No Quarter Given (SSE 667) (17 page)

"Get to Dana," he ordered the other team hoarsely. "She's in shock and unconscious."

Griff stood helplessly by, watching the quick actions of the medical people. His heart leaped when the doctor with sandy-colored hair barked at his team to take Dana to ICU.

As he hurriedly followed them in, one nurse turned and held her hand out.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Turcotte, you can't come with us."

"But—"

"We'll take good care of her."

Frustration thrummed through Griff. "But she needs me!"

With a sad smile, the tall nurse said, "Of course, she does. But give Dr. Falk the time he needs. She appears anaphylactic and hypothermic. It will take at least an hour before we'll know anything. In the meantime, why don't you go to the third-floor ICU waiting room? We'll be in touch with you as soon as is humanly possible."

***

Angry and concerned, Griff paced the waiting room endlessly. Maggie and Molly arrived fifteen minutes later and he explained the situation. An hour went by. And then another. He badgered the nurse on the floor, trying to eke out some information on Dana's condition. Finally, toward the end of the second hour, an ICU nurse by the name of Bannister intercepted his pacing.

"Lieutenant Turcotte?"

Griff's head snapped up from its position against his chest. "Yes?"

"You brought Dana Coulter in. Is that correct?"

He studied the older woman. She had a pinched face, looking painfully prim and proper. "Yes, I did."

"Dr. Falk has her stabilized."

Griff saw Maggie and Molly come up beside him. "When may we see her?"

"Are any of you related to the patient?"

Frowning, Griff said, "No." He looked at the women. Both shook their heads.

"But we're Dana's closest friends," Molly pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Falk can only release information about Ms. Coulter's condition to her family."

Griff's anger got the better of him. "That's a bunch of bull! Dana's condition
is
my business, Ms. Bannister!"

Her brows dipped. "Her mother has been notified, I understand. Unless you're a member of the family, I can't allow you to see her."

Glancing quickly at the two women standing tensely beside him, Griff made a decision. In a low voice he snarled, "I'm her fiance." Dana would need someone when she woke up. He wanted to be there for her. Would her friends dispute his lie?

Maggie's eyes narrowed on him, speculative and assessing. Molly's widened with shock and her mouth dropped open. Griff gave a bare shake of his head.

"Well... uh, I'll have to tell Dr. Falk that. He'll have to decide."

"Do that." Griff stood, his hands tense on his hips as he watched the nurse walk back toward the ICU doors.

Maggie stepped up to him as soon as the nurse disappeared. "You aren't her fiance."

Griff felt heat crawling up his neck and into his face. He held her challenging green gaze. "No. But how else was one of us going to get in there to see how she is?"

Molly gripped Maggie's arm. "It's a good idea. Let him do it. I'm sure Dana will forgive him."

Griff sincerely hoped so. He saw Maggie's face soften. Molly's eyes were filled with understanding. What loyal friends Dana had. "Thanks," he whispered.

Minutes later, Falk came out. His face lined with worry, he managed a slight nod.

"I understand you're Ms. Coulter's fiance?"

"That's correct, Doctor. Tell me what the hell's going on. It's been two hours! How is she?"

Falk motioned him to sit down, but Griff refused. So did the women.

"She's hypothermic, Lieutenant. That means her temperature dropped below a survival level. When that happens, the body's organs hoard what heat is left. That's what has taken so long. We've had to slowly bring her back to a normal body-temperature level. Luckily, she's young and strong."

"Dana was in the water for twelve hours," Griff said, afraid of what else Falk might say. "When I got her out of the surf, she was unconscious. Is she awake now?"

"Not yet. That's part of hypothermia. The brain shuts down all but the most vital of systems in order to sustain organ life. I'm more concerned about the jellyfish venom in her bloodstream at this point."

"Is she allergic to it?" Maggie barged in, her hands on her hips, upset.

"If she wasn't, she is now. I've got her on anaphylactic drugs, combating her body's reaction to the venom. Her breathing is depressed, and we're monitoring her closely."

Griff's throat constricted. "You mean she could suffocate?"

Falk barely nodded his head. "It's possible."

Terror ate at Griff. "Well... how long before we know anything?"

"The next six hours will be the most critical."

"Oh, dear," Molly whispered, pressing her fingertips against her throat.

"Then I want to be with her," Griff said. "I don't want her going through this alone."

"She's unconscious."

