When Dreams Come True Page 8

  Mandy took his hand as they approached the steps to the deck. “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

  Dinner? He should have planned something. Zoey had told him she was going to work late at school, and yet he had gotten so wrapped up in the playhouse, he’d forgotten all about dinner. “How about pizza?”

  “Yes! I want cheese pizza.”

  “Okay. Do you know what Blake and your mother like?”

  She exaggerated a shrug, cocking her head to the side.

  “I guess I’d better ask them then.” Dane opened the door to the kitchen and entered, flipping on the light as night fell.

  Mandy ran ahead and darted down the hallway to the den. Dane heard the television come on as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. Tara’s cries resounded through the house, making a mockery of his good intentions.

  He found Zoey in his youngest daughter’s bedroom, rocking her. She didn’t look toward him when he came inside, but he could tell she knew he was there by the stiffening of her body.

  “I’m ordering something to eat. I thought pizza. What kind do you like?”

  “Canadian bacon.”

  “How about Blake?”

  “The same.”

  “Will she be all right?” Helplessness swamped him as Tara squirmed and whined, not happy with any position she was held in.

  “I hope so.”

  “I’ll order the pizza, then come back and take over. You haven’t had a chance to get comfortable since coming home.”

  “That’s okay. I’m used to this.”

  Zoey’s expression forbade further discussion. Dane backed out of the room and went downstairs to find the telephone book. After placing the pizza order, he checked on Mandy to make sure she was all right, then set out the dishes for their takeout dinner. When he was finished, he stood in the kitchen, wondering what he should do next.

  For a few seconds he thought of going back to Tara’s room and forcing the issue with Zoey. No, he didn’t know his youngest daughter’s habits yet, but that didn’t mean he had neglected her. The last time he had changed Tara’s diaper, an hour before Zoey had come home from school, his daughter hadn’t been feverish.

  He started for the stairs again when he saw Zoey at the top of them. Their gazes linked, the tired lines of her face gripping him in a viselike hold. She descended the steps, breaking visual contact with him. Her slow pace, her grasp on the banister, emphasized her exhaustion.

  “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” he said, blocking her path at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’m not disappointed, Dane.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “That’s a good question. I don’t know what I feel right now. I haven’t slept well since your return and it’s catching up with me.”

  “Then go to bed after dinner. I can make sure Mandy and Blake get to bed and check in on Tara. Is she asleep?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached out and took her arm. “Look, I know I haven’t been around, but I’m here now. Let me help you.”

  She released a long, deep breath. “I don’t think I have a choice. I hope the pizza gets here—”

  The doorbell rang, cutting off Zoey’s last words.

  Dane hurried to answer it. After paying for the two large pizzas, he called Mandy to dinner, gave the boxes to Zoey and took the stairs to get Blake. Nearing his son’s bedroom, he thought of the times he had faced down criminals and realized he was more anxious now than then. In the past he had known what to do in those type of situations, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do to get through to his son.

  He knocked on his door and waited until Blake said, “Come in.” The surprised look on his son’s face made it obvious he’d been expecting Zoey. That look quickly evolved into a scowl.

  “Dinner’s ready. We’re having pizza.” Dane turned to leave, then stopped and glanced back at his son. “I sure could use your help with the playhouse. Mandy’s great but some things take two guys.”

  He didn’t expect Blake to say anything and his son didn’t disappoint him. His continued frown was the last thing Dane saw as he closed the door. He went by Tara’s room and peeked in to make sure she was still sleeping. Walking softly to her crib, he peered down at his youngest child. Love inundated him. He hadn’t known about her until recently and already he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  Tara’s cheeks were flushed. Moving, she whimpered, her eyes still closed. Dane started to stroke her, hoping to soothe her, but before he had a chance, she settled down, sticking her thumb into her mouth and sucking on it, just like Mandy had at that age. The memory was bittersweet.

  * * *

  After a hot bath Zoey dressed for bed, then walked down the hall to see how Tara was before she went to sleep. When she eased open the door, she discovered Dane sitting in the rocking chair in the dark. He looked toward her but didn’t say anything. She tiptoed to the crib, checked on Tara, then turned toward her husband.

  “You don’t have to stay in here,” she whispered, realizing she had been unfair to him earlier. That had been her exhaustion and wariness talking.

  “I know.” He unfolded his long length from the chair and stood. He followed her to the door. In the hallway, he continued, “I need to get Mandy ready for bed anyway. Good night.”

  He turned away. She stopped him with her hand on his arm. “I’m the one who should be sorry. Tara’s been having trouble with her ears for the past six months. This could be another ear infection. There was no way you would know that.” She released her hold on him. “If she isn’t better tomorrow morning, I’ll have to take her to the doctor.”

  “I can if you need to go to work.”

  “No!”

  Dane stepped back.

  “I mean, I will do it,” Zoey said.

  “She’s my daughter, too.”

  “Yes, but—” How could she tell him she was afraid to surrender too much to him? What would happen when he left again? She couldn’t become dependent on him. “You haven’t driven the van yet,” she offered as an inane excuse.

