Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero (10 page)

“Now, Miss Morgan, the million-dollar question is—” the emcee paused for a few seconds, shuffling the index cards in his hands before selecting one and reading “—why were you allowed to live while everyone else was killed? You have one minute to come up with an answer.”

The loud ticking of the clock started counting down her seconds.

Frantically Tess searched her thoughts for a reason, but all she could focus on was the ticktock of the clock reverberating through her mind. Why? Why me?

The buzzer blared. The audience quieted, waiting to hear her reply. She scanned their faces, desperately wishing the answer was written on them. Their features dissolved into blank masks.

“I don’t know,” she finally said to the emcee.

He thrust his face into hers and shouted, “Why don’t you know? Why were you saved and not the others?”

The audience took up the chant. Why? Why?

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Tess bolted up in her sleeping bag, breathing shallow gasps of air, sweat pouring off her as though she had been standing under the glare of harsh lights. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Distraught, she looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Reality crept in. Tess stared at Mary sleeping next to her, the soft sound of her breathing suddenly reminding her of the ticktock of the clock in her dream.

Tess dropped her head, burying her face in her shaking hands while drawing in deep breaths to calm herself. She felt as if the tent walls enclosed her in a trap. Shoving back the sleeping bag, she grabbed a blanket and scrambled outside, not wanting to awaken Mary.

She inhaled deep, cleansing breaths, saturated with the scent of the mountain. Her heartbeat slowed to a decent pace as she walked to the log and sat. She wrapped the blanket around her, then rested her elbows on her knees, her chin cupped in her hands. In the moonlight that filtered through the trees she stared at the black pit where the fire had been and tried to find some kind of peace. It eluded her as though she tried to hold a snowflake in her palm.

“Can’t sleep, either?”

She had been so deep in thought she hadn’t heard Mac approach until he sat down beside her on the log, clicking off the flashlight he carried. Blackness surrounded them, giving the fantasy that they were alone in the middle of nowhere.

“Bad dream,” she answered before she realized what she’d said.

“Want to tell me about it?” He lit a lantern, throwing a circle of light about them and shattering the illusion of isolation.

No—yes. She slanted a look at his profile, his gaze trained straight ahead. The glow from the lantern softened his features, coaxing her to tell him about the nightmare—about South America and Kevin. “For the past two years I’ve been running away and I’ve just come to the conclusion you can’t, not from yourself. You’re right. There’s a time when everything catches up with you.”

“Tell me about the dream.”

“I’m a game show contestant and the emcee asks me the final question and I can’t answer it.”

“What’s the question?”

The gentleness in his voice soothed her. She could do this. She looked sideways at him. “Why were you allowed to live while everyone else was killed?”

The question hung in the air between them for a few seconds. Then she heard Mac suck in a sharp breath, his gaze zeroing in on hers. “What happened, Tess?”

“I was a nurse at a mission in the Andes. My fiancé and I had decided to serve two years overseas before we married and started a family. Kevin had just finished his residency in family practice. We had been there for a year when a band of guerrillas came into the village. They killed everyone but me. They left me for dead, but I survived the gunshot wound.” Her voice caught. She swallowed hard and continued in a tone that mirrored the trembling in her body. “I watched Kevin die, and there was nothing I could do to help him or anyone else in the village. The only way I made it was by pretending I was dead, too. Thankfully they didn’t check.”

Mac grasped her hand in his, the warmth of his touch a balm to her tattered nerves. “I’m so sorry, Tess. No one should have to go through something like that.”

His comforting words reached out and caressed the pain in her heart. “When they left, I tried to help Kevin. I was too late. He died in my arms. After that, I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed in the capital.”

His grip tightened. “Is that why you’ve turned away from God?”

She twisted, staring at him through glistening eyes. “Don’t you understand? Kevin was a good man. A good Christian who only wanted to serve the Lord and help people through his medicine. He had so much to give in the name of the Lord. More than me. Why did he die and I live?” One tear slipped down her cheek and fell onto their clasped hands.

“Sometimes God has plans for people that aren’t what we think they should be. We have to have faith He knows what is best in the long run. Kevin is with God now. The Lord has something else in mind for you.”

