The Christmas Wish, page 29
The door to Marjorie’s room was open, and the sounds out in the hall drifted in as Ava was adjusting the drip in Marjorie’s IV. So when the staccato sound of metal-tipped boots drifted inside, they all looked toward the doorway.
The stride was heavy, likely male—steady and measured, like someone who knew where he was going. The sound was growing louder, and they kept watching, curious to see who it was who was passing by at this time of night.
Then all of a sudden there was a man in the doorway, dressed in biker leather and carrying a helmet. He glanced at them without acknowledgment, then went straight to the bed where Marjorie was lying.
Ava’s heart began to pound. Hunt Knox had just walked in, and the years since she’d seen him last had been more than kind. His face was leaner, his features sharper. He was taller and more muscular, and his dark hair was longer, hanging over the collar of his leather jacket, but his eyes were still piercing—and unbelievably blue.
She forgot what she was doing and stared as he approached. It took her a few seconds to realize he didn’t recognize her.
“Ma’am. I’m Hunt Knox, her oldest son. Is she conscious?”
“Not ma’am, Hunt. It’s me, Ava Ridley. And to answer your question, she’s in and out of consciousness. You can talk to her if you want.”
Hunt’s eyes widened. He was trying to see the young girl he remembered in this pretty woman’s soft voice and dark eyes.
“Sorry. You grew up some. I wouldn’t have recognized you,” Hunt said. “Is she in pain?”
“Doctor is managing that for her,” Ava said.
When his four siblings finally came out of their shock, Junior stood up.
“Where did you come from? How did you know?” he asked.
Hunt turned, staring until they ducked their heads and looked away, then shifted focus back to his mother. She had wasted away to nothing but skin and bones. Disease did that to a body. He put his helmet aside and reached for her hand.
“Mom…it’s me, Hunt. I came home, just like you asked.” He waited, and just when he thought she was too far gone to hear, he felt her squeeze his fingers. Relief swept through him. He wasn’t too late after all. “I’m sorry it took so long for your message to reach me, but I’m here now.”
Her eyes opened. He knew she recognized him. Her lips were moving, but she didn’t have enough lung capacity to breathe and talk at the same time.
Finally, she got out one word.
“Sorry,” and then, “love.”
Everything within him was shattering, but it didn’t show. He’d just as soon shoot himself as reveal weakness.
“It’s okay, Mom. I love you, too. I made you a promise and I’ll keep it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was out of the state for a while and didn’t get your last letter until I got back, but I’m here now and I’ll take care of everything you wanted.”
Marjorie’s eyelids fluttered.
Hunt waited.
His siblings stood and moved around the bed, waiting. They hadn’t seen her respond to anything in days, and all of a sudden, she was conscious. Then her lips parted.
They leaned closer, not wanting to miss a moment of her last words.
Then she said, “Hunt.”
“I’m here, Mom. I’m right here,” Hunt said, and gently squeezed her hand. “I’ll do what you asked.”
Her lips parted again. “Promise?”
He leaned over and spoke softly, near her ear.
“I promise. I’m here now. You’re free to go.”
Marjorie exhaled. The light was brighter, and there was no longer a weight on her heart. She let go of her son and let God take her home.
Now all four siblings were staring in disbelief, wondering what the hell just happened. Their mother had been hanging on to life like this for almost a week, and the prodigal son walked in and told her it was okay to go. And she died? Just like that?
Ava was trying to find a pulse, but it was gone.
Marjorie’s heartbeat had flatlined on the monitor.
Emma’s voice rose an octave. “Is she dead?”
Tears were rolling down Junior’s face, and Ray was wiping his eyes.
Birdie, the youngest daughter, covered her face and started to weep.
Moments later an RN came hurrying into the room. She felt for a pulse, then looked up at the clock.
“Time of death, 1:15 a.m.”
There were tears on Ava’s cheeks.
“I’m so sorry. My sympathies to all of you.”
Emma hugged her. “Thank you for taking such good care of Mama,” she said.
Hunt had yet to speak to any of his siblings, and was still holding on to his mother’s hand. He knew they were gathering up their things and walking out of the room, but he had nothing to say to any of them now. That would come later.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Ava.
“I’m so sorry, Hunt, but grateful you made it. At the last, you were all she talked about.”
“Thank you for taking care of her,” he said, then let go of his mother’s hand, picked up his helmet, and walked out.
Ava had heard pain in the pitch of his voice, but he did not need her concern or her care. Losing a patient was the hardest part of being a nurse, but in this instance, Ava was at peace. Marjorie Knox had suffered a long time. She was no longer sick or in pain, and that was a blessing.
Hunt was on his way back up the hall when he saw his siblings getting in the elevator. He pictured them standing in the lobby downstairs, waiting for him to come down next, and took the stairwell instead.
***
He was already out in the parking lot and on his Harley as they finally walked out of the building. They watched him ride away without acknowledging any of them.
“Well, dammit, there he goes,” Ray said.
“Did any of you ever know where Hunt went when he left town?” Birdie asked.
“I didn’t,” Emma said.