  “I still remember how to drive and my license is still valid. I haven’t really had a need to. That doesn’t mean I can’t.” He curled his hands into fists, his lean features pulled into a somber expression.

  Too weary to think beyond going to bed, she said, “We’ll discuss it tomorrow morning.” She pivoted and walked toward her bedroom.

  The second her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes, sleep descended quickly like the setting sun in the tropics.

  Someone shook her shoulder. She didn’t want to get up. The black void beckoned.

  “Zoey, get up! It’s Tara. She’s burning up.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Zoey shot up straight, her heart pounding. “Where is she?”

  Dane switched on the lamp next to her bed. “Right here.”

  She took her child into her arms, feeling the heat emanating off her. Tara’s lethargic state with the occasional whimper alarmed Zoey. She scrambled off the bed, still cradling her youngest to her chest. “I’d better take her temperature.”

  “Where’s the thermometer?”

  “In my bathroom. In the cabinet.”

  As Dane left, Zoey smoothed Tara’s hair from her forehead and rocked her in her arms, cooing to her. A minute later Dane was back, thrusting the thermometer into her hand. Zoey took it and stuck it into her daughter’s ear. The thermometer registered one hundred five. The beating of her heart accelerated, a film of perspiration coating her face as she fought her panic. None of her children had ever had a temperature spike that high.

  “I need to get her to the emergency room,” she said in a high-pitched voice that conveyed her fear. She gave Tara to Dane so she could throw on some clothes.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, someone has to stay with Mandy and Blake.”

  “Call your mother. I’m coming with you.”

  The firmness in his voice coupled with her worry p
rompted her to say, “Fine, if she can get here in a few minutes.”

  Zoey quickly placed a call to her mother, who assured her she would be there immediately. After hanging up, Zoey stepped into her walk-in closet and threw on the nearest sweatshirt and pair of jeans.

  When she emerged, dressed, she found Dane cuddling Tara, stroking her back, concern engraved on his features that had to mirror her expression. She glanced at the digital clock on the beside table and noted the late hour—one in the morning.

  She took Tara from Dane, needing to hold her daughter, as though she could absorb the heat raging through her child’s body. Walking into the hallway, she noticed that Dane was still dressed and said, “Thank goodness you checked on her before going to bed.”

  “I wasn’t going to bed. I fell asleep in the rocking chair and woke up when I slumped to the side. I heard Tara moving around, moaning softly, and I got up to see what was wrong.”

  “Let’s get her in her car seat so when Mom arrives we can leave right away.” Zoey retrieved a light blanket from Tara’s crib to cover her daughter, then proceeded down the stairs.

  As Zoey strapped Tara into her seat, her mother pulled up next to her van and slid out. Zoey clutched the door in relief.

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of the kids.” Emma hugged Zoey.

  She ran a shaky hand through her hair that she hadn’t even bothered to brush. “Thanks, Mom. I don’t know how long we’ll be, but I’ll give you a call when I know something.”

  Dane came around the van and held out his hand. “I’m driving.”

  “Are you sure?” Zoey asked, dropping the keys into his palm. He hadn’t driven—in fact, had avoided driving—since he had come back five days before.

  “Yes.” He strode to the driver’s side and got in.

  “I’ll be praying, hon,” Emma said, stepping away from the van while Zoey climbed in.

  During the ten-minute drive to the hospital, silence ruled. Zoey’s thoughts scattered into a hundred different directions. Each time she latched onto a fragment she shoved it away in horror. Illness after illness taunted her the whole way until her breathing was labored and rivulets of sweat rolled down her face even though the spring air was chilly.

  At the emergency room Zoey reluctantly handed over Tara to the nurse and doctor on duty, Zoey’s whole body trembling by the time she released her daughter. Standing off to the side, she watched as the medical team began to work on Tara. Her legs weak, Zoey clasped Dane. He wound his arm around her, pressing her close to his side and keeping her upright.

  God, help Tara. Please don’t let anything bad be wrong. Please let her be all right.

  Zoey said the silent prayer over and over, her gaze never leaving the scene taking place in the emergency room cubicle. And through the whole ordeal, Dane’s strength surrounded her. His steady presence cracked her resistance and planted a seed of hope.

  * * *

  “They want me back on the job. I’m returning to South America and will be gone for the next six months,” Dane said, standing in the doorway. “They need me.”

  “No! We need you! You can’t leave again.” Zoey took a step toward her husband, but he backed away.

  With one last look, he turned to leave. She reached out to stop him and her hand clenched the air. He was gone, as if he had never been there in the first place.

  “No!” Zoey jerked awake, catching herself before falling out of the rocking chair in Tara’s room.

  Bright sunlight leaked through the drawn curtains. Zoey pushed her hair back from her forehead and shook the sleep from her foggy mind. She must have slept for a while. Her muscles protested the uncomfortable position she’d been in and screamed for her to stretch them.

  She rose, her legs unsteady. Clutching the back of the chair, she rolled her head around in a full circle, lifting her arms high above her head, as though she could touch the ceiling, then arched her back, curling her shoulders.

