a blizzard.”
Each word became harder to force past her lips. “C’mon, Hawk.” She choked on the nickname he’d gone by in the days when life had been fun and she’d been innocent.
“You have some worried people here, praying for you to wake up. I hear your father’s hardly left the hospital at all since the ambulance brought you in. Please don’t make him wait any longer.”
No response, only the incessant beeping of the monitor, its presence reminding her how close Jake was to dying.
A sob escaped her throat. “Damn it, Jake, wake up.” Willing herself to touch him again, Ali gently traced his mouth with her fingertip, hoping for a tactile response. “Do you remember the night we spent together?” She drew her finger slowly across his lower lip. “I’ve never forgotten how incredible it was between us.”
No response.
“Please, Jake. Open your eyes. Do it for your father,” she whispered. “And for me.” Her hands shook. “Do it for your daughter.”
No sooner had Ali stepped out of Jake’s room than she saw Clifton Hawkins. Surprisingly he looked much the same as she remembered. He was in his midfifties, and his hair was still coal black, though now streaked with gray. There were a few more lines around his eyes and mouth, and he was leaning on a cane.
He seemed shocked to see her at first, then he smiled. “Darcie? Darcie Pierce? Is that you?”
His innocent mistake let her know that she didn’t belong here. “Hello, Mr. Hawkins. I’m not Darcie. I’m Ali.”
“Of course. I’m sorry, Ali.”
“It’s all right.” She glanced back at the hospital room she’d just come from. “I hope you don’t mind…I heard about Jake and I came by to see…” There was a tremor in her voice. What must Jake’s father think? “I’m sorry. If there is anything I can do…”
Mr. Hawkins nodded. “Thank you, Ali. Since you’ve already seen him, you know he’s in bad shape.” The older Hawkins shook his head. “It’s funny. All these years, I’ve tried to get Jake to come home, and now…” His voice broke. “I had to have hip surgery to do it. Jake took a month leave from the army to come home and run the plant while I recuperate. Now, because of this senseless accident, he might not make it.” Jake’s father blinked and looked away.
“Sure, he will,” Ali assured him, forcing herself to believe her own words. “Jake’s strong and healthy. He’ll pull through this.”
Cliff Hawkins’s eyes found hers. “You think so?”
Ali nodded, wondering if she was crazy. Years ago she’d thought Jake invincible. Maybe she still believed it.
The older man took her hand in his. “Please come back, Ali. Jake and I need all the encouragement we can get.”
Ali knew that if she agreed, there was no turning back. Not for her. Not for Jake. And not for their daughter.
Darkness surrounded him. Jake tried to move and realized he was unable to, but he could still feel the teeth-clenching pain that tortured his body. A lead weight seemed to press on his rib cage, pinning him down. His leg throbbed. But at least the pain let him know he was alive. He was hurt. Bad.
How had it happened? How had he ended up here? Where was here?
Voices penetrated the pounding pain in his head, fading in and out as he fought to speak but couldn’t. When he heard his dad, Jake wanted to cry out, but his mouth refused to obey the command. He tried with all his strength to talk, but he lost. Finally he let the drugging oblivion take him.
Later the voices came again, tugging and pulling him to the surface. It was a woman’s voice this time. Her soft, caressing tone lulled him, just as her touch soothed his body. Who was she? Why did her voice, her hands seem so…familiar?
“Well, how did it go?” Margo asked as she joined Ali at the cafeteria table on her break.
Ali pushed back her hair. “Terrible.” She looked at her friend. “Tell me the truth, Margo. Is Jake going to survive?”
Margo sent her a concerned look. “I won’t lie to you, Ali. It could go either way. That’s why it’s so important for you to be here. I know it sounds crazy, but you may be a big help. We need to give him the will to fight.”
Margo was right; Ali did think she was crazy. Jake hadn’t been part of her life, except for their one night together. After that, she’d stopped believing in silly dreams and concentrated instead on raising her child…alone.
But if there was a chance she could help bring Jake out of the coma, she couldn’t walk away. A familiar pain gripped her as she thought about Darcie.
Although her sister telephoned almost every week, and despite the fact that Ali had gotten pregnant and had a baby, Darcie hadn’t returned home since she left Jake at the altar. She’d gone to New York to build a career. “Maybe we should call Darcie….”
Margo blinked, then reached for Ali’s hand. “I’m not a good person to ask about that. You know I’ve never cared much for your sister. She was self-centered and spoiled. I can’t believe you two are sisters let alone twins.”
It was equally hard for Ali to believe. Darcie had always been the glamorous one. Though they shared the same green eye color, Darcie’s eyes looked richer, larger. Her sister had always known how to do her hair and makeup so she looked as though she’d just stepped out of a photo session. Ali had been plain by comparison. And Darcie’s hair wasn’t just red, but a beautiful auburn—with the help of a rinse.
There was more of a difference now in their builds, too. Though both twins had always been slender, since Joanie, Ali’s hips and breasts were fuller. From pictures she sent, Darcie still appeared model thin.
“The only good thing Darcie ever did in her life was not marry Jake,” Margo said.
“But…he’s always loved her.”
“If that’s true, why did Jake call for you? Why did he ask for Ali-cat?”
Three days later, there was still no change in Jake’s condition, but he was able to breathe on his own, and was moved from ICU to a private room. At least now Cliff and Ali didn’t have to worry about keeping their visits down to only ten minutes. In fact, the doctors encouraged friends and family to spend time with Jake. They thought that having people around, talking to him, might help him.
Ali had been coming by on her lunch hour from her dispatcher job at the sheriff’s office. When she’d arrived this afternoon, she scooted her chair closer to Jake’s bed. She fussed with him, touching his arm, brushing his hair off his forehead.
“How do you like your new room?” she asked, glancing around at the peach-colored walls. There was a television high on the wall across from the bed. She glanced back at Jake. “Pretty classy place you got here. Of course, I remember you were a classy guy.”
No response.
She didn’t give up. “Jake, do you remember that time…on the Fourth of July, when a bunch of us kids took off for the lake to watch fireworks? Darcie and I were seniors that
