The Sergeant's Secret Son

Macy backed up half a step and looked at Willadean. “Sugary cereal? He’ll wear you out by the end of the day.”

“Can’t cook,” Willadean said. “The power’s still off. One little bowl of cereal won’t hurt him just this once.”

Somehow, Macy didn’t think that this was the first time. Otherwise, why would Willadean have the fruit-flavored stuff on hand? She arched an eyebrow. “Seems like cornflakes would be better for everyone.”

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question, Mama. Did you see the great big man?” Cory pressed.

“Yes, son. I saw him.” She turned to Willadean who was buttering a piece of cold corn bread. “I didn’t know Alex was going to be in town. Will he be here long?”

“Did you have any breakfast?” Willadean asked, carrying on her campaign to see that Macy ate. “There’s corn bread and cold ham that’ll just spoil if somebody don’t use it.”

“I had a peanut-butter sandwich, and that’ll hold me till I get to work. I have some microwave lunches I can heat up there. At least the clinic has a generator.” Was Willadean avoiding her question? “You didn’t say what Alex was doing here,” Macy reminded the elderly woman.

“Oh, don’t you remember I told you that I’d be having company coming for my birthday next week? Since Alex hurt his leg, he can’t do that jumping out of airplanes stuff anymore, so he’s interviewing for a job at the recruitin’ station in Florence. And he’ll be stayin’ here long enough to be at the party.” Willadean paused and smiled. “It’ll sure be good to have him back home where he belongs.”

Macy wasn’t certain she could second that, but perhaps Alex would stay busy with storm cleanup, have his interview and return to his base. And maybe he wouldn’t get the job. “I saw Alex last night, and he mentioned the interview,” she said. “He was helping with the tornado cleanup. I noticed he was limping and tended his knee.”

Alex hadn’t told her much at all. He’d just swept her off her feet and all but kissed her senseless. Well, actually…she reminded herself, she’d kissed him first. Then he’d kissed her back. Ten years ago, having Alex pay attention to her would have been a dream come true, but now she had a feeling that it was going to be a nightmare.

Macy couldn’t bear the thought of Alex being so close, even for just a week. With his grandmother only next door, she would be bound to run into him time after time. She wasn’t sure she would be able to handle that. Not after…

No, she wouldn’t think about that.

Cory yanked on Macy’s white lab coat. “He was really big. Maybe a hunnerd feet tall!” Cory said, spreading his arms expansively.

Willadean laughed. “He’s not that big, but he is a good-sized man.” She looked at Macy. “I reckon you’d best go on. Me ’n’ Cory will be busy all morning getting the yard cleaned up.”

“All right,” she said slowly. She reached down to hug Cory. “You be a good boy for Gramma Willadean,” she said, then planted a kiss on his sticky cheek.

Cory kissed her back. “You know I’m always good for Gramma,” he said. Then he turned back to his cereal.

“Cory child will be fine here today just like always. I can find plenty for him to do even if the power stays off.” Gramma Willadean chuckled. “What do you think I done with Alex’s father way back in the days before I had television?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Macy said as she turned to leave. And she wasn’t sure of another thing. Did she want Alex Blocker to stay in town, or did she want him to leave? If she thought she could count on him over the long haul, she supposed she’d love him to stay. But then, she didn’t know what she’d do if Alex stayed around long enough to start asking questions about her son.

BLOCK DROVE through streets striped with long shadows painted by the morning sun and littered with fallen branches and tattered leaves. Amazing how such an ugly night could lead into such a beautiful morning. The sky was crystal-clear blue, almost as if the storm had swept it clean.

He breathed deep of the crisp, clean air through his open car window. They might have had a pretty fall in a few weeks, but the storm had taken care of that, ripping most of the leaves from the trees before they had a chance to turn. At least the damage in Gramma’s part of town had been minimal.

Macy had looked gorgeous in the morning light, Block remembered suddenly. She hadn’t looked half-bad last night, either, in spite of her fatigue. But Block had a bad feeling that sunshine would do nothing to improve the appearance of that trailer park today. Still, he couldn’t have stayed at Gramma’s house with her waiting on him when there was so much to be done here. Sure, there was some minor damage at Gramma’s, but it could wait.

He turned the corner and saw what was left of Faron’s Trailer Park. As he’d predicted, the light of day had done nothing to improve the appearance of the trailers turned on their sides, roofs gone, metal twisted and shredded. Seeing it now, he marveled that he’d been able to pull anyone out alive. At least today, the fires that had given the scene such an eerie glow were no longer burning, but the acrid smell of smoke and burning wires still hung in the air.

Block parked at the little strip mall across from the trailer park and wondered where to start, who to see. As he climbed out, he spotted the man from the drugstore vainly trying to lift a huge pecan limb off of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” Block called. “Let me give you a hand with that.”

Now he felt useful. Anything to keep from thinking about his past, his future, or Macy, the girl who’d gotten away. Or wondering why he’d let her.

