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“How old is this spare?” Noah continued moments later, thrusting his other thoughts back into the dark recesses of his mind. He glanced at his watch. Twenty after ten. Good thing he’d decided to tape his regular late night shows since seeing them at their regularly scheduled time wasn’t an option anymore.
“Five years. Probably as old as the car. Why?” Ruth drew her eyebrows together.
“It may not get you home, and you look ready to drop. How far away do you live?” Noah wrestled with his conscience and scraped a hand through his hair. If her spare blew, she’d be stranded along the road. Not an option. Even in the dim light filtering down from the streetlamp, he could see the fatigue shadowing the delicate skin under her eyes.
“About ten miles from here. How do you know I may not get home? I see people drive around with these all the time.”
“Experience. I’ll follow you.” Michelle had had a similar incidence occur early in their marriage. Plus Noah’s mother would have his hide if she found out he let Ruth drive home without making sure she made it safely.
“That’s really not necessary.”
“It is. I’ll be right behind you. Don’t take the freeway or drive over forty-five miles an hour. And here. My cell is listed on my card in case you have any other problems.”
Ruth bristled but accepted Noah’s business card. His attitude reminded her of her older brothers. Which, in the stillness of the late evening, might not be such a bad thing after all.
Weariness bit into her body as she drove home, making sure to follow Noah’s advice. If her spare blew, she’d have no transportation at all, and she didn’t want to rely on his services again. She couldn’t wait for a nice, long hot bath and that pint of ice cream to soothe her muscles. If only it would do something to soothe her mind. The pain written in Noah’s eyes followed her all the way from the parking lot like the real Noah did in his white truck. There, but not there.
On autopilot, she turned down the darkened street illuminated by overhead streetlights where her small three-bedroom house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac. The one-story slump block house in an older area of Scottsdale was too big for just herself, but something about it had fulfilled a need inside her.
Her headlights caught the neighbor’s black and white cat as it ran across the street and on to her front porch. Great. Why couldn’t the cat find another place to hide? Like under her other neighbor’s Camaro that he always left parked in front of her house.
Stifling a yawn, she pushed the garage door opener. As she waited, she stared at the tiny porch almost hidden by the overgrown fuchsia bougainvilleas planted on either side. Tomorrow she’d do a much-needed trim session on all her plants and trees and try to work off the feelings brought to the surface by Noah Barton.
By doing something productive, she could retain some semblance of order. Unlike Noah’s attitude, her sister’s death or all the sick children in the hospital waiting for her to bring them a transplant, Ruth had the power to control her yard, her laundry and even her emotions.
Somewhat. She’d forgotten to finish the laundry she’d started the other day. Before she pulled into her garage, she opened her window, mouthed a thank-you and waved goodbye. Noah’s headlights flashed across the exterior of her house as he slowly rounded the cul-de-sac before driving away.
Once inside the kitchen, she flipped on the lights, dropped her bag on the table, placed her uneaten dinner in the refrigerator and then scooped up the mail she’d overlooked yesterday. Then she headed for the phone. She’d been gone all day. Even a friendly sales call message would be welcome right about now.
The quiet didn’t usually bother her, but with the memories of Rachel and Bonnie hovering near the surface, the stillness brought home the fact that something was missing out of her life. Burying the need for a companion with work and volunteering wasn’t working as well as it had before. Her “one day” had changed to “today.” She wanted a partner. A husband. A child or two to cuddle. She wanted someone to hang out with after work. Someone to talk over her day with. Someone to commiserate with.
God was there for her and always would be, but suddenly she wanted more than a one-sided conversation. Ruth bowed her head in shame. So what if the Lord didn’t talk back to her in words. She felt His comfort and His love all the time. He would never forsake her or fail her like others around her had.
Feeling better, she flipped her hair into a knot at the base of her neck, wandered into her dark kitchen and flipped the light switch. She thought about Noah.
Another Mr. Wrong.
Ruth grasped the freezer door and pulled. Much to her disappointment, only some waffles, a bag of frozen peas and a few ice trays resided inside. She wrinkled her nose when she realized she’d eaten her last pint a few nights ago. After smacking the door shut with her hip, she filled the teakettle with water and turned on the gas burner.
