Читать книгу Brought Together by Baby - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11

R achel surveyed the homey interior of the Starlight Diner, looking for her friends Pilar Estes, Meg Kierney and Anne Smith.

She had rushed through her interview with Bernie hoping to get here on time. It had been a while since she and her friends had been able to get together for brunch and they had lots of catching up to do.

“You looking for the girls?” Sandra Lange, the owner of the diner, met Rachel at the door, her blond hair worn in its usual teased up-do. She was tying on her apron. “I just got back from church myself, but I believe that Miranda put them in the far corner, by the window.”

“Thanks, Sandra.” Rachel paused before joining her friends, noting Sandra’s drawn features. “How have you been doing?”

“Oh, not too badly,” Sandra said, with a smile. “I have to go to the cancer clinic again and the doctor will tell me what I can expect. I’m just thankful for each day God gives me. And thankful that the wheels of God grind slowly, but they do grind and each movement brings me closer to the truth.”

She was talking in puzzles, but Rachel sensed that she wouldn’t get more out of Sandra right now. The difficulties Sandra had faced in her life had created strength of character that many people underestimated. “I’m glad that you have your faith, Sandra.”

“It’s not just faith, Rachel. It’s a relationship with a loving Father.”

Rachel didn’t want to refute Sandra’s comment. Rachel had her own issues with God, but didn’t want to get into that right now. So she simply smiled and excused herself to join her friends, who were already chatting and laughing around the table.

“Good morning, lovely ladies.” Rachel pulled a large envelope out of her briefcase and dropped it on the table.

“Meg Kierney, these are for you.”

With a squeal, Meg pounced on the envelope, her pale blue eyes shining with anticipation. “Wedding pictures?”

“Fresh from the developer. Picked them up on my way here.”

Anne and Pilar leaned over to look at the photos Meg had pulled out.

Old rivals Meg and Jared had met at the thirty-fifth anniversary for Tiny Blessings Adoption Agency. Meg had already gone through a bad divorce and Jared was a widower. When they discovered that their respective adopted boys, Luke and Chance, were twins separated at birth, the only practical solution was to get married for the sake of the boys. However, as they spent time together, they truly fell in love and later had another, private, more meaningful ceremony at the Chestnut Grove Community Church. It was this ceremony that Rachel had pictures of.

“Oh. Look at Luke and Chance. They’re so cute! I would love to have twins.” Anne traced the faces of the boys with a longing look. “Actually, I would love to have kids, period.”

“You will,” Pilar said, reaching over and hugging their friend. “You just need to realize that you truly are beautiful. And someday some lucky man will see that, too.”

When Rachel and her parents moved to Chestnut Grove, Pilar, Anne and Meg befriended Rachel, unfazed by her parents’ wealth and unimpressed by her background. Rachel was a quick, bright student and as a result had skipped two grades, making her younger than the children she went to school with. Younger and, in spite of her brains, unable to defend herself in the rough and tumble that comes with changing schools. Her youth, combined with her New England accent and her parents’ money had created a situation ripe for teasing from other girls who saw Rachel’s quiet shyness as snobbery. One day some of the girls in her class had her cornered in the playground and were teasing her. Anne, Pilar and Meg had found her. The older girls had intervened and taken Rachel under their wing. Eight years ago, Rachel had moved away, but since her return she had slipped back into their lives as easily as if she had never been gone. Through the ups and downs of life, they had become her confidantes, advisers and dearest friends.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to meet with a couple of clients close to Winchester Park. I thought church would be longer.” Rachel set her briefcase down on the floor beside her and brushed her hand over her hair. Still in place, surprisingly enough. When Eli Cavanaugh plowed into her, she was sure her hair had come loose.

“You look fine,” Pilar said. Then she frowned, touching the smudges on Rachel’s suit jacket. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“I interrupted a football game.”

“What?”

Rachel waved one well-manicured hand. That little confidence was a mistake. “Never mind.” She didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, she preferred not to think about Eli, his shirt open, and his hair curling damply over his forehead.

“And you’re blushing about that ‘never mind,’” Pilar teased.

Meg glanced from Pilar to Rachel and laughed. “She is. Look at that, girls. I didn’t think anything could faze our resident math whiz.” She elbowed Rachel lightly. “C’mon. Who is he?”

“It’s not a he.” And her cheeks got even redder as she unconsciously brushed the other sleeve.

Pilar turned her around. “Look, a matched set on this arm. Someone has been manhandling our friend, amigas. Should we rush out to defend her honor or should we make her sit here and eat her fries without ketchup until she confesses who did it and why?”

“Unless, of course, she went through ketchup withdrawal and then we’d have to rush her to the hospital,” Anne said.

“Too bad Dr. Cavanaugh is a pediatrician,” Pilar said with a soft sigh, twirling her dark hair around her finger.

“I bet Eli could melt this woman’s cold heart with those dreamy green eyes…”

“Look at her. She turned red as a beet when you said Eli’s name,” Meg cried out.

