but suddenly her whole body began to shake with bone-jarring chills.

“Clare.” When she didn’t respond, he tried again, more insistently. “Clare!”

She lifted her head and tried to focus on him.

“Clare, how long have you been sick?” he asked, speaking slowly.

“Since l-last night,” she whispered hoarsely, her teeth chattering.

“Have you been throwing up?”

He wasn’t surprised when she nodded. He’d treated enough cases to recognize the symptoms and instantly diagnose the problem. But this was one of the worst cases of flu he’d seen. She needed immediate—and constant—attention. And so did Nicole. Which meant there was only one solution.

“Clare, you have the flu,” he said. “Since I have to care for both you and Nicole, I want you to come over to the house, okay?”

He wasn’t quite sure she understood, but she nodded.

He reached over and pried her hands from the frame, glancing at the photo as he stood. And once more, he felt as if someone had delivered a punch to his stomach. The two smiling male faces in the photo had to be Clare’s husband and son. The ones who’d been killed in a car accident. Just as Nicole almost had been today. He could only imagine the nightmare memories, and the pain, that today’s scenario had evoked for the woman who now sat slumped at his feet. And his insensitive behavior had only made things worse.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
God forgive me,
he prayed again.
And please console Clare.

Adam gently set the photo on the chest of drawers, then reached down and drew Clare to her feet in one smooth, easy motion. She wavered and gripped his arm, closing her eyes.

“I—I think I’m going t-to throw up again,” she said faintly.

With Adam half carrying her, they made it to the bathroom just in time for her to be violently sick. When the retching finally stopped, she was so spent that she couldn’t even stand without his support.

“I—I feel like I’m dying,” she whispered miserably.

“Not if I can help it.”

Adam guided her out of the bathroom, but when she stumbled he reached down and swept her up, cradling her against his broad chest. She was too weak to do more than lie passively in his arms.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” she whispered, her eyes huge in her pale face. Tears pooled in the corners of their blue depths, then spilled onto her cheeks. “It’s all my fault.”

Adam didn’t know whether she was talking about the accident or about being sick. But it didn’t matter. Neither was her fault—despite the blame he’d harshly laid on her during his first visit.

As he made his way carefully down the narrow staircase, Adam recalled that he’d asked God earlier to forgive him.

But as he looked down at the devastated face of the woman in his arms, he wasn’t sure Clare ever would.

T
he next twenty-four hours were a blur for Clare. She was alternately burning hot or freezing cold. Every muscle in her body ached. Her restless sleep was filled with heart-pounding nightmares that woke her abruptly, shaking and gasping for breath. And every once in a while something unpleasantly cold was insistently pressed to her chest.

But if she was aware of the bad, she was also cognizant of the good. The cool cloths on her forehead. The strong arm supporting her shoulders while she greedily drank great quantities of water. The gentle fingers massaging her aching muscles. And the soothing voice that always seemed to be there when she awoke from her bad dreams, reassuring and comforting her.

Clare lost all track of time. But when her eyelids flickered open after one of her frequent naps, she somehow knew she had turned a corner. Though she felt limp as a rag doll, her muscles no longer ached with such fierce intensity. Nor did she feel too hot or too cold. Just drained. And absolutely exhausted.

Clare turned her head toward the window, a simple action that seemed to require an extraordinary amount of energy. The shade was drawn, but faint light showed around the edges. Which meant it was either morning or evening. But she had no idea what day it was.

A movement on the other side of the room caught her eye, and she summoned up the energy to turn her head back in that direction. Nicole had cracked the door and was peeking in.

Clare managed a weak smile. And an even weaker greeting.

Instead of responding, Nicole turned and called out excitedly. “Dad! She’s awake!”

A moment later Clare heard rapid footsteps on the stairs, and then Adam appeared in the doorway. “Wait out here,” he instructed Nicole as he strode into the room. “I don’t want to have to put you back on the patient list.” He sat on the edge of the bed, then looked at Clare assessingly. Her eyes were clearer and more focused, and when he laid a hand on her forehead it was blessedly cooler.

As he reached for the stethoscope around his neck, Clare spoke. “You should warm that thing up before you use it. It’s a form of torture.”

Her voice was scratchy and almost unrecognizable, but he caught the faint teasing tone. For the first time in more than twenty-four hours, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease. “Welcome back,” he said quietly. Following her advice, he warmed the stethoscope between his palms for a moment, then leaned over and slipped it inside the V-neck of her sweatshirt. “Just breathe when I tell you,” he instructed.

While Clare followed his instructions, she assessed Adam. He looked as if he’d aged ten years, she realized with a pang. Twin furrows were etched deeply in his brow, and there were lines of tension and strain around his mouth and eyes. He looked utterly weary…and utterly wonderful, she thought, her throat contracting with emotion.

