Lakeside Reunion (15 page)

“You get my point.”

“We used to sit at one of the small tables next to the windows. Dad liked watching the ducks on the lake. One year we came—oh, I must have been twelve or thirteen—and a couple was sitting at our table. Dad asked them if they'd mind moving so he could have that table for his special girl. They did. I couldn't believe it. After brunch, we'd sit by the fire. Dad used to tell me funny stories about his job. I'd catch him up on what was happening at school. We walked around the lake. Before we left, he always prayed over me, asking God's blessings for another year. I miss those brunches.”

He bumped her with his shoulder. “Look at that, you shared a story.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Thanks.” She shivered.

“Cold?”

“A little. Maybe we should head back.”

Stephen shrugged off his dinner jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Here, this will help keep you warm.”

“But you'll freeze.”

“I'll be fine.” He held on to the lapels of his jacket and pulled her closer to him. The moonlight danced across her hair. He stroked his knuckles across her cheekbone. “You're so beautiful. And that dress…”

Lindsey smiled and twined her fingers in his, sending a jolt through his heart. Her eyes glistened. “Do you remember our talk along the river a few weeks ago? You said I needed to forgive you freely, but at the time, I couldn't do it.” She looked away and stared at the lake. “I nursed a broken heart for five years, wrapping it in self-righteous anger. You've lost so much, yet you're so much stronger. I envy that. My heart aches for Tyler. If you hadn't married Bethany, he wouldn't have a dad, either. I loved mine so much, and, well, I probably would have done the same thing in your shoes. I forgive you, Stephen—for everything. And I'm sorry.”

Her words buoyed his heart, freeing the guilt he felt after making a nearly impossible choice. He appreciated her thoughtful words but hoped she'd be willing to trust him with her heart again.

Stephen cupped her face and brushed his lips across hers, then cradled her against his chest. “I accept. And thank you. You don't know how freeing that is for me. Ty and I take things one day at a time, Linds. Between my family and God, I manage to get out of bed each morning. Ty may not understand why his mom died, but he doesn't blame God because he has a childlike faith. The same kind of faith adults should
have but seem to have forgotten. Sometimes it's rough, but we're not alone.”

He stepped away from her and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. His back to the lake, he listened to the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. The one question he wanted to ask again balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't want to ruin this magical moment. Did she truly forgive him? Enough to trust him again with her heart? What if she laughed in his face? Would she understand he wanted more than a mother for Ty?

Turning to face her, he traced a curl that hugged her jaw and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Lindsey. This isn't the best place and I probably have rotten timing, but I can't deny it. You've been in my waking thoughts since the day you came back home six weeks ago. I can't change the past, but I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. Will you marry me?”

L
indsey had two hours to decide if she was going to risk her fragile heart again with its pieces held together with tape. Resting her elbows on the table, she sipped her cooling tea and stared out the window. The cast-iron darkness shrouded the backyard.

How often had she fantasized about Stephen proposing to her again? And now that he did, she didn't exactly jump into his arms with cries of “Yes” spilling out of her mouth.

What was up with her hesitation? It was what she always wanted, right?

She promised him an answer when he came for breakfast at seven. Her heart knew he was the only man for her. Unfortunately her head kept her awake all night with reasons why she should hop into her convertible and hit the road before dawn stretched across the sky to nudge aside the moon. His proposal
had
caught her off guard. What if he was caught up in the romance of the moment—the moonlight sighing over the water while music from the swing band waltzed with the evening breeze—and regretted his impulsive question now?

A shuffling near the kitchen doorway pulled her attention away from the window and her thoughts. Hair matted to the
side of her head, Mom leaned on her crutches and smothered a yawn. Her eyes shuttered against the light over the table.

“Honey, what are you doing awake? It's not even daylight yet.”

“Sorry if I woke you. Go back to sleep. No sense in both of us being up.” Why was she whispering?

Mom hobbled to the table and eased onto a chair. “What's wrong?”

Lindsey traced the rim of her mug, blinking back a rush of tears. “Stephen asked me to marry him.”

“Oh, honey. And what did you tell him?”

“Nothing yet. He's coming for breakfast at seven. I'll tell him then.” She tugged on the cuff of her thermal weave pajama shirt.

“What are you going to say?”

“I don't know yet. What if he has a change of heart and doesn't show?”

“Do you love him?”

“Against my better judgment, yes.”

“Well, there's your answer.”

“It's not that simple, Mom.”

“Sweetheart, one thing I've learned these past six weeks is life is too short to put your happiness on hold. You love Stephen. He obviously loves you or he wouldn't have asked you to marry him. Everything else is gravy. Unless the problem is Tyler. Mothering someone else's child.”

“Stephen's child is wonderful. I adore him.”

“So what's the problem?”

“Stephen broke my heart, Mom. What if he does it again?”

“Oh, honey. You can't live your life in fear of what could happen. You need faith. In Stephen. In yourself. Put your trust in God and let Him do the rest.”

