"No. The doctor came in around noon and said that even if by some miracle Maddie does get well, it'll be a while before she could go home. I called Joyce and told her she could go back to visit her son now that his kids are over the chicken pox. There's nothing for her to do here for a while."

Another visitors' elevator opened with room for the two of them, and they rode in silence down to the second floor. Over a bowl of soup and a fruit cup with a roll, Carrie asked Peter what he was doing at the hospital.

"One of the little kids in Sunday School broke his leg falling of the bleachers at a T-ball game this morning."

"I hope it's not bad."

"He's definitely not a happy camper. I sat with his parents while they operated to put the bone back together. He'll be in a good deal of pain for a while."

"Poor kid. I'd go ballistic if my child broke his leg. Seeing someone you love in pain is in someways harder than having the pain to bear yourself. If it was my child..." She shook her head and tamped down the longing that surfaced thinking about her child. She pushed back her half-eaten soup with a sigh and leaned back in her chair.

"Oh, no you don't," Peter said with a sudden rush of authority in his voice. He pushed the bowl of soup right back where it had been. "You eat that, Carolyn Whitmore. You're not going to be any good to Maddie if you faint from lack of sustenance."

"You're right, of course," she said reluctantly, adding, "Bully," with a half-smile. "I can't even complain that it tastes bad because it's sort of good. I guess hospital food has come a long way since the last time I tried to eat in one after my folks' accident."

"I wish I'd been here then to keep you company."

"It would have been wonderful. I was all alone. Poor Mary Ellen was eight months pregnant and her doctor wouldn't let her travel."

Peter quietly reached across the narrow table to place his hand over hers. "You're not alone now, Carolyn. I'll stay here with you for the evening, if you'd like."

Carrie smiled. "Peter, you've been here all day already."

"Tell you what. I should go back to the office to check up on what I missed this afternoon, but I'll come back to see how Maddie is when I'm done there."

"Thank you, Peter."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for."

That's what I'm here for. That's what I'm here for. All evening long as she sat beside Maddie's bed, Peter's words echoed in her ears.

How could she have forgotten? Comforting her, leading her to trust him, offering to help, visiting and talking for hours with her in Fargo, even caring about her--that was what a minister was here for. He was ministering to her, a member of his flock. She'd gotten so caught up in worrying about falling in love him that she'd forgotten why he was sharing his strength with her, and she had almost forgotten why she should not let him.

Carrie leaned her head on the mattress and held Maddie's fingers against her cheek. "Oh, Grandma. What will I do? I don't want to, but I love him so much."

Exhausted from the long day of emotional stress on top of the early morning drive to Sunville, Carrie dozed lightly, her head resting on the bed.

When Peter softly touched her shoulder to rouse her an hour later, she looked up, wondering at first where she was. Seeing Maddie, feeling Peter's warm hands gently ma.s.saging her shoulders, she remembered. She leaned her head to one side to rub her cheek against the back of his hand.

Carrie stood to look more closely at Maddie. No change. She turned to Peter. He wore the same black slacks and a light-weight black shirt with the white clerical collar that he'd had on that afternoon. Seeing him standing there, looking at her expectantly, she knew for certain that she loved him with all her heart--the heart that was already breaking because their time together, even as friends, was measured.

"Okay now, Ms. Whitmore," the nurse said as she bustled in. "I told the good Reverend that he could come in here if he promised to take you home."

Carrie started to object and the nurse raised her hand.

"No, you don't. I just talked to Doctor Bolton and he said to tell you to go home. He'll be stopping by to see your grandmother again tonight before he leaves the hospital. He prescribed food and bedrest, but the prescription was for you."

The nurse turned to Peter and poked his chest with her well-intentioned index finger that had been pointing at Carrie. "And you promised me you'd see that she gets it. See that you do."

"Yes, Ma'am. You heard her, Carolyn. You're not going to make a liar out of a man of the cloth, are you?"

Despite how tired she was, Carrie wanted to stay. However, she didn't think the nurse would let her, even if she decided to.

"And before you ask," the nurse went on. "Yes, if there's any change, we'll call you. Otherwise, you're to get a good night's sleep."

"Yes, Ma'am," Carrie echoed. Resigned to leaving, she slid the chair she'd used over against the wall.

"Boy, I wish my kids would mind me the first time I tell them to do something," the nurse mumbled as she left the room.

Carrie took a few more minutes to say goodbye to Maddie. As she kissed her grandmother's sunken and grayed cheek, she wondered if it was for the last time. "I love you, Grandma," she whispered before she straightened and turned away.

