Good Hope Road (22 page)

Nate glanced at Drew with a cool expression. “Hey, Drew.”

“Hey, Nate.” Drew’s expression was a mirror of Nate’s—as if they didn’t know each other at all. “How’s your leg? You look a little better than when I saw you this morning.”

Nate rapped his knuckles against the cast. “Yeah. Don’t hurt so much now. Guess I better stay away from metal detectors for a while. They stuck a piece of number-five pipe in there and screwed the whole thing back together with toggle bolts.”

Nate grinned at me, and I chuckled, sniffing and wiping my eyes.

Drew maintained his serious expression. “Did they say you can get out of here today?”

“Shoot, they can’t wait to get rid of me.” Nate grinned, but kept his gaze on me, as if I had asked the question.

Drew didn’t react.

For just an instant, Nate looked a little hurt by that. His gaze wavered toward Drew, and his grin fell. He turned back to me, his blue eyes intense, questioning, desperate. “Did you see Daddy? Did you find out anything new? Darla’s been trying all day to get information, but they won’t hardly tell us anything.”

Drew stiffened at the mention of Darla’s name.

“We didn’t find out anything new,” I said, before the conversation could turn to Drew and Darla. “The nurse said he was a little better, but that’s about all we know. He was sleeping when we were there
.” His fingers closed around mine. He squeezed my hand.
“He didn’t wake up.”

“Y’all should of come earlier. Darla said maybe Daddy would have been calmer if someone he knew was with him.” He glared narrowly at Drew, as if that were Drew’s fault. Nate had learned to blame Drew for a lot of things. He’d learned that from me.

Drew shrugged, looking out the window, his eyes hard. “Darla’s not a nurse. She doesn’t know.” His eyes said the rest as he glared narrowly at Nate.
She doesn’t know Daddy.

Nate straightened in the bed and leaned forward, ready to fight right there in the hospital room. My body tensed and my stomach squeezed into a knot, just the way it always did when chaos was about to break loose in our family. I sat there, as usual, feeling small and powerless.

“Daddy said you probably wouldn’t come at all,” Nate goaded.

“Daddy’s full of crap,” Drew shot back. “I told him before I left this morning that I was coming back as soon as I found Jenilee. He was awake when I said it. He knew I was coming back.”

“That ain’t what he told me. He said—’‘

“Stop it!” I heard myself hiss, the words beating in my head like a drum. The other boys in the room turned to look at me. “Just stop it, both of you.”

Drew and Nate fell silent, staring at me openmouthed. “We’re not going to do this. We’re all finally together. Do you know how many people wish they could have their families together right now?” Bold with anger, I flailed a hand toward the door. “There’s a little boy downstairs with stitches in his head and John Doe on his tag, because they haven’t
found
his family yet.”

Bracing his hands on the bed frame, Drew let out a long breath, his head sagging forward. “Jenilee’s right.”

Nate crossed his arms over his chest and sank back against the pillows, like a pouting boy. “Sorry, Jen. He just ticks me off.”

“No, Nate, you
want
to get ticked off,” I spat. “You’re
trying
to pick a fight. It isn’t anything Drew did.”

“It’s
everything
Drew does.”

“Just shut up about it! Hush about Daddy, and hush about Darla. You’re just trying to make Drew mad.” Nate looked hurt, as if he thought I was choosing Drew over him. For so long, it had been just me and Nate, clinging to each other to keep from being swept under.

I leaned close, putting my forehead against his. “I’m sorry, Nate,” I whispered. “I don’t want to fight. I’m so sick of fighting.”

Nate shrugged away from me, then rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “I didn’t mean to start anything. I’m just uptight about Daddy. He ain’t doin’ good. He said he was really hurting, and I told the nurse that, and she wouldn’t give him anything else. He got mad and started pullin’ on those IV things.”

“He’s sleeping now,” I said. “It’s all right
.
”
When will it ever be all right? What would the picture of all right look like?

