She cried so hard and so long that she never heard the knock on the door, didn't notice the whoosh of evening breeze sweep through the room as the door opened. Didn't register the whispered, "Oh, for heaven's sake."

What finally got through to her was the wet rasp of a tongue against her tearstained cheeks. She opened her eyes to see Snowdrop's precious little face. Sage let out a little groan and hugged her dog tight, launching into another round of heart-sore sobs that lasted a good five minutes. Finally, it filtered through her head that Snowdrop hadn't found her way here all by herself. She opened her eyes expecting to see Celeste or Nic or maybe even Sarah. "Rose?"

Her sister sat at the bottom corner of the bed. "What's the matter, Goober?"

Her use of the old childhood nickname registered. In that moment, Sage was just weak enough-or perhaps strong enough-to reach out to her sister. "Something horrible happened in Africa, Rose. Something so horrific that it haunts me still. I can't be around children and blood. I just can't."

Then she told her about the bus accident, Colt's request, and her refusal. "I am pathetic, Rose. Just pathetic. No wonder you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Sage," Rose insisted. "I miss you."

Sage looked up at her, tears flowing, and Rose reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Sage's ear. "I think we got crossways when Dad died and we were both too wounded to be able to straighten the situation out. After that, well, we've always been hardheaded. We dug in with our positions and neither one of us was willing to give."

"You tried. You came to Eternity Springs. You're here."

"Five years after the fact." Tears pooled in her sister's eyes as she added, "I'm ashamed it took me this long to be ready to listen."

Sage bowed her head. "I don't think I'm ready to talk. Even after five years. I'm broken, Rose. Tonight proves it. I let Colt down. He's so wonderful, such a good man. I love him and I let him down."

"Oh, honey. The only thing tonight proves is that the mental health canyon you fell into is deeper than any of us realized. It's going to take longer than we'd like for you to climb your way out of it, but I know you, Sage Anderson. You're not a quitter. If Colt loves you as much as he claims, then he'll find some patience."

Sage swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. "I let him down tonight."

"He asked too much of you tonight."

"He doesn't know that. I've told him some of what happened, but not the worst of it."

"Could you tell me?"

She closed her eyes, swallowed the lump in her throat, and shook her head. "I can't. I've tried to talk about it. I did one time, I told one person, and it was horrible. It only made things worse."

"You told a therapist?"

"No." Sage met her sister's gaze with a pleading stare. "I told Dad."

Rose sat back, and Sage could see her mental wheels turning. Long seconds ticked by before she asked, "Can you tell me about that?"

"He lashed out at me, Rose. He said some things that haunt me to this day." With this, tears began to flow freely again. "He told me to quit crying about it and to put it behind me and soldier on. He told me not to be a coward. That was our final conversation. He was ashamed of me, Rose. He was my hero and I let him down and now I've let Colt down. I hate myself!"

Rose sat back. "So, that's why you didn't come to the hospital when I asked."

"He wouldn't have wanted me there."

Rose dropped her head into her hands and groaned. "Oh, Goobs. Now it makes sense. I could never understand, but now it's clear as the water in Angel Creek."

"I'm sorry I let you down, too, Rose."

Rose reached for her sister and gave her a fierce hug. "Right back at you. I wasn't there when you needed me, and that kills me. But listen. I'm here now, and I want to say a couple of things. And you need to hear them. First, about Dad. This thing you can't talk about. You were traumatized in some manner, weren't you?"

Sage nodded, and Rose continued. "Do you remember that time I cut my finger while peeling potatoes with a kitchen knife?"

"You had to get eight st.i.tches."

"Yep. Do you remember what Dad did?"

Sage thought about it. "Yeah, I do. He took you to the ER."

"That's right. Because he couldn't st.i.tch me himself."

"He was too busy yelling at you."

"Oh, yes. My ears hurt as much as my hand. I don't know if you'll remember this, but he did try to treat me at home. He couldn't hold his hands still. Do you know why?"

"Because you were careless?"

"No, because he was afraid. The big, bad Colonel was scared, and when he got scared, he attacked. That's what he did. Later he apologized to me and asked my forgiveness. He said he was frightened for me, and that's how he reacted when he was afraid."

"That's stupid."

"That's a man for you. Sage, I'll bet my favorite pair of flats that whatever you told Dad-if it was as awful for you as I think it must have been-scared him. Rather than giving you the comfort you needed, he reacted to his fear for his little girl."

"No, he wouldn't ..." Sage's voice trailed off. Hope flickered to life inside her and she added, "Do you really think he ...?"

"Yeah, I really do."

The sisters sat without speaking for a bit. Sage mulled over all that Rose had said. She'd love to believe it was true, that her father hadn't died thinking her a coward. It would lift such a burden from her soul and be her own personal miracle.

