The View from Prince Street (28 page)

Eric turned around. “Hey, Dr. McDonald.”

Hard to hold on to worry around that boy. “Eric. Are you excited about all this family history we're learning?”

He nodded yes and in a small whisper said, “Witches are pretty cool.”

Zeb ruffled his boy's head and turned it back toward the center of the room. “Margaret has a new fan.”

“Can't fault him for that.”

I settled in my seat, refusing to look toward the door again. Checking my watch, I calculated that Susan and Michael were now fifteen minutes late. This was normal with Beltway traffic, but it felt like fifteen years.

Margaret set three boxes on the table and opened each. She removed the shattered pieces of the Shire/Morgan family's bottle and then the very intact bottles created by a McDonald and a Smyth.

“This has turned into a very interesting story, not just about three bottles, but three women and their dire circumstances that brought them together to create a pact that bound them for a lifetime.”

My Dearest Children,

The farmer's wife died on a snowy Wednesday afternoon. She was forty-nine years old. Mr. McDonald and Patrick were at her side. Neither of the men wept, but stood solemnly without speaking a word.

We buried her in the back field and the three of us stood at the grave, silent, not holding hands or giving comfort. When the farmer turned and walked back to the main house, Patrick took my hand in his, but did not look at me. “Thank you,” he whispered. He pulled free and went back into the house. Marcus, at my invitation, joined us and the four of us ate dinner in silence that evening. As I sat in my rocker by the fire, the boys sat close, talking in hushed whispers. This was a rare and precious moment, and I should have savored it. But I could only think about the thousands of moments just like this that had been stolen from me by the woman we buried today.

—F

Rae McDonald

F
RIDAY
, S
EPTEMBER
2, 5:15
P.M.

A
pact that bound them for a lifetime.

Margaret's words did not register with me. My focus remained on my phone, the back door, and Michael and Susan's arrival. As the minutes ticked by, the sharp edge of my excitement dulled. I watched as Margaret flashed slides of the contents of Addie's bottle. Nails. Shards of glass. A strip of cloth. A lock of hair. She explained the meaning and the context, but I wasn't there. I wanted to see Michael, if only for a few minutes. Had he changed his mind? Was he angry with me?

When my cell buzzed in my hand and I saw Susan's number, I rose immediately and moved out the side door to the alley. Pressing a finger into one ear to block out the noise of the street, I clutched the phone closely. “Susan. Is everything all right?”

“No. I should have called you earlier but this is the first time I've had the chance to get to my phone.” Her voice shuddered with worry.

“What is it?”

She hesitated, drawing in a ragged breath. “There's been a car accident. Michael was injured.”

The world around me shifted and I felt the ice cascade over me, freezing every cell in my body. “How bad?”

Her voice wavered. “It's serious.”

“Where is he?”

“He's in surgery at the hospital in Alexandria. We were on our way to your event. We were broadsided at an intersection.”

As I looked to the setting sun, the vibrant oranges and yellows shattered like glass. “Susan, can I come to the hospital?”

“Yes. In fact, I was hoping you could donate blood. He's AB negative, like your medical record stated.”

“I'm leaving right now.” I mapped the journey in my mind. “I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

A sob escaped. “Hurry, Rae.”

When I turned, Zeb stood by the door, his face etched with concern. I'd done my best to keep my emotions in check, but he knew something was wrong. As much as I wanted to hide all this, I was overwhelmed. “I've got to go.”

He stepped in my path. “What's wrong?”

Whatever locks I'd fastened to the past had broken with Susan's call. “I have a son, Zeb. I was sixteen when he was born and I gave him up for adoption. I just got off the phone with his mother. He's been in a serious car accident in Alexandria. I need to go now.”

Without looking away, he reached in his front pocket and pulled out car keys. “I'll drive.”

“What?”

“You focus on what needs to be done. I'll drive. We'll get through this.”

“What about Eric?”

He went up to Addie and whispered something in her ear, and she got up and moved directly behind Eric. “Addie's got him.”

Tremors rattled deep under the ice. “You don't have to do this.”

He pressed his hand to my back. “We've got to move. Stay positive. The boy will need it.”

