Her Sister's Child

A middle-aged man with thick salt-and-pepper hair looked up from a display shelf where he was stocking prepackaged goodies labeled with the Sunny Vale trademark, a bright sun rising over a meadow. “Hey, Julia,” he called. “Good to see you.”

“Same here, Oscar.” She walked over, gave him a quick hug and stepped back so he could see Katie. “I’d like you to meet my niece.”

The man smiled at Katie. “I heard there was another golden-haired Sommerville lady here,” he said, his old-country accent as charming as always. Oscar Sobriato was proud of his Italian heritage. He rubbed his thumb over his chin and gave serious consideration to the items he’d arranged so far. “I wonder what this little one would like, hmm? Do you suppose she wants a MoonPie?”

Julia laughed. Oscar had been on this route for only five years, but legends were passed down forever on Whisper Mountain. “I know her to be a cookie fanatic,” she said.

“Pick out what you like,” Oscar said, waving Katie closer to the goodies. While Katie studied her choices, Oscar took Julia’s arm and led her down the aisle. Placing his thick, soft hands on the sides of her face, he said, “I’m so sorry, Julia. I remember when you were here for your papa’s funeral. Such a short time ago, and now Cora can’t even bury her daughter in the family tradition.”

“Thanks, Oscar. Folks have stopped by all week. That has helped.”

He folded his arms. “How are they doing—your mama and the little one?”

“Okay, I guess. Katie is so quiet. That really worries me. And Mama…” She tried to give the impression that she wasn’t overly concerned about Cora. “Well, Mama is Mama. She’s sad but trying to cope.”

Oscar glanced over at the cash register. “She’s got a strong constitution, that one.”

Julia’s eyes widened. My mama?

Oscar thumped his chest. “And a heart as big as this mountain. She loves with it and grieves with it, and always takes care of those around her.”

Julia followed his gaze, tried to see her mother as Oscar did. She supposed she could agree with the heart part of his description, but the rest of it was up for debate. When she looked back at Oscar, she realized his attention hadn’t wavered from Cora.

“But she looks tired,” he said. “And too thin.” He patted his own round belly. “She needs to eat more. Pasta, some hearty Italian sausage. And a few napoleons wouldn’t hurt, either.” He shook a finger at Julia. “You see to it, okay?”

“Okay.” As she walked back to Katie, Julia watched her mother with the customers. She smiled as she always had, but the gesture was void of any real feeling. She engaged in small talk, but her voice sounded flat, toneless. All the Sommerville women had blond hair, but Cora’s lacked any sign of a healthy luster. Her blunt cut hung straight to her shoulders and was streaked with coarse gray strands that made her pale face appear washed-out, older than her fifty-eight years. An idea occurred to Julia. There had been an aisle at Pope’s Drugstore for Katie. And there was one for Cora, too.

Julia settled Katie at a booth with a coloring book and crayons. When the last customer paid his bill, she went to the register. “Has Cameron called, Mama?”

“No, not yet. But someone was here from the towing company. He said they were going to try to bring Cameron’s car up from the ravine later on today. But he figured it was a total loss.”

Julia sighed. “I thought it would be.” She looked at her watch. “It’s almost one o’clock. I think I’ll just drive over to the hospital and see if he’s ready to go.”

“Okay.”

Julia waved at Katie and smiled at Oscar, who was taking his sweet time stacking muffins and cupcakes on the shelves. Had he always given Cora’s General Store such special attention? Julia was suddenly quite certain that Oscar found more to like at Cora’s than just the invigorating ride up the mountain.

HAVING FOUND OUT Cameron’s location from the receptionist, Julia took the elevator to the second floor and headed toward his room. Her pulse increased with each step down the quiet hallway. Though she hadn’t fantasized about Cameron for years, just hearing his voice in the store last night had awakened familiar emotions. And imagining him at the bottom of the ravine had propelled her to risk her own well-being in an effort to save him.

She stopped outside Cameron’s door when she heard a voice with a clear take-charge attitude. “You simply can’t handle your immediate medical needs by yourself, Mr. Birch,” a woman said. “Those fixator insertion points must be cleaned and dressed daily until your doctor says otherwise.”

“That’s nonsense,” Cameron argued. “I’ve had a wrist operation, not open-heart surgery.”

“But it’s your right wrist, and you’re right-handed. You can’t manage your care with your left hand.” The woman sighed. “And need I remind you that you also have a concussion and two cracked ribs. Even simple movements in the next few days will cause you pain.”

Cameron groaned. “Isn’t there a form I can sign that allows me to accept responsibility for myself? I promise you, Miss Winston, I won’t hold the hospital liable for anything that happens to me once I walk out this door.” His declaration was followed by a whistled intake of breath. Julia’s own breath hitched in sympathy with his obvious stab of pain.

“Your doctor won’t release you until we’ve established home care, which, unfortunately is proving quite difficult considering your remote locale. None of our regular attendants will commit to traveling that mountain road. It’s known to be quite dangerous in iffy weather conditions.” She paused. “I guess I don’t have to remind you of that.”

Julia stepped into the room just as Cameron tossed his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “This stalemate is ridiculous,” he said. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone to make that drive every day just to…”

He turned his head, spotted Julia and pushed himself upright. Just as they had so many years ago, his greengold eyes seemed to penetrate her to the core. Breaking eye contact, she caught her first glimpse of Cam’s “antennae,” the system of fixators sticking out of his wrist, as well as the thick gauze and sling supporting a contraption that looked more like a throwback to medieval times than an example of modern medicine. When Cameron fell back against the mattress, Julia realized he wasn’t going to pull off any sort of macho display.

“Thank goodness, Julia,” he said. “Will you tell this well-meaning hospital administrator that you are taking me home, and that you will see that I am appropriately tucked in and medicated?”

Miss Winston seemed relieved. “Are you a health-care professional?” she asked Julia.

Cameron darted a quick warning glance at Julia and followed it with a blatant lie. “Of course she is…”

“No, I’m not,” Julia admitted before he could say anything more. “But I did agree to take Mr. Birch home today. I’m staying on Whisper Mountain myself for a while, so it’s no problem. I’m not concerned about making the drive.”

Cameron arched his brows. “There, you see? I’m all set. No worries.”

“I’m sorry, but you still need medical care. I’m waiting for one more home-care person to report back to me. If she doesn’t agree to make the trip daily, then you’ll have to come into the hospital every day or make arrangements for more accessible accommodations.”

Cameron shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

Miss Winston picked up a cell phone, which had been sitting on her clipboard. “Then we wait.”

He blew out a long, frustrated breath. “There has to be something we can do.”

Julia inched to the doorway. “I’ll come back later when all the details have been worked out.”

He nodded. “You might as well.”