She looked at Rose. Her sister would have made it happen. "Why did you come here tonight?"

She shrugged. "Celeste asked me to bring Snowdrop to you."

"I'm glad you did." Sage licked her lips. "Rose, can you tell me about your diagnosis? I've been so worried about you."

With that, Rose's tears overflowed. Then, physician to physician, sister to sister, and woman to woman, Rose explained first the clinical aspects of her cancer and treatment, then the personal ones.

"Oh, Sage," she said, her voice cracking. "They had to take my uterus. I'll never have the babies I wanted. I let Brandon convince me to put the marriage off, and at the first sign of sickness, he bailed on me. Now he's married to someone else and has a baby on the way."

"He's sc.u.m. A selfish, scurrilous cad."

Rose snorted a laugh. "You still read historical romances, I see."

"Not to say I told you so, but I told you so. I really couldn't stand him." Now Sage was the one who reached for her sister and held her tight. "I'm so sorry. Cancer is such an evil disease. It's not fair. You should have had your babies. I know how badly you wanted them."

Pulling back, she added, "Maybe someday you'll hear something from the registry."

Rose shut her eyes, visibly flinching at Sage's oblique reference to the child she'd given up for adoption. "I'm afraid I've lost my faith in miracles."

"That's okay." Sage drew a deep breath and reflected on the momentous, stupendous changes she'd experienced within the past hour. Then her thoughts turned to Colt and dreams that might not be dead after all. "I have enough faith in them for us both."

Colt entered Children's Medical Center in Dallas on a run. He'd been in constant contact with his brother during the drive, and Jason had told him exactly where to go. Rachel was in surgery, still.

When the bus rolled over, she'd gone flying and landed on her head. She'd told a first responder that she'd heard her neck go pop. When she went to get up, her arms wouldn't move. X-rays revealed broken bones in her neck pressed against the spinal cord. The ligaments, joints, and a disc were injured. One of four main arteries that feeds the brain was kinked.

"They took great care with her neck while transporting her, thank G.o.d," Jason had told Colt while he waited to board his flight at the airport in Amarillo. "Her pediatric neurosurgeon says that had she moved any more, she would have compressed the spinal cord to the point that she would have functional loss."

"And that means ...?"

"She would have been paralyzed from the neck down."

Those words had haunted Colt the rest of the trip. The last time he'd seen his niece she'd been playing tag with the neighborhood kids.

At the doorway to the waiting room, he hesitated. His sister-in-law, Ann, sat in a chair, her arms wrapped around herself, rocking, staring unseeing into s.p.a.ce. Jason stood staring out a window, his hands shoved into his pockets. He'd aged ten years since Colt had seen him last.

Colt sucked in a bracing breath, then stepped into the waiting room. "Ann? Jason?"

Ann flew from her seat and into his arms. She mumbled mostly unintelligible words against his chest, though he did make out "Glad you're here."

He met his brother's tortured gaze, and asked, "What's the latest?"

"Nothing new since we hung up. Thanks for coming, Colt."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else."

The waiting was misery. The doctors had warned Rachel's parents to expect a lengthy surgery, but the wait seemed like days. Especially when her loved ones knew that the operation carried significant risks. Moving even a few millimeters during surgery could injure her spinal cord or cause the kinked artery to push a clot into her brain, resulting in a stroke. Yet surgery had been her only option.

Every so often, a nurse arrived with updates. Each time the Raffertys spotted her face through the window in the door to the surgical suite, they held their collective breath. After the third such event, Colt realized that seeing the nurse was a good sign. If something bad happened, it would be the doctor who came out to meet them.

When the surgery pa.s.sed the six-hour mark, Ann let out a frustrated wail: "Why is it taking so long?" Then she burst into tears.

Her husband sat beside her, took her into his arms, and spoke quietly, rea.s.suring her, drawing strength from her and offering her his. They leaned on each other, supported each other during this, the most challenging moment of their lives. Watching the couple, Colt was reminded that this was what he wanted in a relationship. Shared burdens were eased burdens. Why couldn't Sage see that?

Seven hours after the surgery began, Rachel's doctor walked into the waiting room, a big smile on his face. Seeing it, a knot of tension released inside Colt.

"She did great," the surgeon said. "We're not out of the woods yet, but I have to say I'm much more optimistic than I was the first time I saw her X-rays."

He summarized the procedure in detail, then ended by saying, "So she has a t.i.tanium plate, ten screws, and two rods in the back of her neck to hold it in place. We won't know how badly the spinal cord has been damaged for a while yet. The next seventy-two hours will be key."

"What about the stroke risk?" Jason Rafferty asked.