Her thoughts wandered to Noah again as she keyed her way to her voice mail. Unlike David, at least Noah didn’t lie or misrepresent himself about his beliefs. Even until the end, Ruth had believed David had been as committed to the Lord as her until she found out differently.
Five minutes and seven messages later, Ruth kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet underneath her as she sat on her oversized toffee-colored couch. The cup of tea she’d brewed sat on the distressed hardwood coffee table. Her gaze scanned the contents of her mail—bills, what looked like an invitation and a few credit card solicitations.
Her hand stilled on the society magazine she kept forgetting to cancel. Out of habit, she glanced through pictures of the “Who’s Who?” of Phoenix. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she stared at the picture of David with his new bride.
Betrayal stabbed her. Ruth squeezed her eyes shut and blindly reached for her cordless phone. Obviously David had no problem committing to another woman; it was just Ruth he had a problem with.
Tilting her head back to rest against the cool leather, she dialed her older sister’s number and waited. Karen had always had a knack of knowing when one of her siblings needed to talk. Tonight was no exception as Ruth returned her sister’s call. A night owl herself, Ruth knew her sister wouldn’t mind the late hour talk.
“Hi, Ruth, you’re up late. Work? Or are you seeing someone new?” Her sister’s chipper voice carried through the line, reminding Ruth of an earlier time and place. Back in the family fold. Safe and secure without a care in the world.
“David’s married.” Ruth paced to the laundry room and pulled out the wrinkled whites.
The pause on the other end of the line fed into the insecurities that had resurfaced today. Ruth wrapped strands of hair around her forefinger as her teeth bit her bottom lip.
“Good riddance.” Karen seethed.
“What?” Ruth pulled the phone from her ear and let Karen rant. Her sister’s anger surprised her. Of all her siblings, Karen was the most even-tempered of the bunch.
“I never liked him. And how he treated you—”
Instead of shifting the dank smelling, damp clothes from the washer into the dryer, Ruth decided to rewash them as she tried to pacify her suddenly fiery sister. “Karen, stop. I’m sorry I upset you. Forget I mentioned it.”
Her sister ignored her words. “What’s his phone number again? I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”
“That’s not necessary.” The gnawing in Ruth’s stomach intensified as she twisted the knob into position and pulled it out to start the cycle. Then she dragged the basket of whites she’d pulled from the dryer back to the living room.
She stared at the picture of her and her two brothers and two remaining sisters sitting on the fireplace mantel. Tall, dark and thin, Karen resembled their father more than their mother, who Ruth favored, with her fuller figure and blond hair.
As usual, Ruth was stuck in the middle. The same as her birth order. But that wasn’t the reason for her position in the picture. Her siblings crowded her to protect her as they hadn’t been able to protect Rachel. “I can fight my own battles now.”
Her sister protested. “But it’s something we’ve always done.”
Ruth’s fingers tightened on the phone. It only took a phone call to undo the progress she made over the years away from her family. “I know, and I appreciate it. But I’m not a baby anymore. And I’m not going to die like Rachel.”
The silence drained her further.
“Listen. Please don’t say anything to the family about David, okay? I’m over it. He has a right to start a new life just as I have.”
Her sister’s sudden lack of words freaked Ruth out, and if she’d had any energy left, she’d be pacing the room.
“Right. I love you and I just want you to know that I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. Call me anytime. Day or night.” Karen’s soft voice reached out through the telephone.
“Thanks, Karen.”
“Now to get back to my question. Were you working or are you seeing someone new?”
Ruth dropped back down on the sofa. “Work. “
“You work too hard. Check out that single’s group at the church you told me about. Live a little. Have some fun. The best thing for you to do is to start seeing someone else.”
“Work is my life. You know that, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll see what activities are scheduled for next month.” But she knew she was only saying those words to pacify her sister. Still, her voice hitched as an image of Noah Barton appeared in her mind’s eye. Heat crept to her cheeks at the thought of the pilot.
The man was all wrong for her. A wounded hero with tons of baggage like herself. Yet she couldn’t ignore his anguish and pain. Her nurturing side instinctively took over, and despite the fact the pilot didn’t like her career, Ruth found herself wanting to help him.
Her fingers grabbed the colorful striped pillow, and she clutched it to her chest. A stuffed piece of fabric was a far cry from holding another human being in her arms.
“Look, it’s late and I’m tired, Karen. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Bye.”
