скачать книгу бесплатно
So she had to be fine. It was just taking Morton a while to confirm that, but any minute he’d be back on the line with word that Beth’s train delay was nothing, a minor glitch…. And there he was now.
“Rafe?” The cop sounded uneasy, and he felt himself bracing for a blow before he could remember that everything was fine. “Look, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but—” Then Morton broke off. “Wait a minute, was your wife traveling with—”
“Her sister, yeah,” he managed to answer. Maybe there was a mix-up, maybe something had happened to her sister. Which would be hard on Beth, yeah, but as long as she was still alive— “Anne. They’re twins.”
“Ah, hell,” the cop muttered. There was a pause, during which Rafe scrambled for any prayer he could think of, any hope, any magic, and came up completely blank. “The sister’s being transported to emergency right now. But Beth…I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”
No.
No, he repeated as he slowly replaced the phone in its cradle. That wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t happen.
It happens all the time.
No.
Not this time.
“She didn’t make it.”
Not Beth.
Not again.
But already he recognized the feeling—that same heaviness, that same hot pressure of tears—
No.
No tears. He had to move, Rafe knew, he had to move someplace, do something—
Not cry.
No. No point. He stumbled into the lobby, where if anyone was waiting he could find something to do, something besides crying, because he wasn’t crying, this was crazy, even with nobody here he still wasn’t breaking down—
It hurts.
No, it couldn’t. Beth couldn’t be gone, because he still needed to fix things. After the way she’d left, thinking that delaying a baby meant he didn’t love her, when he did love her—
But not enough.
Never enough.
Rafe felt a shudder rising in his chest and gulped it down, bracing his hands against the back of the cracked plastic sofa where clients waited for the lawyer on duty. He couldn’t lock the door, not when someone might show up any minute, but he couldn’t—
God, he couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t fix this.
He had to fix this! That was his job, fixing things, and he couldn’t stand here crying in the clinic lobby—
But the tears wouldn’t stop. No matter how he clenched his muscles, how rigidly he held his breath, for some reason there was no swallowing the—
Not here!
Rafe fled to the bathroom and slammed the door lock home, already feeling the torrent of heat swelling into his eyes, his throat. God, he was practically choking, and suddenly he was sobbing, and somehow he couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t keep from gasping out the desperate plea….
No. Not Beth.
Not this time.
Please!
There was no answer, which he already knew was the only possible response, but even so he begged with all his heart, with all his hope, knowing all the while that it wasn’t enough. Crying wouldn’t help, nothing helped, and he had to get himself together, get himself out of here, get back to the kind of strength he’d spent a lifetime building so this pain would never come back.
It was back now, though, worse than he remembered from the last time, although by now he knew how to fight it. Knew how to move, knew to flex his arms behind his back, to stop those bone-jarring gasps for breath and count five, ten, fifteen…
Seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five.
Two twenty, two twenty-five, two hundred thirty.
Counting as high as it took. That was the beginning, he knew, but real strength lay elsewhere. For real strength, he had to get out of here, he had to take care of someone. Anyone. Maybe some clients in the lobby, although he hadn’t heard anyone come in—and when he finally managed to square his shoulders and resolutely opened the bathroom door, the clinic was empty.
Okay. He could still get through this.
He knew what to do.
If there was nobody here, he’d try somewhere else. He could do it, Rafe knew. He’d done this before. Just find someone to look out for, somebody hurting or scared or—
Hurting. Right.
Anne.
Emergency, the cop had said, and she’d have to be at the hospital by now. So…
Okay. He locked the clinic door for the second time that morning and started for the dirt lot behind the building. Just move, just go. Protecting someone was the key to staying strong, and Beth’s sister was probably in bad shape right now.
So get going, Rafe ordered himself, stumbling blindly toward his car. Go, and you can get through this.
You can do this.
Go take care of Anne.
Chapter Two
“Anne? There’s someone here to see you.”
The soothing voice was familiar, although she couldn’t quite say why. Maybe she’d heard it this morning, or during the night, or—
Wait, was it morning?
Well, there seemed to be light somewhere, yes. And the light seemed familiar, as well, which must mean she was at home in—
In—
In bed, right, but why didn’t this feel like her bed? Her bed shouldn’t hurt, yet this one felt strangely painful. Like she’d been sleeping wrong, with her arm twisted backward and something burning her side. “Anne, would you like to visit with your brother-in-law today?”
The question sounded like it was meant for her, but did that mean she was Anne? The name seemed familiar, somehow, even more than the cajoling voice and the light creeping into her eyes….
“He’s been coming every day to see how you’re doing, and he keeps saying you’re not to worry about a thing—”
“Okay,” she murmured. Or at least she meant to say that, but her voice didn’t sound quite right. Still, it must have gotten through to the woman who was speaking, because she gave a delighted cry.
“You’re awake! Let me run tell Dr. Sibley. Now, you don’t have to see anyone until you’re ready, but I know your brother-in-law would be thrilled if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Okay,” she said again, and this time it sounded clearer—even though she still couldn’t quite sit up. “What… Uh, what…” She couldn’t quite think of what she wanted to ask, but something didn’t feel right.
“You’re in the hospital, sweetie. You’ve been here for eight days, and we were starting to get a little worried about you, but now you’re going to be just fine.”
The hospital? Had they taken her tonsils out? She remembered the hospital, with her sister in the next bed—oh, and they were laughing about something!—but that seemed like a long time ago. Eight days?