  Checking the crib, she noticed that Tara was still sound asleep, her chest rising and falling gently. Zoey fingered her child’s cheek and breathed easier when she felt coolness against her skin.

  She bowed her head and whispered, “Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for healing my daughter. Watch over her and keep her close to You. Please help her to get totally well. And thank You for Dane’s presence at my side last night. It was nice not to go through it alone. I’ve felt so alone for a long time. Thank You, God, for being in my life. Amen.”

  “Zoey, is Tara all right?”

  She spun around, facing Dane, standing in the doorway. Her nightmare came back, seizing her breath. She forced a deep gulp of air that burned as she held it for a few heartbeats too long. “Yes. She’s still sleeping. I was praying.”

  “She scared me last night.” He crossed the room.

  “Me, too. She’s had ear infections before but nothing as bad as that. Thank you for being with me at the hospital.” She was tempted to lean against him as she had done in the emergency room while the nurse had given Tara a tepid water bath to help bring her fever down. Light-headed, Zoey swayed toward him but caught herself before she gave in to her impulse. She couldn’t get used to Dane’s support. Like in her nightmare, he could be gone at any time.

  He took her hand. “Come on. You need some rest. I called the school and said you wouldn’t be in today.”

  “I just took a nap.”

  Dane checked his watch. “Yeah, all of forty minutes. You need to lie down in your bed and really get some sleep.”

  “But—”

  He placed his forefinger over her mouth, stilling her words. “I’ll make sure Tara’s all right while you sleep. You don’t need to worry, Zoey. I’m here.” He tugged her toward the door.

  For how long? her sleep-deprived mind screamed while her lips tingled from his touch, making a mockery of her cynical caution where her husband was concerned.

  Out in the hallway Zoey slipped her hand from his, needing to sever any physical contact in order to keep her emotional distance. “You didn’t get any more sleep than I did. In fact, you got less, so if anyone should go lie down, it should be you.” She was determined to deal with the situation as she had the past few years without him.

  A half grin appeared on his face. “Let’s make a deal.” He covered the space between them, taking both her hands and tugging her toward her bedroom. “If you lie down and take a nap, I will do the same right after you get up. Deal?”

  At the doorway into her room she spied her bed, the covers messed up from her interrupted sleep the night before. Their softness beckoned her. Okay, maybe she needed to rest for a little while and would let him watch Tara while she did. That didn’t mean she would come to depend on him again, she thought as he drew her forward.

  “Don’t let me sleep longer than two hours. I’m sure I won’t, but wake me up if I do. And if Tara wakes up, she can have some more medication for her fever in an hour and a half.”

  “I’ll take care of everything, Zoey.” He gently pushed her down onto the mattress.

  When she curled onto her side, he drew the top sheet up to her shoulder, bent down and kissed her on the cheek, then quietly left her alone to deal with her tumultuous feelings. Why did he have to go and kiss her? Why did he have to be so nice and—there for her? Now, after years of not being?

  * * *

  “I appreciated your help today with the team.”

  “Anytime.” Dane took Alex Stone’s hand and shook it.

  “Be careful what you say. I might take you up on that offer.”

  Dane looked the man in the eye. “I meant it. I enjoyed helping today.” I need something to do, he silently added. Especially if it involves Blake.

  With a glance toward the group of boys all drinking their pop, Alex said, “We practice every Tuesday and Thursday evening here, if the weather is decent. My assistant coach backed out at the last minute and no one has stepped forward.”

  “Then you’ve got yourself a new assistant coac
h.”

  “Good. Blake can fill you in on our procedures and this league. Like today, our games are usually Saturday. We’ll probably go to at least two tournaments, which if we win, our games will take up the whole weekend. These guys are getting serious about their soccer, especially your son.”

  Dane located Blake in the crowd, his head tipped back as he downed the last of his pop. “Yes, I could tell. He gives one hundred percent.”

  “The work you did with the goalie was great. That move you showed him cost the other team a goal. I hope you can continue to help him. Now, let me introduce you to the guys.”

  Alex walked the few feet to the cluster of boys around the ice cooler, motioning for them to come closer. When he had their attention, he said, “How about a cheer for our new assistant coach, Mr. Witherspoon, who has graciously volunteered his time?”

  The whole team rooted for Dane, except his son, who stepped away from the group, his shoulders hunched, his head down, which had become his usual stance of late.

  Alex raised his arms to quiet the boys. “From what I understand he’s had a lot of experience playing soccer. His last position was goalie so we’ll be able to use his expertise. I know how much you all want to win the league this year. Mr. Witherspoon will be here to help us go all the way.”

  Another cheer went up with the team punching their fists into the air. Again Dane noticed the absence of enthusiasm from his own son even though he lifted his arm as the others did and let out a yell. He’d been in Sweetwater a week and nothing had changed with his son.

  The boys began to disperse, grabbing their gear and leaving with their parents. Blake trotted toward his bag, slowly stooped and picked it up, then headed for the minivan, his shoulders still slumped, his head still bowed as though the ground was the most fascinating object he’d ever seen.