Gabriel's Bride (32 page)

She exhaled, near bereft as they disappeared behind swooshing glass doors.

An arm came around her. “Come on, Rachel. They need some information from us.”

John Paul turned her around and led her back to the front desk. She could feel the eyes of the other patients and families on her as she sat down in front of the admissions desk and started filling in the appropriate paperwork.

Name, date of birth, next of kin . . . the list went on and on, driving her near mad with its monotony. Where was Samuel? What were they doing with him?

She returned the clipboard to the woman behind the desk. “How soon till we can see him?”

“I’m sure the doctor will be out to talk to you as soon as possible.”

Rachel nodded. That wasn’t really an answer, but it was the best she could expect for now.

She returned to her seat by John Paul. He had his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped together and head bent. Praying.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall and started her own prayers once again.

“Mrs. Fisher?”

Rachel jumped, startled by the voice and the name she had never gotten used to being called.

“
Jah?
”

“I’m Dr. Williams.” He was a kindly looking man—dark skin, eyes, and hair. Dressed in green cotton pants and matching shirt, he smelled like toothpaste and antiseptic. He took the seat next to her. His lips pressed together, worry puckering his brow. “We’re preparing the helicopter to take Samuel into Tulsa.”

A loud buzz started in Rachel’s ears. She shook her head to dismiss the sound, but it only grew louder.

“Mrs. Fisher, are you okay?”

“Rachel?”

The words floated to her in a tunnel.

The kind doctor pressed a hand against her back and shoved her head down. “Breathe,” he commanded.

Rachel complied.
In, out, in, out
, but she was still seeing gray around the edges of her vision as he started talking again.

“We have him stabilized for the trip. Do you know what kind of snake bit him?”

She shook her head. “
Nay.
”

The good doctor’s lips pressed together. “We’re treating it like a rattlesnake bite. Whatever it was, he seems to be unusually sensitive.”

“Is that why you’re sending him to Tulsa?” John Paul asked.

He nodded. “Do you have a way to follow?”

“I can’t go with him?” Rachel cried.

John Paul patted her hand. “You hate riding in a car. How are you going to get into a helicopter?”

This was different. “I want to go with him. I
have
to go with him.” Rachel grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Please, he doesn’t speak a lot of
Englisch
. I don’t want him to be scared.”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. That’s just not possible.”

Tears blurred her vision once again. “I don’t want him to be scared.”

The doctor patted her hand. “He’ll be sedated for the flight. He won’t even know he’s in a helicopter.”

She didn’t have time to think about what the bishop would say about Samuel flying in a helicopter; it was the only way to save him. It had to be done.

If only she hadn’t let him go to the creek. If only . . .

19

T
his had to be what Gideon felt like when his son, Jamie, was missing. Hollow, numb, yet a white hot pain cut him to the quick.

His Samuel.

Gabriel leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He’d prayed until he couldn’t pray any more.

“Another fifteen minutes and we’ll be there,” Bill Foster said.

Gabriel nodded. When he’d returned home from yet another visit with Beth Troyer, this one concerning her cats getting in her
Englisch
neighbor’s garden, he’d found his mother sitting on his porch, silent tears on her cheeks.

His other boys sat around her solemn, quiet and still, and he had immediately known tragedy had struck.

Simon was as composed as a thirteen-year-old could be, recounting the tale.

They had all gone to the creek to fish and play in the cool water. Samuel had been walking along the bank poking a stick into the various holes in the ground. No one had been paying him too much mind until he screamed.

The best they could figure, he had found a snake, a rattler, and decided to pick it up. But the snake had other plans for the day, striking quickly before slithering off into the woods.

Rachel had come to the rescue, carrying Samuel back to the house and onto Ruth and Abram’s.

Now Gabriel was on his way to Tulsa to catch up with his wife and son.

“Let’s go around back,” Bill Foster said, turning the van at the traffic light in front of the big pink building, Saint Francis Hospital. “It’ll be quicker than trying to navigate through all that construction.”

He gave a quick nod and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Samuel was so innocent and sweet, such a joy to his family despite the tragic circumstances surrounding his birth and the handicaps he had to overcome each and every day. Samuel was a blessing for sure and for certain, and Gabriel couldn’t imagine life without him.

Bill stopped near the entrance of the Emergency Room. “Go on in. I’ll park and catch up with you.”

“Thank you, Bill Foster.” Gabriel slid from the cab of the van and shut the door behind him. He tried not to look at the helicopter as he made his way across the paved entry. Or think about how serious Samuel’s injuries had to be in order for them to warrant a ride in such a machine.

He faltered a step as he walked through the automatic glass doors and past the guard. To the left a woman sat behind a desk. “I’m looking for my son.”

She gave a quick nod. “We were wondering when you’d get here, Mr. Fisher. They’ve taken Samuel to the Children’s Hospital.”