MACY HADN’T been able to see the damage to the clinic the night before. The walls and the windows were intact, but the gently sloping roof had taken quite a hit. Though she couldn’t tell exactly how badly it was damaged, a large section of shingles had blown away, and one of the pines that had provided welcome shade in the summer leaned against one side. There didn’t seem to be any structural damage to the building, but the tree would have to be felled, and the roof repaired…with money she didn’t have. There was insurance, but the deductible was so high, that Macy doubted it would be of much help. So much for trying to keep the premiums low…

Macy sighed and pushed her car door open. Last night when it was still raining, at least, the interior had remained dry. Maybe she could postpone the repairs until the more serious damage around town had been taken care of. The building might not look pretty right now, but it was functional.

She just wondered how long she could put off the repairs. The clinic barely broke even most of the time. Many of her patients paid what they could, some in produce or jellies and jams, and others depended on less-than-adequate insurance programs. And many times she’d done with less to make sure that her staff was paid. At least, she lived in Aunt Earnestine’s house free and clear.

A vehicle pulled up, and Macy turned around to see if she already had a patient. She was pleased to find a utility truck turning into the parking lot.

“Morning, Doc,” the driver said as he climbed out and tipped his hard hat. “Figured getting your power back on was a priority.”

“Yes, thank you,” Macy said as she stepped out of her own car. Just seeing the power truck was enough to energize her and brighten her day. And her clinic, she thought with a wry chuckle.

Maybe the situation wasn’t quite as desperate as she’d first imagined.

She collected her medical bag and purse and hurried to unlock the front door. If she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be organized before the first patient arrived today.

THE HARD WORK kept Block from thinking about the interview scheduled for later that week, or wondering about Macy or the change in the town. He had mixed emotions about Lyndonville. When he was growing up it had seemed such an unfriendly place, and for a kid growing up on the wrong side of the railroad spur, life had not been easy. Yet, people he cared about lived here.

He cut the power to the chainsaw and stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow. If he’d thought about it, he could have brought a sweatband from his workout clothes, but he’d had to make do with a red railman’s bandana the guy from the drugstore had given him. Funny, he didn’t even know the man’s name.

Block had been one of the first in line to purchase a gas-powered chainsaw when the hardware store opened, and now he was working his way through the town, clearing streets and cutting up broken limbs wherever he was needed. He’d learned to use the saw in the air force, and cutting down broken limbs or cutting up fallen trees wasn’t that much different than creating and setting up an airstrip out of nothing in the middle of nowhere. And he was doing something useful.

He looked up and was surprised to discover that he’d worked his way over to Macy’s clinic. Had his choice of direction been intentional?

A tree, uprooted by the storm, was balanced precariously against the roof. Torn shingles littered the ground like fallen leaves, and there wasn’t a soul in sight who seemed to be doing anything about it. The clinic was busy, though, if the number of cars in the small parking lot was any indication.

Block stepped inside the door and threaded his way through a maze of patients on hard plastic chairs and asked the harried receptionist if she needed the tree taken down.

The woman looked up, a wary expression on her face. “How much?”

Block suspected there were already people out there charging exorbitant fees for work, but he wasn’t one of them. “It’s on me,” he said as the phone rang. “I just want to help.”

“Have at it,” the woman said with a weary smile. She turned to answer the phone.

He hadn’t seen Macy, and maybe he should have checked with her, but the woman hadn’t hesitated when she’d told him to go ahead, so he figured it was all right.

“I’VE TAKEN a throat culture, Mrs. Pelham, but I don’t think it’s…strep—” Macy stopped at the sound of thumping on the roof. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it was footsteps.

“Sometimes we have squirrels in the attic,” she said to her patient’s mother. If it was a squirrel, it was a very big squirrel, she thought as she wrote out a scrip for an antibiotic. “I’m going to give you a prescription, but don’t fill it until I get the labs back and call you. Chances are, by the time the tests come back, Cassie will be feeling her old self again anyway. Just give her lots of liquids and let her eat if she’s hungry.” She gave Mrs. Pelham, a new mother, a reassuring smile.

Before Mrs. Pelham could respond, the sound of a chainsaw at close quarters ripped through the air.

“What the…!” Macy went to the window and opened the venetian blinds just as a large mass of green and brown fell past the window and landed on the lawn with a thump.

She turned back to Mrs. Pelham. “Do you have any other questions?” Macy asked. “I hate to rush you, but I have to find out what’s going on.”

“No, ma’am, I understand.” The woman gathered up her baby and assorted paraphernalia and turned toward the door.

Macy left the chart on the exam table and brushed past the woman and child in the hall and hurried out to the reception desk.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Macy asked the receptionist as she headed for the door.

Bettina looked up from a phone call and said, “A guy came by and asked if we’d like to have the tree taken down. He said he wouldn’t charge, so I said to go ahead.”

“You didn’t check with me first?”

Bettina gestured toward the teeming waiting room. “I didn’t think I needed to bother you.”

Macy sighed. “You could have warned me. Who is it?”

The receptionist shrugged. “I don’t know. Sure is good-looking, though. He could definitely be Mr. October in some hunk-of-the-month calendar.”

“I’m going out to check on our benefactor, and then I’ll be back for the next patient.”

She stepped outside and shaded her eyes with her hands to see who was up on her roof. With the sun in her eyes, all she could see was a silhouette, but if the silhouette was any indication, hunk was right.

“Hello, up there. Can I speak to you for a minute?”

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