"Dana will know I'm there." Griff dared the doctor to dispute his growling rejoinder. He took a huge risk. "I want a chair brought into her room. I'll stay there with her."

With a shrug, Falk slowly got to his feet. "She won't know you're there, Lieutenant. You'd be wiser to go home and get some sleep and call me in six hours."

Griff nearly cursed the doctor's lack of sensitivity. Instead, in a low voice, he stated, "I'll stay, Doctor. Just get me a chair, and I'll sit next to Dana's bed and hold her hand. She'll know I'm there."

"Whatever you want, Lieutenant."

"Wait. Couldn't Maggie or Molly stay with her, too? They're her best friends," Griff argued.

Falk shook his head. "Sorry, it's against hospital rules."

"Bastard," Maggie murmured softly under her breath when the doctor was out of earshot. She gave Griff a black look. "And you'd better treat her right or you'll answer to us."

Griff managed a strained smile. "Dana's in good hands."

Grudgingly, Maggie stepped aside so he could pass. "We're going to stick around, Lieutenant."

"Fine. Let me get situated in there with Dana, and then I'll come out and give you a report."

"Thank you," Molly whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Dana's gone through so much… We just don't want her to think she's alone."

He gave a jerky nod. "Yeah, I know." He was the bastard who'd made her life miserable.

***

The beeps and sighs of the equipment kept Griff on edge. Rubbing his burning, bloodshot eyes, he looked at his watch. It was eight o'clock, Saturday morning. His hand tightened protectively over Dana's limp fingers. Slowly, her skin was beginning to fill out again, losing its saltwater wrinkles. His gaze moved up her long, sculptured throat to her face. At least she'd lost that blue-gray pallor. For that, he was grateful. But in the past three hours, she hadn't regained consciousness, and that worried him. Was she simply sleeping? Or was she in a coma? No one could tell him for sure.

Stroking her thin fingers, he stared down at her. Dana was so small. Everything about her appeared fragile—from her heart-shaped face to her small, aristocratic nose and delicate lips. They had bathed her earlier, and her salt-stiffened black hair now lay slightly curled and clean around her skull. Griff thought she had the most beautifully shaped head. He didn't stop himself from gently running his hand across her thick, silky hair.

"Dana, it's Griff. Do you hear me? I know you can." His hand tightened around hers. "Listen to me. You're going to pull through this. I'm not going to let you go. You're safe now. And so is Vickie. She's gone home with her mother—" A lump formed in Griffs throat, and he halted, swallowing hard as he absorbed her serene features. "Sweetheart, you're something special. I don't know how you did it, being out there in that ocean for twelve hellish hours. I knew you wouldn't give up. I knew you wouldn't...."

The door to Dana's room quietly opened and closed. Griff looked over. It was Nurse Bannister.

"Lieutenant, Mrs. Coulter is on the phone at the desk, long-distance. She just got done talking to Dr. Falk. She'd like to speak to you."

Heat fled up into Griff's face. Dana's mother. Hesitantly he rose. "Okay…" Reluctantly, he released Dana's hand and halted a few steps from her bed.

"I'll stay with her," the nurse assured him in a low voice.

Maybe Bannister wasn't so bad, after all, Griff thought, giving her a weary smile meant to thank her. "I won't be long," he promised, and left.

Griff had been without sleep for over twenty-four hours. He was staggering when he walked. Stopping at the visitors' lounge, he didn't find Maggie or Molly. When he reached the nurses' station, the nurse on duty told him they'd gone down for coffee in the cafeteria. Griff picked up the receiver and stared at it. He didn't know what to say.

Finally he held it to his ear. "Mrs. Coulter? This is Lieutenant Griff Turcotte."

"Thank God, you came. This is Ann Coulter. I'm Dana's mother. They said you're her fiance. Dana never told me about you."

Stumbling, Griff said in a very low voice, hoping the nurse wasn't listening, "Well... it's been kind of recent, Mrs. Coulter...."

"Please call me Ann. How is she, Griff? Dr. Falk seemed so uncertain…"

Gripping the phone, he heard the terror in Ann's voice. He tried to tell her everything—and to reassure her. "Right now their biggest worry are the red welts from the jellyfish stings, Ann."

"Oh, God. Red welts?"

