A Distant Summer (17 page)

* * * *

The road stretched beyond the headlights like a thread unraveling from a piece of cloth.

Endless.

Meaningless.

Going nowhere because he didn’t know where to go.

Tucker gripped the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator. The Mercedes shot forward in a burst of speed that tightened his hold on the wheel.

What was he doing? he wondered. Why was he risking life and limb in a mindless attempt not to think ... or feel? It was pointless. He couldn’t escape the memory of her voice, the look in her eyes, the knowledge of what she had done. “Oh, Kristina,” he moaned softly. “Why did you have to tell me?”

Slowly the car lost speed as Tucker realized the significance of his words.

Why did you have to tell me?

Not
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
or
“Why did you do it?”
Not any of the questions he had asked her but a deep-seated wish to turn back the clock, to return to yesterday, when he hadn’t known the truth.

That was impossible, though. Everything was impossible, except following the highway to some unknown destination. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was away from Kristina.

Yet the only place he wanted to be was with her.

Flexing the stiffness from his fingers, Tucker stared at his hands. Surgeon’s hands, skilled and competent, able to repair and mend a body, but totally inept when it came to matters of the heart. This must be the year for disillusionments, he thought wryly. First the malpractice suit and now Kristina’s betrayal. Odd that he felt more threatened by the latter. Six months before, his career had been the focal point of his existence. How quickly that focus had changed to Kris. How easily her town, her friends, her life-style had become his.

Now he felt homeless, a man without a country or a purpose. A surgeon stripped of his confidence, a father robbed of his child.

But that wasn’t entirely true, he knew. His confidence in his professional ability had been slowly returning ever since he’d arrived in Maple Ridge, The lawsuit had been an unpleasant incident, but he had gained a new and valuable perspective on his career. The knowledge that he was a father was a tremendous shock, but was it really the betrayal of trust that he’d at first believed?

Tucker guided the car to the shoulder of the road and stopped to consider the possibility. He had analyzed every word Kristina had said, and he had tried to comprehend her reasoning, but perhaps it was time for him to analyze his emotions and motivations. Had he been robbed of his child?

Or had he simply been relieved of the obligation to make the decision that Kris had made?

She had tried to contact him, but he’d returned the letter unopened. Why hadn’t he read that letter? Had he unconsciously been protecting himself from any possible responsibility? He had been idealistic and ambitious at that point in his life. Hadn’t he told Kristina there was no room in his schedule for her? And there certainly hadn’t been room for any mistakes.

But he had made mistakes. Innocent ones, but mistakes just the same. She shouldn’t have lied to him, but then he’d been old enough to recognize her inexperience, and still he’d ignored the clues as if they hadn’t existed. She had been vulnerable, and he had thoughtlessly taken advantage. Then he had sent her on her way without so much as a “see you later.” And when she’d written to tell him of the consequences of their special weekend, he hadn’t bothered to read her letter.

Tucker brushed a weary hand through his hair and stared at the twin beams of the headlights reaching futilely into the darkness. He couldn’t understand why Kristina hadn’t tried again to contact him, but he couldn’t entirely blame her either.

How could he honestly say what his reaction would have been if he’d known about the baby? He had been a different person then, full of his own plans and importance. What right did he have to judge Kris for making a decision she felt was best?

He loved her.

No matter how he felt about anything else, he knew that hadn’t changed. He couldn’t deny, though, that the knowledge of his paternity made a difference in his relationship with Kristina, bonding them in one way, separating them in another. But how could he justify his impulsive departure from her life? He needed to talk to her, wanted to share his uncertain thoughts and feelings with her. After all, when it came down to the bottom line, who else could possibly understand?

In sudden decision he started the car and made a U-turn onto the highway. The Mercedes skimmed the miles as Tucker watched for familiar road signs. He hadn’t realized he’d driven so far, but it seemed to take hours to reach the outskirts of town. It was after midnight, and Maple Ridge was quiet as he drove through the streets, past the unfinished construction that would soon be a hospital, past the municipal building and the Gazette office, past Ruth’s shop and the grocery. For a few minutes Tucker savored the pleasant feeling of being a part of this community and knew that he didn’t want to leave.