“Me either,” Junior said, while Ray shook his head.
“Mama must have known,” Birdie said.
The others looked at each other in silence, finding it hard to believe that the mother they’d taken for granted had kept a secret like that for so long, but the three of them knew why.
“I wonder what Mama asked him to do?” Junior said.
“What do you mean?” Ray asked.
Junior frowned. “You heard him. He told Mama he’d keep his promise and do what she asked him to do.”
“Oh yeah,” Ray said.
“I wonder where he’s going?” Junior asked. “Do you think he’s going to stay at Mama’s house?”
Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you drive by the house on your way home and see if he’s there. If he thinks he’s gonna just move in, he has another think coming. I want to—”
“What you want and what’s going to happen are two different things,” Junior said. “There are four of us standing here.”
“But there are five heirs,” Birdie said. “Whatever money comes from selling Mama’s house will be divided five ways, not four. The house is old. It’s not going to bring anything worth fighting over.”
“Nothing is worth fighting over,” Ray said.
Emma glared at all of them. “We’ve already talked about Mama’s funeral and stuff, and there’s just enough money in Mama’s bank account to bury her and nothing more. Let’s go home and get some rest.”
“Did Mama leave a will?” Birdie asked.
They all stopped.
“I don’t know,” Emma said.
Junior shrugged. “I don’t either.”
“How do we find out?” Ray asked.
“Maybe Hunt knows. He already knows something about Mama that we don’t know,” Birdie said.
“I’m going home. If you want to know where Hunt is at, go look for him yourself,” Junior muttered.
Ray got in his car and left, and Junior did the same.
Emma ignored him. “I’m sad Mama is gone, but I’m glad she’s not suffering.” Then she glanced at Birdie. “I wonder where Hunt’s been all these years.”
“I don’t know, but he sure turned into a good-looking man,” Birdie said.
***
Hunt rolled up to the bed-and-breakfast as quietly as he could manage on a Harley, cognizant of the other guests who were likely asleep. He locked up his bike, grabbed his bag and helmet, then headed to the door and rang the bell.
Bud Goodhope was still up and waiting for their last guest to arrive, and when he heard the doorbell, he hurried through the hall to answer the door.
“Welcome to Blessings Bed and Breakfast,” Bud said.
Hunt nodded. “I’m Hunt Knox. I have a reservation.”
“Yes, come in, Mr. Knox. I’ll get you registered and show you to your room. You must be exhausted.”
A short while later, Hunt was taken upstairs and given a room at the end of the hall.
“It’s quieter back here,” Bud said. “Breakfast will be served from 6:00 to 10:00 a.m. If you need anything, just press seven on the house phone and either my wife, Rachel, or I will answer.”
“Thanks,” Hunt said. “Right now, all I want is a shower and a bed.”
“Then rest well,” Bud said as he put Hunt’s bag on the bed. “We’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”
Hunt locked the door, put his jacket and helmet on a chair, then sat down and took off his boots. The room was well-appointed and had a warm, homey feel. It had been a long time since he’d been in a place like this.
He poked around and found a basket of individually bagged, homemade chocolate chip cookies, as well as a mini-fridge of cold drinks. He hadn’t eaten since noon, and it was already tomorrow, so he chose a cookie and a cold Coke and ate to dull the empty feeling in his belly.
When he was finished, he stripped and walked into the bathroom. The full-length mirror reflected the milestones life had left on his body. The scars of war weren’t just within him. Some, like the thin silver ropes left from wounds that had healed, were visible, too.
He turned the water as hot as he could stand it to loosen tired muscles, and then washed his hair before he washed himself. By the time he got out, all he could think about was crawling between clean sheets and sleeping for a week. But there’d be no sleeping in. He’d come a long way to keep a promise, and it wasn’t going to be accomplished by staying in bed.
***
Ava’s shift ended at 7:00 a.m.
Normally, she would be looking forward to a little breakfast and then sleep, but Hunt Knox was on her mind as she headed home. She wondered if he was married—if he had children—where he lived—what he did. But it appeared she wasn’t the only one in the dark. From the little she’d overheard, his brothers and sisters didn’t know, either. Again she wondered what had happened to drive such a rift within their family, and what promise he’d made to his mother before she died.
Ava was still thinking about him as she pulled up beneath the carport. The morning was cold and the sky appeared overcast. But weather wasn’t going to affect her day. She let herself in and then went through the house, leaving her coat in the front closet and her purse on the hall table.
Getting out of her uniform was always paramount. It went straight to the laundry, then she went to the bathroom to shower. The ritual of washing all over was both a physical and an emotional cleansing—leaving behind all of the sadness and sickness of the patients she’d cared for last night to the capable hands of the day shift.
She was off for the next two days, and then she would be going back on days. She hadn’t minded filling in while one of the nurses had been out of town for a family funeral, but she was ready to go back on her regular shift in the ER.
As soon as she was out and dry, she put on her pj’s, switched her laundry to the dryer, ate a bowl of cereal while standing at the sink, then crawled into bed. She was still thinking of Hunt Knox when she fell asleep.
