More Than Great Riches (9 page)

 Tracy gave him a grateful smile. He felt that smile all the way down to his boots.

Thanks for the millionth time, Leif. Maggie will pick me up after work. I won’t need taxi
service much longer.

Leif felt a jab of regret—not because that would reduce his chances of keeping an official
eye on her, but because driving Tracy anywhere brightened his day. You know you’re always
welcome.

By the way, she teased, if you’re considering a career change, you can give Yellow Cab my
name as a reference.

You’re so kind, he retorted as she climbed down from her seat. I’ll see you Tuesday.

He waited as she disappeared into the restaurant. He was a coward. He couldn’t bring
himself to tell Tracy that he turned down the court’s request to act as Jeff Dixon’s
guardian ad litem. Of course, he didn’t really know Tracy then. He had just met her, but
he felt he was too personally involved with the family. Conducting a fair and impartial
investigation wasn’t possible. Based on hard cold facts, along with the rumors that
circulated around her, how could he recommend her to the court?

So, Judge Whitby had taken on the job. The judge would have to be the one to shoot down
her hopes.

 Tracy Dixon, he thought, you’ve got me going in circles. I want to believe in you. Are
you really an angel or just the best actress in Plymouth County?

Tracy hesitated on the doorstep of Keith’s office. Maggie dropped her off, but she would
be back as soon as she filled her gas tank. If Tracy was in luck today, Keith would be out
of the office. She had grown tired of fending off his amorous advances. She wanted to
leave Jeff’s auto insurance policy with his secretary and make a fast getaway.

She rang the bell and pulled the door open at the sound of the buzzer. Miss Collins sat at
her desk busily typing on her computer. There was no sign of her boss.

Hallelujah.
Tracy gave the secretary a cheerful grin as she laid the insurance policy on her desk.
These papers are for Mr. Bradford.

Oh, Miss Dixon, let me tell him you’re here.

No, no, that’s not necessary. Tracy backed away. Just be sure that he ...

She stopped in mid-sentence as the door to Keith’s inner office swung open. She recognized
the attractive woman who emerged - Keith’s wife, Louise, with Keith right behind her.

Mrs. Bradford’s face was on fire. Do you ever stop to consider the consequences of your
flirtations? she snapped at Keith in an angry whisper. Do you think you can win reelection
if Senator Morris finds you’ve been making eyes at his wife?

Now, Louise that was just a little harmless fun. Keith whined like a child who had to put
away his toys.

Tracy stood frozen, embarrassed to be eavesdropping on a family squabble. But the quarrel
came to a sudden halt as they noticed her presence. Their whole demeanor underwent a
dramatic transformation.

Keith put on his dedicated attorney face. Tracy, I didn’t realize you were here. I think
you know my wife, Louise.

Somehow Tracy dredged up a response. Yes, but we’ve never been formally introduced. It’s
nice to meet you, Mrs. Bradford.

It was obvious that Louise Bradford was a politician’s daughter. No one would guess that
she had just been launching a tirade at her wayward husband. She gave Tracy a radiant
smile and took her hand. Oh, you’re the girl with the beautiful voice. I can’t tell you
how much I enjoyed your song on Easter. Reverend Edwards should insist that you sing a
solo every Sunday.

Thank you. You’re very kind. Tracy felt as though she had stumbled into No Man’s Land,
caught between two battling armies. She only hoped to make a graceful exit.

I’m sorry that I have to run, but my friend is waiting for me. Keith, I left Jeff’s
insurance policy with Miss Collins.

Good, wonderful! he exclaimed, as though she had just reported some marvelous
accomplishment. I’ll get right on it.

Goodbye for now. She tried not to break into a run as she headed for the door.

Maggie waved to her from the cab of the old pickup parked at the curb. Tracy strolled down
the walk with all the dignity she could muster. Did Louise Bradford know that Keith had
once been her fiancé? She hoped Louise never discovered that Keith had been forcing his
attentions on her. Mrs. Bradford would never want to hear her sing another note in church
again.

****

Jeff’s condition seemed unchanged as Tracy and Leif stood gazing through the glass wall
into his sterile prison. Tracy studied Jeff’s face. Had the swelling lessened just a bit,
or was she seeing what she wanted to see instead of reality?

Oh, Jeff, open your eyes or say something.
A single tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She reached for Leif’s hand. In spite of all
her good intentions, she needed his strength. She couldn’t see any sign of improvement.

But Dr. Burrows was smiling as he joined them at the window. Tracy dashed away the tear.
Please have some good news.

