Sins of Omission by Fern Michaels Page A

course. I asked her to check on you and let me know how you were doing. Every day she brought me a report on your progress.”
    â€œShe could have invited anyone, Reuben. Anyone! She picked us. I hope she’s right about the war being over soon.”
    â€œI hope so, too. I’ve had enough, we’ve given enough. I want to put this war behind me and go on. With or without Mickey’s help.”
    Reuben wasn’t ready to discuss the Mickey issue further, not even with Daniel. He hadn’t figured it out in his own head yet. All he knew was whatever happened, however it had happened, he and Daniel were now a team. With will and motivation, he would succeed one way or another. Daniel would ultimately get to law school, that much was definite. “Why don’t I put a record on the phonograph for you,” he offered. “You can sit here and rest your eyes. You’ve been up for a few hours now, so you should have some compresses for at least an hour. What do you say?”
    â€œFine with me. What will you do meantime?”
    Reuben smiled. Daniel’s anxiety was something they were both going to have to deal with. One way or another he had to wipe away Daniel’s fear, but he didn’t know how…yet. Maybe as Daniel’s eyesight improved, his confidence would return. “First I’ll go outside and get some air. Walk around this little country house and see how it looks from the outside. Then—hey, how much of the house have you taken in so far? Did Mickey show you around this morning?”
    â€œJust as much as you, I guess. She was waiting for me when I came downstairs and took me right in for breakfast. Why?”
    â€œGood! Then I’ll reconnoiter while you’re resting and report back with the details of my mission. Okay?”
    When Reuben returned an hour later he found Daniel stretched out on the leather sofa with his slippers off and his feet propped on cushions. His good arm lay across the cast of the other, and for one crazy moment Reuben thought he was dead. Daniel stirred at the sound of his footsteps.
    â€œReuben?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHow long have you been gone?”
    â€œOnly an hour.”
    â€œIt seems longer.”
    â€œYes. Keep the compresses on a few minutes more,” he urged when his friend began to rise. “It’s not as though you have somewhere to go. They help, so keep them on as long as you can tolerate them.” Did his voice sound as paternal to Daniel as it did to himself? He burst out laughing when Daniel spoke.
    â€œYes, Father. I know you mean well. That’s how a father would sound, isn’t it, Reuben? Since I never had one, I have to rely on stories I’ve heard and my books.”
    â€œI wasn’t trying to sound paternal. Brotherly, perhaps. As little as I can recall, my own father wasn’t a man of many words. Months went by and he hardly spoke to me.”
    â€œDo you know how often I wished I had parents? I mean, I had them, but I don’t know who they are. I kept thinking all the time we were at the front that if I died there wouldn’t be anyone to send the telegram to. That thought was terrible. To come over here and fight and die and be buried or left somewhere in the trenches to rot and no one would care.”
    â€œYes, but neither of us has to worry about that now. We’re alive and we buried our savagery back there in the trenches. I didn’t save your life for you to fret and stew about yesterday. It’s behind us, Daniel.”
    â€œDid I ever thank you, Reuben? You know what I mean—a real thank-you? Someday I’m going to be able to thank you properly. I know you think I’m just a dumb green kid, and I guess I am. I’ll grow up, though.”
    Reuben let his shoes scuff the carpet. To cover his embarrassment, he lit a cigarette and put it in Daniel’s hand and then took one for himself. “Someday I’ll take the