My Heart Can't Tell You No (77 page)

“I fell here.” Jackie’s voice was barely audible as it shook from the cold. “I didn’t think I could get out of it before.”

“We’re across it now. Nothing to worry about. We’re about halfway home.” He placed the boy on the ground again. “You’ve got to keep moving.”

When they had only twenty more yards before the abandoned blacktop, and another seventy yards to reach Maddie’s driveway, they were only two mindless beings struggling against the deathly cold. Joe’s face stung so badly that he could hardly keep an intelligent thought in his head. He was concentrating on that abandoned blacktop; that would be followed by Maddie’s driveway, that would be followed by Maddie’s door, that would be followed by Maddie—and heat.

He heard a whimpering somewhere—from where? That’s right, that mutt he had bought—it was in Jackie’s backpack. There—we’ve reached the blacktop. Only a few more steps. He knew he had to keep moving when all he wanted to do was kneel down and curl himself into a ball. But why? He had to find Jackie. He had to get his son. He was going uphill, his feet moving on their own now. Something fell beside him—what was it? His hand automatically reached out and pulled up what had slipped.
Jackie
?

“It hurts!” The boy screeched.

“That’s it, keep walking. That’s a good boy. You can do it. You’re a good, strong boy. One of the best.” His mindless words came as he nudged the boy ahead of him. They had to get home—fast.

“What’s that?!” Jackie yelled as they were nearly halfway up the hill on the old blacktop.

Joe stopped, hearing the loud cracking above them that had stopped his son a few steps ahead of him. It sounded like—a tree! His gaze flew up above them.

“God!! Jackie!! Look out!!”

Joe jumped forward, diving as he shoved his son out of the way, seeing him go face-first into the snow a few yards ahead of him. Then he felt the big limb strike his legs; they crumpled as he plowed into the ground.

“DAD! DAD! DAD!”

‘Jackie,
go
home.
Get
warm.
Please
God,
let
him
get
home
and
get
warm.
God,
I’m
cold,
and
tired,
so
tired.’

He felt a warmth on his face, then saw a red haze before it turned to blackness.

CHAPTER XLIV
 

W
ords and phrases drifted past Joe, none of them making much sense as his semi-consciousness refused to release him.

I
broke
him!
Hypothermia.
Fractured
tib-fib.
I
broke
him!
Dad
 . . .
sorry
 . . . 
get
his
legs
Tom
 . . .
think
the
shin’s
broke
 . . .
You
two?
Ain’t
you
married
yet?
 . . .
got
to
get
that
temperature
to
go
up
or
 . . .
Jesus—the
kid
must
have
dragged
him
fifty
feet
up
that
hill!
 . . .
blood
 . . .
all
over
us
 . . . 
boy’s
hands
 . . .
fingers
 . . .
frostbite
 . . .
Gert,
get
him
a
cup
of
coffee
 . . .
boy’s
face
 . . .
cut
 . . .
laceration
on
brow
 . . .
Take
care
of
the
Mouse
 . . .
I’d
say
that
was
pretty
good,
wouldn’t
you,
Jack?
 . . .
everything
has
to
come
off
 . . .
see
that
his
wife
gets
his
things
 . . .
John,
put
this
one
on,
he’s
bleeding
pretty
bad
 . . .
Dad!
Please!
Get
up!
I
broke
him!

“You two? Ain’t you married yet?” Lew’s voice chuckled.

Joe’s eyes slowly opened, showing him the crisp whiteness surrounding him. His vision focused on the man standing at the foot of his bed, the light from the hall shining off the sterilized atmosphere of the room.

“Lew?”

“Well? You gonna answer me? Hopefully you’ll answer me right this time.”

“Yeah,” Joe smiled weakly back at him. “We’re finally married.”

“Well.” Lew tapped Joe’s foot with his cane, then moved to sit on the chair. “It’s about time. So, ya got your son back, huh?”

“Yeah. I got him back. And I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t get away from me again.”

“Ya think ya can do that? Do ya finally know how to do it?”

“What do you mean?” Joe asked.

“I mean—the bull facin’ the mule again. Only this time the mule’s just a little calf who idolizes that bull. It isn’t very easy idolizing a bull when he keeps getting bucked all the time.”

“You’re saying I’m too hard on Jackie?” Joe didn’t understand.

“Not really. You’re not much of anything on him. And that’s hitting him a lot harder than if you were. He’s afraid of you. Did you know that?”

“He doesn’t show it.”

“Hell no. He’s got that McNier Irish pride. I seem to remember another little Irish kid who didn’t get much of anything from his old man. The love was there—but they never showed it. Turned out, this kid grew into a man who buried a father who was a stranger to him. Not much for
this
little Irish kid to look forward to—is it?”

“No. It isn’t,” Joe sighed.

“So what are ya gonna do about it?” Lew got to his feet and moved back to the foot of Joe’s bed.

“Any suggestions?”

“Nope. I’m done giving suggestions. It’s about time you started thinking up ones of your own, don’t ya think?”

“Yes.”

“So then, I take it you know what ya gotta do now.”

“I know.”

“Well, then I’ll leave ya so you can get it done. Take care of yourself, Joe. You’ve got yourself one helluva family there. Don’t ever forget it.” Lew moved toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Joe felt a strange tearing sensation in his chest—he didn’t want to lose this man
again
.