Kristina’s house was dark except for the pale light that illuminated the back porch steps. He turned onto the graveled driveway and saw Kris standing beside the opened door of her car. In the glare of his headlights she lifted a hand to shade her eyes, and he smiled at the enchanting picture she made. Her hair was a disheveled halo of silvery gold. She was dressed in faded blue jeans and one of his shirts. He hadn’t realized he’d left the shirt behind, but it pleased him somehow that she was wearing it now.

As he stopped the car directly behind hers, Kris ran to the passenger side of the Mercedes and pulled open the door. “Tucker,” she said in a breathy rush, “I’m on my way to get Jena. She’s in labor, and Matt can’t get his truck to start.”

“Get in. I’ll go with you.” He waited for Kris to slide onto the seat beside him before he reversed and backed from the driveway. Despite the tension of the afternoon and evening, Tucker felt a sudden sweet delight in being close to her again. “If this is a code three,” he said lightly, “you’ll have to be the siren and I’ll blink the lights.”

Her gaze came to his in momentary surprise. “Just concentrate on driving as fast as you safely can. When Jena called, she said there wasn’t any great hurry, but I could hear Matt in the background yelling something about the National Guard. He goes a little crazy at times like this.”

“I suppose most men do at times like this.”

A tiny smile touched Kristina’s lips and Tucker’s heart. “I suppose. At least Jena is calm. She said she really wouldn’t mind having the baby at home, but I’m not sure Matt would survive. Having you there might help.”

“Why?”

“You’re a doctor, Tucker.”

“A surgeon, Kris. I haven’t delivered a baby since I was an intern, and I really would prefer to keep it that way.”

“But in an emergency?”

“I’ll drive faster. Whatever the record time is in getting from here to the nearest hospital, I’ll break it.” He slowed the car to make a left turn. “We’ll just keep our fingers crossed that Jena is right and that the new Saradon baby isn’t in a great hurry to be born.”

Kristina said nothing, and when Tucker glanced at her inquiringly, he sensed that her thoughts were far away. She was pleating a fold in the material of his shirt, but her eyes were focused on something beyond the boundaries of the night. A question formed in his mind and dropped, unbidden, into the quiet. “Was our baby in a hurry to be born, Kris?”

The subsequent hesitation lasted a seemingly endless second. “No. I guess she knew I needed all the growing-up time possible before she made her appearance in the world. Even once my labor started, she wasn’t in a hurry.”

Tucker searched for words to express something, he wasn’t sure what. But there was nothing to say. Not now.

“Amber,” Kris said in a throaty whisper. “I don’t know what her name is, but I think of her as Amber. In a way you chose that name, Tucker. After the first time we made love in front of the fireplace, you told me you’d remember me always in amber. It seemed fitting to give our daughter a name that was a symbol of the happiness we shared that weekend.”

The Saradon mailbox gleamed a silvery welcome, and Tucker felt both relief and regret that there wasn’t time to reply. Amber, he thought. His daughter ... and Kris’s.

“What took you so long?” Matt jerked open Tucker’s door even before the car came to a stop in the driveway. “My wife is having a baby, you know. Jena, will you come on?” He motioned toward Jena, who was sitting on the porch steps complacently watching the proceedings as if she had a front-row ticket for the Saturday night fights.

With a worried sigh, Matt retraced his steps, helped Jena to her feet, picked up her small suitcase, and led her to the Mercedes. Tucker exchanged a brief sharing glance with Kristina, and then both expectant mother and father were inside the car and it was time to go.

The trip to Russellville was made in record time and was marked by an uneventful conversation between Kris and Jena. Tucker said little, and Matt maintained an obviously painful silence that ended abruptly at the entrance to the hospital. Matt ordered everyone inside as if he were a general in charge of army maneuvers and then, the moment Jena was whisked away by a smiling nurse, he promptly collapsed and had to be led to the nearby waiting room.

