Three Weeks Last Spring (32 page)

"
D
on't answer me yet.
Hear me out.
I've loved you from the first day I saw you, but both of us were young and I had nothing to offer you back then.
But it's different now.
I'm finan
cially secure."

Skye stared at him in disbelief.
"John, I…
You've taken me so
completely by surprise that I…
I don't know what to say.
We've been friends for so long and I never—"
The words wedged in her throat.
"But marry you?"
Skye stared at the diamond sparkling
in the jewel
l
er’s
box
.
She needed time to think and with raw hurt evident in John’s eyes, she couldn't do that.
She went and stood by the window, her body trembling with shock.

John remained motionless for a moment, and then propelled by some unseen force, he crossed the room in two quick strides and took her into his arms.
Skye kept her hands by her side, and tilted her head back so that she could see his face.

"All these years,
I've loved you as a brother.
I've never thought of you in any other way.
You've always been such a rock for me, always there when I needed you.
I know you've asked me in the past, but I alway
s assumed you were teasing me."

"Teasing you
?"

Skye knew she'd said the wrong thing.
Choosing her words carefully, she tried hard to explain.
"Yes, teasing.
I've lost count of the number of times you've asked me to marry you.
The first was on my twenty-first birthday, and you've done so every year since.
But I always assumed…always treated it as our private joke."

"
At first, it was.
But I've come to
realize
just how much I love you."

"
If I gave you the impression that we
were anything more than friends,
I'm sorry."
The disappointment and anguish she saw in his eyes was almost her undoing.
"I don't want to lose
your friendship
.
Don't make me be the one to hurt you
.
"

A half smile crossed his face, his arms tightened around her waist an
d he inclined his head to hers.

"Sleep on it.
Don't give me your answer tonight.
Think things over—take as long as you need.
We've got plenty of time.
I
understand
you may not
feel the same way about me now
,
but given time—" His
words hung heavily on the air.

Skye leaned lightly into him, feeling the warmth of his body.
She opened her mouth to say something, but John
silenced her with a fingertip.

"I've more than enough love for both of us and I know, given the chance, I could make you happy.
A lot of couples start out as friends and make a marriage work.
And I think we could too.
I'm sure when you've had chance to think things through, you'll agree.
In the meantime, I'd be
hono
u
red
if you would wear this."
He touched her left hand to his lips, and kissed the ring he placed on her finger.

A lump formed in Skye's throat, the words wouldn't form, all she could do was rest her head on his shoulder and allow him to hold her.
His hands stroked her back.
When she relaxed against his chest, he brought his hand up to caress her cheek then
gently tipped her mouth to his.

Skye poured herself another glass of brandy from the decanter and struggled to put the events of the evening into perspective.
She lifted the glass to her lips, and took a sip.
Life was certainly full of surprises and none more so than that evening.
And what an emotionally charged time it had turned out to be.
A proposal from John
was
the last thing she'd expected and his refusal to accept her assertion that they could only be friends, had left her feeling embarrassed and at a loss at what to say.

She kicked off her shoes, and drew her legs up on the sofa.
John was certainly attractive—a loveable rogue someone had once described him.
There was an inherent strength in his face that was echoed in his character.
He wasn't classically handsome, but he had an inner quality which women found attractive.
In fact, some she knew even declared him to be downright sexy, although she never saw it herself.
But to her, he was John. Her best friend and business partner, the brother she'd never had.
But her husband?

Skye rotated her neck trying to ease the tension in her shoulders, but it didn't help.
The more she thought about John's offer, the more her head ached and the more confused she became.
This wasn't a decision to be made lightly.
Marriage?
That was what she wanted, wasn't it?
To be married, to have a family, children of her own.
But marriage implied love and not just on one side.

She had no doubt that marriage to John would be safe, for he would never let her down.
He was dependable and financially secure, but was he the one for her?
She wasn’t sure.
And, she was crazy even to be considering, let alone thinking of accepting him.
She couldn't love him, not in that way and never would.
And she couldn't commit herself to marriage with someone she'd didn't love not when she'd have to live with her decision for the rest of her life.

Confused, she wandered restlessly round the room, the chimes
of the hall clock startling her
as it struck one.
John had left two hours ago.
She'd sat here all that time bewildered, and emotionally drained.
No matter how heavily John's proposal laid on her mind, she just had to get some sleep.
She swallowed the last of the brandy, turned out the lights and made her way upstairs.

With a heavy heart, she climbed into bed.
But sleep wouldn't come.
Somewhere in the distance she heard a rumble of thunder and the approaching storm brought back bittersweet memories of another place.
A place where she had learned what it was to love and be loved.
A love so all consuming and glorious that she doubted she would ever find it again.