Tess squeezed her eyes closed for a long moment, wanting to shut the world out. “When I went to his funeral, his mother couldn’t understand why I was alive and her son was dead. She fell apart in church. I barely managed to get through the service.” Recalling that awful scene, she shuddered.

“You have much to give to others.”

“But I don’t save lives like Kevin did.”

“There are ways to save a person that have nothing to do with medicine. Look how you took Johnny under your wing. If it hadn’t been for you, Johnny wouldn’t be living with Amy and me right now. The Lord hasn’t given up on you. Don’t give up on Him.”

Still Tess could remember begging God to save Kevin or to take her instead. The memory haunted her. “I wish it were that simple.”

“But it is.”

The one thing that had nagged at her came to the foreground. “Kevin was a better Christian than me. He was much more devoted than me. So why did God take him and not me?”

“It’s okay that you survived. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“You need to take a good hard look at the people you influence. Besides Johnny, Amy adores you, and I care about you very much. Then how about all the children you entertain with your clown therapy or help while they’re in the hospital.”

She pulled her hands from his grasp and rose, restless, as though her nerves were stretched beyond their limit and would break any second. “I might as well tell you everything.” She let out a long breath. “Kevin was in the village that day because I talked him out of going to the capital until the following day. I thought it was going to rain and I didn’t want us to get stuck traveling on the trail in a downpour.” She whirled to face Mac. “He would be alive today if it wasn’t for me.”

Mac flinched as though she had hit him. In the dim light she could see his features pale. Now he knew the full extent of her responsibility in Kevin’s death.

“So you see, Mac, there isn’t much you can say to make me feel any less guilty. A good man died because of me.”

Mac shot to his feet and gripped her upper arms. “Don’t say that.
You
had nothing to do with it. You didn’t pull the trigger. You can’t foresee the future. You made a judgment call on the facts as you knew them. You are not to blame for his death.”

She wrenched herself free, stepping away from him. “I saw how you looked at me when I told you.”

“You saw my anguish over my wife’s death in my face. Your words were so similar to what I felt right after Sheila died.”

“What do you mean? Your wife died in childbirth.”

“She didn’t want to have a family. I’m the one who wanted to start having children and talked her into it. She would be alive today if I hadn’t. So you see, you aren’t the only one with guilt over another’s death.”

“Is that why you don’t want any more children?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Dying in childbirth isn’t common.”

“I won’t be responsible for putting another woman in danger if I have anything to do with it. I can’t risk that kind of loss ever again.”

His confession stunned her. Words failed her. She clenched then flexed her hands. Slowly she curled her fingers into fists, her nails digging into her palms. So much pain. So much guilt—on both their parts. How would they begin to heal? To forgive themselves? Tess wondered.

“When Sheila died, I don’t know what I would have done if it weren’t for my faith in the Lord. The first time I held Amy I felt so lost. God gave me the strength to live each day. He can do the same for you, Tess.”

She wanted to believe Mac, but she could remember her pleas that went unanswered in that mountain village. “What happened to me isn’t the same as what happened to you.”

“You’re right. I had the support and love of my family to help me. I had a little baby girl to take care of. I imagine you were all alone to deal with your grief. What I’m trying to tell you now is that you aren’t really alone. God is with us always. Let go of your guilt and embrace our Father.”

She spun away, turning her back to him, hunching her shoulders as she drew in on herself. “I wish I could.”

He laid his hand on her. “Let me help you. Come with my family to church again. Open your heart to the possibilities of the Lord.”

Placing her palm over her heart, she felt its steady beat, evidence she’d survived that day in the mountains. She knew she had to do something to change the direction of her life. She loved nursing and dressing up as a clown to entertain sick children, but she was discovering that she needed something more. It was as though she had put her life back together after South America, but there were missing pieces to the jigsaw puzzle that left gaping holes in the overall picture.

“Both Amy and Johnny would love to have you accompany us.”

Just Amy and Johnny? She wanted to ask, but bit her bottom lip to keep from saying what she really wanted to.

“Amy’s still talking about our trip out to Colt’s. And she wanted me to tell you again she was sorry about what Buttons did.”

“Next time I know not to ask to hold the puppy.”