Griff nodded. "Yes." He heard Dana's mother begin to cry. "Mrs. Coulter? Ann, it's going to be okay. I know Dana will make it. She's tough. And she's got so much heart. Her best friends, Maggie and Molly, are here with her, too. They're down getting coffee right now, or I'd let you talk to them."

Sniffing, Ann whispered, "I'm so glad they're with Dana. Griff, has she told you about her father, Frank? About the welts he used to inflict on her?"

Griff froze. "Welts? What are you talking about?"

"Dana took so many beatings from my husband. I—I was afraid to leave Frank, and Dana was always protecting me from him. Even as a little seven-year-old, she'd stand between me and my husband, trying to help me, Griff...." Ann wept inconsolably.

A terrible, sinking feeling gripped his stomach. Griff shut his eyes tightly. He heard the guilt in Ann's voice; the anguish that again, her daughter was suffering.

"Look, it's different this time," he promised her hoarsely. "Dana saved a little girl from sure death. Something good came out of these welts. Come on, Ann, it's going to be okay. Dana's going to make it."
She has to!
Griffs mind whirled with old conversations he'd had with Dana, and he remembered her reactions to him, as a man. How awful he must have appeared to her. A brute bullying her around— just as her father had. With a groan, he buried his face in his hand, only now beginning to realize the full impact of his actions on Dana—on any possible future he wanted to pursue with her.

"Should I fly back to be with her, Griff?"

"I don't think so. The doctor has said she's in good condition, not critical." Then he tried to joke: "She has me."

"And for that, I'm so grateful. You sound so wonderful, Griff. Not at all like her father. Frank was a sick man. I—I finally got the courage to leave after he put her in the hospital when she was seventeen. If it hadn't been for Dana believing that we could make it on our own, I'd never have been free of him. Oh, God! I feel so horrible about all this."

Tears burned in Griffs eyes. He didn't try to hide them. He didn't care who saw them. "Look," he rasped, "Dana's in the best of hands down here. I'll take good care of her. I promise."

"She's so leery of men, Griff. You must be special. Frank instilled her with a fear of them. I'm sure she's told you about Jason Lombard and the way he used her. I felt so helpless then, listening to her cry over the phone after it happened. I—I just wished I could have prepared her better for the world—for men. But you sound so sensitive and wonderful. Knowing my daughter as I do, I think she probably was going to wait awhile longer before telling me about you. This time, she wanted to make sure."

Griff shut his eyes. "I can promise you one thing, Ann. I'll never make your daughter call you, crying."

"Bless you. Dana deserves some breaks. She worked so hard to get good grades at Annapolis, but so many of the men resented her. Once she wrote me a letter and said they all reminded her of her father. I'm so relieved that you were able to get through her defenses and prove there are good men, too."

Tears dribbled down Griff's face, catching in the bristly growth of his beard. "Let me get your number," he said hoarsely. "The minute Dana wakes up, I'll get back to you."

Chapter Nine

Dana felt as if she were coming out of a long, dark tunnel. She had little energy, and she shifted her limited focus to tactile sensations. Someone was holding her hand. It was a large, rough hand that continued to softly stroke the underside of her wrist. Tiny prickles moved up her arm, reminding her she was alive. Stretching her state of awareness, Dana was surprised she could feel her legs once again.

When the hand caressed the top of her head, Dana groggily realized she really was alive, and not dead, after all. The gesture sharply reminded her of the way her mother used to do that when Dana was sick, or had been hurt by her father. Relaxing beneath the gentle ministration, Dana absorbed the hesitant, trembling touch across her hair, relishing the sense of protection.

Gradually the tunnel lightened, and Dana forced her eyes open, looking up through her thick lashes. Her lips parted. It was Griff Turcotte sitting at her bedside, holding her hand and stroking her hair! Shock made her gasp.

Griff froze. "Dana?" His voice was hoarse. It was nearly ten in the morning. An hour ago, Falk had expressed his worry that Dana might have gone into a coma from the venom absorbed into her bloodstream.

It hurt to think, much less talk. Dana felt the warmth of Griff's hand, and a tremor passed through her.

"You're going to be okay," Griff told her, hearing the raw, undisguised emotion in his voice. He saw a spark of life in her barely opened blue eyes. "God, I was worried about you." Managing a sliver of a smile, he rasped, "You're one hell of a lady, do you know that? Vickie's fine. She's back home with her mother. It's you we're worried about. You took so many jellyfish stings. Maggie and Molly are waiting for you outside."