As he withdrew the stethoscope and looped it around his neck, fragments of the past twenty-four hours began to fall into place for Clare. “Adam…the accident… Is Nicole okay?”

He nodded. “The only remnants are a nasty bump on the head and some bruises.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should have…”

Adam silenced her by pressing a gentle finger to her lips. “This was not your fault, Clare,” he said firmly. “If anyone should apologize, it’s me. But you’re in no condition right now to even think about everything that happened. You need to focus on getting well.”

“What day is it?”

“Saturday night.”

“And the accident was…”

“Yesterday, late afternoon. Now, I’m going to heat some soup and try to get something a little more solid into you. Do you need anything first?”

She blushed. “I…uh…need to go to the bathroom.”

He nodded. “Good. Up till now, your body has been burning off the liquid almost as fast I could get it into you. If your fever hadn’t dropped within the next couple of hours, I would have had to hospitalize you and get you hooked up to an IV.”

She made a face. “Hospitals aren’t my favorite place. No slight intended to your profession.”

He smiled. “They’re not my favorite place, either. I do everything I can to keep people out of them.”

He rose and drew back the covers, then reached down to help her sit up. “Take it slow and easy. Just let your feet dangle over the side of the bed for a minute before you try to stand.”

Clare did as he advised, almost frightened by her extreme weakness. “Wow!” she breathed softly. “This is weird. I feel like every ounce of my energy has been drained off and my muscles have gone on strike.”

“A bad case of the flu will do that to you.”

“But I never get sick! And I’ve never had the flu.”

“You’ve never worked in a doctor’s office before—especially one overflowing with flu patients. Trust me, you just made up for all the years you escaped,” he told her, and though his voice was light she heard the serious undertones. And knew she had been a lot sicker than she could even imagine.

“Ready?” he asked. At her uncertain nod, he reached down and eased her to her feet. She grasped his arm tightly, then clung to him as he guided her slowly down the hall and into the guest bath. “Can you manage on your own?” he asked, giving her a worried look.

She nodded, not at all sure she could but equally sure there was no acceptable alternative.

“Okay, I’ll wait out here.”

By the time she opened the door a couple of minutes later, she had to hold on to it for support. Her legs had grown wobbly, and her hands were shaking. “You’d think I’d just run a marathon or something,” she tried to joke, but she was too weary even to smile.

Without giving her time to protest, Adam reached down and tucked a hand under her knees, then swept her into his arms. He grinned at her as he started back down the hall. “I want you to know that I don’t give this kind of service to all my patients,” he teased.

As Clare looked up at him, she was overcome by his kindness and tender care, and she felt tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. She tried to avert her face, embarrassed at her uncharacteristic loss of control, hoping Adam wouldn’t notice.

When he reached the bed, he gently laid her down and tucked the covers around her. Then he sat beside her and tenderly traced the line of one tear down her cheek, dashing her hopes that she had successfully hidden them.

“It’s okay to cry after all you’ve been through, Clare,” he said softly. “When you’re stronger, we’ll talk. Right now, you just need to rest. Physically and mentally.” He rose. “I’ll get that soup.”

As Adam disappeared out the door, Clare thought about his advice. She could easily comply with the instruction to get physical rest. She really didn’t have much choice.

But she wasn’t so sure about the mental part.

Because the feelings and emotions Nicole’s accident had awakened were far too powerful to ignore. Even though she’d managed to suppress them for nearly three long years, she sensed that this time she’d have to deal with them.

Once and for all.

Clare’s recovery took far longer than she expected. For the first few days she could hardly drag herself to and from the bathroom. By the end of the week she felt strong enough to get dressed, but even the smallest chores tired her out. Adele had been a huge help, bless her heart. She’d dropped off several home-cooked meals and had come to stay with Clare the first couple of days when Adam had to go back to work. Nicole had been equally attentive. All in all, Clare couldn’t have asked for better care.

But even though everyone kept a close eye on her, she still had plenty of time alone, with nothing to do but pray. And think. About mistakes and guilt and grief. About how dramatically her life had changed nearly three years ago. And about how dramatically Adam’s might have changed just a few days ago. Thanks to her.

Intellectually, Clare knew that the circumstances of this accident were different than the one that took the life of her husband and child. Her abdication of responsibility this time hadn’t been brought about by selfishness, but by sickness. Yet the outcome could very well have been the same. And how could she have lived with that? How could she live with it even now, knowing what might have happened?

“I’m on my way to the hospital, but I called and found out the Bluebird has meat loaf today. How does that sound for dinner?”

Clare turned toward Adam as he joined her on the porch. He’d run himself ragged looking after her in addition to taking care of Nicole and keeping up with the demands of his practice. And it showed in his face. He looked worn out. Luckily it was Saturday and he’d have a chance to rest a little.