With Peter's supportive hand at her elbow, they left the hospital. "You're sure you can drive, Carolyn? Otherwise, I'll drive you home and come back for my car later."

"No, really, I'm fine."

"Okay then. I'll be right behind you."

He was, all the way home. He carried her bag, and with his arm around her, he ushered to the front door. She unlocked the door and just inside, he folded her into his arms and held her head against his shoulder. Darkened and rough with the day's growth of beard, she could feel his sandpapery chin scratching her temple. She looked up and ran her fingers over his jaw. She'd never realized before how sensitive her finger tips were. Her hand stilled on his neck beneath his ear.

"What do you think? Could I kiss you good night or would the whisker burn be too bad?"

"I think it's probably safe," she answered softly.

With the utmost tenderness, Peter kissed her. Carrie savored the kiss, wanting never to forget it.

"Thank you, Peter. Whatever happens to me, I'll treasure our times together always. You've been very

supportive and I really appreciate it." "I wish I could do more to spare you the pain. But for now, why don't you see if you could eat something more and then go right to sleep. The morning will come soon enough when you can go back to the hospital." Carrie nodded. "You look less than convinced, but worrying won't do Maddie a bit of good." "You're right, of course." He stepped back and dropped his arms. "Good night. See you in the morning," he promised quietly before he left. Carrie watched his tail lights disappear around the corner before she closed and locked the door. In minutes, she'd eaten a sandwich and gotten ready for bed. Despite how worried she was, she was exhausted enough to fall asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. She slept soundly until the phone rang. A glance at the beside clock told her it was five am. "No," she cried, climbing out of bed. She ran to answer the extension in the master bedroom. She knew it was the doctor before he spoke.

"I'm sorry," Bill Bolton said as soon as he'd identified himself. "She's gone, Carrie."

Carrie grabbed the bedpost to steady herself as the strength left her legs.

"Maddie died peacefully about an hour ago without ever regaining consciousness so she was never in

any pain."

"At least that's a blessing. Can I..."

"Right now, you just go back to bed. There's nothing to be done, but I wanted to call you before you

left to come over to the hospital. Maddie has had everything planned for years. I'm following her instructions." He told Carrie the funeral home that would be in charge of the arrangements.

"I'll call them during regular hours to see what has to be done. Thank you, doctor."

Her head down, her shoulders slumped and her arms hanging at her sides, Carrie shuffled down the hall and went back to bed after the call, but she couldn't sleep. She went over all that she'd done for her grandmother and wondered if there had been something more that she could have done--should have done. If she'd stayed to care for Maddie herself, would she still be alive?

Carrie didn't see how that could be so, but weighed down with the guilt the idea brought, she thought about it constantly until seven when she dragged herself out of bed again. This time she showered and dressed, and called her sister, Mary Ellen.

"I wish there was a way I could help," Mary Ellen said after blowing her nose. "Are you doing okay, Carrie?"

"I'm fine," Carrie mumbled, knowing it wasn't true, but not wanting to worry Mary Ellen. "There's nothing really that you could do now that she's gone. I'll call the funeral home next and then I'll call you again about the funeral arrangements."

"What about all her stuff?" Mary Ellen asked hesitantly. "What in the world are you going to do with that huge house and everything in it?"

Carrie sighed. To Mary Ellen, Maddie's possessions had always been old "stuff", Carrie thought, while to her they were family treasures.

"I don't know, Mary Ellen. The doctor said she'd mapped out exactly what she wanted to happen when she died, so I have a feeling she's planned what to do with the house, too."

Someone was knocking on the front screen door. Carrie wondered who it could be at this early hour.

"Well, call me if you need me," Mary Ellen offered. "Otherwise, we'll come for the funeral and maybe another day, but then we'll have to come right back. With all the layoffs, Frank won't dare be gone from work for very long."

"I understand." In fact Carrie understood only two well with her own job threatened now by taking off too much time.

She heard something like the squeak of the screen door opening and after a few moments, the inside front door opened. But how? She was sure she'd locked it the night before after Peter left.

"I've got to go, Mary Ellen. I hear someone at the front door. I'll call you after I talk to the funeral home." Carrie walked with the phone toward the door of the master bedroom until the cord pulled tight and stopped her. She couldn't see the stairs from where she stood.

"You've got my work number?" Mary Ellen asked.

The sounds downstairs at the front door and the footfalls on the oak floor of the front hall suddenly turned her body to ice with fear. Her heart pounded in her ears. She clutched the phone with both hands, wondering if she would have to use it as a weapon. Someone had broken into the house.

