Finding Jessie: A Mystery Romance (8 page)

“This is Nurse Nancy Williams at the emergency room of the St. Mary’s Hospital in Kellerville, New York.”

Sam grabbed an Esterbrook fountain pen from the bedside table and removed the cap. He grabbed a yellow legal tablet and put it in his lap. In lawyer mode, he wrote down the time of the call. Without knowing what was coming next, he wrote down the nurse’s name, the name of the hospital and the location.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news about a friend of yours.”

It’s Jessie!
whispered the angel on his shoulder, in case he wasn’t fully awake.

“Is this about Jessie?” he asked the nurse.

“Yes, did someone else call you?”

“No. Just a bad feeling. Is she all right?”

“Yes. Well, she’s going to be all right, but she’s having respiratory therapy right now.”

“What happened to her?” he asked, trying to stay calm, but in truth, he was terrified.

“Traffic accident. She was brought in by rescue copter with nothing but your business card in her jeans pocket. No purse. No phone. Not even a jacket.”

“Oh no! Poor thing. I’m glad she still had my card.”

“It was wet but we were able to read it. She gave her name as Jessie Willcox Smith. Is that correct?”

“Just to verify: Red hair, blue eyes, five-eight, maybe a buck twenty?”

“That’s her. To a T.”

“Yes. That’s her name,” he said firmly, but with less surety than he truly possessed. Somehow, while repeating it to the nurse, the name didn’t quite ring true.

He heard the scratching of a pen on paper on the nurse’s end. “Do you know if she has any next of kin?”

“No, she doesn’t, as far as I know. Can I please speak with her?”

There was a pause. “She’s kind of traumatized and not communicating too well. We had a panic attack after the accident, which was understandable under the circumstances—we had to give her something to calm her down. We were hoping someone could come and get her in a few hours. She apparently lost everything she owned when a drunk driver operating an eighteen wheeler hit her motorhome and pushed it off the Narrows Bridge into the water. She managed to break the window, escape and swim to the surface. She clung to a buoy until she could be rescued.”

Sam gasped in horror. “Oh no! I’ll come for her, of course,” he said, already pulling on his clothing as he switched the phone to the other hand. “It’s at least a two-hour drive from here. What’s her condition?”

“She should be stabilized and able to go home in the morning or maybe even when you get here. She’s got some bruises and a shoulder strain—nothing that requires surgery—and some minor burns from the airbag deploying. But she’ll be all right soon. She’ll need to be kept warm and someone needs to take care of her at home. She’s hypothermic right now.” The nurse hesitated and some voices were heard in the background. “She’s asking for you, but we want her to rest for now. She needs every breath over the next few hours.”

“Please tell her I will come for her as soon as humanly possible.” He paused. “She’s not going to die, is she?”

“No. She’ll recover. I’ll tell her you’re coming for her soon. Thank you very much. She said she had no one else to call but you.”

His heart gave a twist. “I’m glad you contacted me. Thank you, Nurse Nancy Williams.”

“You remembered my name.”

“I’m a good listener,” he replied, “even at three-thirty in the morning.”

“So you are. See you here soon. Good-bye.”

As soon as he hung up, he got dressed. He rummaged through his closet and drew out a fleece sweat suit that he sometimes wore for pajamas.
For her.
He shoved the clothes for Jessie in an overnight bag with some socks and a new toothbrush, one that was still in the package. There were no panties in the house, of course. He got out his wool navy pea coat from high school that was much too small on him. It had a couple of small moth holes, but maybe she could wear it in the car.

His heart was pounding, hammering in dread of something he had left undone with Jessie. It was then that he again realized that he should have kissed her properly, full on the lips, as she had invited. What if she had died? He would never make that mistake again.

Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known what came next
, said the angel on his shoulder.

“It would have been nice if you would have told me,” Sam said. “I would have offered her my couch.”

I tried to tell you
, whispered the angel in his ear.

“You are the most subtle guardian angel ever.”

I’m supposed to be
, came the angel’s reply.

It took him nearly three hours to reach the small-town hospital and he did push the speed limit, even as well-disciplined as he was about never breaking the law. He brought in the hastily assembled bag of clothing and found out from a nurse’s station where Jessie was located. She could apparently go home as soon as he could get her dressed.

He was right at her bedside and hardly recognized her. She was cut, bruised and a bit burned. Her hair was tangled and dirty. She had a few butterfly bandages on her face. All of her nails were broken. On that same arm, her injured shoulder was bound up tight. Oh, how he remembered the agony of doing something similar to his shoulder. He cringed, just thinking about the pain she would have to go through. That was certainly the worst he had ever hurt himself—that almost-separated shoulder.

