McCloud's Woman (39 page)

Punching TJ in the throat with his elbow, the colonel freed his hand and pulled the pin from the grenade.

Three seconds to live.

TJ fought as he’d never had before. He wasn’t a fighter by
nature, but he wanted to live. He wouldn’t leave Mara with the vision
of his bloody body sprayed in pieces across the sand. And he wouldn’t
let the damned colonel die either.

Two seconds.

Pinning the colonel’s arm against the sand, TJ grasped the
hand holding the grenade. Martin struggled, but TJ was stronger. With
determination, he peeled the colonel’s fingers off the weapon. Bones
cracked, and in a cry of pain, the colonel released his hold on the
deadly ball.

One second.

TJ flung the grenade as far and as hard as he could in the
direction of the deserted beach. The explosion spewed sand across the
night sky and the weakened dune rumbled.

Beneath him, Martin continued struggling, and TJ was
forced to return his attention to the colonel by applying pressure
across his windpipe.

“Dammit, Colonel!” he shouted, still shaken by the
nearness of death. “Do you have any idea what that could have done to
Sandy? To your kids? Have you ever lived with the suicide of someone
you loved?”

The colonel quit struggling to gasp for air.

“Death ends it all! You’d never have another chance to
explain what you did or why you did it. Think about Nicole and Michelle,
spending the rest of their lives believing their father didn’t love
them enough to live for them.”

Breathing heavily, Martin lay still. The night of Brad’s
death flamed across TJ’s memory as strongly as if it had been yesterday.
Shaking, he released the colonel’s throat. “I didn’t think you the kind
of man to take the coward’s way out.”

Beneath him, the big man he’d thought of as father let out a choking sob. The colonel shook his head, unable to reply.

“Do you have any idea what it would have done to
me
if you’d died like this?” TJ asked, his voice cracking as grief and
terror spilled through his reserve. “You’re the father I’ve never really
had. I’d carry the guilt of your death forever. All you had to do was
confess you made the wrong decision, give up your commission, and
retire, and your family would have loved you and respected you. And you
chose to ruin all of us instead? Are you out of your mind?”

“Maybe.” The colonel’s voice was raw and raspy. “I couldn’t bear the shame.”

“Bear it,” TJ said gruffly. “Pay the price of your wrong decision. Just don’t make others pay it for you.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Martin whispered.

Sagging with relief, TJ rolled over, listening to the
sound of Mara scrambling toward them. He needed her in his arms right
now, needed to feel life again after this close brush with death.

The sand shifted as he started to stand.

With a slow rumble of thunder and a cloud of dust, the
excavation above them collapsed in on itself. A surprised scream drowned
out the crashing tide.

Mara!

Panic instantly replaced triumph. Leaving the colonel
nursing his crippled hand, TJ raced up the cascading dune, a litany of
prayers escaping his lips—
Please Lord, save Mara. I’ll give up my job
and go to Hollywood and be her houseboy and bodyguard. I’ll keep the
baby by myself. I’ll do anything you like. Just make her safe.

Mara’s moan whispered from beneath an avalanche of loosened sand.

No!
Please, not Mara!

Heart rate escalating, TJ tripped and slid headfirst into
the shrubbery. Sand covered the waist-high wax myrtles. Scrambling for
footholds, he half crawled, half tumbled through the debris, screaming
Mara’s name.

He heard shouts in the distance, but the shattering sound of Mara’s moan obliterated all else.

“Mara, I’m coming. Where are you? Talk to me.” He slithered through broken sticks and briars, seeking the source of the sound.

“The baby,” he heard her whisper. “I’m losing my baby, TJ.” Her voice was thick with tears and panic.

Sickened, he crawled in the direction of her pale face
outlined against a backdrop of half-buried palmettos. “I’m here, Mara.
Just hold on.”

“I’m bleeding, TJ,” she whispered.

“It’s okay. Everything will be okay. Just hold on. I’ll
get you out of here.” He didn’t know what he was saying. His mouth was
moving faster than his brain. He simply had the overwhelming urge to
paint the world bright for the woman he loved, the woman who had
suffered far too much to suffer more.