Lew paused in the doorway as he looked back at Joe. A chuckle coming from him as if he had read Joe’s mind. “You aren’t
losing
me
again.
I came today, didn’t I?”

“Lew. We all love you so damn much.
God
, how we miss you. Mom—she’s hurting so bad—I don’t know if she can take you leaving her like you did.”

The smile on Lew’s face was glowing. “Sarah
will
make it. When it’s time—don’t ever doubt that I’ll be there with her. And don’t ever doubt that I’m with her right now. For your sake, for her family’s sake, I’ll help her. I’ll keep her with you for as long as I’m allowed. She’s got a good life—a good family who needs her now as much as they did when they were babies. And a husband who will always need her to stand by him. So, since she knows that, her strength alone will keep her with you for some time. And about missing me? Just think about me once in a while. I’ll be happy to know I’m remembered. Then I can feel I had some purpose while I was here. And about
loving
me
,” Lew chuckled, shifting his glance away from Joe as if he were embarrassed, then looked back at him. “I know.”

“Lew? Where are you going?” Joe repeated.

“Well,” Lew took in a deep breath as he straightened from the cane he was leaning on then looked at him with an impish smile. “Right now, I think I’ll go out there and put this cane to some real use. It works wonders at lifting those nurses’ skirts.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in such stuff now,” Joe smiled sadly.

“Not too much. Do you think Gert would allow it? But you should see how they jump,” Lew chuckled again, then took a step into the hall, his large boisterous frame dissolving into the brilliance of the lights.

The brightness of the morning sun woke Joe as he turned on his uncomfortable bed—a turn that he never completed; an unfamiliar stiffness and soreness opened his eyes. The sight was as unfamiliar as his pain; a large window that took up half of the wall—a short wall at that. His gaze moved toward the adjoining wall, seeing the television on a shelf near the ceiling. That was enough. He knew where he was. It was a typical hospital room. He looked toward the foot of his bed, the sight of the cast from his foot to above his knee surprising him until he remembered the crunching he had heard before he passed out. As he turned his head toward the door, a pair of long shapely legs stopped him. He knew he had never seen a more seductive set of gams in his life.

“If I weren’t attached to this—contraption—I’d slide over and have you join me.” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry.

“If you weren’t attached to that contraption—I’d take you home and join you in a
real
bed.” She poured a glass of water, then moved to the edge of his bed. “Do you want to sit up?”

“I wanna do more than just
sit
up
.” He reached for the glass she offered with one hand while sliding his other over one of those delectable legs. She positioned his bed until he was in a more upright position.

“Ya know, most people are tired and prepared to rest when coming out of an accident like yours, not piping hot and raring to go.” She laid her hand on his as she removed it from her left hip and watched him drink some water, a mischievous smile lighting his sleepy eyes.

He handed her the glass and watched as she replaced it on his tray, then reached for her hand. “Come here.”

“Anything to speed your recovery,” she smiled down at him then moved to sit close to him on the edge of his bed.

“Say that in a few days and you’d better make sure that door has a lock on it.” His hand slid to the inside of her thigh as she leaned close and briefly pressed her lips to his.

“In a few days I hope to have you out of here. Your youngest son insists that if you can go outside and break your leg, he can too.”

“He would,” Joe laughed softly.

“And your oldest son and daughter are convinced you conspired against them by waiting until you were twenty-five and twenty-six to have them.”

“Why?”

“Lisa’s only ten—Ollie’s nine. They have to be twelve to come up and visit you.”

“Not if they meet me in the waiting room.”

“And how am I supposed to get you out there? Sorry, but I’m not up to pushing your bed through the doorway.”

“They won’t have me strapped up here forever. They’d
better
have me up on crutches some time today or the nurses will be back here all the time, bitchin’ at me to put out my cigarettes.”

“Recovering from a concussion and a fractured leg—not to mention the stitches in your face—and you’re lying there worrying about your cigarettes.”

“I had other things on my mind first, but you said I couldn’t do that either. So what’s left?” he smiled. “So what about the other one? The one you forgot to mention?”

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Her eyes moved to his chest, knowing he was referring to Jackie.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t even remember walking the last half mile. I was so cold, I think my brain was frozen. I remember the tree falling almost on top of Jackie. I pushed him away, then the damn thing landed on me. That’s about it.”

“Where were you when it fell? Do you remember?”

“Almost home. About halfway up that old abandoned road.”

“Well, when Tom pulled up in your truck you were in the driveway.”

“I got up and walked? On a broken leg?” Joe asked doubtfully.

“No. Jackie was dragging you. Tom started blowing the horn, and, when John and I came out, Jackie was crying, muttering a lot of stuff about breaking you and killing you. His forehead was bleeding so bad, his right eye was closed to keep the blood out. When Tom reached you and tried to help, Jackie told him not to touch you, that he had to get you in the house where you’d get warm. His hands were almost frozen. He took off his gloves and pressed them against your cut, then wrapped some cloth around your head.”

Joe sighed deeply as he watched her. “I thought I
dreamt
the doctors saying his hands and fingers were frostbitten.”

“But they weren’t. Last night they told me he was lucky they weren’t.”

“How’d he get cut? He was out of the way when the tree limb fell.”

“I think it was when he got you out from under it. He must have bent down too fast without looking and gashed it on a sharp part of the limb,” she told him, then looked at him with a distressed smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was fate that made him cut his head. Do you remember how you got
this
scar?” She lifted her hand to touch his eyebrow.