"Mary Ellen," she whispered with her hand cupped around the mouthpiece. "There's someone in the house downstairs!"

"Carolyn?" a male voice called from the foyer. "Carolyn, it's Peter. The hospital just called me."

Carrie's body slumped with relief as she exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "Mary Ellen," she repeated in her normal volume. "It's okay. The minister from Grandma's church is here. He just got the news that Grandma... that she pa.s.sed away. I've got to go. And yes, I have your work number." She walked back to the bedroom to put the phone base back on the bedside table.

"Carrie, I hate to leave you to handle it alone like I had to when Mom and Dad died," Mary Ellen admitted.

"I know. I know. It's okay. It can't be helped. You come when ever you can."

Carrie heard Peter take the stairs two at a time. "I'll call you tonight, Mary Ellen. Give the girls a hug for me. Bye."

Peter appeared at the bedroom door. When she'd hung up the phone, he raised his arms to her. She stepped into them and he held her tight in his arms, rocking back and forth.

For several minutes Carrie drew on the comfort and safe haven that his arms offered her. Slowly, their arms began to relax. He lifted his head to speak and his smooth cheek brushed against her temple. He'd shaved this morning, she thought. The hint of spice she smelled had to be his shaving lotion.

"My guess is that she's teaching the angels to crochet already. Maddie wasn't one to beat around the bush." He pulled out his clean handkerchief and wiped her cheeks. "How about a cup of coffee? Have you eaten something yet this morning?"

She shook her head. "Coffee sounds good. I haven't even been downstairs yet."

"You up for scrambled eggs?"

"Not really, but I suppose you're going to make me eat them anyway, aren't you?"

"Now you've got the idea." He put his arm around her shoulders and ushered her to the kitchen.

Chapter Fourteen.

"Where are the kids? Where's Frank?" Carrie asked when Mary Ellen arrived in Sunville late the next evening--alone, after a bus ride from the Fargo airport.

"Oh, Carrie, I'm so sorry, but he couldn't get away from work. His boss didn't consider his wife's grandmother to be immediate family and that's the only people who rate a funeral leave of absence. I didn't have the heart to tell you I'd be alone when I called to say when I'd arrive."

Carrie hugged her sister and loaded her suitcase into the car for the short trip from the bus stop to the house. "I understand, but I'll miss seeing my nieces."

Mary Ellen nodded. "I left them home so they don't have to miss school. They're going to spend the afternoons with a friend until their father picks them up after work."

"We'll have to make doubly sure that we get together this Christmas," Carrie urged.

She pulled the car near the back door and the sisters went into the kitchen. While Mary Ellen took her case upstairs and changed, Carrie made a pot of tea. She couldn't help but wonder what she would be doing this winter when Christmas rolled around. To think that she might be working somewhere at a new job because the one she had left in Fargo had disappeared, was depressing. She pushed thoughts of her job away.

"Joyce came back this morning to get her things," Carrie said as Mary Ellen joined her at the kitchen table. "She stayed to dust and pick up the whole house. She even did all Maddie's laundry so I wouldn't have to. She stripped the hospital bed, too. The company retrieved it this afternoon and they were nice enough to move the dresser and the table back where they belonged. I thought we'd need the dining room put together again."

Mary Ellen looked across the kitchen into the dining room. "The house looks ready for visitors after the funeral."

"Joyce is a gem. I gave her a bonus to cover the extra things she did."

"Good." Mary Ellen sighed. "So, Carrie, tell me what we have to do."

The next two days were the kind one can never truly prepare for, only experience, Carrie decided. She'd experienced so much pain that she felt numb inside. For her though, it was worse because everything that happened reminded her of Ralph's funeral.

The visitation at the funeral home and the funeral for Maddie in the church went well, but the grave-side service that followed was marred with a light rain. At least that was better than the bitter cold and snow at Ralph's.

When she looked at the faces of the people around her, she was thankful that she saw only caring concern for her and the hollow look of the loss that they too had suffered. There was none of the sideways glances at Carrie as there had been at Ralph's grave.

Back then, each time Ralph's mother looked at Carrie, she'd burst out in tears all over again. "How could you do that to him?" his mother had cried. "How could you let my Ralph down so much he'd want to kill himself?"

There was nothing Carrie could say that would satisfy them. She had slipped away after the graveside service and didn't go to his parents' home afterwards. She had spent a couple more days with Maddie until she had her emotions more under control and then went back to her cla.s.ses at SU. She had thrown herself into her studies and tried to forget that she was a murderer.

"It would have to rain," Mary Ellen muttered, bringing Carrie back to the present.