The doctor hesitated. "I'll feel better about everything after those seventy-two hours."

"Can we see her?" Ann asked.

The doctor nodded. "One at a time and only for a few minutes."

After Rachel's parents spent their allotted time with her, Colt paid a brief visit, then almost wished he hadn't. Seeing her lying in bed, pale and immobilized, all but broke his heart. He could only imagine how Jason and Ann felt.

He'd spent his fair share of time in hospitals as part of his job, and the visits had all been tough. This was different. Having the patient in the bed be one of your own took the horror to a whole other level. He wanted this child to recover, to walk again, to continue those piano lessons she'd begun at the beginning of summer. Most of all, he wanted her to live.

Blinking back the wetness that pooled in his eyes, he gently placed his hand atop hers. "You be a fighter, Rach. We are all counting on that. I love you, sweet pea."

The nurse shooed him out of the recovery room, and he found his brother and sister-in-law in each other's arms once again. This time, Jason was the one who'd broken down and Ann the one offering comfort. Again, thoughts of Sage whispered across his mind. He wished she were here.

Had he expected too much of her? Was Celeste right? Maybe so, but that didn't negate the fact that he needed her with him. He could use a shoulder to lean on right now. Hospitals were lousy places to visit alone. Shoot, he didn't even have his dog to support him-Shadow was now boarded at a vet clinic that Nic had arranged for him not far from the hospital.

What's with the pity party, Rafferty? Stop it. Just stop it. Rachel didn't stroke out, and she might have dodged the paralysis bullet. You should be on your knees thanking the good Lord.

He gave his head a shake. He was getting loopy. Standing, he dragged a hand down his face and spoke to his brother. "I'm going to hunt up some caffeine. Can I bring you guys anything?"

Jason looked at his wife, who shook her head. "Maybe a soda?" he asked.

"Sure."

As Colt roamed the hospital halls, his thoughts drifted back to his old job. How many hospitals had he visited over the years? Dozens, certainly. He'd done hundreds of interviews. But very few of children. Never in a children's hospital. He couldn't imagine working around seriously ill children all day, every day. It would wear down a man's soul.

Or a woman's. Ah, Sage.

The stained-gla.s.s windows of the hospital chapel caught his attention, and something compelled him to open the door and step inside. He was surprised to see Rachel's surgeon sitting on a pew in the middle of the chapel, his head bowed.

Colt sat in a pew across the aisle from the physician. A moment later, the man finished his prayer and looked at Colt who hesitantly asked, "Everything okay, Doc? Something you're not telling us?"

The doctor gave a tired, crooked grin. "I'm a religious man. I saw something today that reaffirms those beliefs."

"What's that?"

"This is no promise, Mr. Rafferty, and time may very well prove me wrong. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, patients with the sort of injury Rachel suffered are paralyzed. In this case, I am convinced that G.o.d wrapped his hands around her spinal cord while those bones went flying everywhere. I think she'll walk again. I may be wrong. Like I said, this is no promise, but I feel very positive about her chances."

"Thanks, Doc. I'm beginning to feel that same way, too. She has lots of people praying for her." An image of Celeste surrounded by her collection of angel figurines in a room at Angel's Rest flashed through his mind, and he silently repeated the words he'd spoken before leaving Eternity Springs: From your mouth to G.o.d's ear. "I think our prayers are being heard."

Forty-eight hours later, with her mother, father, grandparents, and uncle Colt at her bedside, Rachel Rafferty wiggled her toes. Overcome by emotion, Colt turned away to collect himself and gazed out of the room's window which overlooked the hospital's front entrance.

Sage stood facing the front doors. He blinked, looked again, and decided that yes, she was there. He wasn't seeing things. She wore a yellow sundress, and she had that waterfall of auburn hair piled atop her head. She held her sungla.s.ses by the earpiece and twirled them in a slow circle as she stared at the hospital entrance.

"I'll be right back," he said to his family, although no one noticed, their complete focus on the miracle child in the bed.

He had to wait an agonizingly long time for the elevator, and when he finally reached the ground floor, he dashed for the front door, burst outside, and gazed about frantically.

Sage wasn't there.

He hurried back into the hospital and stopped at the visitors' desk. "Did a woman just ask for a room number for my niece, Rachel Rafferty? A beautiful, red-haired woman? She's wearing a yellow dress. It would have been in the past few minutes."

"No, sir," a pleasant older lady responded with a smile. "No one has entered the hospital in the past few minutes. My shift is over and my husband is on his way to pick me up. I've been watching the doors."

"Thanks." Colt hurried back outside. He studied the entrance area, walked the parking lot, even tried calling her cellphone, but the call went straight to voice mail. Sage was gone.

"But she tried," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips. "She tried."