Critical Care (35 page)

Claire hugged herself to still the shivers and tried to take stock.
Merlene put in a recommendation for her regarding the educator
position; she was on Claire's side. They had a new nurse in the ER,
so her obligation there had ended. The timing was right to move
ahead with the plans she'd made for herself. A clean break from
the painful confusion of these past weeks-past years. There was no reason Claire couldn't do that. It was what she'd wanted from
the beginning, wasn't it? The only difference now was that she'd
be doing it all by herself. I can do it.

If that was true, why did the thought make her feel so unbearably lonely?

"Where are you, Lord?"

"You look absolutely radiant, Sarah. But then, I heard you have a
special visitor."

Sarah smiled at Erin through a blur of tears. She might as well
get used to that; they just kept coming. "Yes. My father. He should
be back in a few minutes. He wanted to hunt down my favorite
ice cream-eggnog. I tried to tell him it wasn't going to be easy in
April. But right now I believe anything can happen. Did you hear
Logan sent the police to his shop?"

"I did," Erin said, a faraway look coming into her eyes for a
moment. "Our doctor's on quite the mission today." She pointed
at the hospital-issue Bible lying on the table next to a bandage roll
and a Diet Coke can. "And it looks like Chaplain Estes is thinking
along those same lines."

Sarah nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt for all the times she'd
passed on Erin's invitations to join Faith QD. "Even though I told
him I wasn't ready for that. Because I don't deserve. . . " She sighed.
"The truth is, I did some really bad things a few years ago. Hurt my
parents. You can't imagine how much. I've been so ashamed."

"You're not sure God's forgiven you?" Erin asked as she reached
for Sarah's hand.

A tear trickled alongside Sarah's nose. "I only know he's intent
on making me a complete crybaby." She squeezed Erin's fingers. "I'm not sure where I stand with God yet. But I hope you and
Logan and Claire and everyone can forgive me for the trouble I
caused. I'm so sorry."

"Now hold it. Listen to me." Erin leaned forward, her expression intent. "I'm the one who should be sorry. Me. I'm in charge of
that ER. It's my responsibility to look out for my staff. My friends,"
she added, her voice warm. "You're a coworker and a friend, Sarah.
And I should have noticed you needed help."

"Don't apologize." Sarah shook her head. "You've been great.
I'm a tough nut to crack."

"Still, I think I've let too many things outside of work distract
me. Stupid complications I've been trying to deal with."

"Like Brad?" Sarah asked, calculating by Erin's immediate frown
that she'd guessed right.

"Yes. You can't even imagine what problems he's causing. I'm
meeting him for lunch. Trust me, I'll be loaded for bear. But before
that, I have to finish straightening out my grandmother's credit
card account. I'm furious at the billing errors I'm finding. Like
eleven hundred dollars' worth of charges at some Nevada horse
farm? Can't wait to do battle on this one."

Sarah grinned. "Go get 'em, boss. I'll bet you've been blistering
that punching bag."

"Of course. And speaking of battles-" Erin lowered her voice"don't worry about your job. If the accident investigation creates
problems, we'll figure out a way to deal with it. And help you with
a plan for counseling if you need that, write letters of recommendation.... We'll make it all happen. A team effort. We're not letting
go of you."

Sarah lifted her chin and met Erin's gaze. "Don't bend any rules
for me. I want to do the right thing. Finally."

"I know you do, and I'm going to bounce some ideas around
with Logan when he gets back." She pulled at a strand of her ponytail, her expression troubled.

"Gets back?" Sarah asked.

"It's a long story." Erin glanced toward the nurses' station.
"And right now I see a man holding what looks like a big BaskinRobbins sack." She pretended to sniff the air. "I think I can smell
eggnog-you believe in miracles, girlfriend?"

Sarah smiled, her eyes misting yet again. "I'm starting to."

Claire finished towel drying her hair and ran a big-tooth comb
through it, deciding to let it dry naturally. She had nothing but
time today. Accent on nothing.

She frowned at herself in the bathroom mirror. No, she wasn't
going to think that way. She'd wallowed in self-pity all the way back
from Kevin's tree, half-jogging, half-walking ... mostly crying, and
marched straight through the cabin door to the vase of withering
daffodils. She'd tossed them out, along with the congealing mound
of treats in Smokey's untouched food dish. Then she'd showered
until the hot water-and her tears-finally ran out. Hope. When
had that pesky element crept in and become so important?

Claire set the comb down and turned away from the mirror,
not wanting to read the answer in her eyes. It all began with Logan.
It was time to get back on track. Back to the original plan.

She padded barefoot to the bedroom closet and pulled out a
long sweater, tugging it on over her jeans and T-shirt, and slipped
into her pink flip-flops. The sweater and a mug of tomato soup
would keep her warm while her hair dried and she worked on her
lists. In essence, she was right back to where she'd started a few weeks ago and hadn't really lost anything. "Only God and Logan
and my brother's cat," Claire muttered. She headed for the living
room, telling herself to get a grip.

The point was she'd still be waiting for the announcement of
the clinical educator job regardless of what happened in the past
few weeks. Even if she hadn't been blindsided by the ER and its
director. She'd hear the official word on Monday, and there was still
every reason to believe her original plan would be moving forward.
She'd had some distractions, sure. But she would put them aside
the same way she'd tossed away the wilted daffodils. It was good,
actually. Her mind could be clear now, focused on her future.

