Then Matt had watched Ellie, off and on that day, always having an excuse to be near her. It was a convention and medical conference after all. The hotel ballroom was filled with various displays of new medical products and pharmaceuticals. Somehow, the ones that had seemed to catch his attention had always been near her booth. And while he’d tried not to be obvious about watching her, Ellie had caught him at it a time or two, leaving him with a blush on his face and a shrug on his shoulder. Much the way a schoolboy with a crush would act.
But those looks she’d caught—they’d led to a second night, one with much less talking and much more passion. In fact, she had already been in his bed when he’d gone back to his room, having bribed a maid to let her in. And that night it had been like two desperate people clinging together at the end of the world. In some ways, that’s what it was. The end of their little world as, in three days’ time, he’d be back in a hospital in Mosul, putting pieces of injured soldiers back together. That’s who Matt was. And that was his world. Not this one.
Still, as Matt buttoned his shirt and headed to the hotel room door that second morning he wondered if something like this, someone like Ellie, could ever have a place in his life. It was a nice dream, but in his experience dreams didn’t come true, and it was all he could do to make it through his reality.
Someone like Ellie deserved more. But he was a man who had nothing to give.
Opening the door quietly, so not to disturb her, Matt stepped into the hall, took one last look at Ellie before he shut the door, then leaned against the wall for a moment, watching the hotel maid making her way slowly down the corridor with her cart. By the time she reached this room, he’d be on a plane to Hawaii, and from there a military transport back to Iraq.
“I DON’T KNOW what to do with him,” Matt McClain said, looking down at the little tow-headed boy in the firm grasp of his second cousin, or half-cousin, or whatever it was that related them distantly.
Sarah Clayton held the boy’s hand like she was holding on to a dog that was about to get away. Tight, and with a purpose. But not friendly. There was nothing friendly or nurturing in her. Nothing compassionate. Nothing to indicate she cared at all for the kid. “The same thing you think I’m supposed to do with him. Only I’m not going to do it. I took care of your sister those last two weeks, and I’ve had him with me ever since. But you’re here, and you’re more blood to him than I am so, he’s yours. Besides...”
She held out an envelope—one that had been sealed, opened then sealed again. “Janice left you this.”
He opened it, and looked down at the shaky handwriting—the handwriting of a dying woman. A lump formed in his throat and he turned his back to Sarah as he read it.
Dear Matt,
If you’re reading this, that means the cancer has finally beaten me. The doctors said I was too late for treatment, but that’s been my life. Too late for everything. It’s called non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and I’m sure you know all about it since you’re a doctor.
Yes, I know you’re a doctor. Heard it from a man in the casino where I was working. He was drunk and saying all kinds of crazy things...things that didn’t make sense. His name was Carter, I think, and he said he was a doctor. I don’t know if that’s true, but he was going on about his buddy Matt, from Forgeburn, who saved his life. Great doctor, he called you. And I’m sure you are.
Matt stopped reading for a moment and took a breath. Carter Holmes had been his best buddy since med-school days. He’d sustained almost fatal injuries and, yes, he’d saved his life. “Do you know how long Janice was in Vegas?” he asked Sarah, without turning to face her.
“For a while, I think. She told me she moved around a lot. Changed her name so your old man wouldn’t find her. Said she was always looking over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t coming after her.”
Matt clenched his jaw, not wanting to read any more but knowing he had to.
I don’t blame you for not sending for me, Matty. We were both kids. Neither of us knew what to do. But I did wait until I couldn’t stay there anymore. You were gone, Dad left me behind, and even though I wasn’t even fifteen I knew I had to leave there, too.
I spent a lot of time going from place to place, never settling down. I was afraid to. Afraid I’d get too comfortable someplace and let my guard down. So I always moved on. Funny thing is, all those years I was running I guess Dad had died right after he left Forgeburn. At least that’s what Sarah said. Guess neither of us had to run away, did we?
Matt turned to Sarah. “He’s dead?”
She nodded. “They found him in one of the canyons. They think he’d passed on quite a while before one of the cowboys stumbled on him. He was living like he always did, they said. Hoarding trash and drinking his life away. Folks around here said it was the drink that took him. Didn’t really care to find out.”
Matt shut his eyes. So many wasted years he and Janice had had when they could have stayed together. But they’d become two kids out on their own, in a world they didn’t know. He’d found his salvation in the army. But Janice... Matt turned away from Sarah again, before she could see the tears brimming in his eyes.
I did one good thing, though, Matty. His name is Lucas. I don’t know who his father is, and there’s no sense looking. But he’s a good boy—the only thing I’ve done right. I want you to take care of him for me. Make sure he has better than what we did.
Do for him, Matty, what you couldn’t do for me.
That was where the letter ended. No last words, no signature. “Is this all?” he asked Sarah.
“It was all she could do to get that on paper. She went to sleep with the pen still in her hand and she didn’t...”
Matt nodded as he looked across the sandy expanse at his sister’s grave. A few mourners were still there—maybe five or six and he wondered who they were and why they had come. Forgeburn had never been a real home to them. All it had ever been was the place from which they wanted to escape. “Why did she come back here?” he asked.
“Because she wanted to contact you, but she wasn’t up to it. And I was the only relative, even though I live a good fifty miles from here.”
“So, Lucas,” Matt said, once he’d regained his composure and turned around again to face Sarah. “You’ve got kids. You know how to take care of them. I don’t. And I’m still on active duty. I have to report back in two months.” He’d been granted emergency family leave to come and make arrangements for Lucas, but those arrangements didn’t include keeping him. That thought had never crossed his mind as he’d assumed Lucas was already settled in with Sarah. But apparently not. “And I’m scheduled to go back to Iraq later this year. How, in all of that, does he fit in?”
“Look, Matt. I kept him until you got here, just to be nice, but this is where it ends. Janice named you as his legal guardian, the social worker from child services has seen to the legalities of it, which makes him your responsibility, not mine. So adopt him yourself, or find someone else who wants him—it’s your decision. And I don’t mean to be unreasonable about this, but my husband doesn’t want him. We’ve got enough to handle without adding another child to it. So...” She shrugged. “Take him. Or get rid of him. Either way, I’m out of it.”
Take him. Just like that. Take a nephew he hadn’t even known he had until he’d received word his sister had died. Matt wasn’t opposed to family responsibility. In a lot of ways, he liked the idea of honoring the obligation, even in a family like his. A mother who had left when he’d been five. A sister who had—well, ended up back where she’d started. A dad who apparently had died without notice.
But