Magnolia Storms Page 4

  “Don’t worry about J.D. He’s my responsibility, and I’ll figure something out. I’ve got two weeks.” But he had no idea what he’d do.

  “Where is his mother?” Her jaw tightened as she lifted her gaze to meet his.

  A loaded question with a tough answer. “She’s remarried and living in Nevada with her new husband. A casino executive. Parenting wasn’t for her.”

  “As if that’s a choice?” The fire returned to Maggie’s eyes.

  Bitterness uprooted from his past. “Tell that to my dad.” The irresponsible jerk had decided being tied down with a family wasn’t his thing, left a note, and never looked back. Though Josh’s six-year-old heart kept up hope for years afterward. He’d vowed to be a better father than his own, an honorable man like Mr. Marovich. But somehow he’d married a woman who’d repeated the history in spite of his best efforts—desperate efforts at times.

  Maggie pressed her lips together, and the blaze receded a bit. “Sorry. I never understood that one either.” Her head tilted. “But isn’t your mom around?”

  “Her company moved overseas, so she took a new job in Atlanta, met someone, and remarried. Right before Trisha left.” He picked up his fork and stared at it. “Mom’s new husband’s a nice enough guy. She took all her vacation days and sick leave to help me out when my marriage first went south. She’s taken J.D. up to Atlanta and hired a sitter for some of my two-weeks out.” His stomach growled, and he slid his tray closer. “She may retire soon, but that really won’t be a permanent fix with her living six hours away. And she’s due a bit of happiness with her new husband. I don’t want to dump J.D on her every month.” He took a bite of meatloaf. Bland, but not bad, considering.

  “What about bossy nurse Angie? Isn’t her husband a pilot? Who keeps their child?”

  “Yeah, Graham’s a pilot, but Angie only works part-time. Plus both their parents live here and help them out.”

  Maggie’s fingers massaged her temples as if trying to figure out the mess he was in. “Hmm.”

  “It’s not your problem.” He brushed her fingers with his own. “You’ve got your family to worry about.”

  Her gaze traveled to his hand, then found his eyes again. “How’d you end up having Cammie watch J.D. anyway?”

  “A fluke. I had to sell the house in the divorce and was searching for someplace to move in a hurry. I was driving around our old stomping grounds to take a look and saw a For Sale sign.” He shrugged. “She was outside, saw me. We talked, and she offered to help.”

  Maggie huffed. “Were either of you going to tell me? I do come here. Occasionally anyway. Besides, Cammie has enough on her plate already.”

  Was she kidding? Heat shot to his cheeks. The woman still infuriated him so. “Your first thought is about how the arrangement would affect you? My life was falling apart and my kid had no mother.”

  “Sorry... It wasn’t my first thought...about you, I mean him. He’s precious.” Maggie’s brows did that scrunching thing they always had when she was upset.

  A bit of his anger receded. “Cammie said she needed the money.”

  “She needs money that bad? Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

  “That’s what she said.” Guilt knifed him. He shouldn’t have lit into Maggie that way. Both he and Cammie had known the arrangement would likely upset Maggie. “The antique business is down, I guess.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, and she wants to send Dahlia to private school.”

  Maggie seemed to let that sink in and took a few bites of her food.

  Josh followed suit. He should eat. This probably tasted better than what he’d find in his freezer at home. If there was anything in there at all.

  “I have to get them all out of here before the storm.” She dropped her fork onto the tray. “Permanently, if it’s up to me.”

  “Maggie.” He kept his voice low and controlled. “You can’t keep running every time there’s a storm. Life happens, accidents happen. People have heart attacks, get cancer—”

  Her chair pushed back with a scrape. “I’ve faced plenty of storms. But I’m not looking to run headlong into them.”

  One look at her expression told him he’d hit a nerve. He’d forgotten about her mother’s cancer. What an idiot he was.

  She jabbed a finger at him. “You should get your son to safety.”

  Apparently, the conversation was over. He watched her stomp away. Again.

