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contact over the past few days. She leaned against Danny, and after he recovered from his surprise at her easy acquiescence to his comfort he spoke again, softly, quietly, his words a knell in D.J.'s mind. "He's had heart trouble for a long time now, D.J. Bad trouble." |
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"No. He didn't want you to know. I told him to tell you, but he said he'd given you enough grief and he didn't want to give you any more. Since I had to agree with him, and he is my patient, I couldn't tell you either." |
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D.J. nodded her understanding. "Why did he come up here if he's not well?" |
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D.J. rolled her eyes. "Right, Danny boy. He wouldn't walk across the street for me." |
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"You're wrong. He came up here to save you today. I told him to wait in town. The climb was too dangerous after the storm, but he wouldn't hear me. He's as stubborn as you when he makes up his mind about something. Whatever you might have believed, however he's acted in the past, he loves you, D.J. He just wasn't capable of showing it." |
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D.J. nodded. She recalled small things her father had done, things that her bitterness had blinded her from noticing before now: the chair in the tree stand positioned so he could watch out for her, even though he couldn't be with her; the sleeping bag on the floor of his room, always available without a word of reproach for her irrational fear; and the greatest sacrifice of all: today he had come to her rescue, though the trip would cost him his life. |
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