Читать книгу Forgotten Son - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 9

WHEN THEY REACHED the hospital, things happened fast. Reporters and TV crews were everywhere, with the police trying to push them back. Attendants whisked Caroline away, and above the noise Eli heard her call out to him.

He didn’t respond. She needed her family now—not him. Stepping out of the ambulance, he saw an orderly with a wheelchair. His first response was to object. Then he glanced at all the people clamoring to get a statement from him. He sank into the chair without protest, wanting to get away from the crowd as quickly as possible. Reporters were shouting questions at him and flashbulbs were going off, but he ignored them.

The orderly quickly took him to a bed in the emergency room. Eli stood and lay down there, feeling totally spent.

“The doctor will be in here shortly,” the attendant said.

“Thanks,” Eli replied, and stared up at the fluorescent ceiling lights. Had the arrest been made? He hoped this wouldn’t take long because he had to get out of here and give the FBI a full report. They had to know everything he’d learned as soon as possible. Where in the hell was the doctor?

A doctor who barely looked old enough to be playing in Little League came into the room. Eli knew he had to be much older, or at least hoped he was.

“I’m Dr. Fisher, Mr. Coltrane. I’m going to look at your arm.”

“Sure. Stitch it up or whatever you have to do because I have to go. I have an investigation to finish.”

“Yes. I heard,” the doctor said, unwrapping his arm.

“It’s been in the news all week and the hospital is inundated with reporters. Everyone is very relieved Ms. Whitten was found alive.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Eli watched as he examined his arm.

“How long is this going to take?”

The doctor made a grunting sound. “I’m not sure. I have to get a surgeon down here.”

“A surgeon! What the hell for?”

“Your arm needs special attention, Mr. Coltrane.”

“That’s why I’m here. Stitch the damn thing up so I can go.”

“It’s not just the skin that’s been damaged—muscles and nerves have been ripped apart and it will take a specialist to put it back together.”

That still didn’t deter Eli. “It can’t be that bad. See? I can move my hand.” He raised his arm—it was beginning to feel heavy—and moved his fingers.

“Look closely at your fingers,” the young doctor said patiently. “They’re starting to swell and so is your arm. With this type of injury, surgery needs to be done as soon as possible so you can maintain full mobility.”

“Are you saying if I don’t have the surgery, I’ll lose the function of my right hand?”

“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

There was silence as Eli battled with what he had to do and what he wanted to do.

“Surely you’re not thinking about not having the surgery?” The doctor was clearly shocked.

“How long will the operation take?” he asked instead of answering.

“The surgeon will be able to tell you that.”

“Well, get him in here. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Dr. Fisher gave a long sigh. “Mr. Coltrane, you’re not going anywhere for a while. It would be best for you if you started thinking in those terms.”

“And it would be best for you if you got the damn surgeon in here.”

The doctor was scribbling in a chart and he didn’t look up. “I’m attributing your bad attitude to the pain you’re in. I’ll have the nurse give you something.”

Eli took a deep breath. “I don’t want a damn thing for the pain. I just want to get this over with.”

“Yes. I think we’ve established that.” He closed the chart. “The surgeon will be in soon, Mr. Coltrane, so please try to relax.”

Dr. Fisher walked out and Eli knew he was being an ass, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been badly injured before and he wasn’t handling it well. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax as the doctor had suggested. This would be over in no time and he could finish the job he’d started. They had to have arrested Buford by now, and he wished someone would come and tell him how it went. He had to know Buford was in jail.

“Mr. Coltrane.”

Eli opened his eyes to see an older, bald-headed man reading his chart. “I’m Dr. Jim Stiles. I hear you’ve had an encounter with a mean dog.”

“Yes. You could say that.”

“Let me take a look.” He laid the chart down and moved to the right side of the bed, where he picked up Eli’s arm and examined it. “Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. A lot of damage has been done. We need to get you to surgery now before the swelling gets any worse. Has your wife been called?”

“I’m not married.”

“Family?”

“My brother’s working the same case that I was and he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“We have papers that need to be signed. Do you think you can sign them with your left hand?”

“I can sign them with my right,” Eli said.

The doctor stared directly at him. “Ranger Coltrane, I hear you’ve been giving the intern a hard time. But you and I are of the same caliber—tough, determined men—and if you want me to save that arm then you’ll have to cooperate. That’s the bottom line for me—cooperation. My time is too valuable to waste on a man who is too stubborn to realize he needs help.”

Eli didn’t waver under that intense gaze. “Dr. Stiles, I’ve always been a survivor and a fighter, and I learned discipline, respect and honor from a man I worshiped. He taught me how to take a punch like a man, how to give in without giving up, but he never taught me how to handle anything like this. So you’ll pardon me if I’m not on my best behavior.”