“It's so easy to say. A lot harder to do.”

“You're right, but you can't spend your life worrying about
the unknown.” Mom brushed a kiss across Lindsey's forehead. “I'm going back to bed. Let me know if you need to talk, though.”

Left to her thoughts once again, Lindsey filtered her mother's advice and then headed upstairs to shower. Forty-five minutes later, she returned to the kitchen to start breakfast.

The scent of fried bacon whetted her appetite. As she beat eggs for omelets, she realized she was humming. She stopped whisking. Making breakfast hadn't been enjoyable since her dad died. And now she was making breakfast for the man she loved—the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The realization of her answer brushed a smile across her face.

She poured the beaten eggs into the heated skillet and tilted the pan to coat the bottom. She sprinkled cheese and ham down the middle and waited for the edges to bubble so she could fold the sides together. Glancing at the clock, she dropped two slices of whole wheat bread into the toaster.

Someone knocked on the back door.

“Just in time.” She flicked off the burner, dried her suddenly damp hands on her jeans and took a deep breath before opening the door.

Instead of Stephen, Melissa stood in the doorway.

“Hey, Mel. You're up early. Come in. Want some tea? Stephen's stopping by for breakfast any minute, but there's always enough for one more.”

“Lindsey, Dad received a call from the station—” A shadow passed over Melissa's eyes. The look on her face curdled Lindsey's stomach.

Lindsey whirled away from the door, leaving Melissa standing on the welcome mat, and hurried back to the stove. She flicked on the burner. Her white-knuckled grip held the pan steady as she cut through the cooked eggs with the silicone spatula, scrambling them. “I'm making ham-and-cheese
omelets. Stephen's favorite. Or at least they used to be. You know, it's been a while, so I'm not sure. Maybe I should have asked him.”

“Linds—” Melissa touched her arm.

Lindsey shrugged off her arm. “I'm sorry, Melissa, but I don't have time to talk. Stephen's going to be here any minute. I have to finish his breakfast. We have a lot to talk about. I need to give him an answer.”

Melissa reached in front of her and turned off the heat. Burned eggs singed the air. “Honey, Stephen's not coming. He got called into work early—”

“He's coming. He promised.” She chopped the eggs into minuscule pieces.

“There was a domestic dispute. Stephen's been hurt. He's in the E.R.”

Lindsey threw the spatula into the skillet, splattering cooked eggs and strings of melted cheese across the black surface of the electric range. Grabbing the bacon, she dropped it in the trash, plate and all. “He promised.”

Please, God. Not again.

 

The diamond-patterned border that rimmed the sterile exam room blurred as pain seared Stephen's thigh like a branding iron. His breath leeched through clenched teeth, deflating his lungs one gasp at a time. “What are you using to clean my leg, Rox? Battery acid?”

“Suck it up, Marine. If you weren't such a baby about needles, I'd give you a shot of lidocaine to numb the wound.” She squeezed another stream of liquid over the gash in his leg.

Stephen focused on the pale blue wall over his cousin's shoulder. If he didn't watch, maybe the pain would be less intense. Right. “Nice bedside manner. Must make you a hit with your patients.”

“Seriously, Stephen? I'm simply irrigating it with a sterile saline solution. You don't want infection to set in.”

“I don't? Really? Thanks for that news flash.”

Roxanne slapped the plastic bottle on the metal tray table. She shot him a glare. “What is your problem?”

He dug his fingers into the sheets. “How about a recap? After an incredible evening, I was called out of bed for backup because some idiot still soaked on yesterday's booze used his family as a punching bag. A little girl watched as her dad beat her mother into unconsciousness. Then he punched her grandmother, breaking the old lady's jaw. Finally, instead of stabbing me in the chest, the jerk ruined my uniform. And did I mention I hate needles? I really hate needles.”

Sweat slicked his brow as she bent over the wound. From the pain? Or his near miss with death? The line blurred somewhere between.

Maybe.

If Stephen hadn't been alert, Kirk Green's knife may have ended up in his heart instead of slicing his thigh.

Roxanne laid a hand on his arm. “Listen, I'm really sorry about that family. We've both seen our fair share of junk. You've had a rough night. I get it, but don't take it out on me. I've been here since 7:00 p.m. yesterday.”

“Sorry, I shouldn't have taken my bad mood out on you.”

“No, you shouldn't. I'm on your side, pal. I hope that jerk gets everything he deserves. As for the needle thing, that dog bite was so long ago. Shouldn't you be over your fear of shots by now?”

“I said I hated them. I'm not afraid of them.” His stomach churned.

“Then stop being a baby because according to your records, your tetanus is out of date.” Roxanne cleaned the skin around the wound with dampened gauze. She wrapped up the
soiled pads, peeled off her gloves and dropped everything in the red hazardous-waste bin.

“What happened to a nurse's compassion?”

