Hard Rain (12 page)

“More soup and sandwiches,” she’d told him with a smile. “The ladies’ cooking works as many miracles around here as anything modern medicine can provide.”

The chief patted his generous waistline. “There’s something I know all about.”

“And a silo-sized coffeepot wouldn’t hurt either.”

Mitch Kannon’s smile eased the weariness etched in his face. “I thought only Texans insisted on everything being bigger?”

Amy adjusted an IV line. “Hey, until yesterday, I only drank herbal tea and honey.”

“So we’re converting you to Turning Point’s down-home ways already?”

Amy smiled thoughtfully. Although she’d grown up in a small town outside Seattle, she’d always been so anxious to move away and create a life outside the area’s narrow boundaries that the town had never seemed like home. After Jesse left, it had become a place filled with too many memories. Courage Bay, with its sea and fair weather and brave, caring people, was a wonderful community, but Amy knew she’d ended up there primarily because of Aunt Betts. If it hadn’t been for her aunt’s generosity and help, Amy would have never been able to attend medical school and raise her child. She thought of Jesse. Their child.

“Lord knows, Turning Point and the other towns around here could use some smart, bright, young medical professionals such as yourself and the others who came in with you.” The chief interrupted Amy’s thoughts. “Rumor is Doc Holland has been talking about retirement. Guess the heart attack got the man to thinking he might not have as much time left as he’d like. If that’s the case, he wants to spend it with his wife and family and on the golf course. Can’t say I blame him, but the loss is going to leave Turning Point in sore need of medical services.”

From what she’d witnessed, Amy sensed that Turning Point’s residents, even with their stubbornness and “can-do” attitude, would readily agree with the chief.

“This is a nice little town,” the chief continued. “Good people. Solid values.”

Amy smiled. “Are you recruiting me, Chief Kannon?”

He smiled back. “Just giving you something to think about, Doc.”

“I’m flattered, but—”

“Just think about it, Doc. That’s all I’m asking.”

She thought of the past forty-eight hours. Jesse. Ian. “I’ll add it to the list.”

Mitch nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll get word to the school to send out some more soup and sandwiches. The ladies will probably be grateful for something to keep them busy. Last I heard it was fairly quiet up there, thank the Lord. I’m heading out now to meet the chopper coming in to pick up Hal’s wife, Beth, and fly her to Houston. Hal’s one of our volunteer firefighters.”

“What happened?” Amy asked.

“Apparently she cut an artery on a broken window but managed to make it to Noah’s. She’d lost a lot of blood and Noah had to operate for fear she’d lose her arm. Lucky for everybody your friend Cheryl was there. I’m hoping the road has been cleared enough to get out there myself. Cheryl says she’s just fine, but after her swim in the river, I want to see for myself.”

“Don’t let her snow you. Medical professionals are the last to admit something might be wrong with them.”

Mitch winked. “If she gives me any trouble, I’ll bring her to you.”

“I’ll be here,” Amy assured him. “And, Chief?”

Mitch stopped and turned back to her.

“I know you haven’t heard from your daughter, but Nate is one of the best,” Amy said.

The chief nodded. “As is my daughter.”

“I’m sure they’re both safe.”

“That’s my prayer.”

After Mitch left, Amy debated lying down once more, deciding it would be useless. Once the sun came up, she could never sleep. Fortunately her internship had trained her to get along with little or no sleep for long periods. A man came in and she wrapped suspected broken ribs, recommending the patient get the area X-rayed as soon as the roads were passable again. The sun was high now, the heat heavy and rich even in the early morning as if in apology to the sky’s fury only hours ago. The rescue squad’s radio sounded. Expecting Dana, Amy was shocked to hear the voice of Courage Bay Hospital’s Emergency Attending, Rachel Browne, patched through from the control center communications system.

“Amy, we’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. We finally got through—”

Amy went cold all over in a fine sweat. “Ian?” she asked as the bottom dropped out of her world.

“No, Ian’s fine. It’s your Aunt Elizabeth. She was brought in yesterday complaining of unbearable pain from a headache. We discovered an aneurysm. They were in the process of opening the skull when the aneurysm ruptured.”

Despising the weakness that made her limp, Amy bent her head. She clasped her hands to stop their trembling. Tears splashed onto them. She could not ask.

“They clamped her off, but she lost a lot of blood. Then the healthy veins and arteries began to spasm. They elevated the blood pressure to force the arteries to stay open, but it didn’t work. She suffered a stroke.”

Amy covered her face with her hands, tried to remain steady. “She’s alive.”

“She’s in a coma, Amy,” the other woman said.

Amy took a deep breath, trying to check her emotions. She needed to think clearly.

“Where’s Ian?”

“He was at a friend’s skateboarding when it happened. One of your aunt’s friends had come by to pick her up for Tai Chi class and found her nearly blind with pain and brought her to the emergency room. I had my husband, Guy, swing by and bring Ian to stay at our house, so don’t you worry about him.”

“I’ll get a flight as soon as possible and be there. Rachel?”

“What is it, honey?” Rachel was admired for her calm, competent manner, but it was her compassion that made her a truly remarkable doctor and person. The concern in her soft voice almost broke Amy.

“Tell Aunt Betts I’m on my way.”

T
HE PILOT
of the chopper had been radioed to return as soon as he dropped off Cheryl’s patient. He got Amy to the airport in minutes. From there, she’d taken a direct flight to California. With the time change, it was not even noon yet as she turned onto Washington Avenue toward Courage Bay Hospital.

