Peter's Flashback (continued)

Peter Belden shook with cold and fear as he tried to get someone, anyone, on the accident scene to tell him where Bill Regan was. He knew the young man was no longer in the truck. The busted back glass was obvious proof of that. But, if EMS crews had removed Bill from his wrecked truck, then Peter wondered, was he hurt badly enough to require a trip to the hospital? And, if he was, then which emergency room had he been taken to? Peter's frightened thoughts swirled in his head.

If anything has happened to Bill….he didn't want to think of what that could do to Hallie, now.

"Please!" He begged a firefighter who was pulling out hazmat equipment to clean up an oil puddle on the street. "I…I must know where the driver of that truck is! Is he hurt? Did they take him to the hospital?"

"Are you…a relative?" The young man asked with a tired sigh.

"I…uh…" Peter knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. "He's my younger brother. Please!"

The man passed the contents of his hands to another fireman and took Peter aside.

"I think he refused transport, actually," the suited worker said casually. "Let's find out."

Leading Peter through a maze of emergency trucks and police cars, the young man stopped when he came upon a Battalion Chief who was barking orders into a radio on his shoulder.

"Chief," the young firefighter said after a while, "this guy's the brother of the big dude they pulled out of the truck. Do we know what happened to him? I know EMS took the chick from the sedan to the hospital, but did they take him, too?"

Peter's mind was racing. He hadn't seen a sedan. What was this man talking about? It had appeared to him that only Bill's vehicle had slid off the road into the snowbank. Where was this other car?

"Nah," the white collared chief said with a sniff. He turned to Peter. "Your brother's over there giving his statement." He pointed to another cluster of cop cars and then turned back to continue growling at the person on the other end of his radio.

Peter felt his legs turn to jelly. On one hand he was relieved to learn that Bill was not severely injured, but he couldn't stop fearing that the young man was now possibly feeling guilty that another person had been hurt in the accident.

He must have slid into that other woman's car. Poor guy. He already carries a load of guilt about not being there with Danny when he passed away. He doesn't need this, too.

But, when he got closer to where Bill was standing with the police officers, guilt was not the expression Peter read in the younger man's handsome face.

It was anger.

"I already told you," Bill was saying in a frustrated voice, "it all happened too fast for me to know whether or not she was swerving uncontrollably! I saw her car coming over onto my side of the road, so I turned to avoid hitting her head-on. My truck slid off the side of the road and into the bank. End of story! Whether or not she was driving like she was drunk is something I can't tell you! Besides, what does it matter? You're the ones with the breathalyzer tests. Now that she's crashed and quit running, you can check for sure to see if she's drunk. I mean…come on! Why do you keep asking me the same questions over and over?"

"We just want to make sure we have a complete and accurate account of what happened, Mr. Regan," an older police officer said gently.

"Well, now you have everything you need. Can you please get me a tow truck, so I can get out of here?" Regan asked impatiently.

"We've already called for one," another police officer assured him. "It should be here, soon. Why don't you just sit in the back seat over here and try to calm down."

"I am calm," Bill said severely. "And, I'm not sitting in the back of that patrol car like some kind of criminal, either. She ran me off the road, not the other way around. I'm not the one at fault here!"

Peter noted the long bandage running up the groom's muscular arm and the way the young man was suddenly rubbing it gingerly with a pained expression.

He's hurt, he thought, alarmed.

The older man couldn't stay back any longer.

"Bill!" He called out as he came closer. "Thank God I found you. Are you okay?"

Regan's mouth flew open and his green eyes were suddenly huge with surprise. If he hadn't been so completely worried about the young man, Peter would have laughed out loud at the groom's goofy reaction.

"Uh…Mr…"

"Now don't worry, little brother," Peter interrupted before Regan could call him Mr. Belden. "Your boss Mr. Wheeler won't be too upset that you didn't make it to his Christmas party. Like everyone else, he'll just be happy you walked away from this." He stepped close to put his arm across Bill's shoulder and pointed down at the bloody bandage between them. "Looks like a nasty cut you've got there. Shouldn't we go get you some stitches before we head home?"

"I uh…no, it's fine…uh…"

"Hah! Look at that. My brother at a loss for words. Thought I'd never see the day!" Peter gave Bill a wink and a playful squeeze to the shoulders. He could tell the young man was finally catching on to the ruse, so he quickly released him to stop jostling him around too much. "If he's all through, here," Peter said to the older police officer, "I can take him with me, and we'll leave you an address you can give to the tow truck driver when he…"

"No! No…I uh…that is…we can just wait for the truck to get pulled out of the snow, can't we Peter?" Regan stammered quickly.

His sudden hesitancy to leave made Peter suspicious.

"Come on, it's cold out here, and you've been through enough already. Don't you want to get warm? We can deal with the truck later."

"But…I…I left something…in the cab. Something…I…need," Bill hissed.

A flush of red the same color as Bill's hair crept up the young man's face, causing Peter's curiosity to peak.

What in the world is he talking about?

"He's done with his statement," the gray headed police officer said suddenly to Mr. Belden, "so you two can go if you want…or stay and wait for a tow…or whatever…" His voice faded as he went back to the report he was now writing on a clipboard.

