Author: Nancy
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters do not belong to me so this effort
is not for monetary gain, just
for my own pleasure and perhaps a few who like to read about my
favorite show.
Classification: Harm and Mac Romance/Drama
Rating: PG
Summary: How many times can Mac deal with saying goodbye to Harm?
Will this be their last goodbye? This contains some of the current
events of the times. This was written October 2001.
PART 7
Each day Sarah Rabb watched her grandson struggle to walk up and down the few steps to her front porch. She refrained from helping him up whenever he stumbled and fell over the unleveled surfaces around the farm as he fought to overcome his disability and his diminished sense of self worth. As the weeks passed he was able to switch to a cane to help maintain his balance.
Her heart ached for him as she remembered how gracefully he would carry himself and how effortlessly he ran ten miles each morning, but he was alive she reminded her self and for that, she would be eternally grateful.
This particular afternoon Sarah noticed a familiar beat up old pick up truck pull up in front of her house. The old farmer wearing coveralls exited the antique vehicle becoming quickly short of breath with the effort.
Jim had been widower for several years and a neighbor of Sarah Rabb's for nearly a half of a century. He didn't look like much, but he was one of those salt of the earth types who would give you the shirt off his back. Mr. Jim's old pick up had pulled many a stranded car out of a ditch or a snowdrift. "How ya doing Mrs. Sarah?"
"Fine Jim, would you like to come in for some coffee?"
"This would be real nice Sarah. That grandson of yours wouldn't happen to be around?"
"He just went inside. You need to talk with him?" Sarah was beginning to have a few visitors stop by to see Harm once word was out that he was home again.
"I need some of his lawyer advice." He replied with trepidation.
"Harm! Mr. Jim's here. He needs your help." Sarah could hardly contain her excitement. This was just what her depressed grandson needed.
Harm's gait though more natural still had an uneven syncopated rhythm as he entered the room. Smiling he extended his free hand to the old farmer. "How ya doing Mr. Jim?"
"I've been better Harm." Jim looked frazzled as he scratched his chin.
"Why don't you two sit down, and I'll make some coffee." Sarah excused herself and headed for the kitchen.
"Grandma said you needed some legal advice."
"Harm the bank wants to take my land away. I had to put a second mortgage on my place a few years back when I fell and broke my hip. Ron Stafford was bank president then. Local boy. Sometimes I couldn't make the payments, and he would let me have an extension until I could get caught up. Some new folks bought the bank out last year and when I missed a few payments they sent me a letter saying they were going to take my farm away from me." He pulled out the letter for Harm to examine.
"How much was the mortgage?" Harm began to gather information from the flustered older man.
After coffee and homemade peanut butter cookies, both Harm and Mr. Jim looked a hundred percent better. Mr. Jim had someone on his side, and Harm had someone who needed him. "I'll need to go with you to review the contract at the bank tomorrow." Harm shook Mr. Jim's hand.
"How much will I owe ya Harm?"
"How about picking me up. I could use a ride. I'm not quiet up to driving yet." Harm smiled.
"You hurt your leg or something."
"Or something." Harm quickly tried to dismiss the attention away from his leg.
"Did you break your hip? I broke mine when I fell off my steps a couple of winters ago." Jim persisted.
"I took a missile strike to my aircraft. It messed up my leg." Harm explained hoping this would satisfy the man's curiosity.
"Ben Ladin's people did that to ya?" He crinkled up his brow. "Damn terrorists! I fly ole glory on my flagpole everyday to show 'em! Damn terrorists! Damn banks!" He got up and muttered his mantra. "I'll pick you up in the morning Harm. We'll go give that bank hell!"
Harm repressed a chuckle as the old man held up his fist for emphasis.
Mac looked up from her desk to see Phillip standing at the door in his naval uniform. "Phillip! You look quite dashing in your dress blues."
He smiled and replied; "Duty calls. I'm at Bethesda for the next couple of weeks. Thought you would like to grab some lunch."
She frowned, "I am really snowed." She sounded disappointed but beamed as he raised his eyebrows and held up a bag of burgers.
"How about some dead cow?" He teased only to see her expression fade. "I'm sorry. I thought you liked burgers." Phillip replied not understanding the reason for her sudden change.
"Burgers are great. You just reminded me of someone." She replied promptly.
"A vegetarian?"
"Almost. Let's go find someplace quiet." She diverted the conversation to a more comfortable subject.
"I saw a nice table near the large oak tree outside." He suggested.
"No." Her reply was a little sharper than intended. "I meant to say it's a little cool. How about on the benches where the suns shines." She added.
"I can't thank you enough Harm. You talked circles around that bank officer. I'm going to tell everyone that you are the one to see for their legal affairs." Jim chattered happily as they were served coffee at the Bealsville Café. "You are going to hang up your shingle now that you're back home?"
"I'm still considering my options." Harm replied over his cup of coffee.
"Lilly, you remember Harm don't ya." Jim called to an older woman who managed the cash register.
"You're Sarah's grandson. Harm, it's been too long." She came over and hugged his neck.
"You look so much like your grandpa."
