Man From Tennessee (5 page)

Trisha hadn’t known Julia had had an angiogram. Julia switched doctors like dresses. If she didn’t like the diagnosis, she changed the doctor. It was difficult not to forgive Kern for making her the scapegoat, when his method of extracting information from his mother gleaned more than her coaxing or scolding.

“Well, I’ve never been overnight in a hospital…” Kern continued.

“But I have, Kern. The food is horrible, people poking and prodding all the time. And consultants—now that’s another dreadful racket. You can’t have just one doctor; an internist won’t even talk to you unless there’s a heart man there…”

Kern reached for his coffee cup with a casually interested expression toward his mother that didn’t fool Trisha at all. “Well, you don’t have to do a thing you don’t want to. It’s Tish’s problem if she wants to hightail it out of here this morning. So you can just stay here with me. I’ll be driving back north at the end of August anyway.”

Julia nearly choked on her coffee. “Stay, Kern? A few days perhaps, but I have a club meeting on Friday. Trisha, you can surely stay until—”

“Tish said she was leaving this morning, with you or without you…unless you saw a doctor this morning,” Kern continued sadly. “Actually, I thought I had her all talked into staying a few days, too, Mother, but…”

Lord, he was good at it. Trisha marveled, not just at his ability to maneuver his mother. He already had
her
jumpy around him, making his breakfast, taking care of his cuts, now somehow staying longer than she wanted to. He was the same overwhelming Kern. The old Trisha had been lost in that power of his, but it didn’t feel quite the same now. She could see what he was doing, for one thing, and more important, she understood why.

“Well, if you’ll agree to stay a few days, Patricia,” Julia said petulantly. “I must say it’s all a mountain for a molehill, but if you really must be so ridiculously obstinate about it…”

“I am,” she said frankly and turned with an impish smile to Kern. “Just what time is this appointment I insisted on making, Kern?”

“Nine, bright eyes.”

What a rogue he was, she thought fleetingly.

Ted Bassett’s office was in a corner of Gatlinburg’s hospital complex. Once Trisha had ushered Julia into a private room she was free at least to walk the white-walled corridors, which she did, with increasing anxiety, for more than two hours. She stopped only once to grab a machine cup of coffee that promptly churned in her stomach.

Thoroughly frightened by the long wait, Trisha gave up her pacing finally to lean back against the green-striped wallpaper in the doctor’s outer office. When Ted did come out, it was not through the door of the examining room as she expected, but from the main corridor that led to the hospital’s admitting wing. Ted took her arm and led her back to his private office.

Tall, lanky and sandy-haired, Kern’s friend had a lazy slow smile and a compassionate sense of humor. “As much as I’d love to send Mrs. Lowery home with you, Trisha, I’ve decided to tie her to a bed for a good forty-eight hours. Penance mostly. She told one of my nurses to take up sewing because it was certainly her
only
skill with a needle, and the other was scolded for making hypochondriacs out of perfectly healthy people.”

Trisha managed a smile, knowing Julia, knowing this gentle man was trying to put her at her ease. “I’d rather simply hear it, please,” she said quietly.

Just as quietly, Ted told her. Julia’s blood pressure was nearing stroke level. She didn’t even pretend to take the medicine prescribed previously for her. She had a heart murmur he was frankly not happy about. His recommendation was a full forty-eight hours of proper rest and medication under controlled conditions—and by controlled he meant that he would prefer no visitors during that time. “And if you know of anything that’s bothering her…”

“Not exactly,” Trisha said slowly, not wanting to think about the five-year status of her relationship with Julia’s son.

“I’ve only given you my professional opinion, Trisha, and though I’ve got your mother-in-law installed in a hospital room at the moment, she is certainly of age and not at all convinced she’s staying…”

“Oh, she’s staying.” Trisha stood up, mulling over in her mind everything she had heard. She pulled the strap of her purse to her shoulder as she edged toward the door. “I’ll see to Julia, doctor, but I would like to call Kern first if you wouldn’t mind my using your telephone.”

There was no answer at Kern’s. It didn’t really matter. There was no question what had to be done, and Trisha had no hesitations about doing it on her own. Getting Julia to the hospital wasn’t particularly enjoyable and convincing her to stay would be no fun at all.

It was past noon when Trisha opened the hospital doors and stepped out into the bright mountain sunshine. Gatlinburg was a crowded little tourist hamlet, packed with shops and restaurants and motels aimed to please the Smoky Mountain visitors. At that moment it seemed a completely foreign place as she traversed the asphalt to her car. The day was sweltering hot, but it was tension that dampened her palms. Julia was ill, really ill, or potentially so. What was Kern going to say? That it was her fault? Trisha was the one who had allowed Julia to make the trip, thinking she herself could ensure her mother-in-law’s every comfort, more than willing to cater to every whim. But if she hadn’t driven her, would Julia still have made the journey? she wondered.

