Читать книгу Adam's Promise - Gail Gaymer Martin - Страница 12

Kate’s limbs quaked waiting for the surgeon to break the silence. She was concerned that Gordon Reese hadn’t come to speak with the Montgomerys. He’d performed the surgery.

“Your son is in recovery, then he’ll be moved to ICU. The bullet entered below the fifth intercostal space, traversed his diaphragm and punctured his stomach. We were able to stop the bleeding and make the repair.”

“Why didn’t they know that in Venezuela?” Frank said, his voice rising in volume.

“If he’d been conscious, Dr. Reese would have realized earlier, but the concussion masked the additional problem. If your son had been alert, he would have experienced abdominal pain. Remember, he’d already suffered a collapsed lung. Dr. Reese inserted a chest tube that saved his life.”

Liza grasped Frank’s arm, hearing the surgeon’s words. For Kate, the reminder was more than she wanted.

“Let’s be grateful the team spotted the next problem early,” the doctor said. “They notified the hospital and we were ready when they arrived.”

Liza looked at the surgeon with pleading eyes. “Will he…will my son…?” Her voice quivered and she clutched her hands against her chest as if in prayer.

“He’s critical…but that’s to be expected. We’ll know for sure in a couple of days, but for now, I’d say he’s doing better than we could hope for. He was in good health before the accident, and I’m confident he’ll pull through this.”

Accident? Kate wanted to explain it wasn’t an accident but a horrible crime. She clamped her lips and swallowed the words. Explaining wasn’t her place. She was Adam’s co-worker. Nothing more.

“I thought Dr. Reese performed the surgery,” Kate said.

“We operated together. Gordon is exhausted. That’s why I came to talk with you.”

“I was on the plane with him. I know he’s worn-out.”

Kate was tired, too. Her thoughts soared back to the dispensary in Venezuela. She could see the blood seeping from Adam’s chest. She recalled the fear and anguish she felt seeing the handsome man slumped on the floor, seemingly lifeless. She blocked the ghastly vision.

“Is he conscious now? When can we see him?” Frank asked.

“They’ll let you know when you can go in,” the surgeon said, looking at Frank, then Liza. “Visiting will be limited until he’s in a regular room.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Liza said. Frank grasped his hand with a firm shake.

The surgeon stepped away. The Montgomerys seemed to relax and settled into their seats.

Kate’s heart ached but she managed to contain her concern. Adam hadn’t regained consciousness throughout the ordeal, and Kate knew what that meant. She leaned back, hoping to conceal her worry.

“What in the good earth is an intercoastal space?” Frank asked, looking at Kate. “It’s all a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.”

“Intercostal space,” Kate corrected. “It’s the space between the fifth and sixth rib. The bullet went through the chest and exited Adam’s back. The damage could have been much worse. We should be very grateful.” She realized too late she’d used the word we.

“Yes, indeed,” Liza said, her gaze searching Kate’s face as if mulling over what she’d said. She shifted her gaze toward her husband. “We should be on our knees thanking God and not complaining, Frank.”

Before any more was said, the ICU nurse arrived and beckoned his parents to follow.

Kate relaxed and watched them vanish through the doorway. She longed to be with them to see for herself that Adam was all right. She knew the physical signs and understood the monitor readings.

Her mind relived the fear she’d felt that day—the gunshots, her confusion, the dizzy fear that weakened her limbs, the panic she’d felt the moment she saw Adam bleeding on the floor. At that moment, she hadn’t had time to think about the why and who. She’d only had time to put pressure on the wound and do what she could to avoid shock from setting in.

But later, on the plane, she’d run the day over in her mind. Who would do this? Someone who’d been there, someone who knew where supplies were stored? Carmen? Señor Garcia? He’d been Adam’s last appointment, and he had a drug problem as well as alcohol. Everyone knew that. Her thoughts had struck a dead end, just as her life had seemed to now.

Instead of brooding, she rose and stretched her arms, trying to relieve the tension that knotted down her spine. She walked to the window and looked outside. The late-afternoon sun pressed against the pane, sending its heat through the glass. Kate looked beyond the familiar parking lot to the highway.

The shock of the past few days washed over her like icy water. Her whole life had changed in a few dreadful moments in Venezuela. She’d set her course and prepared for the dramatic move to Doctors Without Borders, subleased her apartment and sold her clunker in hopes of buying a new car when she returned from her year’s stint there.

So here she was now. No place to live. No car. No plans until she talked with the nursing director to see what they could do for her. Still, at the moment, all she wanted to do was see Adam, then sleep. She’d been without sleep for nearly two days. Her body trembled with fatigue and stress.

“Katherine.”

Kate lifted her head and saw Mrs. Montgomery approaching her.

“I’m sure you’d like to go in for a few minutes. Please go ahead. Frank is down getting us all some fresh coffee.”

Kate stood as Liza reached her. The woman grasped her fingers, her eyes dewy with tears.

“He looks a bit better,” she said. “He has a little color in his cheeks. He…” Her voice faded and she covered her face with her hands.

