Evening Hours. Mary Baxter Lynn

needs to do something,” Cutler said more to himself than to his dad.

      Steven Hughes was not only Mary’s physician but a member of her church and a longtime friend. Mary trusted him without hesitation. Although he had a reputation for being a crackerjack heart specialist, Cutler had urged Mary to seek a second opinion, something that hadn’t gone over well in the McFarland household. To date, Mary had opted not to take his advice.

      Maybe now that would change.

      “Steven didn’t think the hospital was necessary,” Trevor said. “I…we have to trust he knows best.”

      Cutler was about to disagree, but knew now was not the time. Whether or not his mother sought a second opinion was not Trevor’s choice. He released a sigh and said, “One of these days she’s going to fall and break something.”

      “I know.” Trevor’s eyes remained troubled. “But you know how stubborn she is. Or at least you should. You inherited the same trait.”

      Cutler ignored that latter comment, and continued to watch his mother. Where the hell was the doctor? He couldn’t believe she wasn’t on her way to the E.R., but for now he had no choice but to trust the doctor.

      “Since you’re with her, I’m going downstairs and wait for Steven.”

      Cutler nodded, easing into the chair that Trevor had pulled up to the bed. Though he was wired to the max, Cutler forced himself to remain seated. Reaching out, he took his mother’s hand in his and held it, feeling his heart constrict.

      She had to pull through. The alternative was not even a consideration. Mary had always been and would always be his best friend and ally. Even though he had a good relationship with his dad, his mother was the mainstay in his life. He couldn’t conceive of her not being there for him.

      Under the circumstances, however, he realized that kind of thinking was unrealistic. She had been diagnosed with a weak heart muscle that surgery could not correct. Only medication would help, and she already took plenty of that.

      From the outset, Dr. Hughes had told them that Mary could live to be an old woman or she could die at any moment. If she took care of herself, he’d added, her chances of survival were much better, of course.

      Cutler almost snorted out loud at the thought of his mother taking care of herself. She took care of others. She was a pastor of a fairly large community church, and her entire existence centered around helping others. That was what made her the special person she was.

      Yet that devotion to her fellow man could very well bring about her demise, which grieved him because he didn’t see her ever changing. Mary appeared to be the picture of health. A tall woman, rawboned in stature with a flair for the dramatic, she carried herself as though she was proud of her height.

      He had her blue eyes and her hair.

      She wasn’t pretty; like his, her features were too strong for that. Yet she was never ignored in a crowd because of her powerful presence.

      “Mom, can you hear me?”

      Cutler held her hand tighter when she didn’t respond. That’s when he felt a gentle squeeze, though she still didn’t open her eyes. But she knew he was there and that was what counted.

      “Mom, you gotta stop pulling these stunts,” he said. “I can’t have you lying in bed, especially not in an election year.”

      Suddenly Mary’s eyes popped open and she gave him a weak smile. “You selfish brat, you.”

      He laughed outright, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. “How do you feel?”

      “Like I’ve been beaten with a wet rope. Other than that I feel just fine.”

      “Sure you do.”

      Mary struggled to sit up.

      He clamped a hand on her arm. “Whoa, let’s not get too feisty.”

      “I’m okay.”

      “Mom, you passed out.”

      An irritated look crossed her face. “Well, I’m okay now.”

      “Did anyone ever tell you what a stubborn broad you are?”

      Mary slapped him on the hand. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

      They both grinned, then he leaned over and gave her a hug as he eased her back down on the bed. “Stay put. Steven is on his way.”

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I don’t need him.”

      “Really? You can’t keep on like this. Something’s gotta give.”

      “If you’ll help me sit up…”

      Cutler shook his head. “Help? If I have to assist you, then you’re far from okay.”

      “Get out of the way, then, and I’ll get up on my own.”

      “One of these days—”

      Ignoring him, she struggled upright, then gave him a triumphant look. “Goes to show you can’t keep a good woman down.”

      Cutler turned as the doctor, followed by his father, made their way into the room. Steven was of medium height with red curly hair and a ruddy complexion.

      Moving aside, Cutler let Steven have access to his mother, but watched ever so carefully while he examined her.

      “Bottom line?” Cutler asked without preamble once Steven had stepped away from the bed.

      “She’s been overdoing it.”

      All eyes riveted on Mary, who looked both irritated and unrepentant.

      Cutler would cheerfully have throttled her if it would have done any good. “How ’bout we chain her to the bed, Doc?” he said, staring at his mother through narrowed eyes.

      Mary swung onto the side of the bed. “Just because you’re grown, young man, doesn’t mean you can back talk your mother.”

      Cutler spread his hands, then stared pointedly at the doctor.

      

      Steven didn’t shuck his responsibility. “Mary, I’m not going to preach to you. I’m going to leave that to you.” He smiled.

      Mary gave him one of her looks.

      “What I’m not going to leave you is the choice to obey or disobey.”

      Cutler watched Mary jut her chin as though prepared to fight.

      “You’re wasting your time giving me one of your quelling glares. I’m immune. I’m changing your medication and I expect you to rest one hour or longer every day.” He glanced at Cutler, then Trevor. “I’m depending on you guys to see that she complies.”

      “That’s not going to happen,” Mary said with force.

      Trevor crossed to the bed, peered down at his wife and said, “Oh, yes, it is, sweetheart.”

      “Thanks, Dad,” Cutler said, throwing his mother a grin. “You can count on me to do my part.”

      Mary glared at all three before a slow smile softened her features. “All right. I’ll try it your way and see what happens.”

      “Praise God,” Cutler muttered, rolling his eyes.

      “Son, don’t drag the Lord into this.”

      Though his mother’s tone was prim, Cutler heard the humor edging it. Confident that this crisis had passed, he walked over and kissed Mary on the cheek. “I’ll talk to you later. Meanwhile, behave yourself or else.”

      Had he been in the audience the entire time?

      Kaylee tried not to panic, but she couldn’t help it. Cutler McFarland was the last person she expected to see at this