The car seat was boiling and a throng of traffic lights prevented any speed that might have cooled the inside. Despite the difficult times, Julia had been good to her over the years, and the idea of something really happening to her felt like a leaden weight in her heart. She had promised Julia she would stay until Thursday afternoon, when she was to be released.

Her mood calmed finally as she escaped the city and Julia’s Mercedes began a meandering climb as the road came closer to Kern’s. Ted Bassett was his friend and Kern must trust him as a doctor. It seemed she simply had to trust him as well. She could not regret the decision made.

Sun shot through the fleeting bluish mists on the hillsides, piercing colors and scents into the day. The farthest slopes were a velvet green. It was almost a fairy-tale world of lush green peace, of rich scents and sounds. The countryside reached out to her as she drove, just as it had the night before, enfolding her in such a way that she felt herself relax. There was simply nothing else to do until she could talk to Kern.

When she arrived back at the house Kern wasn’t there. She parked the small car, leaving ample space for his truck when it returned, and went into the kitchen. It was past one, and she had had nothing but two bites of breakfast since six that morning. Absently she slashed off a wedge of cheese found in the refrigerator and snatched a handful of blueberries, leaning against the back door of the porch as she waited for him.

A rumble of thunder echoed in the west. It was nearly three and there was still no sign of Kern. The storm had been coming in for an hour. Trisha could sense the increasing uneasiness in the air. She watched it from the living room for a time, restless and uneasy herself after two hours of waiting. When the first splashes of rain pattered on the west side of the house she hurried to close the windows where the rain would come in, and put on a fresh pot of coffee. Lightning, stark and silver, suddenly silhouetted the entire west horizon. It was like a low, angry growl building in the skies, accenting the stillness in the house.

She could not stay inside any longer. Where was he? She walked outside to the sheltered back porch, worried eyes peeled for the sight of his truck coming up the narrow mountain lane. Absently she stretched her arm beyond the shelter of the porch. The big drops were oddly warm, almost hot on the sultry afternoon.

At last she heard the sound of the truck engine, and she clattered immediately down the steps to meet it. Her mind was too much on Julia to worry about the rain, though even in those few moments the warm drops soaked her jersey dress, which clung to her slender figure as she ran to the truck.

Kern stepped out from the vehicle, shouting above another roar of thunder. “For God’s sake, Tish, you’re soaking wet! What are you doing out here?”

“Where have you been, Kern? I had to put your mother in the hospital. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer, and the doctor seemed to feel—”

“Hey, slow down, bright eyes.” His hair was plastered to his skull like a gleaming black helmet, his eyes devil-bright, skimming over her clearly outlined figure in the damp dress. She could feel a flush on her face as she reached up to push back wet hair that drooped in her eyes. “This rain is heaven-sent,” he said calmly. “Beyond an occasional shower in the morning, it’s been dry as tinder around here for almost three weeks. Forest-fire weather—and if nature wasn’t enough to worry about there’ve been arsonists plaguing the area.”

“Arsonists?” Trisha questioned, momentarily diverted from the speech she had carefully prepared on Julia’s state of affairs. “Where
have
you been all afternoon?”

“With some of the park service people,” he answered. “There’s been an outbreak of forest fires this spring. Three last Sunday alone. The best guess is that it’s diversion—start a fire here and draw attention away from the location where the thief wants to loot. Or worse yet, some idiots getting their thrills by setting fires… Is there some reason we have to discuss this in the middle of a downpour?” he demanded abruptly, his eyes glinting rueful humor.

“It feels good,” she said impishly.

“Maybe you haven’t turned into such a city girl as you’ve led me to think,”
 
Kern drawled.

“It’s just that it was hot, Kern,” she said flatly, annoyed by the personal comment. And annoyed that she found herself staring at his chest, outlined clearly through the now-damp shirt, dark hair just beginning to curl at the V of his collar. His jeans were beginning to look molded on him, promoting a clear image of hard, muscled thighs and the virility he had never managed to tame, even in a business suit. He was staring at her just as intently. She knew the rain had washed off her makeup and destroyed the neat coil of chignon. With the sophisticated veneer gone, she could not hide that she’d been almost ridiculously happy to see him.

A ribbon of lightning crackled overhead, and suddenly Kern was pushing her abruptly to the house. “Could you make us a quick cup of coffee, Tish, while I put a few things away?”

“I have to tell you about your mother—”

“In a minute. I’ve already gathered she’s safe and sound in Ted’s care. Let’s at least talk dry.”

