Authors: Lorenz Font
“Who is this girl?” the woman asked. Her tone even had an expensive lilt to it.
The instant she realized who Greg’s visitors were, she jumped. Embarrassed and confused, she turned to check on Greg, wriggling out from underneath his arm. He stirred at the slight movement, and his eyes fluttered open to look up at her.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“
That’s
the one I told you about.” Greg’s father made no attempt to hide his disapproval. “The prairie nigger.”
Sarah heard it and so did Greg. They both stiffened, and in one quick movement, Greg’s arms circled her waist and drew her closer to him. He kissed her on the forehead before turning his attention to his parents.
“As much as I appreciate this visit, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.” Greg’s tone expressed clear disdain at his father’s treatment of Sarah.
He shifted his position and cursed. At his painful shudder, Sarah scrambled off the bed. Instead of pressing the call button, she moved to go to the door, planning to leave without a word. As much as she hated to abandon Greg, the last thing she needed was to be the target of another racial slur. She refused to be caught in the head-on collision that was waiting to happen.
“I’ll get your nurse to give you a pain pill.”
She turned to go, but Greg’s voice stopped her. “Please, stay here with me.”
Sarah hesitated. She was dying to get away from the ignorant and hurtful words Greg Jr. would fling at her. This was not the place for her. The animosity between father and son was obvious, and she’d hate to be in the room when one of them exploded.
Chelsea rushed forward to fuss over Greg, but his father held her back.
“Leave him be. He’s been looking for trouble all his life. I’m beginning to think he deserves everything coming his way.”
She hesitated, her face crumpling.
Greg motioned to the door. “I don’t care what you think. Just go.”
Greg Jr.’s expression hardened. “Don’t make a habit of throwing people out.”
“Then don’t make a habit of insulting Sarah. You know damn well I won’t hesitate to throw you out again.” Greg’s voice rose. With one careless sweep, he went to hoist up his body, but his fresh leg wound made itself known. He sank back down, howling in pain.
“Greg don’t—”
Sarah’s caution was cut off when Greg Jr. crossed to the side of Greg’s bed and glared at him. “You, bastard, had better get your life in order.” Before any on them could react, Greg Jr. grabbed his son’s neck and aimed a fist at his face.
With no time to think and her protective instinct kicking in, Sarah ran toward Greg’s dad. “No!” she shouted, slamming herself against his body and knocking him backward.
Greg fell back against the mattress, hollering in pain. His cries jolted Chelsea into action, and she ran to Greg’s bedside, crying, “Stop it! Stop it!” Her pleas were drowned out by Greg’s piercing howls.
“Young lady, if I were you, I’d walk out of here right now.” Greg Jr. appraised Sarah with contempt. “Just because my son decided he’d take you in, it doesn’t mean you’ve been welcomed into the family. You’re not free to meddle in our lives.”
Shocked, his father’s words lanced through her heart worse than any dagger.
You’re not welcome.
The statement stung, and it was a definite cue to leave. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude into your business.”
“Yeah, go back to where you came from, and don’t come back!” Greg’s father stalked Sarah until her back was pressed against the wall. His eyes narrowed into angry slits, and his mouth tightened into an unforgiving, grim line.
The sharp and distinct words hit her like she’d been doused with cold water, waking her to the impossibility of a future with Greg. Was this what being with him would entail? Insult after insult? With her own problems to bear, being called names just added to the weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders. Sarah hadn’t signed up for this, and she wouldn’t leave herself vulnerable to continued verbal attacks, whether he was the father of the man she loved or not.
“Enough. Stay away from her!” Greg shouted.
Poised to flee, she took one look at Greg, who was getting out of bed with his mother’s help. Sarah knew the extent of his injuries, and the sight of him struggling to stand made her want to cry.
Torn between staying to help him and fleeing for self-preservation, she inched toward the door. Greg Jr. continued to glare at her, although he took a step back upon Greg’s warning call.
“Don’t go, Sarah.” Greg’s tone echoed in her head even if he couldn’t manage more than a whisper. He hobbled to get to her, his eyes pleading for her to stay. Chelsea had her arms around him, but his weight seemed too much for her slight build to support.
“Greg, I’m sorry. I have to go. I will call you when I get home.” Sarah turned for the door and left without looking back. The last thing she heard before the door closed after her was Greg Jr.’s scathing remark.
“Home? For Christ’s sake, you’re still married, you dumb bastard. You’re just like your mother. Playing house with that little girl?”
She’d kept her composure inside Greg’s hospital room, but the moment she’d cleared the hallway, she let the tears flow. Breaking into a run, she didn’t stop until she’d reached the elevator.
Sarah stumbled when she bumped into a man coming out of the elevator. “I’m sorry.” She dared not look up and show the world her anguish, but a set of strong arms steadied her.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
She recognized Simon’s voice and tried to wipe her unseen tears away. “Nothing. I’m on my way home.”
Stepping inside the elevator, she hoped to get away before being subjected to a round of questions and answers. All she wanted now was to crawl into bed and cry. She punched the button, but Simon wedged his hand in between the steel doors and stepped in with her.
The elevator descended, the steady whirring sound pounding in her head, and she bit her lip to hold back a sob.
“Sarah, what’s going on? You know you can talk to me.” Simon’s solemn voice echoed in the enclosed space.
His kindness and concern made the dam explode. The words rushed out of her mouth in a flood. “Greg is way out of my league. We’re worlds apart. This life I’m leading with him is wrong. I knew it from the start, but I can’t stay away from him. I wanted to protect myself from getting hurt, but it seems like I’m headed that way, no matter what. And I’m so scared. So scared of losing him.”