“I love you, TJ,” she murmured as he lifted her in his arms. “Take care of my baby.” Trusting in him, she lost consciousness.

“Pacing the floor won’t help,” Clay advised, grimacing at the coffee he sipped from the paper cup.

“Standing still won’t either.” TJ crossed to the window
overlooking the hospital parking lot. The wild ride back to town in the
limo had told him the baby needed more help than he could provide. The
town ambulance had taken Mara straight to Charleston. They hadn’t let
him ride with her. He’d flown here with Clay, vivid images of Mara
doubled up in agony branding every nerve and synapse.

The knifelike anguish successfully dried his tears. He
would never forgive himself if he lost Mara now, just when her life was
really beginning—just as he was coming to understand what it meant to
love someone.

As if reading his mind, Clay spoke quietly. “It’s not your fault, TJ. You couldn’t know the dune would collapse.”

“I could have at least considered it.” He didn’t want to
be relieved of the guilt. He needed to hurt as much as he’d hurt Mara.
More. He deserved whatever punishment God wreaked on him for taking her
life in his hands, risking it for a man who probably didn’t deserve it.

“I gave the police the colonel’s phone number so they
could notify his family. Should I call and warn them?” Clay voiced his
concern in the only manner the McClouds understood, in practicalities.

TJ shrugged. Who was he to give out advice on family
matters? “Do what feels best. I’ll talk to them later. I’m not leaving
here until I see Mara.”

For the first time in years, Clay’s cynicism slipped, and sympathy reached his voice. “She’ll be okay, TJ. Mara’s a fighter.”

TJ clenched his teeth and nodded curtly. The prickles
behind his eyelids were harder to combat now. Clay didn’t know what was
at stake here.

Mara had begged him to take care of her baby.
She wanted to keep it.

So did he. If only they could save the baby, they’d be
fine. They could work things out. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen
to Mara and his child. He knew people. Modern medicine worked
miracles.

Relief spilled through him when a nurse finally appeared in the doorway. “Mr. McCloud? Miss Simon is asking for you.”

TJ left his brother to his own pursuits. The entire movie
crew would turn up shortly. He needed to see Mara first. Clinging to
desperate hope, he didn’t dare question the nurse. His whole life lodged
in his throat as he walked the interminable hospital corridor.

Mara seemed to be sleeping, covered by white hospital
sheets, wearing one of those abominable green hospital gowns, her curls
spilling across a nearly flat pillow. He needed to bring one of her
fluffy pillows here, and a bright red teddy bear. He wished the gift
shop had been open. He remembered clearly the night she’d cooed over
that ridiculous bear in a toy store window. He’d bought it to give it to
her for her seventeenth birthday—and then Brad had died.

So many things he hadn’t done, and now it was too late. TJ
sat down on the bed’s edge and lifted the pale hand lying on the
covers. Mara’s eyes opened instantly, green and bright with tears.

“I lost the baby, TJ.” A fat tear slid from her eye and
down her temple. “Our beautiful baby. I’m so sorry, TJ.” A sob racked
her throat, halting her words.

Pain sliced his heart in two, and the tears he’d been
holding back slid down TJ’s cheeks. He didn’t even know if he’d lost a
boy he could have played baseball with or a little girl to tease him as
her mother did. There hadn’t even been time to realize how much he
wanted that.

He grappled for words, a task more difficult than fighting the colonel for their lives. “I’m sorry, Mara.”

“How could I even think I didn’t want her?” she whispered.
“Everything I’ve ever wanted has turned out wrong. I was terrified I
couldn’t do the mother thing right. But how could I even dream of
giving up our little girl?”

TJ cracked. Tears pouring down his face, he tugged her
into his arms and wept against her neck. Knowing she needed him to be
strong, he fought for control, but the only words he could find were
hopeless. “It’s my fault. I should have gotten you away from there—”

She shook her head against his shoulder. “You can’t
shoulder the blame for the world, TJ.” She hiccuped on a sob. “The
doctor said that losing it this easily meant I would probably have lost
her anyway, that something wasn’t quite right. It’s not your fault.”