His chuckles, close to her ear, whispered against her neck. “I never saw someone move so fast in the front seat of my car.”

Tess faced Mac. “It’s not every day I have the privilege of an animal using me like a piece of newspaper.”

“She was just overexcited to see you.”

“That kind of excitement I can do without. But tell Amy again for me that it wasn’t her fault.”

“Come to dinner next week and tell her yourself. I know they would love to show you the rabbits and how much the puppies have grown.”

“Okay,” she said, aware she was committing herself to more than dinner. She was risking her heart again. She knew she couldn’t resist the lure of Mac and his family.

T
ess checked the address again, making sure she was on the right street. The houses needed fresh paint. One had a broken window patched with boards. Another had foot-tall weeds growing in its small front yard, which was littered with rusted car parts.

Tess spied Mac standing on the porch of a large two-story house on the corner. Painted recently, the halfway house had a new roof. The lawn was mowed, and the hedge in front was trimmed neatly. She slowed to a stop at the curb, craning her neck to stare at the shingled roof from which Mac had fallen and broken his leg. She shuddered at the long fall and thought how lucky he was that his leg was the only thing he’d broken that day. She climbed from her car, locked it then headed up the sidewalk. Mac descended the steps and met her at the bottom.

“I wish you’d let me pick you up. This neighborhood isn’t the best.” Mac casually placed his hand at the small of her back.

“After what I’ve seen and lived through, this place is a piece of cake.”

He grimaced. “That still doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned for your safety.”

“I could say the same thing to you.”

“Ah, a feminist.”

She stopped at the front door and looked deep into his eyes. “No, a bullet will tear through your flesh as easily as mine. It doesn’t know if you’re male or female.”

“Then I guess we will worry about each other.”

“That’s what friends do.”

“Yes, friends,” he murmured and pulled the door open to allow her to enter.

“I’m not surprised at the location of the halfway house. Have any of your neighbors complained?”

“A few. But there have been no problems in the two years we have been here, and the complaints have died down.”

Some of the tension siphoned from Tess at that news. Part of the reason she’d decided to volunteer at the halfway house was that she wanted to see for herself what Mac did that was so important to him. The other reason was to check out the place. She could no longer deny that Mac was special to her. She needed to assess how safe he was. He came here almost every day. She cared about him and didn’t want to lose him—as a friend, she added quickly, the hollowness of the declaration ringing through her mind.

“I think our good neighbors have learned to ignore us, and that makes it easier. One less problem to deal with.” Mac motioned toward the living area. “Let me give you a quick tour.”

Tess scanned the room. There were two comfortable, worn-looking couches and three overstuffed easy chairs, all surrounding a television set. Several end tables held lamps and coasters, and one had a stack of magazines. In the center of the coffee table, in front of one of the navy blue sofas, was a large Bible. Near the picture window that faced the street was a schefflera, a good six feet tall. One man sat in a chair watching CNN and chewing gum while another had propped his feet on the scarred coffee table with his head resting on the cushion, his eyes closed.

“Fred, anything happening in the world?” Mac asked the man in the chair.

“Nope. Not a thing,” Fred answered between smacks of his gum.

“Well, I guess that’s a good thing.”

“No news is good news.” The man cracked a smile, revealing one of his front teeth was missing.

“Is Harry asleep?”

“Guess so. He hasn’t stirred since I’ve been here.”

Mac frowned but didn’t say anything. He signaled for Tess to follow him into the dining room, then the kitchen.

Once the door shut behind her, Tess asked, “Is everything all right with Harry?”

“He’s new to the house. Came at the end of last week. I haven’t been able to reach him like the others, but with the Lord’s help I will.” Mac passed through the kitchen, saying hello to Tom, the cook this week, and headed for the office in the back. “I counsel in here if the group is a small one or there’s only one person. Sometimes we have large groups and we meet in the game room, through there.” He pointed to a door leading from the office. “That’s where you’ll see anyone who has a medical problem. If you think they need to see a doctor, let me know. I can arrange that.”

“How many men are living here?”

“Fifteen. We’re almost to capacity.”

“Do they stay long?”

“Not too long. This is a transition place for them. With luck by the time they leave here they have a job and have been off drugs or alcohol for a while.”