Walker!
Did she think of him?
Yes, often.
Did she dream of him?
All the time.
Did she miss him?
Yes, dreadfully.
Did her body ache for his touch?
Yes, every minute of every day and every night.
Did she love him?
Yes, with all her heart.
I
f only he'd trusted her enough to believe in her.

The storm raged and then passed on before she finally fell into a restless sleep, but the confusion in her mind remained.

The following morning Skye went to the office as usual.
Despite the lack of sleep, she was no nearer to coming to a decision than she had been the night before and dreaded John asking her again.
But to her surprise, when he put his head round her door to say ‘good morning,’ he was his usual cheerful self and never mentioned his proposal.

Seattle, the same time.

"How long before I can go back to work, doctor?"
Walker asked as the medic shone a light into his eyes.

"After a serious head injury we suggest patients take it easy.
How are the headaches?"

"No way near as bad as they were.
I get a couple of humdingers once or twice a month but the medication you gave me usually takes care of them."

The doctor consulted his notes.
"You're a very lucky man,
Mr.
Walker.
Not many people go through what you did and survive.
I
understand
you have your own business which necessitates a great deal of travel and that you fly your own plane."

"That's correct."

"As to whether you meet the criteria for your pilots'
license
, that's something you’ll have to take up with the Board of Aviation.
You're making an excellent recovery
.
How about I see you again in a month and we’ll ma
ke a final decision then?"

Walker couldn't hide his disappointment.
"I guess you know best.
Can I go home to Friday Harbor?
I could do with a change of scene."

"I don't see why not.
But take it easy, you still need to build your stamina."

Walker slipped off the examination couch and dressed quickly.
He took his cane off the back of the chair, and let himself out of the small cubicle.
He collected his prescription for painkillers and
went
out to the waiting car.

"Ho
w'd you get on?"
McCabe asked.

"The good news is that I can drive again.
I can also return to the lodge, so long as I take the ferry.
But the doc says I can't return to work for another month, and I can't fly."

"That's great news!
You'll be back at work before you know it."
McCabe glanced at his friend.
Walker’s
tight-lipped expression that said it was anything but.
"I know you're feeling down, but b
e thankful you're still here to have
this conversation.
I can't tell you how much hair I lost worrying about you lying in that hospital bed."
McCabe rubbed his bald head to emphasize his point.

Walker laughed.
"Give me a break, you dick— you've been bald for years
.
"

"Yeah, I know.
But it made you smile, which is better than looking at you when you're scowling
.
T
hat's enough to make a whale turn tail and head south."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep, and your te
mper…
Jeez, most of us have been on the receiving end of that
over the last few months."

"I'm a miserable patient; you're supposed to
humor
me."

"You can say that again.
But we're all happy to have you in the land of the living, so we let it go when you started jumping all over everyone."

"I guess I owe people a few apologies, including you."
And Skye
,
if I can find her and she'll listen to me, Walker added silently.

"Nah, we forgave you a long time ago.
When are you planning on heading over to Friday Harbor?"

"As soon as I've packed my bag.
I'm aiming to catch the next available ferry.
No offence but I'm tired of this town, and the endless round of doctors' appointments.
Do you know I've seen more doctors in the last five months than I have in thirty-seven years?
I know how a lab-rat feels.
I want some peace and quiet, and a chance to get some gentle exercise without being jostled by pedestrians every time I walk out the door."

"Sure you don't need some company?"
McCabe pulled out to overtake a taxi.
"What I'm trying to say is you're not fully recovered yet.
Is it wise for you to be at the lodge on your own?"

"If you're referring to the seizures
,
I haven't had one in three months and it's likely I won't have another.
But I know the signs, so quit worrying."

"You know where I am if there's an
ything you want to talk about."

"Such as?"

McCabe
hesitated;
he knew he was abo
ut to tread on dangerous ground.
"
T
here's the court case for one thing.
It's been on hold until now and all the evidence needs to be prepared in readiness for the hearing.
Then there's that lady computer geek—the one who gave you so much grief at the cabin.
I just wondered if you'd been in touch with her."

Walker almost growled at the mention of Skye's name.
"Are you asking from a professional or personal point of view?"

"Either.
I kinda got the impression you two had got things together."

"That's none of your damned business
,"
Walker replied and
stared out of the window at the passing stores, a brooding expres
sion settling on his features.

McCabe said nothing and concentrated on his driving
. T
he silence between t
hem
grew
tight with tension.