They were getting dangerously close to the truth. Rachel knew her friends weren’t going to quit until they solved her little mystery. “He was playing touch football and he ran into me while I was walking through the park, okay?” She looked around the group, from Anne’s gentle expression to Meg’s slightly cynical one to Pilar, who was grinning like she had discovered a deep, dark secret.

“I could run into that man any day,” Anne said. “He’s got an earthy appeal. He’s almost as good-looking as…” She glanced around the group and laughed self-consciously. “As Jared,” she said, flashing a smile Meg’s way.

“Well, that’s what happened,” Rachel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Now, can we order? I’m starving.”

“Eli’s single, I heard,” Meg said, looking from Anne to Pilar, still hot on the trail. “And isn’t he Gracie’s doctor?”

“Which has nothing to do with me,” Rachel emphasized. So much for diversion. The conversation was getting out of hand.

“I don’t know, Meg,” Pilar said with a wink. “I think this girl has been struck by the arrow of love.”

Rachel looked around at her so-called friends, sighed and pulled out the heavy ammunition. “He drives a motorcycle. Okay?”

The silence that followed this pronouncement showed Rachel how well her friends understood what that meant to her. She’d lost one man to a two-wheeled death machine.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” Miranda Jones stood in front of them, her arms clasped behind her back, her dark brown hair pulled up in a twist.

They were distracted in the flurry of ordering. After that, as they settled into their usual conversation, catching up on one another’s lives, Rachel felt herself relax. They ribbed her about her dedication to her work. Pilar shared some of her struggles with one of her most recent cases, Meg talked about her twin boys, Anne about her work at the church. Rachel settled in to the conversation, thankful for her friends and their company.

Then, as she was halfway through her hamburger, her cell phone chirped.

“Leave it,” Pilar, Meg and Anne all said at once.

But Rachel could no more let her cell phone ring than she could let her hair fly loose as her friends were always encouraging her to do.

She glanced at the call display. It was her father.

With an apologetic smile at her friends, she answered the phone, half turning away from her friends. “Hey, Dad.”

“Rachel, honey—” His voice broke.

Concern flashed through Rachel. “Dad. What’s the matter?”

“It’s your mother. We’re at the hospital. She broke her leg.”

“I’ll be there right away.”

She closed her phone and pulled her wallet out. “That was my dad,” she said, her voice trembling. “Sorry, girls, but I have to duck out. My mom broke her leg and is in the hospital.” She laid some bills on the table, enough for her meal and a large tip.

“Oh, no. Do you want me to take you over there?” Anne asked, half rising from her seat.

“No, no.” Rachel waved her down as she got up from the table. “I’ll be okay. Really, I’ll be fine.”

“Let us know how she is,” Pilar called out after her as Rachel hurried from the diner.

Fifteen minutes later she pulled open the door of the hospital and her brave words to her friends melted in the pervasive scent of disinfectant and ammonia. It rolled over her like a wave, dragging with it memories she wanted to be rid of.

Her steps faltered, but thoughts of her mother in pain drew her past her long-held dread of hospitals. The too-familiar nausea and fear gripped her with their icy fingers.

Stop. Stop! Your father needs you.

She pressed her fingertips to her forehead just as she heard her father’s voice coming from one of the cubicles. She followed it, slipping past the curtain and stopping at the scene in front of her.

Gracie sat on the bed, and Eli, wearing a white lab coat over his shirt and blue jeans, was bent over her, shining a light in her eyes as her father held her still.

Her father looked up as she came in and gave her a wan smile.

“Where’s Mom?” Rachel gave him a hug and glanced at Gracie, who twisted her head around to see who was here.

“Easy, Gracie.” Eli’s quiet voice drew the child’s attention back to him, and she reached out for the stethoscope that hung around his neck as he finished his examination.

“Let’s have a look here.”

“Mom’s in surgery right now,” her father said. “It was a bad break and they’re not sure they can do what they need to here.” He blew out a breath and wiped his shining forehead with a hanky.

“How did it happen?” Rachel struggled not to sway.

Don’t faint. Not in front of the cowboy. Dad needs you.

“She was carrying Gracie down the stairs, lost her balance and twisted to break her fall. She caught her leg in one of the uprights on the staircase.”

“How is Gracie?” Rachel studied the girl who, at first glance, seemed okay.

“So far so good. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.” Eli snapped the light off and dropped it into a pocket of his lab coat. A light frown creased his forehead as his eyes took in Rachel. “You’re a little pale.”

“Rachel dislikes hospitals. She spent—”

“Do you know exactly what kind of break mom had?” Rachel felt rude interrupting her father like that, but Eli Cavanaugh didn’t need to know her personal history.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” said Eli. “But I can go find out.”

“Could you? Please?” Rachel gave him a careful smile and was surprised to see him return it. In spite of her surroundings, she felt it again, that little frisson of awareness. A sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“I’ll be right back.” He touched Gracie on the nose and left.

The hiss of oxygen from a cubicle beside them, the rattle of carts and gurneys slipped into her consciousness, pulling memories along with them. She sucked in a breath, and another, fighting the light-headed feeling that threatened to overwhelm her.

