Until I Found You (20 page)

He trotted down the stairs to the living room. Dody was on the couch, her neck bent and her hands pressed to her cheeks. Either she was crying or about to faint. To avoid startling her, he slowed his pace as he approached. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better.”

He set the gym bag on the floor, swallowed hard, and purged the impatience from his voice. “Do you want more juice?”

“Yes, please.”

He fetched the juice and brought it to her. She sipped, then gave a painful shake of her head. “Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart, I tell you.”

“No.”

“Go on to the hospital. I’ll be fine. Just call as soon as you know something.”

As much as he wanted to race out the door, he couldn’t leave Dody to drive home alone when she was pale and shaking. She occasionally spent the night. Maybe this was one of those times. “Are you staying here?”

“No. I want my own bed.”

“How about I drive you?” Never mind the ticking clock in his head. If Kate were here, she’d do the same thing.

Dody considered for a moment. “I’ll drive myself, but would you mind following me? I’d feel a lot better.”

“No problem.”

She wobbled to her feet, carried the juice glass into the kitchen, rinsed it and put it in the dishwasher. Hoping to hurry her along, Nick fetched her coat and held it out, silently willing her to punch into the sleeves. Instead, she eased into the jacket, wiggled her shoulders to make it fit, then worked the zipper at an inchworm pace. By the time she put on her gloves and scarf, turned off the lights and locked the door, his jaw throbbed from gritting his teeth.

Finally they made it to her car. She’d just plopped on the driver’s seat when she clapped a hand to her cheek. “Oh, I forgot something—”

“Stay here. I’ll get it.”

“Never mind. I was going to give you Leona’s prescription bottles. Kate knows what they are.”

Before Dody remembered something else, Nick closed her car door and climbed into his truck. Her house was only a couple miles away but in the opposite direction of the interstate. He followed her at what seemed like a crawl, walked her to her door, then shot out of Meadows.

He knew every inch of San Miguel Canyon and took it like a NASCAR pro. In places he crossed the double yellow line
for a tighter turn, but only when he could see ahead and knew the maneuver was safe. A full hour had passed. Kate needed him, and he couldn’t even call because he had her phone.

“Why?” he muttered to God. “Why let all this happen now? She’s a brand-new Christian. Don’t you know how fragile she is? She needs me.”

A whisper of conscience told him to slow down. Ignoring it, he sped around a turn with squealing tires, saw the taillights of a slow-moving sedan, and braked to a crawl. The speedometer confirmed what his instincts told him. The sedan was rolling along at . . .

Twelve. Miles. An. Hour.

Fist clenched, he pounded the steering wheel. There was no way around the car until San Miguel Highway straightened through Decker Valley, five miles away. Nick did the math and groaned. Four miles meant a twenty-minute delay. Not only was he worried about Kate, he was worried that
she’d
be worried about him. He tried to pray, even for the driver of the sedan, but he could only mutter, “
Please-please-please”
while he fought four-letter words and pounded the steering wheel a second time.

Nineteen minutes later, he gunned the truck and passed the sedan. Free at last, he raced through Decker Valley, reached the interstate in record time, and merged across four lanes of light traffic. The speed limit was fifty-five, but everyone drove at least seventy. Nick hit the fast lane going seventy-five. With no one in front of him, he increased the speed to eighty, then eighty-five. On a downhill slope, the speedometer shot past ninety and topped a hundred.

Amber lights exploded in his rearview mirror. His foot flew off the accelerator but not before a siren wailed for him to pull over. He was busted—big time. And at this speed, he could be charged with reckless driving. At best he’d receive
a ticket with a huge fine. At worst, the highway patrol officer would haul him off to jail and impound the truck. What a fool he’d been. What a complete, prideful, arrogant fool. Disgusted with himself, he coasted to the side of the road and pounded the steering wheel for the third and final time that night.

K
ate swayed with the helicopter,
fighting motion sickness as they zoomed through the starry night. In the distance she glimpsed the interstate slicing through the mountains. Nick would be on the highway soon, a comforting thought, but nothing could erase the fear beating in her brain as she stared at her grandmother’s pale face, slack-jawed after a shot of pain medication. The flight nurse said Leona was stable, but how could anyone be stable in this crazy world? Kate silently begged God to help her grandmother, but praying seemed useless. Where was He when Leona fell? If He didn’t help her then, why would He help her now?