Miss Dixon, I’m very encouraged about your brother’s progress. As you know we’ve done
extensive skin grafts—his back, his legs, his arm, and his hands. We were able to use skin
from his scalp and other areas that weren’t damaged. It appears that at least ninety
percent of the skin grafts have adhered.

Tracy’s spirits soared. Oh, bless you, doctor. That’s wonderful.

We’re still keeping him in a coma, but he seems a little more responsive now. The next
step is to take him to the tank to remove the burned tissue. That will promote the healing.

Tracy was sure she must be glowing like a candle.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you
.

Leif squeezed her hand. He looked as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders. He
kept his feelings to himself, but Tracy suspected that inside he was suffering as much as
she was.

She held tight to his hand as they stood in silence, just watching Jeff’s immobile figure.
Finally—a ray of hope. The first good news they had heard since the accident.

She was floating on a cloud as they returned to Leif’s car. I needed to hear that. Her joy
bubbled over. Even though we both felt God told us Jeff would be all right, I was getting
so discouraged.

Leif nodded agreement. It’s hard to wait for an answer to prayer.

The sky was overcast with dull gray clouds hanging low on the horizon, but the world was
beautiful. Tracy hummed a hymn to herself as they started the trip back to Allerton, O
What A Wonderful, Wonderful Day.

Go ahead and sing it out loud, he urged.

She burst into full voice, putting her whole heart into the song. It expressed everything
she was feeling. Shadows dispelling, with joy I am telling, He made all the darkness
depart.

Leif watched her with an amused smile. You really love music.

She didn’t have to mull over her answer. Music makes me feel closer to God.

So are you going to organize the handbell choir?

I couldn’t resist. The church council gave me permission to order everything I need— some
simple music, mallets, gloves for the ringers. Some of the ladies are going to make pads
for the tables. And four people had already volunteered to ring before I made up my mind
to do it.

He laughed. That sounds like an ambitious project. Can you handle all that?

She was probably out of her mind to take on a bell choir, but she was looking forward to
it. If I don’t keep my mind occupied, I just sit and worry about Jeff.

Where did you learn to play bells?

Tracy suspected Leif might be asking questions just to be polite, but he seemed genuinely
interested. My church in New York had a handbell choir, and I fell in love with ringing.

How many ringers do you need?

Thirteen or fourteen people can usually handle five octaves of bells. She eyed his broad
shoulders and muscular arms. You know I could use a couple of husky men for the biggest
bells. How about giving it a try?

Leif looked startled. I don’t read music very well, he confessed. I learn my part in the
choir anthems by ear.

Not to worry. I know a way to make it easy for you to read the notes you’d be playing.

Maybe I could work it into my schedule. He was definitely hedging.

Nag, nag. Tracy felt as pushy as a snake oil salesman, but she really needed some serious
muscle in the group. The big bells got awfully heavy after an hour of rehearsal. We’ll be
practicing the bells while Mark and Luke are at youth choir rehearsal. You’re usually at
church then anyway.

I’ll think about it, he grunted.

Suddenly, without warning, Leif slammed on the brakes. Tracy’s head snapped forward as she
was thrown against her seat belt. Stunned, she turned to stare at him.

His eyes were fixed on a spot off the road in the trees at the foot of an embankment. She
turned her head. She could see it too—the rear bumper of a car, barely visible in the
underbrush. A car had swerved off the road, swallowed up by the trees.

He was already halfway out the door. I need to check this out, he called over his
shoulder, running and sliding down the embankment.

On the edge of her seat she watched as Leif disappeared into the woods. Drawing a deep
breath, she felt a sudden jab of pain in her side. The seat belt had probably saved her
from being thrown through the windshield, but it clamped around her ribs like a vise.

In minutes Leif raced back up the slope, unmindful of his bad leg. He snatched up his cell
phone and punched in 911. She trembled with tension, but he was as calm and unemotional as
if he were ordering groceries.

 Send troopers and an ambulance to southbound I-495, just south of Route 24. Car off the
road in the trees. Woman unconscious at the wheel. Baby crying somewhere in the car. We’ll
need the jaws of life.

When the dispatcher had all the information, Leif rushed to the back of the SUV and pulled
out a tire iron. Instantly he skidded back down the embankment.

Tracy sat dazed for a moment and then Leif’s words began to sink in.
A baby. A baby!
She shoved the door open. Jumping to the ground, she raced down the slope behind him.