“Where is that?” He tried to remain calm when he wanted nothing more than to yell and scream until he found his
bu
.

“It’s next door. Just go out the way you came in and turn back to the left. Follow the sidewalk on around. You can’t miss it.”

He gave her a nod. “
Danki
.”

How much longer until he found Samuel? He met Bill Foster coming in as he was going back out. “He’s at the Children’s Hospital.”

Bill nodded and they set off around the building.

The bright colors in the Children’s Hospital seemed to mock him as he made his way across the room to the check-in desk. His footsteps on the polished floor echoed and made him want to scream at their hollow sound. He wanted to see his boy, make sure he was okay. Only then could he take a breath and relax.

The nurse behind the counter sent them upstairs. Samuel, it seemed, was in surgery. Gabriel could only imagine how terrifying the experience was for him. Alone with strangers.

He saw Rachel the instant he got off the elevator. She sat alone in one of the fabric chairs provided by the hospital. Her head was bowed, her body bent nearly in half as she rocked back and forth.

“Rachel?”

She turned toward him, confusion then relief shining on her features. “Gabriel. I’m so glad you’re here.”

She was covered in blood, a chunk of her apron torn clean off, her sleeve ripped. She had scratches on her face, no doubt from her sprint through the woods. She looked tired and her big brown eyes swam with tears. She launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him, trembling as she held him close.

As if realizing what she had done, she released him just as quickly and straightened her prayer
kapp
. “They took him to surgery about an hour ago.”

He nodded, built-up energy coursing through him. He’d raced to get here to wait once more. He lowered himself into the chair next to his wife.

Bill Foster jingled the change in his pocket. “I’ll go find us some coffee.”

“
Danki
, Bill Foster.”

A few minutes of eternity later, a doctor wearing a cap on his head and those green shirt and pants they seemed to prefer came toward them. The soles of his athletic shoes squeaked against the waxed tiles. “Mr. and Mrs. Fisher.”

“
Jah
.” Gabriel nodded in time with Rachel.

“Samuel is in recovery now, but he’s got a long road ahead of him. As far as the actual bite is concerned, the poison has been contained, but he has had a bad reaction to it. We’re keeping him sedated due to the pain caused by such venom.”

Gabriel took a big breath in through his nose and pressed his lips together, just how blessed they were to still have Samuel with them ringing in his ears.

“Typically it’s a couple of weeks before such patients are well enough to be released from the hospital,” the doctor continued. “Until then, he’ll have constant monitoring. We’ll do everything in our power to keep him comfortable.”

From the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw Rachel wipe away her tears with the back of her hand. He couldn’t turn and look at her, knowing that if he did, he’d fall completely apart himself. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the doctor and hung on his every word.

“He has sustained a great deal of damage to the digits of his right hand. We are particularly concerned about his pinkie and ring fingers.”

“What do you mean damage?” Rachel’s voice sounded tiny and wounded, as if the injury were on her own hand.

“Snake venom is tricky stuff. Basically, venom of this sort attaches itself to the blood and changes it, effectively cutting off the supply to the affected area. So in a sense, his fingers have been denied the blood they need to remain healthy. Only time will tell if we got the antivenom to him in time to protect his digits, particularly the two I mentioned.”

“When can we see him?” Rachel’s question reflected Gabriel’s own thoughts. He needed to see his
sohn
, needed to know that he was alive and lying in a hospital bed as he had just been told.

“We’re moving him to ICU as we speak, so once he’s settled in we’ll allow short visits.”

“What does ICU mean?” Somehow Gabriel managed to find his voice enough to ask the question, though even as he spoke he had trouble recognizing the words as his own.

“Intensive Care Unit. Samuel is going to need extra careful monitoring until the worst of this has passed.”

The next time Rachel allowed herself tears was one week later when they had to amputate two of Samuel’s fingers. She had refused to leave him, sleeping on the couch in the waiting room when visiting hours were up for the day. Bill Foster had brought her extra clothes and taken her bloodstained ones away. Gabriel had stayed as long as he could, coming back every other day to check on the progress.

Rachel knew he loved his son, but she was there and he had five other
kinder
to see about as well as a farm that needed tending. It wasn’t his responsibility to see after Samuel—it was hers.
She
had done this to him. If she hadn’t let Samuel go down to the creek, if she hadn’t been so tired, so selfish in wanting a rest. If . . . if . . . if . . .

Now he was fighting for his life, handicapped beyond even his mental challenges, and it was all her fault.

She looked Samuel over for the countless time that day. He was asleep, still drugged by the doctors to keep him still and quiet while the second dose of antivenom did its work. In a couple more days, they would stop the drugs, re-bandage his hand, and send them home.

Unworthy
.

That one word played over and over in her mind. She was unworthy of this child who had loved her so unconditionally. Unworthy of the family God had given her. Unworthy of the blessing He had so generously provided.

Completely unworthy.