God seemed a million miles away, but Kate recalled every detail of Nick guiding her through this awful night. With a little luck, he’d arrive at the hospital shortly after the helicopter. In the rush, she’d left her purse and phone in his truck. Until he found her, she’d be as isolated as a shooting star.

Swallowing hard, she stifled every emotion coursing through her veins. A meltdown wouldn’t help anyone, least of all herself. She’d have to deal with a runny nose and a lack of tissue. The triviality of the worry calmed her. She was a
competent adult, not a confused seven-year-old. She could handle whatever lay ahead, especially with Nick at her side to lend a hand.

After fifteen long minutes, the mountains gave way to a pool of city lights. The helicopter slowed again, hovered, then landed on the hospital roof. Unsteady and a little queasy, she stayed in her seat while the professionals took care of Leona. After the medical team rushed her away, a security officer helped Kate out of the chopper. She caught up to Leona, and a trauma elevator took them all to the ER, where Leona was whisked to a treatment room.

A nurse quizzed Kate about the fall and took a medical history, then a doctor arrived and performed an examination. Leona could move her fingers and toes, knew the president, was oriented to space and time, but her speech was slurred and difficult to understand. The physician ordered X rays and a CT scan. An admissions clerk took insurance information, and then an orderly wheeled Leona down the hall for tests.

More than an hour passed before a nurse directed Kate to the waiting room. “We’ll call you when we have the test results.”

Kate pushed through the double doors that led to a lounge crowded with people and green vinyl chairs. She had left word with the admitting clerk that Nick was family and could see Leona, but he must not have received the message. By now, he had to be worried. Nervous, she scanned the crowded room but didn’t see him. Maybe he was in the men’s room, or getting coffee from a vending machine. She could use a cup herself.

The adrenaline rush that started with Dody’s text message was long gone, and in its place was a bone-deep exhaustion caused by more than just tonight’s events. Kate was no stranger to death, loss, and the aching loneliness of being abandoned—albeit unwillingly.

Eager to find Nick and beginning to worry, she circled the entire lounge. The helicopter had left Meadows two hours ago. Even if he went back to Leona’s house or stopped for gas, he should have been here by now. Something had happened. Maybe a flat tire—the roads in Meadows were littered with sharp rocks. Or maybe the truck battery died. Things like that happened on cold nights.

When he didn’t come out of the men’s room after five minutes, Kate went to the window facing the parking lot. An orange-and-white ambulance swept into an arrival bay. Shuddering, she thought of other ambulances, other accidents, including the one that had killed her father and the one that almost killed her. What if Nick had misjudged the hanging hairpin and gone over the side? He could be hurt and bleeding, even dead, and no one would know. On New Year’s Eve drunk drivers were everywhere, including the interstate, where eighteen-wheelers rolled downhill like charging elephants.

“Stop it,” she ordered herself.

Without her purse, she didn’t have her cell phone or even a credit card for a pay phone. Did people still make collect calls? Could she reach an operator if she didn’t have change? Kate didn’t know but decided to try. Turning from the window, she spotted the security officer who had escorted her from the chopper and asked if there was a pay phone she could use for a collect call. He sympathized and gave her some change, then pointed to an alcove filled with half empty vending machines. She found the phone in the corner, punched in Nick’s number, and waited. There was no answer, only the inadequate comfort of his recorded voice telling her to leave a message.

“Hey, it’s me.” Her voice cracked, but she steadied it. “Where are you? Leona’s getting X rays. I’m in the waiting room. Find me, okay?”

She hung up clumsily and the handset clattered against the wooden shelf. She considered calling Dody collect, but she didn’t know her number by heart. Behind her a child shrieked that he wanted candy. The mom told him no, and he dissolved into an exhausted, uncontrollable tantrum.