He held her tighter, and took a deep breath to fight back
tears. They’d lost a little girl, maybe one with Mara’s laughter and
loving eyes. Placing blame didn’t ease the agony of loss. He still
couldn’t find the right words to comfort her. Her tears were soaking
his shirt. He could only hold her in his arms and rock her.

“Did you save your friend? Is he all right?” she whispered
through her tears, wrapping her arms around him as if to offer him the
comfort he wanted to give her.

“My
friend
,” TJ replied in a hollow voice. “I’m
lousy at picking friends. Yeah, he’s got a couple of cracked fingers,
but he’ll live. Don’t waste time worrying about him. He could have cost
me you. He cost us a
child
.”

“Tim, don’t do this to yourself,” she murmured, fading
away on whatever drugs they’d given her. “This is just the way it was
meant to be. It’s not our call.”

He didn’t have enough faith to believe that. He’d turned
into the Incredible Hulk, acted on fury and not logic, and lost what
he’d wanted most in this world. He wanted to tell her how much he loved
her, how much pain the loss of their child caused him, but the words
swelled and stuck on his tongue as her eyes closed.

She was alive, no thanks to him. He shouldn’t ask for more.

Gently, he laid Mara against her pillow and watched over her until she breathed evenly in slumber.

***

Mara woke to the light of a streetlamp on her pillow and
the clatter of dishes in the hospital corridor. No clock gave her the
time, but the window was dark. What on earth did these people do at this
hour to make such a racket?

Then the meaning of last night flooded back, and she sought frantically for TJ to tell her she’d only dreamed the last hours.

In the darkness, she sensed the room’s emptiness. Alone.
Again. She’d been given the chance to bring life and hope into the
future, and she’d wished it away.

Tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. As if waiting for
that signal, a sob caught in her chest, and a wail of anguish emerged.
Weeping, Mara buried her face in the pillow to hide her pain as she’d
learned to do long ago.

She didn’t know how long she cried before the familiar
scent of her favorite pillow seeped through her misery. Seeking anything
to distract her, Mara blinked away tears and searched the darkness.

Cuddling the fluffy pillow, she groped for the bedside
light, pushing it on just as a nurse’s aid cheerfully burst into the
room.

“Good morning!” the woman called, pushing back the ugly
curtains to reveal fuzzy halos of light over a parking lot. “Are you up
to washing on your own or would you like some help?”

The light illuminated a castle of familiar items stacked
around the bed. Awed by the attention to detail, Mara could only stare
instead of answering. Someone had neatly arranged all her beloved family
photos on the nightstand. A selection of her favorite books rested
within reach on the bedside table. A multicolored array of roses and
baby’s breath filled the top of the dresser—someone must have woken up a
florist in the middle of the night for those.

And beside the roses sat a bright red-and-blue patchwork
teddy bear with an impish, lopsided grin. Adorable blue button eyes
gleamed back at her, and she bit her finger rather than cry again.

She wasn’t alone.

She couldn’t stop the tears, but these were healing tears. TJ had done this.

No one else in her life had ever cared enough to give her
what she needed. Other people only cared about what she could do for
them. They told her she was being foolish when she wanted teddy bears
or bright red lipstick.

TJ might not grasp verbal communication well, but he
understood
.

For the first time in years, she trusted someone enough to
trust her own instincts. TJ loved her. She’d lost his baby, and he
still loved her. That kind of unswerving devotion seemed a miracle to
her.

“I’ll wash,” she murmured. “Would you hand me the bear?”

The nurse smiled and moved the stuffed creature. “This one looks as if it were made with love. That’s hand stitching on there.”

Mara clasped it in her arms and rested her cheek on its
round head—not a baby, but a promise. She could bear the loss if she had
someone to help her through it. Maybe asking for help wasn’t such a bad
thing, after all. Maybe they could help each other.

“Patty Bear,” she declared firmly, “my friend.”

Something torn and ragged inside her soul began to mend.
She hadn’t lost herself this time. She might even have found what had
been lost long ago. It had been so very long since love had touched her...

***

With car packed and nowhere to go, TJ stopped at the
hospital on his way to the airport. He’d called the hospital several
times this morning, but Mara’s line was always busy. He’d checked with
the nurse’s station to be sure she was all right, then finished clearing
out his office and gathering his scattered belongings.