Nate nodded, wiping his eyes impatiently, turning toward the window because he didn’t want Drew to see him crying. “I just keep thinking that if I’d of gotten out of the truck sooner and gone for help . . . If I wouldn’t of sat there and waited for help . . . then Daddy . . . I should of gone for help sooner. By the time I got him here, his belly was so full of blood, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and . . .” He slammed a fist into the mattress, turning onto his side so that his back was to us. “It hurt too bad to get my leg out from under the seat, so I just sat there. I should of gotten out. . . .”

“Ssshhhhh,” I whispered, laying my hand on his arm. “You did the best you could.”

“No, I didn’t.” His words were hoarse, barely audible. “Daddy knows it and I know it.”

I wondered if Daddy had laid the blame on Nate, or if that was all in Nate’s mind. “That’s not true.” I felt Drew’s hand on my shoulder, his fingers trembling, as close as he dared come to touching Nate.

Nate shook his head violently against the pillow, as if he were trapped in the throes of a bad dream. “He tried to get me to go sooner, but I wouldn’t do it. I told him somebody would come get us out . . . and . . . and then he passed out, and I kept waiting. I should of yanked my leg out from under the seat and gone for help before I did.”

“Ssshhhh,” I whispered again. “You saved Daddy’s life. You did everything you could.”

Nate sank against the sheets. “That’s what Darla said.” He choked. “She was wrong, too.”

Drew’s shoulders softened, and he turned toward the door, rubbing his forehead. “We should get Nate out of here,” he said quietly. “I’ll go see about the paperwork and check on Daddy one more time.”

“All right.” I turned back to Nate, feeling the air touch my shoulder when Drew’s hand fell away. I shivered, even though the room was warm. Someone coughed in another bed, and I realized again that we were surrounded by people.

“You’ll feel better once we get you home.” I talked to Nate the way I did when he was a little boy and had the flu, or strep throat, or a stomach virus. Those were the only times Nate slowed down long enough to need affection. “The electric is still out, so no TV, but you can lie in your own bed. That’ll feel good, right?”

He didn’t answer, just wiped his face on the sheet and stared out the window, as if nothing I could say would help this time.

“Drew will be back in a minute, and we’ll go. The roads are probably in better shape by now.”

“I want to stay here with Daddy.”

My heart lurched. “You can’t stay here, Nate. The hospital needs the bed.”

“Someone needs to stay here with Daddy.”

Scrubbing my fingernails against my forehead, I tried to think of the right thing to say. “We can’t stay with Daddy. He’s still in ICU. They only let us in for a minute or two. The nurse said they gave him medication to keep him under until they see how he’s doing. The roads will be clear tomorrow, and Drew or I can come back. You can’t stay, Nate. You’re not in any shape for it. You need to get home and rest.”

Nate let out a long sigh, his shoulders going slack. “Will they call us if Daddy wakes up?”

“I’m sure they will. We’ll tell them to. It’ll be all right, Nate.”

I looked at my hands and wished I had the power to heal the injury inside Nate.

Just press a bandage to it. Press hard. Hold it long enough, and the blood will stop flowing.
Dr. Albright had said that to me when we were working in the armory. I doubted if even he knew how to bandage what was wrong with Nate.

 

 

C
heyenne tugged at my sleeve. I didn’t realize it until she pulled pretty hard. I looked away from the creek, where Toby was still jumpin’ in the shallows and Anna was following him around like a thirteen-year-old mother hen, reminding him he was only seven and couldn’t swim.

Cheyenne looked up at me with her little face too sober. “Did Daddy die in the tornado?” she asked.

The question stole my tongue.

Sitting alongside me, Christi clucked her lips. “Geez, Cheyenne. You’re such a baby. What a dumb question.”

I shook a finger at Christi. “You watch your tone, young lady. A nine-year-old girl ought not have such a smart mouth. Your little sister’s just worried about her daddy. That’s understandable.” I gathered Cheyenne in my arms and hugged her close, rocking her under my chin. “Your daddy’s fine, Sissy. He’s just been busy in town doin’ all he can to help folks, that’s all. That’s why he hasn’t been home.”

Cheyenne puffed a breath through her nose. “He oughta come home.”

“Oh, he will.” I noticed that Anna and Toby had stopped playing and come to the shore, so they could hear the answer to the question, too.