Kate fled the alcove with her ears ringing. Her feet hurt and so did her throat. She wanted her purse, her phone, a change of clothes; but most of all, she wanted Nick to stride through the door and hold her and tell her everything would be all right. What could possibly be keeping him? She grabbed at possible explanations, but each one was more frightening than the last.

Awash in fresh trembling, she returned to the waiting room and hunted for an empty chair. She spotted one but veered away from it when a man ogled her legs. People of all sorts came and went. Some were bleeding and close to panic. Others were calm in a stone-like way. All around her people were afraid and suffering, talking on phones and holding one another. Everyone had someone to be with except her. Something horrible had happened to Nick. She was sure of it. “Please, God,” she whispered. “I need him.”

“Kate Darby?”

The female voice came from the entrance to the treatment area. Kate shot to her feet and hurried back through the double doors, where a woman in scrubs led her to an office with a computer monitor.

“Dr. Cole will be here in a minute,” the nurse said.

The single minute stretched into twenty. By the time Dr. Cole arrived, Kate had planned two funerals.

“Miss Darby?” he clarified.

“Yes.”

“I have your grandmother’s CT scan and X rays.” He pulled out a chair and sat. “The CT scan was negative. There’s no
new damage to her brain, though we can’t rule out a TIA. I assume you know what that is?”

“A ministroke.”

“Yes.” Pausing, he pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that she has a broken shoulder and four cracked ribs. I’ve referred her to ortho for a consult.”

Kate willed herself to sit straighter in the chair. “Will she need surgery?”

“That’s a question for her orthopedist.” Dr. Cole scrawled something on a slip of paper and handed it to her. “His name is Dr. Arbell.”

Without her purse, Kate had no place to put the paper. And without her phone, Dr. Arbell had no way to reach her. And without Nick, she had to—do what? Sleep in the ER? Call the highway patrol and ask if there had been an accident? Without Leona and Nick, she had no one. That wasn’t so bad—she was used to being by herself. What hurt so much now wasn’t being alone—it was expecting Nick to walk through the door and ending up frightened, phoneless, and stuck without resources. She was a helpless child again. Something she tried very hard never to be.

Dr. Cole broke into her thoughts. “We’re also concerned about the cracked ribs. Patients tend to take shallow breaths to avoid the pain, which can lead to pneumonia. Mrs. Darby came in with some bronchitis, so we’re doubly concerned. Considering everything, we’ve admitted her to the ICU. You can expect a few days here in the hospital, then a stint in rehab.”

She should have been prepared—would have been prepared if she hadn’t been so worried about Nick. But the news hit like a hammer blow. Not only was Leona suffering, but Kate now had another ball to keep in the air along with the ones
she was already juggling. Having Leona in a rehab facility would require hours and hours of her time. The closest facility to Meadows was fifty miles away. Every visit to Leona meant two hours in the car, two hours away from the
Clarion
and the Eve’s Garden proposal. Of course Nick would help—
Dear Lord, Where is he?

Dr. Cole closed the file. “Your grandmother’s in good hands. Why don’t you get some sleep and come back in the morning?”

But she had nowhere to go. No phone. No money. No credit card for the hotel across the street. Her anxiety hit like a rock on a windshield. With each jolt of bad news, the spidery cracks spread in out-of-control ways, growing longer and thicker until she couldn’t see past the disaster. Fighting panic, she thanked Dr. Cole in a tight voice and fled the office. With her hands buried in her coat pockets, she walked back down the corridor. Pausing at the door to the waiting room, she inhaled deeply to steady herself, threw back her shoulders, then pushed through the heavy doors to the waiting area. The crowd had thinned, but she didn’t see Nick anywhere. Her hope turned to dust, drying her throat and leaving her dizzy and sick.

“Kate!”
His voice.
He’d found her.

Whirling to her left, she ran to meet him in the middle of the room. With his tie loosened and the suit coat open and crooked, he pulled her into his arms and squeezed so hard she could have lifted her feet off the floor and not fallen. They stood that way for a long time—breathing in unison, drawing strength from each other, feeling safe again. The cracks in her heart didn’t disappear, but they stopped spreading. Questions and problems would come later, but for now, Kate and the people she loved were safe.