Danielle Steel - The Promise

But there was a strange stillness when Marion came into the room five minutes later. Wicky was standing back from the bed with a look of solemnity, and the nurse had left the room. The New England sun was streaming across the bed, and from somewhere there was the steady sound of water dripping into a sink. Everything was much too still, and suddenly her heart flew to her mouth. It was like when Frederick … oh God… her hand went unwillingly to her heart and she stood frozen in the doorway looking from Wicky to the bed. And then she saw him, and her eyes filled with tears. He was smiling at her … her boy. It wasn't like Frederick at all. A sob caught in her throat and she walked to the bed with trembling legs, and then she bent down and touched his face with her hands.

“Hi, Mom.” They were the most beautiful words she had ever heard, and the tears poured down her face as she smiled.

“I love you, Michael.”

“I love you, too.” Even Wickfield had tears in his eyes as he watched them. The boy, so young and handsome and alive again, and the woman who had given so much in the past two days. He slipped quietly from the room, and they never heard him go.

She held her son gently in her arms for a long moment as he ran a hand over her hair. “Take it easy, Mom. Everything's okay. Christ, I'm hungry.” Marion laughed. He sounded so good. He was alive again. And all hers.

“We will get you the biggest, bestest, superest breakfast you've ever seen, if Wicky says it's all right.”

“To hell with Wicky. I'm starving.”

“Michael!” She couldn't be angry at him, though. She could only love him. But then as she looked at him, she saw his face cloud over as though he were suddenly remembering why he was there. Before that, he had acted as if he had just awakened from having his tonsils out. All he wanted was ice cream and his mom. But now there was a great deal more in his face, and he tried to sit up. He didn't know how to say the words, but he had to ask. He searched her face, and she kept her eyes on his and his hand tightly held in hers. “Take it easy, darling.”

“Mom … the others … the other night … I remember …”

“Ben has already gone back to Boston with his father. He's pretty badly banged up but he's all right. A lot more all right than you were.” She said it with a sigh and tightened her grip on his hand. She knew what was coming next. But she was prepared for it.

“And … Nancy?” His face was ivory white as he said her name. “Nancy, Mom?” The tears already stood out in his eyes. He could see the answer in his mother's face as she sat down carefully in the chair next to him and ran a gentle hand along the outline of his face.

“She didn't make it, darling. They did all they could. But the damage was just too great.” She paused for only the slightest of seconds and then went on. “She died early this morning.”

“Did you see her?” He was still searching her face for something more.

“I sat with her for a while last night.”

“Oh, God … and I wasn't there. Oh, Nancy… ” He turned his head into the pillow and cried like a child as Marion held his shoulders. He said her name over and over and over again, until at last he could cry no more. And when he turned to look at his mother again, she saw something in his face that she had never seen there before. It was as though he had lost something of himself in those moments when he said Nancy's name. As though part of him had bled away and died.

Chapter 6

Nancy heard the landing gear grind out of the plane's belly, and for the hundredth time since the flight began she felt the touch of the hand that had touched her aim before. It was strangely comforting to feel the nurse's hand, and it pleased her that she could already tell the difference between them. One woman had thin, delicate hands with long narrow fingers; her hands were always cold but there was great strength in the way she held on to Nancy. It made Nancy feel brave again just to touch her. The other nurse had warm, chubby soft hands that made one feel safe and loved. She patted Nancy's arm a lot, and it was she who had given Nancy the two shots for the pain. She had a soft soothing voice. The first woman had a slight accent. Nancy had already come to like them both.

“It won't be much longer now, dear. We can see the bay now. We'll be there in no time at all.”

Actually, it would be another twenty minutes. And Peter Gregson was counting on that as he raced along the freeway in the black Porsche. The ambulance was meeting him there. He could have one of the girls from his office pick his car up later that morning. He wanted to ride into the city with the girl. He was intrigued by her. She had to be Someone for Marion Hillyard to be so concerned about her. Four hundred thousand dollars was quite a sum, and only three of that was going to him. The other hundred was to keep the girl comfortable in the next year and a half. And she would be. He had promised Marion Hillyard that. But he would have seen to that anyway. It was part of what he did. He would get to know the girl's very soul. They would become more than friends; he would mean everything to her and she to him. It had to be that way, because by the time that new face was born, she would be the person she looked like. Peter Gregson was going to give birth to Nancy McAllister, after a pregnancy of eighteen long months. She was going to have to be a very brave girl. But she would be. He would see to that. They would face it together. The very idea excited him. He loved what he did, and in an odd way he already loved Nancy. What he would make of her. What she would be. He would give her all that he had to give.

He looked at his watch and stepped on the gas. The car was one of his favorite releases. He also flew his own plane, went scuba diving whenever he had time, skied, and had climbed several mountains in Europe. He was a man who liked to scale heights, in every possible way. To defy the impossible and win. It was why he loved his work. People accused him of playing God. But it wasn't really that. It was the thrill of insuperable odds that stimulated him. And he had never yet been defeated. Not by women or mountains or sky, not even by a patient. At forty-seven he had won at everything he touched, and he was going to win now. He and Nancy were going to win together. His dark hair blew softly in the breeze and his eyes almost crackled with life. He still had a tan from his recent week in Tahiti, and he was wearing gray slacks and a soft blue cashmere sweater that was just the color of his eyes. He was always impeccably dressed, perfectly put together. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, but there was more to him than that. It was his vitality, his electricity, that caught one's attention even more than his looks did.

He pulled up to the curb at the airport precisely at the moment Nancy's plane was touching down. He showed a special pass to a policeman, who nodded and promised to keep an eye on the car. Even the policeman smiled at Gregson. Peter was a man no one could ignore. He had an almost irresistible charm, and a strength that showed through everything he did. It made people want to be near him.

He wove his way expertly into the airport lobby and spoke rapidly to a ground supervisor. The man picked up a phone, and within moments Peter was ushered through a door, down a flight of stairs, and into a tiny airport vehicle, then rushed out to the run-way, where he saw the ambulance standing by, the attendants waiting for the patient to be taken off the plane. He thanked his driver and hurried to the ambulance, where he quickly checked inside to see that his orders had been carried out. They had been, to the letter. Everything was there that he needed. It was hard to tell what kind of shape she might be in after the flight, but he had wanted her in San Francisco immediately, so he could keep a close eye on things. He had a lot of planning to do, and work would begin in just a few days.