C
hristmas Eve Matthias stopped at the hospital following his grandson’s bone-marrow procedure. Gloria had spent the day with Tanner and called to tell Matthias that the transplant had gone well. Tanner was in an aseptic room Matthias couldn’t enter. Only Tanner’s mother was allowed to visit, and even then the boy was kept behind a protective plastic barrier. Despite that, Matthias couldn’t think of anyplace in the world he’d rather celebrate Christmas.
Because of the unknown bone-marrow donor, they actually had something to celebrate. The change in Gloria since the donor had been located was dramatic. The edge of fear was gone from her voice, and color had returned to her cheeks.
“Dad!” Gloria waved to attract his attention when he walked into the hospital lobby.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” He kissed her cheek.
“Dad, Tanner’s donor is still here. Everything went as expected, but when he stood up to leave, he blacked out and fell against the hospital bed. He’s got quite a gash on his head.”
The donor had asked to remain anonymous and had given up today—Christmas Eve—for Tanner’s sake. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Said he felt foolish for causing all this fuss. He’s in the emergency room, waiting for his wife to pick him up now.”
“I’d like to thank him personally,” Matthias said. “Do you think he’d mind?” This stranger, who’d responded to a newspaper article, had given his grandson a second chance at life. The only reward he’d received for his effort had been a cut on the head—and the grateful appreciation of Tanner’s family. The least Matthias could do was sit with him until his wife got there.
“Well, I’ll go and talk to him.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go up to Tanner again.”
“Good idea,” Matthias said. He followed the sign that pointed to the emergency room; it led him to a large waiting area. Groups of people were scattered about. A lone man sat in a shadowy corner, his forehead bandaged. That had to be him.
He walked over. “Hello, I’m Matthias Jamison, Tanner Westley’s grandfather, and I—” Matthias didn’t finish. He couldn’t finish. All he could do was gape at the man he’d hated for fifteen years.
“Matthias, is that you?”
“Greg?”
In shock, they stared at each other for the better part of a minute.
“You’re Tanner’s grandfather?” Greg finally asked.
Matthias nodded.
Apparently Greg hadn’t known of the connection between him and Tanner. The anger and hatred Matthias had lived with all these years flared back to life, racing through his blood like a shot of adrenaline. But to his surprise, it died a quick and sudden death.
Matthias claimed the chair across from Greg, astonished that he couldn’t think of a single word to say.
“That explains it,” Greg said, slowly shaking his head.
Matthias had no idea what he was talking about.
“Now I understand why I was a match for Tanner. It’s because you and I are second cousins.”
“You mean you really didn’t know? That Tanner’s my grandson?” Matthias had to ask.
Greg smiled wryly. “Not a clue. You’re telling me that was Gloria I talked to a few minutes ago? Your Gloria…and Mary’s?” As soon as he spoke, he seemed to regret bringing up Mary’s name. “She’s certainly changed from the little girl who used to race up and down the vineyard rows.”
“It’s been a long time.”
Greg nodded. He splayed his fingers through his hair and winced when he touched the bandaged gash. His hair was almost completely gray now, but it looked good on him. “She isn’t the only one who’s changed.”
“We’ve both changed,” Matthias murmured, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“About Mary,” Greg whispered. “I…I was wrong. I’ve thought of Mary, of you, so often…” He seemed unable to continue.
Emotion blocked Matthias’s throat. It’d been so long since he’d cried that when the tears filled his eyes, they burned and stung like acid. Embarrassed, he blinked hard and looked away. “She died fifteen years ago and I still miss her. Doesn’t seem right not having Mary.”
“Can you forgive me?” Greg’s voice was raw with pain.
“The Lord takes away, but He also gives. Mary’s gone, but because of you, young Tanner’s got a real chance at beating the same cancer that killed his grandmother.”
“Mr. Bennett.” Tanner’s doctor joined them. Judging by the way he was dressed, he was about to leave. Not that Matthias begrudged him that, seeing as it was Christmas Eve. Edward, like everyone else, wanted to be with his family. “I just heard about your accident and I came to tell you how sorry I am.”
Matthias, for one, was grateful for the distraction. It gave him a moment to compose himself.
