She nodded dumbly and dried her eyes on th
e handkerchief George offered. When she was composed, she went into the dim room. The machines were still beeping. Tiny green and red lights flashed. All else was still.
“Kathleen,” Seth said weakly.
“Yes, darling.” She went to him quickly and sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hand in hers.
“Did I hear some commotion outside?”
“S—Someone dropped a tray, I think, and everyone got excited.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a bedpan?” He laughed pitifully. She smiled. “Maybe it was.”
“You look beautiful tonight. I always liked you in that color of green.”
“That’s why I wore it. I knew you liked it.”
His hand came up to stroke her cheek and then rub a strand of her hair through his fingers. “You’re so beautiful.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I’m not.” She longed to rid her heart of its guilt and tell him just how ugly she was, but she knew that would only add to his torment.
She was helpless to keep the physical pain away, but she wouldn’t be responsible for his emotional death as well.
“Yes, you are. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His eyes closed and he drew a deep, shuddering breath that terrified her. Then he opened his eyes again. “Kathleen, take care of Hazel for me. She won’t have anyone but you and Theron. She’ll need you. Help her. She’s not strong like you are.”
Kathleen would promise him anything. It was a promise she would never have to keep. Her help would be the last thing Hazel would want. Seth would die still blind to his sister’s hatefulness, but Kathleen wouldn’t destroy any of his illusions about anyone. “I will,” she said. “I promise.”
He sighed in relief. “How is Theron?”
“He’s wonderful. He said ‘puppy’ today. Alice told me.”
“He’s a wonderful son. I wish I could have seen him one more time.” He took her hand in his and held it as tightly as his reduced strength would allow. “He was mine, wasn’t he? For the short time I had with him, he was my son.”
“Yes,” she said on a sob. “Yes, my beloved, he was yours.”
“I can’t tell you how happy the two of you have made me. For the past two years, I’ve felt like a man again, with a wife and a son. Thank you, Kathleen.”
“Darling, it’s you who should be thanked.” A tear rolled down her face and he caught it on the tip of his finger. “Seth,” she pleaded, “don’t leave me. I’ll be so alone without you.”
He smiled gently. “You won’t be alone for long.” Before she could question him on that, he continued. “If I were whole and strong, I’d fight anything or anyone for you, Kathleen. But I’m not. I’m very tired. Love me enough to let me leave.”
“I do love you, Seth.”
“Stay with me tonight.” He clutched her hand.
“I will. I’ll be right here for as long as you want me.”
“I want you for eternity,” he whispered, and the beautiful mouth curved into his gentle smile. Once more, he found the strength to touch her cheek. “Kathleen, you are my dearest, dearest love.” Then he closed his eyes.
For once, fate favored Seth. He died just as he wanted to—painlessly, in his sleep, taking the vision of Kathleen’s face with him.
* * *
Erik watched the petite figure as she walked toward the flower-banked casket. She walked unassisted, though George and Eliot were close behind her. Hazel walked beside her, but at a distance.
Chairs had been provided at the gravesite for members of the family. Others stood clustered around, as Erik did, watching the survivors of Seth Kirchoff as they took their seats to listen to the brief words the rabbi would deliver.
She looked thin and pale, Erik thought. Her dress was a simple black sheath, unrelieved by any jewelry. Her hair had been pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had scorned a hat and veil like the one that swathed Hazel’s head.