After hanging up the phone, Ruth plumped the pillow and set it back down on the sofa. Then she picked up her tea. She took a sip and stared at the haphazard stack of magazines under her coffee table. The pile of laundry waiting to be folded mocked her. The basket of yarn with two needles poking out screamed amateur over her lame attempt to knit a scarf for her niece. Her life and job had descended into chaos. Starting tomorrow Ruth would get everything organized and tidy, but right now she needed some sleep.
“Hi, Ruth. Glad to see you today.” Mrs. Olson, the elderly woman who usually volunteered every weekday afternoon until eight at the reception desk in the Children’s Center in the Agnes P. Kingfisher Memorial Hospital in central Scottsdale, pushed the visitor registration clipboard across the counter.
“Hi, Mrs. Olson, what are you doing here today? Where’s Margaret Ann? I thought she was due back this week?” Ruth signed her name and grabbed a visitor badge from the basket next to the vase filled with silk flowers.
Concern etched into the retired nurse’s numerous wrinkles. “She’s come down with a staph infection from her hip replacement surgery. Keep her in your prayers for a speedy recovery.”
Disquiet settled across Ruth before she shook it off. The other elderly volunteer was probably healthier than she was. Margaret Ann would be okay, but Ruth would put out a prayer request nonetheless. “I certainly will. So how’s my favorite patient doing?”
“Little Marissa’s been asking for you all day.” Mrs. Olson pulled her reading glasses from her nose and let them hang from the brightly beaded holder. Her faded blue eyes softened and filled with moisture. “Some days are better than others. Today is one of the good ones. I know she and the rest of the kids will be happy to see you.”
Ruth’s stomach relaxed as she pinned the badge to her blouse. Her gaze skimmed the scenic photos that lined the walls of the foyer and the potted plants stationed by the door. Today they brought a measure of comfort. Five-year-old Marissa was declining rapidly while waiting for a new heart. Each day she remained on Earth was a blessing to her parents, and the staff, and to the lives of the people Marissa touched. “That’s terrific. She wasn’t doing so well when I saw her on Wednesday.”
“Things have changed.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Olson. She’ll be my first stop then.” Ruth stepped away from the counter and headed toward the elevator that would take her to the fourth floor. The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. With a final wave and smile to the woman now talking on the phone, Ruth stepped into it.
A few minutes later, the soothing light blue colored walls greeted Ruth as she walked down the hallway toward the playroom where the head nurse had told her most of the kids were waiting—Marissa included. The heels of her sandals clicked an odd beat against the linoleum floor.
Outside room 401 she saw an empty wheelchair. Poking her head through the darkened threshold, she spied the carefully made bed and the unadorned walls and missing trophies and photo frames. A smile lit her lips. The doctors had finally released Johnny Trueblood.
Continuing down the hallway, she saw a towheaded child poke her head back inside the large room at the end of the hall, and soon the sound of giggles erupted the stillness. No chance of making a surprise entrance tonight.
Ruth breathed in the underlying smell of antiseptic and the silent urgency of the staff. They did their best along with the patient’s families to let the children lead as normal of a life as possible while in the hospital, but they only had so much time, which is where the network of volunteers was so essential. Not that Ruth minded one bit. She loved her time with the children whether it was reading books to the younger patients, playing games with the older ones or even helping with homework.
She stepped through the door of the room that took up the entire north side of the building and onto the dark, green carpeting meant to resemble grass that complemented the continuous park scene painted on the walls.
Ruth found herself engulfed in the arms of those children able to walk. Others sat in wheelchairs by the big windows, grins on their faces and love shining from their eyes. She couldn’t imagine being anywhere else today. Not when she had a roomful of children who needed her and fulfilled her. Her gaze strayed to the little girl wearing a bright pink bandanna over her patchy hair. “Hi, Marissa. I hear you’re feeling better today. I’m so glad.”
“Yep.” The olive-skinned girl gave Ruth one of her sunny smiles. “Did you find me a new heart yet?”
Ruth’s smile dimmed. She knew better than to raise false hopes in Marissa or the few others waiting for a transplant. Not that every child here was. Some had cancer; others were recovering from accidents and two had transferred from the burn unit, but those who were waiting or recovering were her favorites. She just wished she could do more to help them.
