of his right thumb exposed. X-rays had revealed seven broken bones and a fractured radius. He was having a hard time getting used to this unwanted attachment to his body.
He watched Alex cross the spacious lobby with its marble floors and ornate archways. The Sara Binyons Retreat was located about two hours south of Chicago in a small town near Terre Haute, Indiana. It was out in the country on two hundred acres of peaceful streams and wooded meadows.
It was not a place for the criminally insane or patients with serious mental problems. Some prominent politicians and Hollywood-types were known to frequent Sara Binyons when they wanted to get away from their hectic lives.
On a wide-screen TV in the lobby Jake could see a re-broadcast of a ceremony held earlier at Arlington National Cemetery. President Whittier had awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, Congressional Medal of Honor, and Purple Heart posthumously to Sergeant Booker J. Jones, Calvin Leeds, Shamus Lewis, and Harvey Wilson.
The crowd of politicians, family, war veterans, and press, applauded President Whittier’s remarkable gesture. The screen showed Carl standing with his arm around a black-veiled Matilda Banks, Hap’s sister, who clutched the folded American flag.
The broadcast cut away to the Korean War Veterans Memorial at the west end of the mall near the Lincoln Memorial. Workmen had just finished engraving the four names of the honored recipients in the granite wall. The camera panned the mural of sand-blasted images of medics, chaplains, and support troops. Near an image of the Korean peninsula were the words, Freedom is Not Free.
The TV reporter made a closing statement, “More than fifty-four thousand Americans died in the Korean War. That number has just increased by four.”
“It was still a wonderful gesture on the president’s part,” Abby remarked as she appeared in the doorway, a picture of tranquillity wrapped in festive cotton and a sunshine smile.
“His arm is probably still sore from Sam twisting it.” Jake looked past Abby’s shoulder at Sam. A stocky, red- haired nurse with a cherub face was coaxing Sam off the couch.
Jake leaned against the door jamb finding it hard to restrain the impulse to run in there and carry Sam out of this place. The last time he had seen her hair loose and carefree, she had been lying in his bed. He looked away again.
Abby tapped his arm. “Let’s go.”
Nurse Petree placed her hands on Sam’s shoulders. “It’s time to go back to your room, Dear.” Mrs. Petree’s fingers touched Sam’s necklace. “Oh, my. I’m sorry, Miss Casey. Jewelry is not allowed.” She fumbled with the clasp. “Let me give this to your mother before she leaves.”
Sam watched as the sunlight bounced off the lightning bolt pendant. The way the nurse held the necklace reminded her of another time it was held in front of her, with the pendant swinging, someone’s muscular arms reaching around her neck to fasten it. Sam inhaled the scent of a woodsy aftershave. She remembered a man’s rugged, handsome face.
Reaching out, she grabbed the necklace from Mrs. Petree’s fingers. For a brief moment, other memories flooded back. That same man, holding her tightly in a darkened room. She could see his chiseled features, the sharp angle of his chin. Her head turned quickly toward the door.
“Miss Casey, wait!” Mrs. Petree hurried after Sam.
Sam rushed past the potted calla lilies resting on the sill of the tall, narrow windows lining the wide hallway. When they heard the commotion, Abby and Jake turned around. Cautiously, Sam approached Jake. Her eyes moved from his face to the pendant. Slowly, she reached up and fastened it around his neck.
Jake gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, inhaling the smell of her hair. He could feel her body tremble but she didn’t push away. He whispered, “Just remember, I love you.”
She didn’t pull away when he kissed her on the mouth. Her face was masked in confusion as she backed away from him. As Mrs. Petree led her back down the hallway, Sam stole several glances over her shoulder at Jake.
Jake and Abby walked along the brick circular driveway to a sidewalk framed in low shrubs. Tall oak trees near the curb loomed overhead, shading them from the late morning sun.
“You will move in with us, Jacob. You are family now. It will make the waiting less painful.”
“Listen, Abby, I know it’s customary for you to choose your daughter’s husband.”
Abby hugged him and laughed. “But Jacob, you WERE my choice.”
Puzzled, he thought back to the strange visions he had of Sam when he was in the whirlpool, the all- consuming love that seemed to mushroom overnight.
“You mean that my feelings for Sam aren’t real?”
“Of course they are. But there was so much animosity between the two of you at first that I didn’t think you’d ever get to know each other. So I just had you see each other through my eyes, to see the good points. The spirits took over from there.”
“I just wish Sam and I had been able to talk. We left a lot of things unsaid. When she remembers the last argument we had…” Jake gave a hopeless shrug. “I don’t know if she’s going to be very happy with this arrangement.”
“She has no choice in the matter.”
“Everyone has a choice, Abby. Besides, she’s very headstrong.”
“Ahh, yes.” Abby entwined her arm through his as they continued their walk to the curb. “But who do you think she got it from?”
Abby knew fate always wins out. When she had touched Jake’s scars that day, she saw more than just his pained childhood. She saw children, all blond-haired. Some with blue eyes so bright they seemed to glow. And some with soft brown, the color of doeskin.