Kate longed to wrap her arms around the gentle woman, to give her comfort, something that would ease her anxiety. But something held her back. “He’ll be fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve prayed incessantly since this happened.”

Liza drew a shuddered breath and lifted her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry for crying. Adam’s our oldest. I can’t imagine—”

“It’s natural to cry and worry. I’ve done the same, and he’s just my colleague. My friend.” He was her friend in a strange sense. Despite his frequent uppity attitude, they’d lived in the same compound for the past months, shared the same food, laughed at the same jokes, struggled with the same crises. If that wasn’t friendship, she didn’t know what was. And if Kate were truthful, her heart had taken a strange turn when it came to Adam—a turn she hated to admit.

“You go ahead, dear,” Liza said, wiping her eyes with a pink lace-edged handkerchief. “I’ll be fine. Frank will be here in a moment.”

Kate gave the woman’s arm a squeeze, her own heart skipping with anticipation, and then she headed through the doorway and down the short corridor.

She pushed the large button on the wall, and the ICU door swished open. She moved past the monitors flashing the vital signs and data and entered the room, peering into cubicles until she saw him.

Kate froze, witnessing the strong, opinionated man, now unconscious. She preferred his attitude rather than seeing him like this. His face looked pale and unexpressive. Where was the color Liza had mentioned?

“Adam.” She neared his bed and stood beside his head, looking for a flicker of eyelashes or some sign of awareness.

She saw none.

“I miss your know-it-all comments, Adam. You’re not going to let a little bullet in the chest keep you down, are you?”

Kate moved her fingers forward and brushed one against his cheek. She’d never touched Adam so intimately until the day he had lain sprawled on the dispensary floor when she felt the prickle of whiskers on his cheek, whiskers now more pronounced.

The image sent a chill through her, and her heart pounded with angry thumps before settling down to a steady rhythm.

“Do you hear me, Adam? Come on. Wake up and give me some of your lip.” Lip. She eyed his well-formed mouth, recalling an occasional smile that lit his face…usually when he riled her. He seemed to enjoy setting her on edge.

Her gaze slid down the sheet, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest aided by a flow of oxygen. His hands lay limp at his sides, and she couldn’t resist raising one and giving it a squeeze, but she resisted the desire to draw it to her lips and kiss his talented fingers—fingers that held surgical instruments and changed lives.

As she returned his hand to his side, Kate leaned closer to his ear. “Adam. Where’s your spirit? Where’s your irritating arrogance? Wake up and let me see those lovely blue eyes.”

She pulled back, almost fearing he would open them, having heard her confession.

He didn’t.

Hearing the steady sizzle of oxygen and the beeps from the equipment behind her, Kate stood a moment, gazing at the powerful man now in God’s hands.

“Father, be with him,” she whispered. “Give him strength and healing so he can return to his lifesaving work…and, Lord, give me direction. I’m lost right now. I don’t know what will happen or where I’ll go. Give me courage. In Jesus’ precious name. Amen.”

Her gaze swept over Adam’s silent form, then feeling helpless, she turned and left the room. She pushed the button and walked into the corridor on wobbly legs.

From the waiting room doorway, she could see two others had joined the Montgomerys—a man about Adam’s height with dark blond hair and a woman with blond hair cut in a short, spunky style. From a distance, she could have been a young boy dressed in jeans and a knit shirt, but her shapely figure gave her away.

Kate hesitated joining them and lingered at the threshold until Liza’s voice greeted her.

“Katherine, come meet our children, and—” she lifted a cardboard cup in the air “—have your coffee while it’s hot.”

With her urging, Kate came forward, wondering what kind of impression she would make on these two people. She knew she looked awful with no sleep and no shower.

“Katherine Darling, this is our son, Jake, Adam’s younger brother, and our daughter, Colleen. She’s the baby of the family.” She smiled at Kate, then shifted her gaze to her children.

“Call me Kate,” she said, extending her hand.

“Katherine’s with Doctors Without Borders,” Liza said. “She’s the one who found Adam after he’d been shot.”

“So you’re the one,” Jake said, taking her hand in his. “Thank you.”

Kate saw the same blue eyes again. Looking at Colleen, she realized all of the children had their father’s eyes. “You’re welcome, but please don’t thank me. It’s all a blur. The experience unraveled me.”

“I’ve never known Adam to ever be ill,” Colleen said. “Growing up with two older brothers, I had to learn to fend for myself. I can’t picture Adam like this. Not at all.” She ran slender fingers through her thatch of hair.

Kate could envision Colleen joining in her brother’s fray. She looked as if the rough-and-tumble had rubbed off on her. Not that she wasn’t attractive, but she had a spirited way about her.

“I suppose we should get it over with,” Colleen said to her brother, giving him a playful punch in the arm. “Standing here is making the waiting worse.”

Jake linked his arm in hers. “Jut that chin out, sis. You can do it, and I’ll remember what you said when he’s back on his feet and you want to throttle him for something.”

Colleen chuckled, they turned away and headed for ICU.

