Chapter Forty-Four

Driving through South Lake Tahoe, Trapper stopped at the shops just before Stateline to buy a bouquet of flowers. He stood on the sidewalk, looking at the bouquet when he realized he didn't remember most of the trip there. The ride up Highway 50 along the American River had always been one of his favorites, but today, he had been preoccupied. What was he going to say when he got to Leah that would make a difference? He hadn't really thought this through, instead acting on a knee-jerk reaction to her disappearance. What if it was him who needed to be there more that she needed him there? Shaking his head, he got into his car and pulled out on the road.

When he turned down the road into Glenbrook, he was met by a gate guard. "Your name, sir?"

"John McIntyre. I'm here to see Leah Haverty."

"I don't have a Haverty on my list."

"Leah Haverty Lewis."

"The Lewises are residents. They won't be on this list. Wait one moment, please." The guard went back into the gate house and made a phone call. In another minute, the gate began to open. Handing Trapper a card, the guard explained the use of the code written on it before Trapper proceeded through the gate. He found the driveway to the house and slowly drove down its slope to a rustic two-story redwood and rock-clad house set back in the trees near the shore of the lake. Taking the flowers from the passenger seat, he made his way up the curved walkway to the front door and just looked at it for a moment; a beautifully carved, heavy redwood door. Maybe it should've been David Sandler standing at this door. With some trepidation, he raised his arm and knocked.

Leah had been pacing in front of the three wide French doors that led out to a deck looking over the lake. Though he sounded more worried on the phone than anything, she thought he might still be angry about what had taken place in Slocum's conference room. Maybe it had been a mistake to tell him where she was. Perhaps she should have just disappeared as she had four years ago. She stopped pacing and turned, hearing a knock on the front door. Maybe he would leave if she didn't answer. No, he was tenacious, and he had come all this way. He wouldn't just walk away. She had thought he might care for her, and he had said as much; not in so many words; just four little ones. 'I do. I am.' But he had been so angry.

Hearing nothing, Trapper knocked again. He knew she was in the house; the guard had called before he was allowed to pass through the gate. "Leah?"

Standing on the other side with her forehead against the door, she heard him call. His voice sounded anxious. She pushed the handle down and pulled the door open. For a moment, they simply looked at each other. In that moment, she saw only compassion in his eyes even as he saw the pain of the conflict between her job and her heart rise to the surface and erupt in a torrent of tears. Wrapping his arms around her, he moved her away from the door, kicking it closed behind him, and held her there until she found composure.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes.

"It's all right. I imagine you've been doing a lot of that in the last few days. These are for you," he said, handing her the flowers.

"Did you bring luggage?" she asked, sniffling.

"Why don't I go get that while you take care of the flowers?" He kissed her forehead before heading out the door and coming back in a matter of minutes. "Where should I put this?"

"Upstairs. Except for the master bedroom at the end of the hall, you can have any room you like. I would suggest the first one on the back side of the house. It opens onto a deck and has a beautiful view."

When he came back down, Leah was just moving the flowers to a table in the living area. "Did you have a chance to get something to eat? We're only a couple of hours away from dinner, but I can make you a sandwich if you're hungry?"

Taking her hand, he pulled her into another hug. "I'm not hungry. I was worried." They stood in the center of the living area for a moment, just holding on. "Do you feel like talking?"

"I was kinda hoping we could just forget about it and move on."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Trapper, moving away just enough to see her eyes. "If you don't deal with it now, it might be another four years before you do."

"Let's go outside. It's a beautiful day." The two strolled hand in hand out the middle French door to side-by-side deck chairs where Leah had a variety of magazines and books stacked haphazardly on a side table along with an empty glass and a plate covered in what looked like what was supposed to have been lunch.

"Have you been eating?"

"Don't start that, please. There've been extenuating circumstances."

"You can't afford extenuating circumstances." Patting her knee, he said, "Stay put. I'll be right back." When he returned, he carried a glass of milk and a container of mixed nuts. "Eat the almonds and pecans."

She took a pecan from the jar, nibbling on an edge thoughtfully. "Do you understand now why my staff was in the basement?"

Thinking for a moment, Trapper smiled. "So you didn't have to see what went on in the hospital."

"So we didn't have to see."

She moved to the edge of her chair and turned to him. "Trapper, a company like mine has to insulate itself from those life and death situations in order to do what they have been chartered to do. Companies like mine are there to enforce rules and regulations and policies and procedures, and if we can't do that, keeping the function of the businesses out of it, entities like The Joint Committee or the insurance commissions won't approve our products that are supposed to ensure enforcement. That's why we work with the decision makers of a company to make sure things like what happened at your hospital don't happen."

"I still think you were hiding behind how you've defined your job."

"I didn't define my job. My company defined it, and that's why I've done it this way. I've never had a problem keeping my job and the life and death decisions of a hospital separate simply because I didn't involve myself in it. I should never have been a patient at your hospital…were my job was. I met your patients. I met…you," she said more quietly. "I've lost my objectivity, and that's why I quit. And since someone had to take the fall, my quitting took care of that, too." She slumped back in her chair. "The saddest part of all this is that I could have entered the authorization codes." Sitting forward, Trapper looked pointedly at her. "I don't know why that surprises you. I have access to everything in that system while it's being implemented. If I had been there and you had come to me instead of Mark with the situation, I would have entered the codes. I would also have resigned because I had no authority to do that, but at least the audit reports wouldn't have shown anything abnormal, and the hospital would have avoided any censure."

Trapper snorted and looked out at the lake, biting the inside of his cheek before he faced her again. "Then what is this all about? Why did you run away?"

"It's about the conflict between doing my job and my inability to think about the life of a child because of my job as you said. But it's also about firing Mark; something that the job demanded, and then you being so angry at me for doing my job." She dropped her forehead into her hand. "You were angry, Mark was angry, Dr. Gates was standing between you to stop the two of you from fighting, and I was…done with it all." She stood and went to the deck railing. "I should have fought harder when the board decided there'd be only one person with that kind of authority. I knew it was a mistake then. That started everything. If the system had been completed, and we were gone, Maria Sanchez might have died. If Maria had died because I did my job, I don't think I could live with myself."

Pushing himself up from the chair, he went to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "There are a lot of 'ifs' in all of this that didn't happen. Every one of us did things we regret now…you, Arnold…me. The point is, we learn from our mistakes and move forward. Running away…that's a step in the wrong direction." He leaned forward to see her face, but she turned away. "Your company wants you back, you know. You should at least talk to them. Now that Arnold has listened to your recommendation, this situation won't happen again."

"It won't happen at San Francisco Memorial. But what about the next hospital?"

Turning up the corner of his mouth, he said, "You don't let it happen again."

She didn't respond, but rather looked out over the lake and sighed.

"Don't you want to go back to work?"

"Why? That was my first day back. Look what the job turned me into. I don't need to work. John took care of that."

Trapper turned her to face him. "You need your job. You'd go crazy without it. More to the point, I'm not ready to leave my job, and without me to entertain you, what would you do all day?" he said, trying to hold back a grin. He let it show when he saw her eyes roll, her head turn and a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Tilting his head and shrugging slightly, he finished, "You just need to control the job instead of letting it control you." Both looked down at his stomach when it growled. "Maybe we should go find something for dinner," he said, chuckling.

"I know just the place." He looked at her with raised brows. "Chez Haverty. I hope you like leftovers."