"I'm sorry I bit your head off
,
"
Walker said finally.
"It's been a long day, with all the tests and, yeah, I'm a little disappointed that they won't let me go back to work."

"Apology accepted.
I should have known better.
Has the District Attorney’s office been in touch with yo
u yet?"

"I gave my initial deposition yesterday and handed over all my files.
He's going to contact me when the case comes to trial.
I don't see any need for Dr
.
Dunbar to appear as a witness unless there's
something I haven't been told."

"As far as I'm aware, you're up to speed on the case."
The only thing you don't know is that you called out her name every night when you were in a coma
,
McCabe added silently.
He
turned into a vacant
parking space
outside of one Seattle's more
exclusive apartment buildings.

Walker eased his bad leg out of the car, and stood with the aid of his cane.
Closing the door he turned, rested a hand on the roof of the vehicle and leaned in through the o
pen window.

"Thanks for driving me today."

"No problem.
You take care out at the lodge.
I don't want to hear of you falling over any tree roots.
You've only got two legs so don't go damaging the other one.
And remember
,
your friends are here if you need them for anything
,
day or night."

"Yeah, I know.
And, McCabe—"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving my life."
Walker turned, and
walke
d
towards his building, his movements stiff and awkward.

Six days later, hot, sweating and more than a little breathless from the exertion, Walker came out of the woods and limped along the beach towards the cabin.
On reaching the dock, he stopped and leaned heavily on the handrail long enough for his breathing to return to normal and for him to rub the ache in his right thigh muscle.
It was barely a mile from the lodge to
the cabin, yet he felt as if he ha
d climbed Mt
.
Rainer.
Until that moment he hadn't appreciated just how unfit he'd become in t
he months following his ordeal.

Without warning, memories of Skye came tumbling back, for it was here, that he'd first seen her—a slim figure in a bright red oversized sweater.
It
was
one of those early spring days, when the air was cool, and the sun strong, the first hi
nt that winter was finally over.
He remembered how the sun had glinted on her hair, highlighting the red and gold strands.
He
was
so surprised to see her, that he
'd bitten her head off, but she ha
d stood up to him, her auburn hair swinging about her proud shoulders, anger
flashing in her eyes.

Walker rubbed the pulsing knot in his temple in a futile attempt to stav
e off the threatening headache.

"Damn it Skye, why did you walk out on me?"
Overwhelmed by feelings of nostalgia, he let out a long exhausted sigh, and shook his head to wipe out the memory.
His mind refused to co-operate.
He
limped
up the beach towards the cabin, his right leg muscles screaming from the stain of
walking over the uneven ground.

He knew from the realtor that
the cabin
was empty.
He inserted the key into the double lock, and pushed the door open.
Inside felt cold, damp and empty, just like him.
He crossed to the window, and drew back the dr
apes, allowing the sunlight in.

The room was just as it had been on the night he, Skye
,
and Ridge had left for Seattle.
A layer of dust covered every surface.
Under a lamp, on the table next to the sofa, he found
Skye’s book
, the corner of a page turned down to mark her place.
By the music centre a selection of her CDs was piled haphazardly.
In the kitchen sink, a cup waited to be washed, a fai
nt hint of lipstick on the rim.

In the bedroom they'd briefly shared, Walker felt an overwhelming sense of loss.
Here, for three brief days, he
ha
d loved her, but hadn't
told
her so.
Her clothes still hung in the wardrobe.
He took the jade dress off the hanger, and bur
ied
his face in its soft folds.

Her clothes.
That was why he was here.
In her eagerness to get away from him she
ha
d left them behind, instructing the realtor to pack and ship them back to London.
But
following
the investigation, not knowing whether he would survive or not, the lodge and the cabin had been locked up.
Unable to gain access, the realtor had inundated Walker's answering machine with demands to forward
‘
Dr
.
Dunbar's belongings to London
’
as soon as possible.
’
Now back on the island for the first time in months, he had little option
but to comply with the request.

Walker
slumped down
on the
bed;
his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched forward, a man on the edge of despair.
He felt ashamed at the way he
ha
d treated her during those last few days.
He grabbed a pillow and hugged it, chok
ing back his groans of anguish.

During his recovery, his misery was such that for weeks he wished he
ha
d died that night.
But
he hadn't and somehow he had
come to terms with the fact that no matter how much he loved Skye, he'd lost her.
The knowledge that she hadn't contact
ed
him
,
twisted inside like a knife.
If she had known what it had cost him to bring the perpetrators to justice, would it have made any difference to her?
Would she have jumped on the next plane and sat by his bedside
until he came out of the coma?