“Not to worry,” Greg said, as if the stitches in his head were of little significance. “It’ll be healed in no time. Besides, I should’ve known better than to stand up without the nurse there.”
“I did warn you not to be in too much of a hurry.” The doctor smiled, then glanced at Matthias. “I see you two have met.”
“We’re old friends.”
“Cousins, actually,” Greg added, and because they needed an excuse to laugh they both did.
“I see…” the doctor said. “You have a ride coming for you?” he asked Greg next.
“Yes. My wife will be here any minute.”
“If there’s anything else I can do for you, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“I won’t,” Greg promised.
Dr. Thorpe nodded. “I probably won’t be seeing you again, Mr. Bennett, but I want you to know that I think you did a brave thing. A selfless thing. Thank you.” With that he held out his hand. Greg stood and clasped it firmly.
“Thank you,” he returned.
Greg slumped back into his chair, eyes on the retreating physician. “He’s a fine young man, isn’t he?”
Matthias heard a catch in his voice. “One of the best cancer specialists around.” Gloria had repeatedly told him of the wonderful caring physician who’d been so good to Tanner and to her.
Greg’s gaze lingered on Dr. Thorpe and his expression was oddly pained.
“You okay?” Matthias asked.
Greg’s nod was slow in coming. “I will be.”
Not understanding, Matthias frowned. “You want to tell me about it?”
“Perhaps someday,” Greg mumbled.
The tension was broken by the sound of carolers. “Joy to the World” drifted toward them, the music festive and lively, a dramatic contrast to their current mood.
“Is it close to Christmas?” Greg asked, seemingly unaware.
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Matthias told him.
Greg’s eyes widened with surprise. “I didn’t realize…”
The music made for a pleasant background as the two men continued to talk, mostly about Tanner and Gloria. Several minutes later Matthias brought up the subject of the vineyard. “I read about the fan leaf problems in your area.”
“It wiped me out,” Greg said.
That accounted for his cousin’s haggardness and his beleaguered look, Matthias thought.
“A lifetime of work destroyed in a single season,” Greg murmured.
“You’re replanting of course.”
Greg shook his head. “Takes capital, more capital than I can muster.”
“Get a loan. That’s what banks are for.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Greg’s voice rose. “I’m not a poor risk, at least not on paper, but money’s tight. Tighter than I realized. Despite everything, I haven’t been able to convince a single bank to give me a loan.”
“I’ve been working with Columbia Wines up in Washington. The vines there are stronger, more resilient. Say the word and I can arrange for you to replant with those.”
Greg shook his head again. “Hell, I’m sixty. Too damn old to start over now. Lately I’ve been thinking of selling out completely and hiring on with one of the other wineries.”
That wasn’t the answer, as Matthias was well aware. “You never could tolerate working for others. You like being your own boss too much. Besides, you’re still young. I’m damn near seventy and I don’t think of myself as old.”
“Well, I can’t get the financing.”
“What about Phil? He works for a bank, doesn’t he? He should be able to help you.”
Greg shook his head. “He has as much reason to hate me as you do.”
The carolers drew closer, drowning out any chance of further conversation. Matthias could only imagine what had caused such a rift between the two brothers.
Memory told him that Phil had always resented Greg’s good looks, his social skills and sense of purpose. Whatever happened had been building for years. Matthias didn’t doubt that Greg had played a role—but Phil had already been holding a grudge. Looking for a reason to justify his resentment.
Then, without warning, Greg rose slowly to his feet, almost as if he was being drawn upward against his will.
Matthias looked up and then he knew.
Phil saw his brother and Matthias at the same time as Greg saw him. His first reaction was shock, followed by unexpected compassion. Greg—head bandaged, features pale and drawn—stood beside Matthias Jamison, of all people.
Hardly conscious of what he was doing, Phil stopped singing. Sandy did, too. Slowly, involuntarily, he separated himself from the band of carolers. Almost before he realized his intent, he stood silently before his brother. They stared at each other, eye to eye.
Neither man spoke. For his part Phil couldn’t find the words. This was what he’d wanted, what he’d dreamed about—seeing his brother, his sophisticated suave rich brother, broken and humbled. Greg was certainly humbled, but to his own amazement, Phil experienced no glee at the sight.