“Jessie.” He said her name softly. “It’s Sam. I’m here.”

She opened her eyes and reached out her good hand. He took it in his. She was so cold. Her teeth chattered.

“Sam. You came. You really came.” She coughed lightly, weakly, and it was not a good sound.

“Jessie. How could you even think I wouldn’t come for you?” He touched his hand to her cheek. She turned her head and looked up at him gratefully.

“I know we just met, but I don’t have anybody else but you.”

“Me neither, Jessie. Except my dad and he’s in a nursing home. I have a stepmother, but we aren’t close. I have a handful of friends, only one of whom would show up in the middle of the night to come and get me.”

“I don’t even have that. You’re all I have, Sam. My motorhome and my books are all at the bottom of a river. And your first edition Kerouac of
Maggie
. Oh, no!”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Those are
things
. People are more important than things. You lived.”

“They cut me out of my clothes. Everything else is just stuff, right?” she said.

“That’s right. So, how did this happen?”

“I was driving carefully, but it was raining and slippery. The drunk driver of the eighteen wheeler behind me skidded and slammed into me and knocked my motorhome through the guardrail and into the river. It’s all gone. All my books! Everything in my purse. My dear motorhome, my haven of more than a decade.”

Her face contorted with anguish.

“You still have your story book at my house, you know. You haven’t lost it all. And we have each other. When you have true friends, you have something
of value.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked out.

She held up her good arm to him and he gently squeezed her hand, and then tucked it back carefully under the warm covers. A tiny smile escaped her, and that smile was for him. She had lost everything, yet, he could bring her a small ray of happiness.

It was at that moment that he knew she would really be all right. It would take time, but somehow, he would help her back to where she was when they had met that afternoon. At least that.

She looked up at him and for the first time, he saw Jessie for who she was:
a lost soul
. A sense of responsibility for her weighed heavily on him.

The nurse finally came in and left some discharge papers for Jessie to sign after she got dressed. She asked Jessie if she needed help getting dressed. Sam drew out the sweat suit from the bag.

Jessie looked at him and said, “Thank you, Sam. You’ll help me dress, won’t you?”

“Yes, Jessie.”

The nurse left the room and tenderly he pulled back the blankets and sheets where they had her bundled up.

She was trembling violently.

“Why are you shaking, Jessie? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know. I’m just painfully shy about my body.”

“Me, too,” he said. “You want me to call the nurse back in and have her do it?”

“No, they are swamped in the ER.” She was naked under the sheets, with a hospital gown only through her good arm. She was also bruised, a little burned and a little bloody.

“I’m not going to be inappropriate. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

She nodded and squinched her eyes tight.

He gently pulled the sweatshirt over her head and pulled her good arm through one sleeve. The other arm, in the sling, had to be covered with the shirt alone and there was no help for it.

He finally got the shirt on her.

“Ow,” she said, opening her eyes.

“Sorry. I
am
trying not to hurt you.”

“I know it.”

He reached around the back to pull her long hair up and over the outside of the sweatshirt. He was startled to see the condition of her back, under her hair. Some old healed wounds—faint stripes that intersected—lay across her back in a crisscross pattern that told a tale of horror. She heard his sharp intake of breath, his shock at her scars of abuse.

“Don’t ask me about that now, Sam.
Please.
”

It was hard for him to reply. After several moments had passed, he said, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me who did that to you, and why? It looks very old, but I can make sure he never does it again to you, Jessie. Through the courts. I can make sure he gets punished for hurting you.”

“You don’t understand. Not now, Sam. Please, just let it go.”

She sounded so tired and ready to weep that he just closed his mouth, pulled the sweat pants over her slim hips and up to her waist, and bent to put his too-big socks on her elegant bare feet.

She was so limp that he thought she had fallen asleep while he was dressing her. But then she opened her eyes again and said, “You saw me naked, Sam. I feel panicky about that.”

“Doesn’t count at a time like this, Jessie,” he assured her.

“Really? It doesn’t count?”

“No. Doesn’t count. Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He realized she must have been on painkillers because she was slurring a bit.

“I wanted the first time you saw me naked to be special, Sam.”

“It will be special, Jessie girl,” he said before he could stop himself. “I promise.”

“You like me that much, Sam?”

“Yes, Jessie, I like you that much.”

Jeepers, you’re a cheesy romantic
, said the angel on his shoulder.

She smiled and her head lolled back on the pillows.

“My shoulder hurts, Sam. I almost tore a ligament. And I’m all banged up.”