I was always in control. I ran my own show. It had been a long time since I'd accepted help, but right now, I was so grateful for it. “It's Alexandria Hospital.”

“Understood.”

He grabbed me under my arm and nearly lifted me out of my shoes as we sprinted to his truck. He slung open the passenger door and pushed me inside. I clutched my purse to my belly, which now ached with a sensation I'd not felt in years. Worry. Fear. Dread. Sadness. It was all there.

“Buckle up,” he said.

Frantically, I clicked the buckle in place as he slammed the door. Seconds later, he was behind the wheel and we were in route. He didn't ask me any questions as we drove across town. He didn't prod or pry. He did what he did best. He acted. No hesitation or doubt.

We both hurried through the emergency room doors, and I rushed up to the nurses' station. “My name is Dr. Rae McDonald. I'm here for Michael Holloway. His mother, Susan Holloway, called me.”

“Are you family?”

I raised my chin. “I'm his birth mother.”

“Ah, you're the one we've been waiting for. We may need you to donate blood if you're a match.”

“Where are Michael and Susan?”

“She's in the family center waiting for the surgeon's update.”

The paltry details didn't satisfy, but I understood that regulations prevented her from telling me more. Legally, I was not family. “Take me to where I should go.”

The nurse studied Zeb, her stern eyes sizing him up.

“I'm with Rae. And I'll go back with her.”

“I can only take blood donors back.”

Zeb grinned, but there was no humor in his dark eyes. “Then I'm a blood donor.”

The nurse handed us both visitor badges. “We can always use blood.”

We moved down the sterile hallways, the fluorescent lights buzzing as monitors beeped, gurneys rolled, and people talked in hushed tones. We entered a lab where there was a collection of large chairs. They were equipped with adjustable armrests.

A nurse looked up from a clipboard. “Yes?”

“I'm Dr. Rae McDonald. You're expecting me.”

“Especially if you're AB negative today.”

“My blood's not a match,” Zeb said. “But you're welcome to it.”

“Great. You can sit next to your wife.”

I would have been slightly chagrined by the comment given a different set of circumstances. Both Zeb and I let the comment stand.

Without a thought, Zeb took the seat beside me. “I'm O positive.”

The nurse nodded. “We're short all types right now, so glad to have you.”

I tipped my head back against the seat, and as tears brimmed, I closed my eyes to stop them. When I thought I could trust my voice, I said, “Thanks, Zeb.”

His dark eyes softened with a tenderness that stirred more emotion than I could handle. “You would've done the same, Rae.”

That startled a nervous laugh, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

As the nurse readied to put a needle in my arm, I asked, “Do you know where Susan is? I'd really like to speak to her.”

“She's waiting for the surgeon's update and said she'd find you as soon as she could. From what I understand, the operation is nearly finished.”

I instinctively drew my arm back. “And he's okay?”

She eased me back in the chair. “I'm not supposed to say.” She winked and smiled, suggesting the outcome was good. She pushed up
my sleeve and traced the deep blue vein on my arm. “You're in good shape. You work out?”

“I run most days,” I said, more to myself than to her.

“How far do you run?” She positioned the needle over the vein.

“I know what you're doing. You're trying to distract me. I promise I'm fine. Just stick the needle in me.”

The nurse regarded Zeb, as if she had something important to say. For an instant, I looked at him, and the nurse slyly slid the needle into my arm with little pain. She quickly taped it in place and asked me to squeeze the rubber ball in my hand. “I heard you were a psychologist, but we nurses also have a few tricks up our sleeve.”

“Well played,” I said.

Within minutes, Zeb, too, was attached to a bag and we had nothing to do but wait.

I was amazed that the clock's second hand now crawled around the face of the dial.

Zeb tracked my gaze and said, “The nurse said he was going to be fine.”

“But what does
fine
mean? It's one of those words that really doesn't say all that much when you think about it.”

“You're thinking too hard.
Fine
means he'll be okay. I could tell by her expression that she meant
fine
in the best way.”

I knew he meant well, but his reasoning grated against my fears and left me annoyed. “So you're a psychologist as well?”

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “You don't run a successful construction business without learning a thing or two about people. You should meet some of my clients.”