The phone rang and Claire's heart leaped to her throat. Loganit must be. Oh, thank you, God!

She caught it on the third ring, snatching the cordless phone
from its cradle and striding toward the fireplace. "Hello?"

"Claire? It's Merlene Hibbert."

"Um ... oh. Yes." Claire's legs weakened, first with disappointment, then with sinking dread. Another disaster in the ER? A complication with Sarah? "Is something wrong?"

There was silence, followed by Merlene's foreboding sigh.

Claire sank onto the ottoman, her hands beginning to tremble.

"I thought I should tell you before you heard it through the
grapevine," Merlene said. "The board has decided on Renee as
clinical educator. I tried to convince them to make it a flex position shared with you, but Renee wants her full-time hours back.
I'm sorry."

Claire stared at the phone, stunned for a moment. "But you
mean . . ." She gripped the phone until her knuckles went white,
struggling for words. Why was this happening?

Merlene cleared her throat. "Unfortunately, as of Monday we won't have a position in the ed department for you. Renee may
need you to help her for the next couple of weeks, but after that
I'm afraid Sierra Mercy can only offer clinical shifts. I know it's not
your first choice, but with Sarah Burke out, we'll have an opening
in the ER. That would have to be approved by Dr. Caldwell, of
course." She sighed. "Although I've just learned that he won't be
coming in for his shift tomorrow. Out of character for him, but if
he's back on Monday, I'll ask-"

"No." Claire rose, despite a crippling rush of dizziness. Logan's
staying in Carmel? "Don't. Please don't ask him. Dr. Caldwell
doesn't want me-I mean, I don't want . . ." Her voice faltered as
she battled tears. "I know you mean well, but please don't make
any plans for me. I need time to figure things out."

"Very well, but I want you to know I tried my best to get you
hired. Your effort on behalf of the ER staff during the day care incident was a godsend, and I have to wonder if you hadn't been there
for Sarah Burke, well ... you were clearly an answer to prayer."

Answer to prayer. "Oh, I . . ." Claire shut her eyes for moment,
trying to think of something to say, then turned toward a sound
in the kitchen. A scratching and a plaintive, hoarse ... meow? Was
that a meow? "Oh ... oh!" Claire's voice cracked with emotion as
she caught sight of Smokey at the pet door. "I have to go now. My
cat was lost, and he just came home!"

Twenty minutes later, after a can of tuna and a leisurely sniffing
tour of the cabin, Smokey was curled up in his favorite spot on
the back of the couch, dozing. Claire felt like she'd run a Denver
marathon. She was too exhausted for tears of happiness or disappointment. She was numb ... mostly just numb. She gingerly
stroked Smokey's back. Despite his matted tail, some missing fur on the top of his head, and a scabbing wound on his remaining
ear, her cat looked like a survivor.

A lump rose in Claire's throat. "You did it, boy. Who'd have
thought ... ?" She gazed toward the fireplace, then rose slowly and
quietly so she wouldn't disturb Smokey and walked over to stand
in front of the mantel.

She touched the frame of Kevin's photo, the one of him in the
silly Superman shirt, and shook her head. "He did it, Kev. Smokey
finally faced his raccoons. He went out there and squared off with
the one thing that scared him most in the entire world." She nodded. "Trust me, I know exactly how that feels, and-"

I do know. She stared at Smokey, her thoughts swirling aloud.
"My cat and his raccoons. Me and the ER-we both did it. We did
what we had to do, and it was okay. More than okay." I helped save
Sarah's life.

"We're winners, Kev. We're ... champs!" She grinned at her
brother's picture, noticing for the first time how happy he looked
in the photo. Completely full of joy. And then she noticed that her
chest didn't feel hollow anymore. For the first time since Kevin's
death, she was thinking of him and remembering him and not ...
hurting. How could that be?

Claire's gaze moved along the line of photos-Kevin; she and
Kevin with their parents; and the snapshot with Gayle in Mexico,
the one draped in the leather-strung cross she'd worn that first day
in urgent care. Crazy as it seemed, it was true; looking at the photos
wasn't painful. In fact, it made her happy and strangely peaceful
and warm. Clear down to her soul ... like that sensation she'd been
missing after running. Only better. Much better.

Goose bumps rose as she realized it went further than that.
Because the fact that she'd lost the job didn't feel all that bad now either. Even knowing that her carefully crafted plans for her
future ... Claire's breath caught as her gaze lingered on the last
frame in the row on the mantel. Gayle's hand-embroidered linen.
Her engagement gift to Kevin, his favorite Scripture.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,
"plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you
hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

Claire reread the words she'd lived with for two years, the same
verse carved by her brother's hand on the oak tree in Gold Bug
Park. She held her breath, the words leaping out at her like she was
seeing them for the very first time: To give you hope. And a future.
I have plans.

His plan. Claire raised her hands to her mouth, tears stinging
her eyes. Hope. By God's plan. The answer had been there all along.
Had been inches above her this morning when she'd cried out,
asking God, "Where are you?" God's plan, not Claire's plan. And
he had answered her prayer. Heal my heart. Move me forward. He'd
moved her forward by sending her back to the ER to face her fears.

"Oh, Father." Claire sank to her knees beside the hearth and
bowed her head, tears spilling down her face. "You had a plan for
me, and I got in the way. All I had to do was trust you. You are my
hope. I see that now. Thank you, Lord."