Watching the Montgomery family’s support and concern sent loneliness through Kate’s body. She watched Jake and Colleen pass through the doorway, arm in arm. They had the kind of relationship she’d never had, being an only child.

The kind of close relationship she might never experience in her lifetime.

Bound in blackness, Adam struggled against the weight that anchored him to the shadowy void, a smoky, spiraling existence that held him fast.

Digging his nails into the darkness, he struggled to rise. An ebony cosmos swirled to gray, then purple to red. Orange and scarlet flames licked at his body, searing a hole through his chest. The pain writhed within him, but he dragged himself forward into the inferno for Kate. She’d called to him. He’d heard her voice.

Danger surrounded her as the blaze surged at her feet. His own scorched flesh reeked as he neared her. He called her name, but his parched throat and dried mouth turned his words to dust.

The fire became a whirlwind, like a dervish—yellow, coral and crimson—fading, vanishing into the abyss, taking Kate with it.

His charred body made a final grasp at nothing but darkness.

Kate watched the ICU door swing open as Adam’s brother and sister vanished inside.

Dizziness caught her off guard. She grabbed the arm of a chair to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Liza asked, shifting to Kate’s side. “You’re exhausted, I’m sure.” She patted the seat cushion. “Sit now and drink some of this coffee. Have you eaten?”

Eaten? Kate hadn’t eaten for hours. Food hadn’t crossed her mind.

“I’m just tired.”

“You should go home, dear. You need food and rest. Do you live in town?”

Her question dropped like a weight on Kate’s shoulders. “I did before I went to Venezuela. I sublet my apartment.”

“Sublet your apartment? Oh, dear.” She turned to her husband. “Did you hear that, Frank? The poor girl sublet her apartment.”

Kate tried to smile. “I thought it was a good idea at the time. I’d volunteered for a year, and I was being frugal. I even sold my car. It was a junker, and I figured…” She shrugged. “Now I don’t know what will happen. I’m not sure if I’ll be sent back or…”

Or what? Her future was hanging by a thread.

Kate realized she was foolish to sit there and wonder. She needed to act. “I’ll have to get a room somewhere until I know what’s happening.”

“Nonsense,” Liza said. “We’ll think of something.” She turned to her husband. “Won’t we, Frank?”

Adam’s father straightened. “Certainly. You saved our son’s life.” He glanced at his wife as if to make sure he was heading in the right direction. She gave him a subtle nod and smiled.

“The least we can do,” he continued, “is invite you to stay with us until you make other arrangements. We have plenty of room.”

“Too much room for the two of us,” Liza added. Then she wagged her finger at Kate. “And no disagreement now. You’ll go home with us.”

“Well, I…”

Kate’s voice faded when she saw Dr. Reese appear in the doorway. The Montgomerys rose, and Liza clutched her husband’s arm as if expecting the worst.

Gordon Reese shook his head. “He’s fine, stable, and I don’t expect a change until morning. I’d suggest you go home and get some rest. Sitting here won’t help Adam. If there’s a change, we’ll call you immediately, but I’m certain he’s going to be fine.” He gave Kate a nod.

Liza looked at her husband, her eyes seeming to question if they should listen to the doctor’s suggestion.

“You’ll call us?” Frank asked. “No funny business.”

Gordon Reese chuckled. “No funny business. We’ll call if there’s any change…good or bad.”

“Thank you. We’d appreciate that.”

“I told your son and daughter the same thing. They’re staying for a few minutes longer. They said they’ll see you back at your house.”

Frank extended his hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. Now get some rest. You, too, Kate,” he said, looking at her. “You’re all welcome to come back tomorrow morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Liza repeated. “Yes. That will be fine. Thank you.”

Gordon Reese backed away, and Kate watched him head through the door, feeling better having heard his prognosis.

The Montgomerys gathered up their belongings and ushered Kate out of the waiting room. Discomfort slowed her footsteps, discomfort and exhaustion. She had no business staying with the Montgomerys, but tonight she had no other options, especially when her mind felt knotted in a tight jumble like thread that had tangled and had been rewound on the spool, knots and all.

Outdoors, the early-evening air covered her with dry heat. She slid into the back seat of their sleek, black car and clung to the door handle to stay erect. If she leaned back, she knew she would fall asleep.

The downtown scene flashed past, familiar yet blurred by her weary eyes and her wavering thoughts. They passed the Broadmoor Hotel and sprawling homes that only peeked from behind lush landscaping. With Adam’s father being the mayor, Kate assumed they would live in a nice part of town, but this was more than she’d expected. She’d never seen the Colorado Springs mayor’s residence. She had no idea where it was located.

When the car slowed and turned, Kate willed her eyelids open and focused on the wide drive leading to an expanse of freshly cut lawn. Ahead sat a massive redbrick home with beige trim and brown shutters at the wide French pane windows.

How often had Adam visited this house? she wondered. What she did know was the family who lived here was far out of her league, just as Adam was. She’d admired Adam from afar—his talent, his generosity, his handsome frame, his sparkling blue eyes.

Afar was about as close as she would ever get.