Regan suddenly murmured a quick thank you, begged to be excused for a moment, and then pulled Peter aside to explain why he didn't want to abandon his pickup.

"I…uh…left Hallie's Christmas gift in the cab of the truck. And…see…it's kind of…personal. I really need to get it out. You know…before…anyone else…sees it.

Peter couldn't stop himself from going into his protective mode.

"If it's lingerie, I'm going to punch you," he growled.

"No! Peter! Oh my gosh, no! It's not that!"

The tension suddenly melted as Peter let out an exhausted laugh and shook his head.

"Then, I guess we'd better see if we can borrow something to shovel snow with."

"You…mean…just like that…you're gonna help me? I thought…I thought you hated me, right now."

The shock on Regan's face made Peter wince.

"I guess I have been a little…rough…on you lately, huh?"

"You think?" Bill shot back with a sheepish grin.

A half hour later, after digging out one of the doors to the old pickup, a worn out and trembling Bill Regan was able to reach his good arm into the cab and pull out what looked like a large manila envelope.

"That's it?" Peter asked breathlessly. Surely he hadn't just shoveled all that snow for some flimsy old envelope. "This better be good, kid," he teased.

Regan ignored him as he dragged his tired body over to a rocky outcropping on the side of the road and heaved himself down on it. He held up the envelope and beckoned Peter over.

"You'll understand…when you see it," he panted. Removing his big hands from covering the logo printed on the front of the envelope, he turned the paper container over for the other man's inspection.

"Cryobank?" Peter read it and asked it at the same time. "Isn't that the…"

"What's the one thing in the world Hallie wants for Christmas, but no one can give her?" Regan interrupted with tears in his eyes. The sight of raw grief tore the older man's heart.

"Dan," Peter breathed.

And, suddenly everything was clear.

The large envelope Bill had in his hand contained the paperwork on Dan's frozen genetic samples which had been donated and stored before his death. It was why the young man had braved the snow to go all the way to White Plains. He was obviously planning on relinquishing control of them to Hallie. It was a beautiful gesture, and it revealed so much more to Peter than just Regan's undying love for his nephew.

If he could actually give her back to Dan, he would. He loves her that much! So, instead, he's giving a part of Dan to Hallie.

It was then that Peter knew he had been wrong to oppose Bill and Hallie's love. Their romance was more than a feeble attempt to heal their broken hearts. He knew Bill would rather die than ever hurt his niece.

Their love was the real thing.

"Oh Bill, I'm…I'm so sorry," Peter said quietly. "And, I'm ashamed of the way I've acted. I…I just didn't want either of you to get hurt. You…you must understand…"

"I do." Bill said with a watery smile. "Hallie's just like that too. She'd do anything to protect someone she loves."

"Seems like she's not the only one." Peter nodded his head at the item in the groom's tight grasp. "It wasn't just your own embarrassment you were worried about with that paperwork being out in the open, was it?"

Regan blushed and gave a little chuckle.

"I guess I just can't stop looking out for him. Even though he's…" He couldn't say it. The truth of Dan's absence was too heavy on him to let him say the word "gone."

It was then that the tow truck was making its arrival on the scene, flashing beams of amber and white light across the wet pavement, and Peter was relieved. He didn't think he could take the depth of Bill's current emotions much longer. He needed a distraction and a chance to get warm before he could form the right words to say in order to help this young man. He made himself a promise that someday, soon, he would reach out to Bill and help him find some peace.

But, not like this. Not here.

"Come on," Peter said, gently pulling the other man up to a standing position and clapping him tenderly on the back. "That rig will have your old truck pulled out of there in a flash, and we need to try to find a phone so the womenfolk at Manor House won't fret themselves to death worrying about us."

"Okay, but…um…can I ask you something?" Regan looked around and lowered his voice so the others around them wouldn't hear.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I gather you told them I was your brother, right?"

Peter laughed.

"They wouldn't tell me where you were if I hadn't. Hey, don't worry. I made it clear you were my little brother. No one would possibly think you were old like me."

But, then to Peter's surprise, Regan's eyes held disappointment instead of relief. Hmmm. That's interesting.

"What?" he asked the younger man.

"Oh…nothing. Never mind."

"Come on. What did you want to ask me?"

"It's just…well…you did a really good job of acting like you were worried about me, and I wondered…was any of that real?"

The large man was wringing his hands nervously and shyly avoided Peter's gaze, which told the older man that he was desperately hoping the fear hadn't been just a mere part of the brotherly act.

Once a family-starved orphan, always a family-starved orphan, Peter silently observed.

It reminded him of the way Dan had always seemed to crave being included in the Belden family. To see the same need in Regan was somewhat unexpected. Still, Peter couldn't ignore it.

"Yeah, you big lug, I really was worried about you!" He suddenly blurted out rubbing his knuckles on top of Bill's carrot top. "But, don't go spreading it around, okay? I'll look like a big softie."

"Okay," Bill said with warm look of satisfaction. "And…um thanks. For caring about me…I mean."

"No problem. That's what family's for, right?"

Peter could tell his message had been received, because the younger man was swallowing hard and trying to hide his rapidly blinking eyes.

"Right," he choked out. "That's exactly what family is for."

Stay tuned, and Merry Christmas!