"He and my dad must have looked alike because everyone usually says I look like my dad." Harm enjoyed the sentiment of the older pair.
"Your grandfather broke every girl's heart when he married Sarah." She gushed. "My he was such a handsome man. He died too young. He and your father." Lilly lamented.
"They were both shot down defending our country. Harm here was shot down by them damn terrorists. We're lucky he made it back." Jim added.
Feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Harm pushed himself up from the chair and gave some excuse about needing to pick something up for his grandmother. He hobbled out of the café with the assistance of his cane.
No one had to tell Jim of Harm's injury. He may have been old, but he was still sharp. "Those bastards shot the boy's leg off." Jim whispered softly to Lilly who nodded sympathetically.
Mac and Phillip enjoyed the last of their lunch and talked casually for the remainder of the break. "Do you like orthopedics?" Mac asked.
"I like fixing things. I always have. My Mom swears I loved to repair anything that broke in the house. I guess I was destined."
"Must be rewarding to help people." Mac observed.
"Most of the time. Sometimes you can't always fix what's wrong. I've done more amputations this last year." He sighed. "Those guys we send to defend us go through a hell no one will ever understand. Some of them come away maimed, paralyzed, and some don't make it home." He frowned as he thought about the negative outcomes of his job. "I was serving in Germany earlier this year. I had this pilot come in. The vascular surgeon and I worked for hours to try to save his leg. But we couldn't." He shook his head in frustration.
"But you saved his life." Mac added.
"At the time, I think he would have rather died." Phillip said solemnly, "Enough of this, tell me about you Colonel Mackenzie. What brought you here to JAG headquarters?"
"My uncle stole the Declaration of Independence..." She began and smiled at his dubious look.
"So your partner was hanging on to the helicopter helping you to fight off those creeps?" Phillip sounded amazed after Mac finished telling the story.
"Yep and then he defended my uncle at his court martial." Mac added.
"Sounds like a legend. Where is he now?"
"He's a CAG on one of the carriers. He returned to his one true love." Mac said with a little harshness.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."
"Actually most aren't bad." Mac whispered.
Harm found a steady flow of neighbors and townspeople coming to him for legal assistance. He tried to refuse payment, but found bushels of vegetables or homemade bread at the door. One day he awoke to the sound of several men climbing around of the roof. They had decided Sarah needed a new one before the next snow.
Everyone knew his secret, but respected him enough to go along with his need to hide it.
Sarah Rabb felt the crushing pain more and more frequently. She was taking up to three of the little pills before the pain subsided. She probably needed to see the doctor, but that seemed so silly she thought as she prepared dinner. Harm built a fire in the fireplace and sat enjoying its warmth after he and his grandmother shared a meal. Sarah finished up the dishes and brought both of them a cup of hot cider. "It's going to be a cold one tonight."
Harm smiled at her and invited her to sit next to him. He placed his arm around her and gave her a hug. "Have I ever told you how much I love you Grandma?"
The older woman's gray blue eyes twinkled, "I've always known that Harm. Have I told you how much you remind me of your grandfather? I was thinking about him today. I can hear his voice like it was yesterday." A single tear fell from her eyes. "I don't know what has gotten into me lately. I'm getting to be such an sentimental old fool." She dabbed away the tear.
"Tell me about Grandpa." Harm tilted his head sideways so that it met hers as they stared into the fire.
"Tell me more about your partner. Sounds like you and he had some exciting moments." Phillip coaxed Mac.
"We went to Russia to search for his father. He and I flew in a Russian MIG and were shot down." Mac laughed at Phillip's expression.
"You followed him to Russia twice?" Phillip asked after Mac finished the story about the second trip to Russia. "You must really care about him."
"Yea. But he apparently doesn't feel the same." Mac said sadly.
"He was the one who was suppose to meet you at the restaurant." Phillip realized. "Did you ever find out what happened?"
"No."
"You owe it to yourself to find out. I wouldn't want to go through life wondering." Phillip squeezed her hand. "Whatever his reason was, you will be able to put it to rest."
"Your right." She let out a sigh, "That's the kind of advice he would have given me."
Harm remained alone on the sofa in front of the fireplace after his grandmother retired to her bedroom. The warm glow of the otherwise dark room fit his melancholy as he ruminated about his past. He could see Mac's funny way of smiling when she was being mischievous. He smiled sadly to himself as he visualized her giving him hell about something. Life just wasn't fair sometimes he thought as he surrendered to his fatigue and fell asleep on the sofa.
Harm awakened to the bright morning sun. He pushed himself up from the sofa and stretched out the stiffness from sleeping sitting up all night. He noticed the old clock on the mantel chimed eight times.
"Grandma?" He called. She always got up by six a.m. There was no coffee brewing. He called up the stairway. Hearing no response, he slowly climbed the steep steps holding tightly to the rail. When he reached the second floor he called again, "Grandma?" Cautiously he opened the door to her bedroom.
She appeared to be sleeping. He walked over and gently touched her, "Grandma?" he touched her cold face, "Oh Grandma." his hand trembled as he knelt clumsily at her bedside. He buried his face in her covers and cried.
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