Gail Barrett

Where He Belongs


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Max clapped his shoulder. “Go on back. The nurse is there, but he’s been asking to see you.”

      With foreboding weighting his steps, Wade threaded his way through the crowd and headed down the hall to Norm’s bedroom. He tapped on the door and pushed it open. “Norm?”

      A woman he didn’t know turned toward him. “Excuse me, but Mr. Decker needs to—”

      “Wade,” Norm wheezed. “You came…”

      Wade’s heart stalled as the nurse moved away from the bed, and he forced himself to breathe. Good God. Was that Norm? Glazed eyes stared out from his bloodless face. Wrinkled skin sagged from his bones, as withered as the dry leaves clinging to the oak trees outside.

      Sick dread speared his gut. What happened? Norm had looked fine last spring when he’d stopped on his way to Montana.

      “You can only stay a minute,” the nurse warned. “He just took his medicine. If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

      “So what’s with the Mr. Decker bit?” Struggling to mask his shock, Wade pulled a straight-backed chair close to the bed and eased himself down. “You putting on airs now that you live in town? Hell, if I’d known you were getting formal, I’d have worn a suit.”

      “Heard the bike. Knew you’d come…”

      Damn right he’d come, instantly, stopping only for a few hours to sleep at the North Carolina border.

      “Where…?”

      “Florida. Found a great beach. You wouldn’t believe the babes down there.”

      “Not…California?”

      Still reeling, he fought to keep his tone light. “Nah. I went to San Diego as soon as the fire season ended, but the traffic got to me. It’s one big freeway from L.A. to the border now. So I headed to Florida instead. Thought maybe I’d fly to the Bahamas and hide out for a while.” And let his wrecked knee heal so he wouldn’t lose his smokejumping job. He stretched out his throbbing leg.

      “Hurt?”

      He grimaced. Cancer had ravaged Norm’s body, but not his mind. “Jolted my knee. Hit some down air on my last jump and landed hard. Nothing serious. I had to hike over the mountain after we got the fire out, though, so it could use a rest.”

      Norm closed his eyes. “Good place, Millstown. Stay…” He winced, then wheezed.

      Wade’s heart lunged. “What’s wrong? Should I call the nurse?”

      “No.” He opened his glassy eyes. “Damn morphine…”

      Wade glanced at the morphine pump hanging from the IV bag. The oxygen tank beside the bed. The wheelchair in the corner. Props to ease the descent into death. He tried to speak but failed. He swallowed hard.

      Norm’s mouth moved and he leaned closer to catch the words. “Stay…”

      “I’d planned on it.”

      “Promise. Need you to…”

      Norm wasn’t asking him to live in Millstown. He always knew Wade couldn’t stay. He just wanted him here when he died. Died. Oh, God.

      “You need me to what? Cook you Thanksgiving dinner? Hell, Norm. Next thing I know you’ll be wanting me to polish the silver.” Like when Rose was alive. Panic surged, then buzzed in his head.

      “Not here. Promise me, Wade…”

      He was going to lose Norm. Oh God, no. Not Norm, too.

      “Wade…”

      Sweat formed on his brow. He couldn’t take this. Norm dying. Staying in Millstown. But he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t let down Norm. “I’ll be here.” For as long as he needed him.

      “Not here,” Norm repeated.

      “What’s not here?”

      “Rent…room…”

      Rent a room? He frowned. What was he saying? “I’m not leaving you, Norm.” His heart jerked at the thought. “I’ll crash on the couch, same as I always do.”

      “No.” Norm’s voice was suddenly sharp. “Nurse is here. Max. Need you to stay…Mills Ferry…”

      Mills Ferry? The old mansion on the outskirts of town? Why would he stay there? And why would Norm want him to? Unless….

      His shoulders stiffened. “What am I, company now? Is that it? I’m not wel—”

      “No, Wade.” Norm’s hand snaked from beneath the sheet and grabbed his wrist. The slight weight trembled cold on his skin. “Son. Always my son… Need help. Please…” His voice faded.

      Dread knifed through Wade’s gut. “But—”

      “Promise me. Promise…” Norm’s hand slid from his wrist.

      His lungs squeezed shut. He’d do anything for this man, no matter how odd the request. “Fine, I’ll stay there.”

      “Good.” Norm slumped back and closed his eyes.

      “Norm? Norm?”

      “Sir?” The nurse spoke from behind him. “Mr. Decker needs to rest now.”

      He sucked in a shallow breath. Norm hadn’t died. He was just sleeping, thank God.

      But for how much longer?

      His legs unsteady, he stood. Norm had always seemed invincible to Wade, a big, burly man with thick arms and calloused hands. A quiet man who taught him to track and shoot deer. How to rebuild the truck he rolled when he took that curve too fast, and what to do when the girls started calling.

      A calm, patient man who’d lost his temper only once in all those years, when Wade had smarted off to Rose. Wade had never done it again.

      And now that strong man lay dying.

      “Sir?”

      A deep ache gutting his chest, he moved to the foot of the bed. His eyes burned as the nurse slipped the oxygen mask over Norm’s face and adjusted the pillows.

      And suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed space. Air. He strode from the room and straight through the crowded kitchen.

      “Wade. Hey, Wade!”

      He shoved open the door and stalked outside. Damned cancer! He jerked his helmet off his bike and dragged it over his head. How could it spread that fast? And why hadn’t Max called him sooner? He yanked on his leather gloves.

      “Wade, wait up.”

      He straddled the Harley, then scowled at Max, who’d followed him outside. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d had a relapse?” he demanded. “I’ve got money, for God’s sake. I could have taken him to Baltimore to a specialist instead of using that quack out here.”

      “He’s been seeing a specialist. At Johns Hopkins. He’s been going there for over a year.”

      His stomach plunged. “And you didn’t tell me?”

      “I wanted to. We all did, but Norm convinced us to wait.”

      “I see.” And suddenly he did. Clearly. The whole town had known Norm was dying and no one had bothered to tell him.

      “We thought, well, with everything else you’ve been through…” Max spread his hands. “We didn’t want you to worry.”

      “Right.” He snapped down the visor on his helmet, cranked the key in the Harley’s ignition and revved the engine. Like hell they didn’t want him to worry. They didn’t tell him because he wasn’t family. Because he didn’t belong here. Never had, never would.

      Because in Millstown, nothing changed. He rammed the bike into gear and shot off.

      The