Dr. Stiles picked up the chart. “It’s all over the news that the Whitten woman was found alive by a Texas Ranger. Something the FBI hadn’t been able to do.”

“I was working with the FBI.”

“Don’t know how to take praise, either, do you?” The doctor scribbled something in the chart.

“Guess not.”

“Let’s go fix that arm so you can pin on that medal they’re going to give you.”

“Just do it as fast as you can.”

“I’ll do the best job I can in the amount of time it takes,” Dr. Stiles retorted.

“You don’t cooperate very well, do you, Doc?”

The doctor smiled. “I said I demand cooperation. I didn’t say I gave it. I’ll see you in surgery.”

After that Eli relaxed. He didn’t have much of a choice. They removed the rest of his clothes and gave him a hospital gown to wear. A nurse started an IV and he signed papers with his left hand, and another doctor came in to explain what was going to be done to his arm. Soon he was rolled to the operating room, where the anesthesiologist explained how he was going to put Eli to sleep.

Eli stared up at the bright lights, realizing he’d never felt so alone in his life. He had no family, what with Ma and Pa gone. It was just him and Tuck.

A man should have a family. He shouldn’t be alone. Where had that thought come from? He’d always been a loner. Maybe it was the drugs starting to flow through his system. Maybe it was his age. Maybe life had just caught up with him.

It would be nice to have someone here, though—someone to wake up to. Caroline’s face swam before him and he squeezed his eyes tight. No. He didn’t want to see her. Then he pictured Jake McCain. No. He didn’t want to see him, either. But Jake was his brother, his half brother. He was family. He was blood. No. Eli wasn’t a McCain. Joe McCain had denied his existence, and Eli would never admit that the man’s blood ran in his veins.

Never.

That thought lasted a second, then everything went black.

CAROLINE LAY QUIETLY as the doctors and nurses attended to her wounds. She wondered where her family was. Where was Colin? She felt so alone in this roomful of strangers. They quickly took her to a private room, and Caroline kept looking for her mother, father, Grace and Colin, but all she saw were people she didn’t know.

She had an IV in her arm because the doctor said she was dehydrated. They’d given her something for pain and she was beginning to feel woozy and disoriented. But she had to stay awake and find out how Eli was.

Her hands and feet were bandaged, and a nurse removed her clothes and helped her put on a hospital gown. After making sure she was comfortable, the woman left the room.

Caroline licked her dry lips as tears gathered in her eyes. She felt alone and abandoned and she wanted to touch Eli—to feel his strength. She didn’t even know him, yet she felt a connection she couldn’t explain.

Her eyes grew droopy and she forced them open. She wouldn’t close them. She never wanted to see darkness again—not ever. “Amazing grace” hovered at the back of her mind and she wanted to give in and sing to block everything out.

She heard voices in the hall and that weakness dissipated. Grace was here. She’d know her sister’s voice anywhere. The door burst opened and Grace ran in and grabbed her.

“Caro, Caro,” she cried, holding her tight. “Thank God you’re okay. Thank God you’re alive.”

“Yes. I’m very lucky.”

Grace drew back and brushed away a tear. The sisters looked very much alike, with the same blond hair and green eyes and body shape, except Grace wore her hair pulled back while Caroline’s was usually loose. Their personalities were so different, though, that people often said they didn’t resemble each other.

Caroline was soft and giving, but had an inner strength. Grace was studious, career driven and very much like their father, whom she spent most of her life trying to please. Caroline was just the opposite—needing to be on her own, needing to be her own person.

“My,” Grace said, “look at you. You have scratches on your face and arms, and the doctor said your hands and feet have bad lacerations.”

“They’ll heal.”

Grace frowned. “Couldn’t that Texas Ranger who found you have done more to keep you from getting hurt?”

“I’m alive,” Caroline stressed. “I’m alive. If not for him, I’d be dead.”

Grace shivered and ran her hands up her arms. “Don’t say that. We’ve been so worried and I—”

“Where’s Mom and Dad?” Caroline asked, before they both started bawling like babies.

“You know them. Dad’s giving a news conference and Mom is right beside him, as always. It makes good politics—gets the sympathy of the voters, and that’s top priority—the voter.”

Caroline heard the bitterness in her voice. “Do you think we’ll ever get past the resentment of not having normal parents?”

“Probably not.” Grace sat on the bed beside her. “But, you’re thirty and I’m twenty-nine so we should probably try.”

“Yeah,” Caroline answered quietly.

Grace rubbed Caroline’s arm. “Are you okay?”

She smiled at her sister. “Yes. I’m a little shaken still, but I’ll be fine.” She glanced at the door. “Where’s Colin? I thought he’d be here waiting for me. I’m anxious to see him.”