As one hour slipped into two, Tucker watched Matt’s nervous attempts to appear calm, but his thoughts were on Kristina. She sat opposite him, her head bent as she leafed through the pages of a magazine, her hair drifting about her shoulders in a loose caress. Once, Tucker thought, she had been on the other side of these hospital walls. But there had been no one waiting and worrying for her, not even her great-aunt Maudie, who had been too frail to make the trip. No one had cared the way the three of them did for Jena.

Kristina had been alone. Suddenly the enormity of that fact wove through him, leaving his heart to throb a slow, heavy rhythm of comprehension. She had been only seventeen, just out of high school, physically and emotionally drained, and she had borne his child alone. He had a strange impulse to apologize to her, but he kept silent and waited for something to ease the tension.

When at last the phone in the waiting room rang and Matt hurried to meet his newborn son, Tucker stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t know the worst part of having a baby would be the waiting. Do you suppose they’ll name him after me?”

Kris looked up and tried to smile. “I doubt it. You really didn’t do anything particularly heroic.”

Tender concern welled inside him at the tired expression in her eyes. “Would you consider the simple act of taking you home as something akin to heroism?”

“You could get a medal if you break the all-time return trip record. Probably we should wait for Matt, though. He’ll want to get back to Maple Ridge and tell the other Saradon siblings about their new brother.” She paused, and this time the smile seemed almost normal. “I might warn you that if you expect a quiet ride, you’re bound for disappointment. Matt will more than make up for what he didn’t say on the way here.”

“I can handle a proud father’s excitement if you can.”

They waited in agreeable quiet for several minutes. “Kristina,” Tucker said softly, “I wish I had been here with you when our — when Amber was born.”

A betraying quiver tugged at the corners of her lips. “So do I.”

He wanted to say more, to comfort her, but instead, he sank onto the chair again, clasped his hands, and waited for Matt’s return. It was difficult to wait, but Tucker decided it was fitting for him to be here, in this hospital with Kris.

Too late, yes, but very fitting.

Chapter Eleven

The trip home from the hospital was all Kris had predicted ... and more. Matt broke the all-time record for nonstop conversation on a single topic. He talked with all the excitement and enthusiasm of a new father who realizes that no one is actually listening but who doesn’t really care. Kris couldn’t restrain her sigh of relief when at last Matt stepped out of the car at his house and expressed — not for the first time — his eternal gratitude and the promise of a steak dinner reward as soon as Jena and the baby were home.

Tucker didn’t linger long enough to encourage any more discussion on the topic of the Saradon family. He said a hasty good-bye and abruptly drove away. As the last shadow of night closed around the Mercedes, a cautious awareness crept into the sudden quiet. Kris accepted the silence, knowing that it was composed of Tucker’s uncertainties as well as her own. It seemed impossible that less than twenty-four hours had passed since they’d made love in the shade of the oak tree. Her body trembled with the memory and the thought that she might never feel his touch again.

What was he thinking? she wondered. Were his thoughts on her, or were they focused on that distant summer? She turned the hem of her shirt-tail into a tight roll and then released it. Had Tucker noticed that she was wearing his shirt? Silly thought. It was so obviously his. How could he help noticing? She felt a little embarrassed at being caught in such a peculiarly feminine weakness. But when he’d left her, putting on the shirt he’d left behind had been the only comfort she could find.

And now he was back. What did it mean? Kris couldn’t begin to answer all the questions in her mind. She could only sit next to him and wish that the taut silence would end.

She was very good at wishing. There were times when it seemed as if she’d spent most of her life wishing for something she couldn’t have.

Tucker glanced at her, and Kristina offered a tentative smile, but it wasn’t returned, and the tension became a heavy ache in her lungs. She couldn’t halt the weary sigh that escaped her when Tucker drove up her driveway and stopped the Mercedes beside her house. Streaks of morning lightened the eastern sky and faded the glare of the porch light to a dim fluorescence.

The air was very still as Kristina stepped from the car and paused to listen to the quiet sounds of a new Sunday morning. She closed the door and waited, not knowing whether to hope Tucker would leave again without explanation or to wish that he would stay. When she heard his door open and close, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.