I stared at the rubber ball in my hand. “We can't be sure of anything regarding Michael at this moment.”

“Take you, for instance,” he said, as if I'd never spoken.

“What about me?” Annoyance sharpened the words.

A smile tweaked the edges of his lips as he leaned his head back
and paused a long moment, until he was satisfied he had my attention. “You don't like your house.”

“What? Of course I like it. It's been in the family for hundreds of years.”

“You stay there because it belongs to your family, but you don't like it.”

“It's a wonderful house.”

“For whom? You've been slowly dismantling it for the last couple of years since your mother passed. First, you had me gut the kitchen, and then you hired me to redo your room and the suite. Then your office. You've transformed the spaces. Now, the addition.”

“The house needed it.”

“And the stone hearth. You've been eyeing that for a couple of years.”

“How do you know?”

“While we were working on the kitchen, I'd watch you go outside and stand in front of it and just stare.”

“It was an unsightly pile of rocks.”

“That you were told never to remove.”

She shook her head. “Maybe my mother was right. I've seen more change in the last six weeks than I've seen in the last sixteen years.”

“That so bad?”

“No. It's not that bad.” I relaxed back against the headrest, energy fading. “Thank you.”

“If it were Eric, I'd be demanding answers.”

A part of me felt as if I had the right to be here and another part told me this was not my place.

“You've a right to be here,” Zeb said, reading my thoughts.

I searched his steady, determined expression. “Do you really believe that?”

He shoved out a breath. “I've had a lot of issues with my ex-wife. I resent the way she just took off and abandoned Eric. I know she's sick,
but the facts don't lessen the anger. But one thing I have admired about Janet is that she gave Carrie to Addie. That kid is better off with Addie, and Janet knows it.”

Secrets. Was I willing to shine a light into the darkest corners? “The last time I was in a hospital, Michael was born. The place was so huge and frightening to me.”

Zeb studied me a long moment. “Were your parents with you?”

“My dad had already passed. I was staying with a friend of my mother's in Winchester and when my labor started, she was called. She drove out to get me and helped me pack my bag. As she drove me to the hospital in Winchester, she never said one word.” The rolling landscape had raced past me as contractions gripped my belly. “I just did my best not to cry.”

His frown telegraphed his disapproval. “She didn't support you very much.”

“I can't blame her. My father died over two years before my sister. Mom always struggled with emotion, and their deaths shut her down completely.”

“It's okay to be angry with her, Rae.”

“I'm not angry. Or at least I wasn't.” I tipped my head back. “That heart of stone you gave me pretty much sums it up.”

“That's not true. Not at all. You wouldn't be here if you didn't care, Rae. And losing Michael explains a lot about you.”

Unwanted tears burned, and I pressed my fingertips to my eyes. “Only a few people know, including Lisa, and she only found out by accident. She was a good friend of my sister's and she happened to see me right before Michael was born.”

He took my cold hand in his and gently squeezed. “No one will know about this from me.”

“He's not going to be a secret anymore. He's a part of me and I can't deny that anymore.”

“Fair enough.”

His phone dinged with a text and he dug it out. A smile tugged at the edge of his lips and he turned the phone toward her. It was a picture of Addie, Carrie, and Eric peering through the windowpanes of a reclaimed window covered with white, chipping paint.

“Addie is a good soul,” I said.

“She is.”

“You and Addie have a lot in common.”

He tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Trying to fix me up, Dr. McDonald?”

The words lifted the weight off my heart for an instant and I could almost smile. “No.”

“Good.” His focus didn't waver.

I moistened dry lips. “Margaret asked me to find a husband for Rachel and my first thought was you. You both make logical sense.”

His gaze held mine. “Really?”

“You two have a lot in common. Children. Family. Friends. And then you said she felt like a sister.”

“I can find my own woman, Rae.”

“I would agree.”

He traced the back of my hand with his thumb.

Words so long locked away rushed toward a bottleneck. “I like you.”

“I like you, too, Rae.”

I looked at him. “I mean
like
like.”

“I know what you mean. I understand why you don't like your house, but you have hired me for four different jobs.”