Grace looked away.

“Grace, where’s Colin?”

“He should be here soon.”

Grace was trying not to tell her something.

“Why isn’t he here now?”

“You know he had that new store opening in Houston.”

“Yes.”

“The opening was today.”

“And he went!” Caroline knew the answer before Grace spoke.

“Yes. We’d been waiting for days, and like I said, we were so worried. I think he just needed to do something. The wait was getting to all of us. Mom called him and he’s on his way back.”

“Oh. I guess that makes it all right then.” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice.

“Caro, please don’t—”

“I’m so tired.” Caroline cut her off. “I want to go to sleep, but I’m afraid to close my eyes. They kept me in a cellar with nothing but bread and water. There was no light.” She had to take a deep breath as the suffocating memory filled her. “I think I went insane for a while. I sang hymns and I want to start singing again. That way I can stay awake. I feel as if I’m losing it. I can’t…”

“Shh,” Grace murmured, stretching out beside her. “Remember when we were kids and I was afraid of the dark and I’d sneak past the nanny to sleep with you?”

“Yes.”

“Now I will protect you from the dark.” She snuggled against her. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ll be right here and I’ll leave all the lights on.”

“I don’t think I can sleep. I can still feel the terror of that room—of him.”

“Caroline, try to put it out of your mind.”

“I can’t. He picked me to be his seventh wife—to bear his seventh son. If he had touched me in that way, I would have died. I couldn’t have lived through that.”

“It’s over. Try to think of something pleasant.”

Eli was pleasant and nice and…

“Shut your eyes,” Grace coaxed. “I’ll be right here.”

“Sisters first,” Caroline mumbled, remembering a pact they’d made when they were nine and eight years old. Her eyes closed.

“Sisters first—always,” Grace echoed, as Caroline let go and drifted into a restless sleep.

She didn’t know how long she’d slept, but she woke up screaming. Grace quickly calmed her. “It’s all right. You’re in a hospital. It’s all right.”

“Oh, God,” Caroline whimpered, feeling the remnants of the nightmare about Amos Buford. “I could see him so clearly, as if he was in this room with me.”

“He’s not. I’m the only one here.”

Caroline scooted up in bed. “I can’t sleep. I just can’t.”

“Okay.” Grace pushed up beside her. “Then we’ll talk. There’s a new chick flick out—the mushy, happily ever after stuff that you love. We can go see it as soon as you feel up to it.”

“Okay,” Caroline mumbled.

“And, oh, there’s a new suit at that little dress shop we love. It’s a light mint-green with a lacy camisole. Absolutely fetching. I love it, but its kind of bright and I wanted to get your opinion. Tell you what, I’ll buy the suit and you pick out something equally charming and we’ll dress up and go out to a movie and dinner.”

Caroline rested her head on Grace’s shoulder, relaxing at her easy, nonsensical chatter. “Keep talking.”

“I was thinking about joining one of the fitness places for women. I don’t get much exercise and at my age I should start thinking about that. I hate getting all sweaty, though, and I haven’t figured out a way around that. Maybe you could join me and we…”

The thought of Grace exercising was hilarious—Caroline couldn’t even picture it. She’d join just to get a glimpse of her sister working out. Grace’s voice drummed on and Caroline smiled, letting go of the fear and easing into sleep once more.

CAROLINE AWOKE TO VOICES, familiar voices, and saw that her mother and father were in the room. Joanna was sitting in a chair talking on a cell phone and Stephen was pacing back and forth, talking on his own cell phone. Grace sat by Caroline’s bedside, holding her bandaged hand.

“You’re awake,” Grace said. “Feeling better?”

Caroline didn’t get a chance to answer as her mother jumped up and ran to her. “My baby, my baby,” she cooed, brushing back Caroline’s hair. “Don’t worry about a thing. You’re going to be fine. I’m making arrangements to fly you to Washington to a private clinic, where you’ll get special attention and a qualified therapist to help you deal with this.”

What was her mother talking about? She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Caroline.” Her father came to the bed. “You look much better. Agent Caufield is outside waiting to speak with you. You can handle it, right?”

He didn’t ask how she was, or if she was up to facing anyone. He wanted her to do it because he expected her to. Stephen Whitten’s daughters always did what was expected of them.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and winced.

“Stephen, I don’t think she can do this right now.” Her mother spoke up.

“Yes, I can. I want to tell them what happened.”

“See?” Stephen said. “She’s made of strong stuff.”

Her father opened the door and two men came in. Her father introduced them as Agents Tom Mercer and Bill Caufield. She remembered them from the road where the ambulance had picked her up. Tom sat and began to ask her questions. He took down her answers, recording everything she said about what had happened after the men took her from her apartment.