No, more than that.
“I’m going to send him in,” the woman announced, helping her to a sitting position that somehow rattled a tube in her arm. “You take all the time you want to get comfortable, and he’s certainly not going to expect any conversation, but if Dr. Sibley is on rounds you might as well have some company with you.”
“Okay.” She was getting pretty good at that one word, and it seemed to thrill the nurse—a nurse, right? Wearing a white uniform in a hospital, she had to be a nurse. And the way she backed out of the room, with a watchful eye all the way to the door, rang with the comfort of familiarity.
Even if everything else was mixed up right now, at least she could still recognize a nurse.
She didn’t recognize the man who came in next, though. Not a doctor, because he wore what she thought of as “lawyer” clothes—a conservative white shirt and gray suit, but with his tie and shirt collar loosened.
And he also wore a look of intense relief.
“Anne,” he greeted her, reaching for both her hands and giving them a surprisingly gentle squeeze. Maybe because of that metal thing bracing her arm, which she didn’t remember from the tonsil hospital. “You’re gonna be okay. Dr. Sibley said another few days here, maybe six weeks of physical therapy, and you’ll be good as new.”
He seemed so pleased about that, it must be good news. “Good,” she managed to answer. But it didn’t explain who this man was. “Um…are you the doctor?”
He reacted with a jolt of shock as he moved a plastic chair closer to her bedside, then she saw his startled expression replaced by something more careful. More calm.
“I’m Rafe Montoya,” he said, and hesitated. As if he was waiting for her to recognize the name. “Your sister’s husband.”
Her sister had a husband? She hadn’t remembered that from the tonsil hospital, either, but if her sister was married they must have left childhood behind them a long time ago. “Where is she?”
Even though the man retained that same relaxed demeanor, she saw a flash of pain in his eyes before he sat down and met her gaze again. “She isn’t here. You…you were pretty badly hurt.”
“I thought so,” she admitted, shifting away from whatever was pressing against her side. “I don’t feel right.”
He nodded, then reached across her to move something at the edge of her bed—which left her feeling a little more comfortable. “You and Beth,” he said slowly, “were in a train wreck.”
“Beth?” That name felt familiar, and from the way he spoke it, she could tell it belonged to someone he loved. “My sister?”
“Yeah. Anne, I’m sorry.” The nurse had called her that, too, which meant she must be Anne. And the combination of those names seemed to resonate within her, as if Anne and Beth belonged together. “I didn’t realize you— Everything’s kind of a blank, huh?”
Pretty much, but she hated to see this man so worried. Especially when he had his wife to worry about…although Beth must be all right by now, because otherwise her husband wouldn’t be here.
“No,” she assured him, “I remember having our tonsils out.” For some reason that memory was the clearest—maybe because this hospital smelled the same as that other one—but there were other images floating in her mind, as well. Playing with a dog, braiding each other’s hair, cutting out snowflakes… “Only it was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I guess it was.” He gazed at her for a moment, as if the sight of her face offered some curious mixture of nostalgia and regret, then gave her an apologetic smile. “Look, maybe you just need to concentrate on getting some rest. There’s a lot of people praying for you.”
“Really?” For some reason, she couldn’t think of anyone who’d do that except her sister, who ought to be arriving any minute…because somehow she had the feeling there was no other family in her life. No parents, no grandparents, no one but her sister.
And this man. Rafe.
Her sister’s husband.
“Yeah, well, Jake Roth—the guy who pulled you off the train?” Rafe seemed to think that phrase might trigger a memory, but again nothing came to mind. “He and his wife have been calling. And everybody in Chicago.”
Chicago. That sounded vaguely familiar, and she had an impression of a city skyline. Maybe on a calendar, or a postcard. “Is that here?”
“No, right now you’re in Tucson.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued, “That’s where Beth and I lived…uh, live.” But the falter in his voice spoke more vividly than his show of calm, and she knew there was something terribly wrong. “You and Beth were on vacation, and—”
“Is she okay?”
He hesitated, and she felt a sinking sensation inside her even before he met her gaze and said quietly, “Beth is…she’s gone.”
Gone? As in—
She must have flinched, made some kind of whimper, because he swiftly reached for her hands. “Anne, I’m sorry,” he blurted, then continued in a rush as if the right words delivered quickly enough could somehow ease the shock. “Everybody said it must’ve happened really fast, before the fire. She never knew what hit her.”
But that meant—
“Beth…my sister? She’s dead?”
Still holding her hands, he nodded. Just once, without looking up.
“Oh, no.” That couldn’t be. “No, she’s not.” Only a moment ago they’d been playing in the tonsil hospital, arranging paper dolls on their beds, and— “Not my sister!”
But his expression didn’t change, and she felt a new jolt of pain that eclipsed any other sensation. Her other self, her longest companion, the sister she’d shared her life with was gone?
No, she couldn’t lose her sister.
“I can’t—” she began, then stopped. Crying now would only make the pain worse, and she couldn’t bear that right now. “Oh, Rafe…”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, with a crack in his voice, and suddenly she realized that he must be hurting as much as herself. This ache, this sharp and hollow desolation, wasn’t solely her own…but how was anyone supposed to get through a loss like this?
She couldn’t think about it, that’s all. Surely the next time she woke up, her sister would be in the bed next to hers. All she had to do was sleep again, and everything would be fine.
Except somehow she knew it wouldn’t be. Maybe just because of his anguished expression, but—