Her father was wrong. She didn’t dislike hospitals. She despised them. They held out the offer of hope, but really despair walked their halls. And now her mother was upstairs. How badly was she really hurt? What would happen to her?

“Here, honey. Sit down.” Her father took her by the arm and sat her in the only chair in the curtained-off cubicle.

“Eli was right. You look very pale.”

Rachel shook off her growing panic. “I’m okay, Dad.” Though, the way the room tilted around her gave lie to her protest.

After a few long slow breaths, she was standing up and in control again.

“Go down. Down,” Gracie insisted, holding out her hands to her father.

“Can you take her, Rachel?” Charles asked, steadying Gracie, who was trying to wriggle off the bed.

Rachel was surprised to see her usually jovial father looking drawn. Then she glanced in the direction he was looking and saw Eli swishing the curtains aside, followed by another doctor. She hadn’t heard either of them coming down the hall.

She glanced at Gracie, bit her lip and then, carefully, picked the child up off the bed, not sure if she was holding her right.

“I’ve got news. I’m afraid it isn’t good,” Eli said.

The serious tone of his voice quashed the faint wall Rachel had erected against her fear. He was bringing bad news. How could he?

“This is Dr. Mendoza. He can tell you more,” Eli said.

In spite of Dr. Mendoza’s smile, Rachel could see that he had his “professional” face intact, and her dread grew.

“We just got the results of your wife’s X rays back.” His almost black eyes took them both in, compassion in their depths. “She sustained a very serious fracture of the femur, complicated by what looks to be an older fracture farther up the bone. We want to talk about airlifting her to New York to be operated on there by an orthopedic specialist.”

“New York?” Charles reached blindly behind him as if to steady himself.

Rachel, still holding Gracie with one hand, caught him and slowly pushed him toward the chair she had just vacated.

In the process Gracie overbalanced backward, her arms flailing. Rachel tried to grab her, but Eli was right there, catching the toddler just before she fell, settling her back in Rachel’s arms.

“Thank you,” Rachel said, feeling woefully inadequate. She couldn’t even hold the child without almost dropping her.

“She does tend to be a bit restless,” Eli said quietly, his hand still on Gracie’s shoulders. “It’s the C.P. that causes the sudden unexpected movements.”

Rachel’s stomach fluttered and, to her shame, she felt dizzy again.

“Can you please take her,” Rachel asked, thrusting Gracie toward Eli before she fell, still holding the squirming child.

Eli gave her a questioning glance, but took Gracie, easily swinging her into his arms.

Rachel looked away, pulling in another long, slow breath as she moved past her father to lean against the bed before she turned back to Dr. Mendoza. “I’m sorry. You were telling us about my mother. What are her chances for a full recovery?”

He slipped his hands in the pockets of his lab coat, rocking lightly on his heels. “They are excellent. What slows it down is the intensive rehabilitation she will have to undergo. There’s a facility connected to the hospital in upstate New York that specializes in orthopedics and will be taking care of her.”

“When will she have to leave?” Rachel asked.

“We are setting up the transfer right now.”

So soon, Rachel thought, still unable to process the fact that her always capable mother was disabled. But like a drowning swimmer, she clung to what the doctor told her. Doctors didn’t use words like “excellent” unless there was a very good chance the patient would be all right.

“How long will she be there?” Charles asked.

“Approximately three to four weeks, which is contingent on how well she heals and how well the femur and surrounding tissue respond to therapy.”

“That long.” Charles slumped back, rubbing his chin with his hand, looking lost and forlorn.

He glanced up at Rachel, and she caught his hand in hers, her heart stuttering at the thought of her always strong and capable mother, helpless and in pain.

“I can’t be apart from her that long,” he said quietly.

“I know, Daddy.” She squeezed his hand. “Is there a way he could go upstate and stay with her, Dr. Mendoza?”

“Of course. This institute gets people coming in from all over the United States. There are facilities where your father could stay. It would probably be better for your mother if he did.”

“And what about Gracie?” Charles asked.

Dr. Mendoza looked over at Eli. “I think Dr. Cavanaugh can answer the rest of your questions. I must return to your wife and prepare her transfer.” He shook Charles’s hand, then Rachel’s. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news, but at the same time, we can be thankful that she didn’t injure herself worse.”

“Thank the good Lord, no,” Charles agreed, but Rachel could hear his heart wasn’t in the pronouncement.

“Can we take Gracie along?” Charles asked Eli as Dr. Mendoza left.

Eli shook his head. “I think it would be best if she stayed here.” Eli glanced at Rachel, then back at Charles. “Beatrice is going to need your full attention if you want to help her, and it wouldn’t be good for Gracie’s health to get moved around that much.”

Charles nodded, releasing Rachel’s hand. He pressed his hands against his knees and, like an elderly man with too many worries pressing down on his shoulders, slowly got to his feet.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to make a decision about our little girl.” He passed his hand over his balding head and gave Rachel a careful smile.

“Rachel, honey. Would you be able to take care of Gracie?”