  He knew better than to chase her down and try to talk sense into her stubborn head. Once she got into that mode, reasoning wouldn’t be possible. He also knew she had too much on her plate. There was no way she’d be able to take care of the store, her elderly aunt, a ten-year-old niece, and be here at the hospital. Maggie wouldn’t want help, but too bad. A crisis changed things, and last time, he’d been too caught up in his own grief to realize that. He’d help until Cammie had a better prognosis. Then he’d likely have to get out of their lives all together. Again.

  Josh picked up both their trays, emptied the half-eaten food, and set them on top of the trash can. On the way to the parking lot, he replayed the conversation with Maggie in his mind. He’d have to learn to think before he spoke if he was going to help Maggie—to avoid stepping on a land mine of emotion. Topics like cancer, piloting, parents...the weather. Were there more?

  Why had he bought the house next door? He’d known better. Known that Maggie would be hurt. Known that seeing her would slash both of their hearts open again. But he’d held out hope that the arrangement with Cammie and J.D. could work...and maybe, just maybe, he’d held out hope for him and Maggie.

  That had been a mistake.

  Josh clicked his key fob and opened the truck door. He may as well face the facts. He’d need to find a new nanny for J.D., and probably sell that house, too. Or find a job with slightly normal hours, like teaching at the maritime school, maybe running harbor tugs or cargo surveying. Another reality that would tear his heart to shreds. Besides being a father, piloting was his life. Without it, who was he?

  Chapter 5

  RUN FROM STORMS? SO exasperating. Why could that man still splinter her heart after so long? Chin quivering, Maggie fought to keep herself from sprinting away from the cafeteria. Blasted Josh. With his same blue eyes and tanned skin, only now small smile lines crinkled the corners of his temples. The way those eyes adored his son...held such compassion even when he looked at her...

  Enough with Josh and the past. She was here for Cammie, and there was a hurricane brewing out there somewhere. Brushing tears from her cheeks, Maggie kept walking until she reached the parking lot and popped the trunk of her car. Her computer lay tucked between her emergency kit and the case of bottled water and other disaster supplies she always kept stocked in the Acura—just in case. After retrieving the laptop and a water, she snuck back toward the entrance, hopeful she could avoid Josh. He should go home to his son.

  Finally in the bright light of the ICU waiting room, Maggie flopped onto the couch and unzipped her computer case. She’d stay until the next visiting hour and then go home to change and check on Dahlia and Aunt Ruth. Until then, she could pull up the latest storm prediction models. She’d look into spinal injuries, too. Oh, and that young Dr. Castro.

  If Cammie never walked again, life suddenly just took a radical turn for all of them.

  After accessing the Wi-Fi, she opened several meteorology sites and logged into her work email. First the hurricane in the Gulf. The storm looked to have stalled west of Miami, dumping rain with its outer bands. But it hadn’t made landfall, so it still posed the threat of strengthening and veering their way over the next week. Exactly as Katrina had.

  They’d need to ready the house soon. Like tomorrow. But she’d also promised to open the store. And someone needed to be here to get updates on Cammie. How in the world could she be in three places at once?

  She pulled her phone from her purse and set the alarm for five a.m. It would be a long day. Did Dahlia have school, or had it been cancelled in case the hurricane spe
d up? Or were they already on Thanksgiving break? Dahlia could be helpful to have around at the store...unless she would spend the hours being sulky. Better to see if school was open.

  Onto the next crisis—paralysis. Maggie scanned article after article on spinal injuries, possible treatments, and then did a search on the good doctor. Kyle Castro seemed to be a respected specialist. Board certified and highly recommended. Still, calling a few friends in the medical community wouldn’t hurt, just to make sure he was the best choice to continue treating her sister. She couldn’t take any chances with such a serious issue.

  An hour passed, and families in the waiting room began to stand and edge closer to the ICU entrance. A minute later, a nurse stuck her head into the waiting room. “It’s time.”

  Maggie followed the somber crowd into the quiet hall. Quiet other than the beeps and the whooshing air of ventilators. A few hushed voices came from one area where a doctor and nurse worked on a patient.