“That’s good, Ms. Whitten,” Tom said.

“Have they arrested him?”

“Yes. Amos Buford and his men are in jail. The women and children are in another location, and several agencies have been called in to help gather information. We’re hoping to place the children with relatives—we just have to locate them.”

“I hope Amos Buford won’t be able to do this to another woman.”

“Amos will not be on the outside for a while,” Bill promised.

“You make damn sure they put him away forever,” her father ordered.

“We’ll do our best, Congressman Whitten.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes your best isn’t good enough.”

“How is Eli?” Caroline asked, before her father could demean the agent more than he already had.

“He’s in surgery,” Tom answered, as Bill turned away.

“Surgery?” She sat up straight. “Oh, no.”

“The dog did some damage to his arm and a surgeon’s repairing it.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Now, Caroline,” Stephen interjected. “Don’t upset yourself. I’m sure the man will be fine.”

“Will Eli be okay?” She spoke to Tom, ignoring her father.

“The doctor is very confident, but Eli will be out of commission for a while, at least until his arm heals. I’m not sure who’s going to be brave enough to tell him that, though.”

Caroline smiled a tremulous smile. “No. He’s not going to take that well.” She could see his stubborn face, and it was so uncanny that she could do that. She felt she was never going to forget that face. They were two strangers, yet…

“I will be taking my daughter back to Washington,” her father was saying.

Tom’s lips tightened. “I know you want to do that, sir, but it would be best if Ms. Whitten stayed here awhile longer. The prosecutor will need her testimony to get an indictment.”

“That can be done from Washington. I’ll speak with the U.S. Attorney’s office.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dad,” she said, not able to let this go on any longer. “I’m staying here.”

“You need medical attention and—”

“I know what I need. I’m not a child.”

The room filled with a thick tension.

“We’ll check in later, Ms. Whitten,” Tom said. He and the other agent quickly left, but Caroline barely noticed. She was concentrating on her father’s anger, which she could feel sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

“This is just like you, isn’t it, Caroline,” Stephen charged. “Always needing to defy me. Do you even realize how worried your mother, Grace and I have been? We thought you were dead, killed by this insane cult leader. And now that you’re back we want to take care of you, but you’re throwing it all in our faces.”

“But you will not be taking care of me,” she pointed out, with as much calm as she could manage. “You’ll hire someone to do that, and I’d rather recuperate here close to Grace.”

“Maybe she’s right, Stephen,” Joanna said. “The girls have always been close.”

“Do you know what this is going to look like in the papers?” Stephen turned on Joanna.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well, you’d better. We have an election coming up.”

Caroline lay back on the pillows. It always came down to that—the next election, the votes. Nothing else mattered, not even their daughters’ health or happiness. She wished they’d go away and leave her alone. Loneliness was preferable to this.

The door opened and Colin rushed in. He went directly to Caroline. “You’re okay? I was so worried.” He kissed her cheek and she tried not to pull away.

“It’s awful big of you to show up, Colin,” her father said.

Her mother picked up her purse. “I think we need to leave the two of you alone. I’ll make arrangements for you to stay here if that’s what you wish. Your father and I will delay our plans until tomorrow. That will give you time to think about it.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“I’ll be outside,” Grace said.

Joanna and Grace kissed her and walked out. Stephen glanced at her briefly, then followed.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Colin said.

She took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t take much more that day. “I’m really tired and I just want to rest.”

“Sure. I understand. I’ll stay until you wake up.”

“No. I’d rather that you left.”

“Caroline…”

“How did the opening go?”

“Great. But I couldn’t concentrate on what had to be done for worrying about you.”

“Then why did you go?” Try as she might she was unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.

He touched her face. “Please don’t be angry. I just couldn’t sit around one more minute.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

Did he? She didn’t think so. He didn’t love her the way she wanted to be loved—completely and passionately, like Eli loved his Ginny. When he’d talked about her, Caroline had heard the love in his voice even after all the years she’d been dead. Colin and she didn’t have anything close to that.

She wanted to be the most important person in his life and she wasn’t. That’s what had bothered her about them getting married so soon. She wanted more than what she and Colin had. The ordeal she’d just been through proved that they didn’t have that special magic to make a marriage last forever. And she wanted that—one man, one marriage, forever.

“I left my ring in that room they kept me in,” she said, trying to think of something else.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll buy you another one.”

She didn’t have any strength left to deal with Colin and everything she was feeling about their relationship. She turned away. “I need to rest.”

“Sure. I’ll come back later.” He kissed her cheek, but she didn’t respond.

When he left, she began to cry. Tears ran down her cheeks to her neck and gown and she didn’t try to stop them. She cried for everything that had happened, for all the changes in her life and the changes that were to come.

And she cried for Eli.