Tess inspected the large office with a desk in one corner and a grouping of chairs in front of book-filled shelves at the other end. This was where Mac spent a lot of his time. The room reflected his character, from a Bible on the desk to a casual lived-in look that gave off no pretensions. “Are you the only counselor?”

“No, there are three of us who work here part-time.”

“Do they all volunteer their time like you do?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Yes. The network of volunteers has grown since I’ve gotten to know some people at your hospital.”

She noticed over the weeks she’d become better acquainted with Mac that he rarely wanted to talk about the good things he did for others. That was another part of his character she liked. He quietly went through life trying to right wrongs in the name of the Lord.

“Ready to get started?”

With a nod she walked toward the door Mac had indicated. “After I see everyone, what else would you like me to do?”

Mac smiled. “I imagine that will take most of the afternoon.”

Tess had her doubts, since there weren’t that many people in the house at the moment. Except for the television the place was quiet. She didn’t hear any footsteps from the floor above. But according to Mac, they had a nurse conduct a clinic once a week, so he must know what he was talking about.

Several hours later Tess realized it wasn’t just the men in the house who came to the clinic, but people who lived in the neighborhood. She saw several women and children with symptoms ranging from a cough to what she suspected was a broken arm. She set up that woman with an appointment to get her arm x-rayed immediately.

Mac stuck his head in the doorway and asked, “How’s it going?”

“So this place serves as a free clinic to the area?”

“That’s one of the reasons the neighbors don’t complain much any more. Some of these people never get any medical attention except what we have here. Once a month a doctor comes to the clinic. Otherwise it’s a nurse. They don’t much care. It’s more than they had before we set up shop.”

“Your foundation funds all this?”

“This is one of my projects.”

Tess saw Tom standing in the entrance with his head bowed. “Can I help you?”

The man looked up hesitantly. “I burned my hand a few days ago. I just wanted you to check it.”

“Sure.” Tess sent Tom a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of his shyness.

Slowly he shuffled across the game room and sat in the chair in front of Tess. She waited for him to show her his hand. Hesitantly Tom raised his arm, his eyes downcast. She unwrapped the food-stained bandage, revealing a red and ugly-looking second-degree burn.

“This must have hurt bad.”

“Still does, ma’am.”

“Well, let me see what I can do to help you.”

“I sure would appreciate anything you can do. I can’t hold no knife in this hand, and I ain’t too good with my left hand.”

“Knife?”

“To cut up the vegetables for dinner, ma’am.”

“Of course.” Tess felt Mac’s gaze on her as she worked to clean the burn and wrap it in a fresh bandage. She tingled from the touch of his eyes.

When she was through with Tom and he had left, she rose and stretched her cramped muscles, aware that Mac was still in the doorway to his office watching her. “I’ve enjoyed this. I don’t know if I can volunteer every week because of my schedule at the hospital, but I would like to help out more.”

Mac crossed the room. “That would be great. This place depends on its volunteers. I hope one day to expand services to the neighborhood. I’d like to have a doctor here more often and nurses here more than once a week.” He stopped next to her. “You’re very good with the patients, young and old. I like watching you work.”

His praise wiped all thoughts from her mind. She felt the color in her cheeks flare at the same time a pleased feeling encased her in warmth. He reached toward her.

Shouts erupted from the living room. Without a second’s hesitation, Mac spun and raced toward the yelling. Tess hastened after him, the loud voices suddenly too quiet. When she entered, she stopped inside the doorway, her gaze riveted to Harry, who stood over Fred in the chair. Anger marred the lines of Harry’s face. His hands were fisted at his sides, his body conveying such rage that he appeared brittle, ready to break in two.

Mac moved close to the pair. “Harry, can I help you? Is something wrong?” His voice was soft, even.

His jaw clamped shut, Harry swung his gaze to Mac, a few feet from him. “He turned the station.”

Fred, whose features were pale, spoke. “I thought he was asleep. I was tired of the news.”

Harry glared at Fred. “Well, I wasn’t asleep and I was listening to the news. Turn it back.”

“I don’t want to.” The stubborn set of his mouth attested to Fred’s mounting bravery now that others were in the room.