“Why don’t I make something tonight?”

“Not yet.”

“Adam, I’m not an invalid.”

“Not yet,” he repeated firmly. “Doctor’s orders.”

She sighed and let her head drop back against the wicker chair. “You’re spoiling me.”

When he didn’t respond, she turned her head, and the expression in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.

“Impossible,” he said quietly.

She forced herself to look back at the mountains as her heart filled with tenderness for this special man. A man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. A man she hoped felt the same way about her.

But first she needed to take care of some unfinished business. Because until she dealt with the debilitating grief and guilt locked inside, until she released them from her heart, there was no way for love to get in. And she wanted to let love in. She wanted to let Adam in.

She took a deep breath. “Adam…I need to go back to Kansas City.”

When he didn’t respond, she turned to look at him again. His eyes were guarded—but she saw fear lurking in their depths.

“I thought you were staying for three more weeks,” he said carefully.

She gave him a startled look, realizing he’d misunderstood her intent. “I am!” she reassured him quickly. “I just have to…take care of some business.”

“Then…you’re coming back?”

“Of course.” She saw the tension ease in his shoulders. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to imply I was leaving for good.”

He smiled, but it was clearly forced. “Good. I was afraid that maybe the medical care wasn’t quite up to par.”

“No one has ever taken such good care of me,” she told him quietly.

After a long moment, Adam broke eye contact and glanced down at his watch. “I need to get rolling. As soon as I do rounds, I’ll be back. Nicole is going to a barbecue, so I thought maybe you and I could eat out here. The weather’s been great, and you can’t beat the view!”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Nicole is upstairs if you need her.”

“I know. I’ll be fine.” When he hesitated, she smiled. “Really, Adam. I’ll be fine. I’m feeling stronger every day.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. But don’t get too ambitious. You’re not back to full speed yet. When were you thinking of going back to Kansas City?”

“Next weekend.”

He frowned. “That’s a long trip.”

“I’ll take it slowly.”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure you should go by yourself. Would you…like me to come with you?”

She looked at him in surprise, touched by his unexpected offer, but shook her head. “No. This is something I need to do alone. It will only take a couple of days. But thank you, Adam.”

With a nod, he reentered the house to prepare for his hospital visit. But his mind wasn’t on his patients. It was on Clare and her upcoming trip. She’d assured him that it would be a quick visit, and he believed her. But it reminded him that time was running out on the nanny assignment. In three short weeks Clare would be gone. Permanently.

Unless he gave her a very good reason to stay.

“I moved back into my apartment today.”

Adam looked across the wicker table at Clare. He couldn’t really argue about her decision. She was perfectly capable now of taking care of herself. But he would miss having her living under his roof. “I suppose it was time,” he concurred.

“More than time. I was way too lazy way too long.”

“You were very sick, Clare.”

She toyed with her garlic mashed potatoes. “But I’m fine now.”

He glanced down at her half-eaten dinner. “Your appetite still isn’t back to normal.”

“It’s coming along.”

“You can’t afford to lose any more weight.”

She couldn’t deny that her clothes were starting to hang on her. “I’ll gain it back.”

Adam laid his fork down. “Clare, I’m still worried about you making this trip to Kansas City. I’m not sure you’re strong enough.”

“I will be by next weekend.”

He expelled a frustrated sigh. “Is this something you have to do now? Can’t it wait a little longer?”

She shook her head. “I need to go at that particular time, Adam.”

The resolute look in her eyes told Adam that she wasn’t going to be dissuaded. So he didn’t argue. Besides, he had an even touchier subject to discuss with her. He reached for his iced tea and took a sip, trying to figure out how to begin. Clare didn’t seem to harbor any ill will toward him since his insensitive treatment of her the day of Nicole’s accident, but he’d learned enough since then to know that she should. As he’d held her, comforted her through countless fever-induced nightmares, he’d been able to piece together some details about the accident that had killed her husband and son. Enough to know that Clare blamed herself for their deaths. That she felt she’d reneged on her obligations and let them down.

Exactly the things he’d accused her of with Nicole.

None of which were true.

Just as he was sure they weren’t true with her own family. And he needed to convince her of that, to relieve her of the torment that she still carried in her heart over that accident. He had felt her deep-seated pain, and though she’d hidden it well before her illness—as she was hiding it well now—he knew it was still there. He wanted to release her from that suffering and help her heart heal, just as he’d helped her body heal.

“Clare, does your trip have anything to do with Dennis and David?” he asked carefully.

After a moment of silence, she nodded. “Yes.”

He set his iced tea down and leaned over to capture her delicate hand in his. “Tell me about it, Clare.”