I thought for a minute before I said anything. I didn’t want to tell them that their daddy was helping to dig through the rubble, and, yes, it was dangerous. “He was home for a little while that first night, and then he was gone again early in the morning
.
”
I asked him not to go. I’m ashamed of it, but I did.
I kissed the top of Cheyenne’s damp hair. “He kissed you just like that.”

Cheyenne wiggled loose and craned her neck to look at me, her lips twisted to one side. “I didn’t
feel
anything.”

Anna piped up, her tone sweeter than her younger sister’s. “You were asleep, silly. Daddy left early this morning before you got up.”

“Did
you
see him?” Cheyenne asked her sister, sounding doubtful.

“Yes, I saw him.” Anna met my eyes and winked, like she was keeping a secret.

Cheyenne puffed out another sigh and leaned against me, burrowing under my chin. She looked down the creek at Lacy, who was writing on a piece of shale with a wet finger and watching the letters slowly fade. By herself, like she usually was.

“Is Lacy’s daddy ever coming home?” Cheyenne asked, too quiet for Lacy to hear.

“Hush.” I couldn’t bear to think about Cass, or what the future might bring.

“Of course Lacy’s daddy’s comin’ back,” Anna said, with the certainty of a thirteen-year-old. “Uncle Cass just has to get things worked out. That’s all.”

“How come Uncle Cass don’t ever come around?” Toby piped up, his brown eyes so innocent as he asked such a complicated question.

I gazed at Lacy, her face reflecting the sun’s glow on the water, her dark hair swirling on the afternoon breeze, and guilt heaped on me. If Cass hadn’t done what he did, we wouldn’t have Lacy.

The sound of a truck pulling into the driveway rattled the afternoon quiet. The four kids hopped to their feet and scampered up the hill.

“Daddy!” I heard them scream. “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!”

Praise God
, I thought.
Praise God
.

Down the creek bank, Lacy watched the other kids go, her soft eyes filled with a silent yearning that broke my heart.

“Come on, Lacy,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go up and see Uncle Weldon.” I stretched a hand out to her, even though I knew she wouldn’t take it.

She stood up and wrapped her arms around herself, all the comfort she wanted. She followed me up the hill like a shadow, stopping when we got close to the knot of kids clamoring around Weldon like hungry pups.

I held out my hand again. “Come on, love. It’s all right. Come see Uncle Weldon for a minute.”

Lacy stared at Weldon, her brows knotting in thought. I wondered if she was thinking about how much Weldon looked like her daddy. Cass was younger, but they both looked like their father. Same straw brown hair, same hazel-green eyes. Sometimes I wondered if Lacy looked at Weldon and thought he was her daddy. Sometimes she would almost go to him.

She turned away, as usual. Stepping back to the fork in the walkway, she took the path to the house instead of the one to the driveway.

I walked on over to Weldon.

He was patting the kids on their heads, watching Lacy go. “She’s still not any better?” It was a question that didn’t really beg an answer. He knew the answer just by looking at her.

“A little, maybe,” I lied. “She did talk today, to old June Jaans of all people, if you can believe that. He was showing her cat’s cradle.”

Weldon rubbed the unshaven stubble on his chin. “That’s a little something, anyway. We’ll get her to a doctor next week, when things are back to normal. It’s been a traumatic forty-eight hours.”

Just forty-eight hours? Only that long?
“How are things in town?”

“Better now.” He rolled his head back and forth, stretching his neck. “There’s been a National Guard unit come in to help with the search and rescue at the lake. They’ve taken charge out there. The guard transports have carried all the serious injury cases to hospitals. Just bumps, bruises, sprained ankles, that kind of thing, are left at the armory. And some old folks who can’t go home without someone to take care of them. And, of course, there are still people in the tents who don’t have homes to go to.”

“Still a lot of people camped out there in the tents?” I asked. “I should probably go down there and help with handing out suppers.”

Weldon frowned, looking at his feet, trying to come up with the words to say something he knew I wouldn’t like. I could always tell when he was working up the guts to do that. Mamas know.