***
Rachel Goodhope met their latest guest when he came down for breakfast. She hadn’t seen him in biker gear, but he cut a fine figure in the black Levi’s and the gray chambray shirt he was wearing. He hung a black leather coat over the back of a chair, set a biker helmet in the seat of the chair beside him, and then went to the buffet.
“Welcome to Blessings,” Rachel said, and added a fresh batch of crisp bacon to a near-empty chafing dish.
“Thank you,” Hunt said. “Everything looks good.”
“Enjoy,” she said. “If you want something to drink other than hot tea or coffee, just let me know.”
“This is fine,” Hunt said. “Oh…can you tell me where Butterman Law Office is located?”
“Sure. He has an office in a building directly across from the courthouse. There’s a sign out front. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” Hunt said, and began filling his plate.
Rachel went back to the kitchen to take a batch of hot biscuits out of the oven. She put them on a counter beneath a heat lamp to keep them warm and was going to bake up some more waffles when her cell phone rang. She wiped her hands and then answered.
“Hello, this is Rachel.”
“Good morning, Rachel. This is Ruby. I’m on the church calling committee, so I’m giving you a heads-up about an upcoming funeral.”
“Oh no! Who died?” Rachel asked.
“Marjorie Knox finally passed, bless her heart,” Ruby said.
“Oh, of course! I heard they’d called in the family,” Rachel said, and then gasped. “Oh! Oh my! I didn’t put two and two together until now. We had a guest sign in really, really early this morning. His name is Hunter Knox. I’ll bet he’s family.”
Ruby gasped. “Oh my word! That’s the oldest son! He disappeared right after high school and never came back.”
“Well, he’s here now,” Rachel said. “And a fine-looking man he is, too.”
“I hope he made it in time to see Marjorie,” Ruby said.
“He just asked me where Peanut’s office is,” Rachel said.
“I don’t know if Peanut will be in the office or not, since it’s a holiday. I guess time will tell how this all plays out,” Ruby said. “In the meantime, just giving you a heads-up about a family dinner at church in the near future.”
“Noted,” Rachel said. “I’ve got to make some more waffles. I’ll talk to you later.”
“And I have more people to call,” Ruby said. “I’ll be in touch.”
***
Hunt ate his fill of eggs, biscuits, and gravy, then went back for waffles. He was making up for having gone so long without real food and had no idea what the day would bring, so eating what was in front of him seemed like a good idea.
He’d reserved the room here for at least a couple of nights, until he had a chance to check out his mother’s house. If it was habitable enough to stay in while he repaired it, he’d stay there. Once it was fixed, it would be up to him to see to the auction and pay outstanding bills.
When he’d received her letter, Hunt had been shocked to find out his mother had named him the executor of her estate. Even though they’d stayed in touch, she never mentioned his brothers and sisters, and with good reason. She knew he wouldn’t care. By the time the letter caught up with him, the postmark was almost two weeks old, and the date on the letter she’d written was a month before that. When she confessed her days were numbered, he panicked and called her, but never got an answer. The thought that she would die without knowing he would do what she’d asked had sent him on a wild sixteen-hour ride from Houston to Blessings. He knew now she’d been waiting for him to come. She’d trusted him enough to wait. Now it was up to him to do the job.
Chapter 2
Hunt went back up to his room after breakfast. He had the lawyer’s number in his mother’s letter. He didn’t think anyone would be at work today, but he sent a text anyway, just in case.
It wasn’t long before he got a response.
I’ll be in the office until noon. You’re welcome to drop in at any time.
Hunt returned the text.
I’ll be there soon. Thank you.
At that point, he put on his jacket, grabbed his helmet, and left the B and B. He knew his brothers and sisters were going to be pissed that she’d given the control of her estate to him, but he didn’t care. They’d betrayed him years ago. He owed them nothing, and certainly not respect.
He felt the curious stares as he rode down Main Street, and couldn’t help but remember the day he left Blessings. Back then, no one even noticed he was leaving, because they would have assumed he would be back. The memory was as vivid now as it was the day it happened.
***
It was the day he was supposed to leave for college when all hell broke loose. By the time the fight was over, his world and his future had been destroyed—betrayed by his own family.
His mother didn’t know he was gone or what had happened until she came back from dropping Birdie off at school and found her family in an uproar. She began begging them all to tell the truth about what happened, but Emma, Junior, and Ray clammed up, and his father, Parnell, told his wife the same thing he’d told Hunt.
“What was done was done, so get over it.”
What none of them knew was that Hunt left the house and went straight to Savannah to an army recruitment office and signed up. After testing revealed an aptitude for flying, he went from high school to flight school, and was still in flight school when the United States invaded Iraq.
His first deployment was to Fallujah, flying Apache helicopters, and for the next seven years, he went wherever he was deployed. He was shot at nearly every time he flew out—but somehow always managed to get back. He was fighting a war he didn’t fully understand, running from a betrayal he couldn’t forget.
And then the inevitable happened. After all those years of taking fire and limping back to base, they were shot down.