She had two cups of coffee in her hand when he came back from his office. Both of them were still undeniably dripping but the warm rain had turned cold inside the house, and Trisha was shivering. He shook his head scoldingly at her, prodding her toward the stairs. “Change clothes, pronto,” he ordered.

He followed behind her as she climbed the stairs. “You haven’t had any trouble with arsonists here, have you?” she asked worriedly. She knew that the fire towers were always manned in the park. The expensive equipment was maintained to cope with the outbreaks of fire that were inevitable. But no one could control or account for someone who deliberately set a match anywhere on thousands of acres of land.

“Not here. We’ve got too many people around. But right next to us is the national forest and the wind’s never concerned about the property lines. The handful of individual landowners with property bordering the park have gotten together with the park service in a help-each-other sort of program.”

She stopped by the door to her room as he kept on striding toward the master bedroom. She frowned when she realized he wasn’t going to say any more. And then rather awkwardly she followed him to his door. “How close have the fires been to here?” she asked, and then caught herself up abruptly. It just was not any of her business anymore. Why did she have to remind herself of that? “Never mind about the fires, Kern. I have to tell you about Julia!”

“So tell me.”

But the look of the master bedroom silenced her for a moment. It was the first room they had finished a long time ago, a measure, she thought then, of what was important to Kern in a marriage. Wide and long, the room had a thick dark-pumpkin carpet and dark cedar paneling. One stretch of wall was glass, and another streak of lightning illuminated the hills. An Indian print spread in burnt oranges and browns covered the king-sized bed, and a brick fireplace filled one corner. It was a sensual room with the dark wood and rich colors, a room of textures meant to be explored. Her face unconsciously paled in old memories, and when she glanced at Kern it paled further.

He was paying no attention to her. He had already shrugged off his damp shirt and stood with his back to the windows, his powerful frame silhouetted against the darkened room and the mountains in the distance. His chest had a triangle of dark hair, and broad shoulders gleamed in the afternoon’s half-light. There was another dark red scar down his side to match the one on his forehead, but this was longer, jagged, and where the pattern of chest hair thinned at the base of his ribs there was the motley color of a healing bruise. A few cuts and scrapes he had said of the accident. She had the insane urge to touch, to soothe, and at the same time the storm outside seemed to have begun inside of her. He was a vibrant sexual animal, standing tall, sure, never self-conscious of his own body. She was suddenly aware he was watching her, as his left hand reached for his belt buckle. “I thought you were going to tell me about Mother.”

“I am. I…” She took a breath. “Your mother has blood-pressure problems, which I knew, and a heart murmur, which I didn’t. The doctor wants her to stay in the hospital for at least today and tomorrow, to check her out and give her a few tests. We pick her up Thursday at four.” Her voice faded. She was strangely fascinated with his left hand awkwardly trying to work the belt buckle. She realized she wanted to see him; she wanted to see all of him.

His hand lifted from the buckle. “If you’re not going to talk, you’d better get out of those clothes. You’re shivering like a rabbit, bright eyes.”

She turned quickly, suddenly anxious to be out of that room.

“Wait a minute.”

She halted, feeling his palm on her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me she went meekly into the hospital.”

Trisha half turned, hating the awareness in his eyes. Close up, he smelled as fresh and potent as the rain. Inside herself she could feel the danger of the storm. It was absurd. She had to stop this. “You know your mother, Kern,” Trisha said curtly. “It was fifty strokes of the lash, the threat of boiling oil, and the promise I would never again vote liberal as long as I lived—and all that done on bended knees.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to tell me that, Tish. I’ve been trying to get her into the hospital for three years. She’s always claiming to have just been to a doctor and come out ‘clean.’ It took both of us this morning, though if you want me to apologize for making you the scapegoat—”

“It worked, Kern. That’s all that matters.”

“Do you want to go see her tonight in the hospital?”

“No visitors, the doctors said. I—what are you doing?” His right palm rested at the nape of her neck, and she could feel an odd warmth flow through her like liquid fire as the fingers of his other hand slowly started to wrestle with the first button of her dress. The heel of his hand rested on the crest of her breast like a caress. “Don’t,” she said quickly, and jerked away from him, hurrying down the hall into her own room.

She half closed the door and hurried out of the damp dress, her fingers fumbling awkwardly.
What
is
the matter with you?
she asked herself furiously. She hung the damp dress on a hanger and hooked it on the shower stall to dry. Shivering almost violently, she hurriedly slipped on the ivory pants and blouse from yesterday. It was all she had to wear. The pins were half falling from her hair and she removed the rest, snatching a brush after she’d toweled away most of the moisture.

“Are those really all the clothes you brought with you?”

Trisha turned to see Kern at the door, a navy shirt over tan pants accenting his long legs and broad-shouldered figure. “Yes,” she told him flatly.