“What happened to the tough cop?” She scribbled on a notepad and shoved it in the pocket of her pink scrubs.

“I'm going to tell your mom.”

“Go ahead, tattletale. I'll tell her not to invite you to Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, well, she loves me, so I'll be there. And I may have a guest.”

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. A slow smile skimmed her face. “Oh, yeah, who?”

“Lindsey.” Her name slid out barely a whisper. If he said it any louder, he was afraid somehow, someway it would jinx what they had. Not that he believed in jinxes or anything, but he didn't want anything to jeopardize their relationship. Not when he finally had her back in his arms. For good this time.

“Seriously? So you two are back together?”

“I asked her to marry me, Rox.”

“Really? Don't you think it's a little soon?” Roxanne crossed her arms over her chest. A flicker of concern flashed across her face.

Stephen rubbed the back of his neck. “We've known each other for years. And we've been given a second chance. Why waste it?”

“What did she say?”

“She's giving me her answer at breakfast.” He tried to stand and nearly passed out when a wave of dizziness crashed over him. “Oh, man, breakfast. I'm late! I need to call her.”

Roxanne flattened a palm against his chest and pushed him back against the bed. “I'm sure she'll understand. Get back on the bed.”

“No, not Lindsey. Not about breakfast.” He glanced at the
clock. He was so late. Where was his cell phone? Maybe he could call.

“You can't do anything about it until Dr. Warren comes in to stitch that gash. I'll see how long she's going to be.” She closed the curtain behind her as she returned to the nurses' station, leaving Stephen to stare at the ceiling and listen to the seconds tick away.

 

An hour later, Stephen eased himself into his recliner. His newly stitched thigh throbbed, but not as much as the jab in the arm. Man, the tetanus shot burned more than the stitches. Hopefully the painkillers would kick in soon. He came home in a pair of hospital scrubs, but changed into gray sweats that had seen better days but were much more comfortable.

Chief Laughton stopped by the hospital to check on him and gave him the rest of the day off. Told him not to worry about coming in tomorrow if he wasn't up to it. He'd be on desk duty until the stitches came out. Oh, joy.

He reached for the phone and dialed Lindsey's number. Again. But it went straight to voice mail. Again. He sent a text asking her to call him. He tried her mother's house, but when the machine picked up, he ended the call without leaving a message. With the other three he already left, she was sure to know he tried to get in touch with her. Why wouldn't she answer her phone?

An uneasy feeling simmered in the pit of his stomach.

When Melissa showed up at the hospital to drive him home and told him about her conversation with Lindsey, Stephen forced himself not to strangle his sister. She had no right. He wanted to be the one to tell her—after he had been released from the hospital so she would see there was nothing to worry about.

The doorbell rang. Stephen groaned and hauled himself out of the chair. He limped to the door and pulled it open.

Lindsey stood on the porch. Red cheeks, windblown hair, belted plaid coat that accentuated her waist—she looked like a million bucks. Seeing her was better than any drug. The throbbing in his thigh lessened.

He reached out to take her hand. “Hey, you. I just tried calling you again.”

She stepped back and tucked her hands in her coat pockets. “I got your text.”

He looked over her shoulder. “Where's your car?”

“I walked. I've been walking.” Lindsey tapped the toe of her shoe against the welcome mat.

She looked at her feet, over his shoulder, at the leaves skipping across the porch—every place except at him. An emotion he couldn't quite describe flashed across her face.

He wrapped his arms around her, but he might as well have been hugging a fence post for all the response he got. He leaned down to kiss her, but she turned her cheek.

“Come in.” He pushed the door open wider and stepped aside.

She hesitated and then stepped over the threshold. She smelled of sunshine and fresh air.

“Would you like something to drink? Tea?”

“No, thanks. I can't stay long.”

“Well, at least come into the living room where it's warm. I have a fire going.”

She kicked off her shoes and headed for the living room. Lindsey rubbed her hands together and opened her palms to the fire. Her hair curtained her face. “Today would have been my parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

“I'm sorry.” He tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face. He caressed her jaw with his thumb.

“Instead of spending the day locked in her room as she's done in the past, Mom and Max shopped for a wedding cake. Mom always said Dad was one of a kind. Now she has Max.”

The pain on her face slit him in the chest. “Your dad was one of a kind. Max is a blessing, not a replacement.”

“I know. I admired my parents' marriage. I wanted to marry that one-of-a-kind person. And I found him. You, Stephen, were the one I wanted to marry—the one I wanted to share breakfast with. I loved you with my whole heart.” She turned away from the fireplace and faced him. Tears pooled in her eyes, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Over the past few weeks, I've seen a new side of you. You're an amazing dad to Tyler. And the way you care for your family, my mended heart didn't stand a chance. I saw Mom's newfound happiness and wondered if I'd get my second chance. Last night when you proposed, I was elated. And scared. What if you broke my heart again? How could I handle that again?”