  Maggie reached the glass room where Cammie lay sleeping. With those raw scrapes and bruises, her sister looked so fragile and weak. The skin near her brow had swollen. With all the equipment attached, it would be too easy to accidentally dislodge the IV or some other important monitor. Worry nagged Maggie. She scooted a chair close to the bed and laid a hand over Cammie’s fingers.

  Lord, please heal Cammie. And please let us escape the storm this time. All the storms. The hurricane, the store, Josh... Help me stay strong for my family. I need a plan to keep everything under control.

  Too quickly, the thirty-minute visiting time ended, and Maggie made the zombie-like walk back to the waiting area with the other anxious families. She checked her phone. Dahlia would be, or rather should be, in bed, but she’d better go check in on her niece and Aunt Ruth to make sure they were okay. Today had to have been a horrendous one for them, too.

  The drive back to the house passed in a blur. Was there anyone they could hire to run the store so she could stay with Cammie? Was it okay to leave Dahlia with Aunt Ruth for long periods of time? What could she expect from a ten-year-old girl and an eighty-five-year-old woman? Churning thoughts of how to best manage the situation left her drained. Too many variables to predict how to fix things. By the time she reached the driveway, a tension headache clamped around her skull. All the lights still shone at Aunt Ruth’s. She glanced next door and blew out a long breath. Lights were on at Josh’s house, too. Pain squeezed her heart with renewed force. Why couldn’t he at least be five blocks over, or down the street? Anywhere but next door.

  Since she couldn’t get him to move—yet—she’d try to pretend the home belonged to someone else. Someone old and grumpy who kept to himself at all costs. She opened the car door and stepped out into the breezy night, probably about sixty-eight degrees still. They needed some cooler air to push in and blow the storm away. Leaves and pine straw cluttered the sidewalk. When would she have time to rake on top of everything else? The last thing they needed was for Aunt Ruth to slip in the pine straw and fall. They could hire a yard man for a few months. Would Cammie be well in a few months? Or ever?

  Maggie’s feet slowed at the front porch steps. How many adjustments would they need to make with Cammie in a wheelchair? Ramps, handrails, bathroom remodeling—and who knew what else—would have to be done regardless of whether Cammie insisted on staying here or agreed to move up to Jackson so she’d have help.

  Inside, the television screen flashed with a cartoon of some sort, but the sound had been muted. Maggie blinked twice at the sight on the couch. J.D. was curled under the pink afghan her mother had made for Dahlia. Why was he—?

  “I thought I heard you come in.” Warm breath pressed against her ear. Low and gentle, Josh’s voice washed over her, sending chills scampering down her spine. “Dahlia’s still awake if you want to say goodnight.”

  Why did he have to be so caring? He was no doubt a great father. But she couldn’t go there. And he shouldn’t be in their house. Maggie steeled herself against the churning wave of emotions and turned to face him. He was way too close. “What are you doing here?”

  His fingers touched her elbow, and he nodded toward the hall. “Reading and talking to Dahlia. We were getting ready to pray when I heard your car door.”

  Pray? Her feet followed him numbly down the hall. How could she say anything negative when he was praying with her niece?

  Preteen and little girl converged in Dahlia’s room. Maggie scanned the lime green comforter and the turquoise accent wall behind the twin beds. There hadn’t been time to really look around earlier. Some sort of white flowery light fixture hung over the bed, and two smaller versions stood as lamps on both night tables. A large green letter D hung alongside a funky-colored bulletin board with pictures of kittens and a pop band Maggie had never heard of.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Maggie sat on the side of the bed and stroked the hair from Dahlia’s face.

  “How’s Mom?” Puffy circles plumped the skin beneath Dahlia’s eyes.

  Poor baby. Answering the question vaguely seemed like the best idea. “Nothing has changed.”

  Josh made his way to the opposite side of the bed and sat. “We were about to pray. Do one of y’all want to start or would you like me to lead?”

  The twin mattress shifted with his weight, and Maggie’s gaze traveled over him. His shoulders were wider than she remembered from way back. His chest had broadened, too. Her cheeks heated, and she pulled her gaze away. The Josh she’d known was still a teen when he’d left. Now he’d become a man. A father. A good looking man with nice muscles...