He was incapable of speaking. His mind had emptied, but his heart had grown suddenly full. His eyes filled with tears, and he struggled to hold everything inside.
Then, wordlessly, compulsively, the two brothers strained toward each other and hugged.
“What happened?” Phil asked when they broke apart. He was looking at his brother’s bandage.
As if he’d forgotten, Greg touched his head. “Nothing much. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Matthias,” Phil said, glancing toward his cousin, “I didn’t know you still lived in California.”
“I don’t. I came to see my family—and to thank Greg. He was the bone-marrow donor for my grandson.”
Greg had voluntarily given his bone marrow? Phil remembered his brother’s aversion to needles—the way he’d always fainted in the doctor’s office whenever he had to get a shot.
“I…” Clearly Greg was flustered. “I was a match for the boy. Matthias is our dad’s cousin, remember?”
Phil nodded.
“How are you?” Matthias asked.
“Good,” Phil told him, and the two exchanged hearty handshakes.
“You still work for Pacific Union, don’t you?” Matthias asked him.
“Yes.” Phil already knew what his cousin was about to ask.
“Can’t you help Greg get the financing he needs to replant?”
“How are you going to answer him?” Sandy whispered, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. Phil was sure the two men hadn’t heard. He was reminded of other voices he’d heard that apparently no one else had.
You hide behind a cloak of decency…The good brother…
“I’ll see to it that you get your loan,” Phil said, looking directly at Greg. “Drop in after the holidays to sign the paperwork, and I’ll arrange for the transfer of funds.”
Greg just stared at him. “Phil,” he began hesitantly, “you’d do that for me after…” Words failed him.
“It seems we both had a lot of growing up to do.”
“Thank you,” Greg said, his voice choked and low.
“Greg!” cried a female voice from across the room.
Phil turned and saw a stunningly beautiful woman at least twenty years his brother’s junior come racing across the emergency-room waiting area. “Oh, darling, just look at you.”
Greg smiled as the woman ran one hand down the side of his face and inspected the damage to his head. “How did this happen? Omigosh, you can’t imagine what I thought when the nurse phoned.”
Not answering, Greg placed his arm around the woman and turned to Matthias, Phil and Sandy. “This is Tess, my wife,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Hello, Tess,” Sandy said, and in that warm welcoming way of hers, extended an invitation to Christmas dinner. Matthias and Gloria were included, too; Gloria would be with Tanner for part of the day, but Matthias thought she could join them for a few hours.
“Can we, darling?” Tess opened her eyes wide. “You know how much I hate to cook. Besides, it’s time I met your family, don’t you think?”
Greg nodded, still smiling.
The women started talking, and soon it was impossible to get a word in, but Phil didn’t mind. And from the looks of it, neither did Greg or Matthias.
“Isn’t that the most incredible sight you’ve ever seen?” Goodness said from her perch atop the hospital light fixture. Shirley and Mercy sat with her, nudging each other as they jostled for space.
Seeing Greg with his brother, his cousin and his wife was heady stuff, indeed. Shirley couldn’t have wished for more. Despite their antics, everything had worked out beautifully, and this hadn’t been an easy case. Gabriel had made sure of that.
“I see you three are mighty pleased with yourselves,” the archangel said as he appeared beside them.
“We did it,” Mercy told him with more than a hint of pride.
“And all without involving the FBI or the National Guard,” Goodness was pleased to report.
“There was that one minor incident with a hot-air balloon, though,” Gabriel reminded her. “The Federal Aviation Administration is still looking into it.”
Shirley noticed that her friends had suddenly gone quiet. “All in all, it’s been a challenge.” They’d brought the case to a successful conclusion, but Shirley was convinced it had taken more than a little heavenly intervention. “What’s going to happen to Greg?” she asked, curious to learn what the future held for the man she’d once thought of as despicable. In time she’d actually come to like him and wish him well. He wasn’t as bad as he’d seemed at first glance, and she wondered if this was the real lesson Gabriel had been hoping to teach them.
“Well, as you can see he’s mending fences with Tess,” Gabriel said. Greg had his arm around his wife as they stood and talked to Matthias, Phil and Sandy.