Sarah threw her hands up in frustration. “All this craziness is scary. And to top it all off, his father hates me and thinks I’m just hanging around because of Greg’s money. The things Mr. Andrews called me . . . how can people be so ignorant and cruel? Simon, I don’t care about those things. I want Greg alive and happy.” Torment clogged her veins, a sick reminder of how wrong her life had been. It hadn’t been her plan to fall in love with Greg.
Simon’s muscular arms enveloped her, and she sagged into him like a battered flower during a storm. “Whatever happened in there, don’t let it get in between you and Greg. You have to trust your instincts . . . and him.”
Sarah gazed up at him through her tears, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Her first inclination was to believe him, but her better sense argued against it. Doing as he suggested would only lead her to further heartache. She and Greg had nothing much in common except their love for each other. Was that enough? Sarah didn’t belong here, and no matter how hard she tried, she’d never fit in. Their worlds weren’t meant to align.
“I don’t know, Simon. This isn’t real. I’ve been living in a dream.”
“It is real, Sarah. You can’t fight it, and you mustn’t. You and Greg have something special. I can see it.” Simon’s gentle tone touched her, and his smile provided the strength she needed.
“I need time to think.”
“Go home, take a long shower, and think about what I’ve said. Don’t let vile words of a boorish and bitter man lead you to believe you don’t deserve to be with Greg.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Sarah nodded, still unconvinced. The scent of the hospital scene wafted around her while they walked through the busy lobby, keeping her nerves frayed and her mood jumpy.
Within minutes, she sat in the back passenger seat of the limousine, and a silent Rudy drove her home. He gave her a sympathetic look when he held the door open for her. No words were necessary. Once Sarah reached the top floor, she let herself into the quiet penthouse.
No Matilda anywhere. At times, the woman was like a mother to her, a presence in Sarah’s life she’d missed, but today, she didn’t want to talk. She needed to regroup and collect her thoughts.
Shutting the door to her bedroom, Sarah leaned back and took a deep breath. Looking at the big picture, any outsider would tell her to stay away. Greg was out of her league. What in the hell was she doing here?
You’re in love with Greg.
“Yes, I am.” Her answer came out without hesitation; defensive, yet certain.
Then you’ll wait for him and talk about it,
her inner voice asserted.
You will make this work.
The ringing of her cell phone shook her out her thoughts. Wiping the tears from her face, she rushed to her nightstand where her purse sat. Sarah fished out her cell phone, and her eyes popped. There were ten missed calls and eight voice mails.
Lily! What could have happened to make her friend call and leave so many messages? Sarah’s mind raced. Had something happened between Lily and Trimble? She quickly dialed the number and was relieved when her friend answered.
“Lily? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Sarah! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night.” Lily’s frantic voice sounded breathless.
“Lily, what’s going on? Did something happen to Trimble? Is that why you called?”
There was a pause, and it sounded like Lily was crying. “Sarah, your father suffered a heart attack yesterday afternoon.”
This was not what Sarah had expected to hear. Her father was as strong as an ox. He was healthy. There wasn’t any history of heart disease in his family. Why him? Why now?
“Dotson’Sa is sure pouring it thick.” Sarah’s hand gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white.
“Sarah, he is asking for you. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think he’s doing very well.” Lily hiccupped, and Sarah’s heart plummeted to her toes. “You have to come home, now.”
“Of course. I’ll catch the first flight I can find.” She hung up and hesitated, not knowing where to begin. It took her several seconds before she collected herself enough to run to Greg’s study and power up the laptop.
While she waited for the computer to come to life, an overwhelming sensation hit her. How could all these things be happening to her and the people she loved? Was this her punishment for refusing to serve her people? She’d heard of Karma and had often scoffed at its implications, but now it seemed real. Too real. The law of give and take was infallible. For every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction.
The merry chime of the operating system booting up dragged her out of her miserable self-reproach. Drumming her fingers on the desk, she thought of Greg. What would she tell him? How would he take her abrupt departure?
Without hesitation, she dialed his number, but his voice mail answered. She tried several more times before giving up. Leaving a message wasn’t an option—she needed to speak with him directly.
Within minutes, she found and purchased a transcontinental flight, which would get her to Alaska in seven hours. Add another thirty minutes for the bush-plane ride from Fairbanks to Beaver, and she’d be home.
Sarah packed her things in a nervous frenzy before she ran around the house searching for Matilda. The woman must have left for the hospital. In a hurried daze, Sarah wrote a short note explaining the reason behind her abrupt departure. Sadness blanketed her when she rushed out of the place she’d called home for several months. Although she hated to leave without saying goodbye, she had less than two hours to get to the airport. With the traffic looming ahead, she’d need luck to make it to the airport in time for her flight.
In the cab, she dialed Greg’s number again and reached the recording once more. Time was running out—once she got on the plane, God knew how long it would be before she could talk to him again.
Traffic had been as bad as she’d expected, moving at a snail’s pace until her nerves were ready to shatter. After clearing airport security, she had just ten minutes left to board the plane. With sweaty palms, she dialed Greg’s number once again, hoping that this time he would answer.
Voice mail again.
Despite her aversion to leaving voice messages, she had no other choice. Sarah owed Greg an explanation for her abrupt departure. She hated for him to think she’d left because of what his father had said. Hurtful as the words had been, she had bigger problems facing her. Leaving town now while Greg was still flat on his back at the hospital might be construed as abandonment, and she didn’t want him to think that was what she was doing.
As soon as his warm tenor finished, she spoke. “Greg, I’m at the airport right now, and my flight is departing in a few minutes. I’m on my way to back to Beaver. My father suffered a heart attack, and they say it’s bad.” Her voice hitched as raw emotions engulfed her. “I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you before I left, but I guess your phone is off. I’ll try calling again the first chance I get. Take good care of yourself. Bye.”