The hood of the sedan was folded in like an accordion against the trunk of a huge oak
tree. She could see the unconscious woman wedged behind the steering wheel. Her face had
been burned from the explosion of the airbag, but that may have saved her life. Faintly
Tracy heard the frantic cries of an infant. But where was the child?

Leif tried to force a door open. The crash had bent the frame of the car. The doors were
all jammed tight. It would take more than a tire iron to pry open one of the doors.

Desperate, she peered through the window. Where was that baby? Where were the muffled
cries coming from?

Stand back, Leif ordered. I’m going to break a window.

She backed off a few steps as he swung the tire iron against the window behind the driver.
The glass became a spider web of cracks. With several more heavy blows, he cleared the
window frame of shattered fragments.

 Now she could clearly hear the baby’s hysterical screams. Each shriek felt like a knife
in her heart. She whispered a prayer. Please let it be fear, not pain.

The impact of the crash forced the back seat of the car forward and tipped it downward.
The baby seat had been pushed down almost out of sight against the back of the front seat.
The child was trapped in his seat head down.

She felt Leif’s gaze. There was a question in his eyes. Tracy, I’m too heavy. If I climb
in there, I’m going to crush that baby. If I lift you through the window, can you crawl in
and try to get him out.

Too breathless to speak, Tracy nodded. He reached through the broken window, trying to
brush away the scattered glass. He cupped his hands to give her a step up. Watch out for
those splinters.

But avoiding the splinters of glass was impossible. The sharp fragments were like needles
pricking her palms and her knees as she crawled cautiously over the back of the crumpled
rear seat.

Could she get close enough to un-strap the baby from his car seat without jamming it down
even further? His little feet were kicking frantically at the air. So far, there were no
signs of blood.

She stretched out flat to distribute her weight. Gently she petted the child’s foot.
There, there, little guy. We’re going to get you out of here, she soothed. The terrified
screams eased into whimpering sobs.

She squeezed a hand down into the narrow space, groping to find the release for the straps
that trapped the little one in place. Flying blind, she relied on her sense of touch.

It’ll be OK. It’ll be OK. She tried not to let her frustration show in her voice.

She gasped in triumph as her fingers closed around the plastic buckle. Sobbing and
hiccupping, the baby clutched at her arm as she found the release button. And then a
snapping sound told her the straps had released.
Thank you, Lord
.

Now, honey, I’m going to pull you out. I’ll try not to hurt you, she explained. The infant
didn’t understand her words, but he seemed to understand her tone of voice.

Sliding her hands down again, she managed to grasp his arms.
Patience. Patience. Patience
. She edged him out of his seat and slowly began to lift him.
Careful. Careful. Careful
. A snag could tear his tender skin like a knife. He was heavy for such a little guy, but
nothing stood in her way now.

At last, like a cork coming out of a bottle, he popped free. He continued to sob and
whimper, but it was weariness not panic in his voice. Arms trembling from the strain,
Tracy cuddled him as best she could in her awkward position.

Framed by the broken window, Leif watched her every move. Great, Tracy. Perfect. He thrust
his arms into the car. Can you pass him to me?

She managed to wriggle her way close to the window. Tears of relief rolled down her cheeks
as Leif took the baby and carried him to a mossy spot on the ground. She barely had the
energy to lift her head when Leif came back to the window to help her climb down.

She wanted to rest, but the baby started screaming again, frightened at being left alone.
She dropped down on the ground and swept him into her arms. Cuddling and rocking him, she
quieted his cries.

With his head inside the back window, Leif checked on the baby’s mother.

How is she? Tracy worried.

She’s still unconscious, but I checked her carotid artery. She’s got a strong pulse. We
just have to hope there’s no internal bleeding. Is the little guy OK?

The baby was almost completely covered by his blue bunny pajamas, but Tracy checked for
any signs of cuts or bleeding. He watched her with big, solemn, dark eyes. His breath came
in deep, heavy gasps, but miraculously he appeared to be uninjured.

Tracy had to smile. You’re going to be a lady killer with those eyes, she told him.

Probably only ten minutes passed, but it seemed like hours before they heard the wail of
sirens. The chill in the air began to penetrate Tracy’s thin blouse. Hugging the baby
close to keep him warm, she tried to stay out of the way of the horde of state troopers
and paramedics who swarmed over the car. Leif worked with them as they struggled to force
the car door open and free the woman.

There were grunts of triumph as the door gave way. As the paramedics eased the woman out
of the car, she began to regain consciousness. Her eyes frantically searched the scene.
Michael. Baby, she whispered.