  “You pray.” Dahlia’s voice was quiet, but it quickly doused the heat traveling through Maggie.

  Dahlia squeezed her eyes closed.

  With a hesitant move, Josh clasped Dahlia’s hand, then covered Maggie’s. His fingers were rough and calloused and strong. So much like what she remembered of her father’s. Like a ship pilots would be, of course.

  Pilot. That was the problem.

  “Is that okay with you, Maggie?”

  “What?” Her stunned mind tried to focus on something besides the warmth of his hand on hers.

  “If I pray? Unless you want to?”

  An ache that was bone deep washed over her. “Go ahead.”

  “Lord, we are thankful for Your daughter Cammie. We love her, and we know You love her even more. We are thankful she is in the care of a skilled doctor. Today was a scary day, but we know You weren’t taken by surprise. You are in control, and we ask You to be with us, to calm our fears, to strengthen our hearts, and we ask for complete healing for Cammie. We turn her over to Your loving hands, Lord. Let Your will be done in all our lives. We praise You and bring these requests in Jesus’ name.” Josh gave Maggie’s fingers a gentle squeeze. “Amen.”

  “Amen.” Maggie’s single word came out scratchy and broken.

  Breathing deep, Josh leaned in and gave Dahlia a hug. “Good night, darling. I should get my little sailor off the couch and into his bed, but you have my number. If you need anything, call me. I’m right next door.”

  Maggie pressed her eyes closed to keep from rolling them. Right next door. Like barely twenty feet away from exterior to exterior. At least tonight his presence would give her some peace when she went back to the hospital.

  She stood, then bent to kiss Dahlia’s forehead. “I want to go back to the hospital in a while. Are you okay with Aunt Ruth here?” She cleared her throat. “And Josh, you know...” She nodded toward the window. She couldn’t bring herself to say next door again.

  Dahlia nodded. “I like that you’re checking on Mom. Stay all night if you want. I know you’ll make sure everything’s legit.”

  “Yep. I’m staying on top of those medical people.” She tried to force a smile for her niece. But was she really doing all she could? Was there a way she could insist they let her sit at Cammie’s bedside? She’d ask around, maybe even call bossy Angie to find out for sure. Nurses always knew the real story about the hospital’s units and about which do
ctors were any good.

  “I’ll go now.” Josh stood, took one step, and stopped.

  Good. Go. Maggie’s chest tightened. This room was too small with him in it. She could barely breathe. Or keep from saying something she’d regret.

  “See y’all tomorrow.” His footsteps fell quietly on the hardwood. Like a man who’d learned to walk softly, so he wouldn’t wake a child.

  “Bye,” she managed to squeak out.

  “You can go now, too, Aunt Maggie, if you want to be with Mama.” Dahlia grabbed an old phone Cammie had given her and lay back against her pillows. “I’m going to listen to some music and try to sleep.”

  “Okay.” Her niece looked fragile and small as she placed earbuds in her ears and closed her eyes. Should she really leave her with Aunt Ruth? Dahlia had said to go. And as much as she hated it, Josh was close.

  Maggie walked from the room but hesitated in the hall. Josh scooped his son against his chest. Cradling the sleeping child, he gave her one last look before exiting quietly. The door creaked as it shut, and he was gone. Carrying another little piece of her heart with him.

  She grabbed a diet soda from the refrigerator and went back toward the hall to check on Aunt Ruth. The house was awfully quiet now, but her aunt had always been a bit of a night owl, staying up late to watch TV. Maybe the stress had taken its toll on the elderly woman.

  Maggie tiptoed closer to the master bedroom, and the glow from the screen met her at the entrance. So not much had changed in that regard except the volume. The sound was muted, and after the way they’d had to turn it up at the hospital... Worry pricked the back of her neck as she moved closer to the mound of comforter and pillows. It was hard to make out much under the dark antique canopy bed. She reached out and touched a bump that looked to be a foot. “Aunt Ruth?”

  “What in the world!” Her aunt sat straight up, eyes wide. “Lands sake, child. Warn a person. I thought a bat had gotten in the house again.”