Harry leaned down, placing both hands on the arms of the chair and caging the other man against the back. “Turn back to CNN.”

He spat out each word slowly and with such fury that Tess stepped back. Her heart pounded against her chest. Her palms were sweaty. The air in the room churned with intense emotions as though someone had switched a blender on high.

Mac shifted forward. “Harry, I’m glad you’re up. It’s time for our counseling session. You can watch the news afterward.” Mac pitched his voice low, a calming sound, meant to subdue.

“I don’t wanna talk to you now. I want to watch the news.” Harry bent closer to Fred, their faces only inches apart.

Tess held her breath when Mac laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder. The man tried to shrug it off. When that didn’t work, he spun and faced Mac, forgetting about Fred. Fred quickly squeezed out of his seat and scrambled out of the room while Harry glared at Mac for daring to interrupt him. The sound of Fred’s fleeing footsteps on the stairs echoed in Tess’s mind, competing with the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears.

“You’ll be able to when we’re through, Harry. You accepted counseling as a condition for living here.”

Some the tension dissolved in Tess at the continual calming sound of Mac’s voice, as though this type of incident happened every day and wasn’t any big deal. She hoped Harry responded in a similar fashion. She gauged the man’s reaction to Mac’s words and saw a slight relaxing of the firm line of his jaw. Harry’s sharp gaze mellowed as he instinctively followed Mac’s example of taking deep breaths. Tess found herself doing it, too, and more of her tension eased.

Mac patiently waited for Harry to bring himself under control. Sweat beaded the man’s forehead and rolled down his face. He clenched and unclenched his hands, but finally, after a few minutes of silence, his shoulders sagged and he dropped his head.

“Come on, Harry, let’s talk about this in my office,” Mac said, moving toward the doorway. “I know things haven’t been easy for you since you came.”

Tess stepped to the side and allowed both men to leave. When the room was empty, she collapsed onto the couch, all the energy draining from her body. When she’d looked into Harry’s eyes, she’d seen hate and such anger she’d been frightened he would do something harmful to Fred—or Mac.

Thankfully Mac had deflated the man’s rage, but what would happen next time if he couldn’t? That question scared her more than the encounter she had just witnessed.

She headed to the game room, determined to stay until Mac emerged from his office safely. She glanced out the window and noticed it was getting late. She had a million things she needed to do at home, as well as errands to run, but she couldn’t leave. The sound of Harry’s raised voice sent her across the room to hover near the door in case Mac needed her. She wasn’t sure what she could do. Harry was almost as large as Mac, and she was sure Mac could take care of himself in a physical fight, but if anything happened to Mac—She wouldn’t allow herself to finish that thought.

Thirty minutes later, Mac and Harry came out of the office. Harry hurried up the stairs while Mac watched him. Then Mac turned toward her, and she saw the weariness in his features. The dullness in his eyes and the tired lines on his face underscored how emotionally drained he was after the tension-charged encounter.

Tess went to him, only wanting to comfort and offer words of encouragement. “You did a great job of defusing the situation.”

“Just part of the job.” He shrugged off the compliment.

“How often do you have to do that?”

She hoped the panic didn’t sound in her voice, but Mac looked at her sharply for a long moment before answering, “Not often, thankfully, but some of these men have a lot of emotional baggage to deal with. Until they do they often won’t succeed in overcoming their addiction.” He peered at his watch. “Why are you still here? Didn’t you tell me you had to leave by four-thirty?”

She blushed. “Would you believe I wanted to make sure nothing happened with Harry?”

“And what would you have done?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t think that far. Call 911? Rush in and stop him?”

Mac grinned. “Let’s see, you’re five feet four inches and he’s over six-two. How were you going to stop him? Jump on his back?”

“Okay. You can quit laughing. That man was very angry when you two disappeared into your office an hour ago. I wasn’t about to leave you here alone.”

“There are at least five other men here, Tess.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “But I like the idea you were going to save me. Not many women have said that to me.”

“And I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

He reached up and cupped his hand along her jawline. “You can protect me anytime you want.” He stared long and hard into her eyes. “I need to leave soon. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Are you trying to protect me now?”

“This isn’t the safest neighborhood, especially as it gets darker.”