“Not yet, sweetie, but I’m still looking. It has to be perfect. Just like you.” Ruth tweaked the girl’s nose.
“Can I sit on your lap tonight then?”
“Sure thing. As long as you share blankie with me.”
“Hi, Ruth. Back again so soon?” Edina Murphy rocked her sleeping granddaughter in her arms.
“Yep. Nothing can keep me away from my little angels.” Ruth tousled Carlos Ramirez’s soft, dark brown hair as he held onto her leg.
“Go pick out your favorite stuffed animal and meet me by the reading chair, sweetie. Everyone else, too.” Ruth bent down and pried off Carlos’ arms from around her leg.
The woman tsked. “It’s Saturday night. You should be out having fun, meeting a special man and having kids of your own.”
“Now, I thought we’d discussed this before, Edina. I don’t have time for a special man in my life right now. I have my work and my kids here,” Ruth replied as she walked over to the big bookshelves that dominated the far wall next to the small computer area.
Her thoughts continued to drift back to Noah Barton as her fingers pulled a few children’s books from the small kids section.
“Well, you’re sure not going to meet him here, that’s for sure, unless I can convince my handsome neighbor to come visit, but his schedule is as crazy as yours. I don’t know what is with you kids today.”
“When the good Lord is willing, I’ll meet that special someone. But until then, I’ve got everything I need right here.” Ruth sank down into the big, comfortable mauve chair and kicked off her sandals. Then she patted her lap for Marissa to join her.
Once the bony little girl with her pink blanket, Carlos and the other kids settled, Ruth opened Marissa’s favorite book about a village girl and a beast and how love transformed them.
But it was just a fairy tale. Ruth didn’t fully buy into the “happily ever after.”
In the office early Monday afternoon, Noah tipped back on the back legs of his chair. He stared at Brad, with whom he shared the cramped room, sitting at the next desk over. “I’m taking myself off rotation for the AeroFlight calls.”
Noah tilted the bottle of soda he’d grabbed from the supply refrigerator to his lips and drank. Above him, muted fluorescent bulbs cast cool light across Brad’s features.
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.” Noah refused to go on another organ recovery mission. Let Brad or Seth take it. He didn’t need any more memories brought about by ferrying a bunch of medical personnel around. Especially one Ruth Fontaine, who had worked her way under his skin like a sliver.
Brad stared at him long and hard as he played with the pen in his fingers. “We need the AeroFlight contract and about five others to keep us in business. I can’t do it all myself. That’s not what we agreed to.”
“But I didn’t sign that contract. You did.”
Brad threw the pen across his desk. When he stood, his chair crashed into the off-white wall, the sound reverberating in Noah’s skull. “You’ve been the one nagging about business. I go out and get a decent contract and now you’re complaining.”
Houston jumped up from underneath Noah’s feet, skittered around the desk and cowered behind their office manager, Hannah Stevenson, who now stood in the doorway. He and Brad counted on her to run an efficient office, and she in turn counted on them to keep a roof over her and her young son’s head.
“Are you guys okay in here?” The pale, delicate-looking redhead asked.
“We’re fine. Just discussing a little business,” Brad responded. “How are you doing today? You look nice.”
Noah noticed his office manager blushed easily like another woman he’d recently met. A woman who had no reason to intrude on his thoughts today.
Hannah’s eyebrows skimmed her bangs as her lips twisted into a hesitant smile. “I’m fine, thank you. Okay then. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Once Hannah retreated to the front room, Noah pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the nightmare at bay. “But why AeroFlight? Why did you have to contract with them?”
Brad walked over and clasped Noah’s arm. “It kills me to see you like this. You think you’re living, but you’re not. I’ve watched you suffer for three years. Please. Let Michelle and Jeremy rest. AeroFlight is a wonderful organization and provides a necessary service.”
Noah drew back. Raw anger threatened to crush the last piece of sanity he’d struggled to hold on to. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive Brad. “You sound like Ruth.”
“Try and see the positive for once.” Brad continued.
“What positive? You’ve been my friend for fifteen years. You were my best man. You were there when Jeremy was born. You met me at the hospital when they brought Michelle and Jeremy in after the accident. You helped with the funeral arrangements.”
A tear slipped down Noah’s cheek.
His tight fisted hand pushed it away.
“What positive, Westberry? Answer me.”