Jesse had still been out patrolling and assisting with cleanup, so she hadn’t been able to contact him before she left. The chief promised he would explain her abrupt departure. She didn’t like leaving this way with so much unfinished between them, but she had to get to Aunt Betts. Phone lines could be down for who knew how long, postponing any immediate chance of talking to him. Even when communication was restored, the matter she needed most to discuss with him was not something she wished to reveal over the phone.

It would have to wait, she told herself as she parked in the employees’ lot and took the elevator to ICU. She nodded to colleagues but didn’t pause as she headed to the nurses’ station. One of the senior nurses filled her in as they walked together to Aunt Betts’ room. The surgeon had removed the part of Bett’s brain that had died dur
ing the stroke and put in a shunt to reduce the pressure. Medications were being administered to suppress seizures that would jar her head and increase the swelling.

Amy reviewed her aunt’s chart, asking questions about her condition and care. She did not falter until she stepped inside the hospital room. Her aunt lay on the bed, her eyes closed, her expression peaceful as a ventilator mechanically breathed for her. Fluids were being pumped through IVs into her body to support blood pressure and heart rate. The nurse discreetly disappeared.

Amy moved to the bed, checking lines, monitors. She placed her fingertips along the underside of her aunt’s wrist, felt the beat through the thin flesh. Her leg muscles went lax. She knelt by the bedside. Her hand stayed on the pulse, which was remarkably strong. Its life source was artificial, yet as she touched the small throb, Amy could not stop herself from hoping. She covered her aunt’s still fingers with her other hand.

“I’m sorry, Auntie Betts,” she whispered, as if afraid to wake her. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at the unmoving body. Another person she loved struck down physically. And she hadn’t been there. She bowed her head and wept silently.

Her tears were spent but her head still lowered when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Rachel. Amy straightened and stood, brushing away any traces of her tears, embarrassed to have been seen so vulnerable.

“I heard you got in,” Rachel said softly.

Amy nodded. “I was lucky to get a flight out fairly quickly.” She glanced at her aunt, then back at Rachel, but she could not speak. She looked at her aunt again. “We see it every day, but…”

Rachel put her hand on Amy’s shoulder again. “I know, honey.”

Amy looked at the other doctor. “There’s little chance, is there?” It was a question not even worthy of a first-year med student.

“When the swelling goes down, the pressure releases…” The woman hesitated.

“I’m sorry. It was foolish to ask.”

“Amy, every doctor has seen miracles. I have. You will, too.”

Amy nodded, turning her gaze back to the woman lying unmoving on the bed.
But not this time,
she thought.

“Is there anyone I can call for you?” Rachel offered.

“My mother,” Amy answered. “She should be here. But I can call her, thanks. And Ian, of course. I need to collect him from you.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s no trouble whatsoever. On the contrary, he’s a natural with the baby. You’d think he was the big brother.”

Amy managed a small smile. “He never did have the chance to play that role. He’s probably getting a kick out of it. I’m anxious to see him.”

“He’s worried, of course. About you and his great-aunt. But Guy and the baby are keeping him occupied He’s wonderful with the baby, Amy.”

Amy heard Rachel’s pleasure. Rachel and Guy’s baby was adopted. The child’s mother, Guy’s former stepdaughter, had died giving birth. When the baby immediately had begun experiencing cardiovascular abnormalities, Guy had suspected an inherited disorder. Knowing his former stepdaughter had no such health problems, he and Rachel had searched for the baby’s father and were able to confirm Heath had inherited a little-known genetic disorder called Noonan’s Syndrome.

Rachel glanced at her watch. “My shift is over in a half hour. Why don’t you grab a bite, make some calls, then I can drive you over to see him. Or if you prefer not to leave the hospital, I can have Guy bring him over.”

“I prefer he come here. If I left, wasn’t here and something…” She was stammering.

“It’s no problem, Amy.” Rachel touched her arm. “Let me go call Guy now. You’re welcome to use my office phone for any calls you have to make.”

“Thank you, but I have my cell. I’ll ride down in the elevator with you.”

They separated when they got off the elevator and Amy headed outside. Cell phone signals could interfere with monitors and other medical equipment.

She reached her mother and told her the news about Aunt Elizabeth. Her mother assured her she’d be there as soon as she could get a flight. Amy told her to leave a message on her cell phone’s voice mail with her arrival time and she’d pick her up at the airport. After Amy hung up, she sat on the bench outside the hospi
tal for a few minutes. She closed her eyes, tilted her face toward the sun, summoning strength. Wearily, she rose and headed back inside.

E
VEN AFTER
the accident, Jesse did not remember his body being in this much pain. Of course, time had dulled the memory, and there’d been the relief of massive dosages of pain medication.

He’d worked all day, helping to clear roads, detour traffic, patrol outer-lying regions for stranded or injured residents. Phone lines in many areas remained down. Radio communication was sporadic but improved. The high school was beginning to empty out. Although evacuees were advised to stay put for another few days until the roads became more passable, the late shift in the storm had left many evacuated areas undamaged and residents were anxious to get back to their homes. Those who had lived where the storm had hit were equally anxious to see what damage had been done to their properties. Only fleetingly Jesse thought of his own house, reduced to rubble. It was the first real home he’d ever had. He’d designed the building himself, adapting basic floor plans. He’d known every carpenter, plumber, electrician and laborer employed in the construction, often working side by side with the crew. He’d deferred to Aunt Edna, Clare, and his female friends when it had come to the interior decor. The house had been modest but well-built and efficient. Yet despite his involvement and satisfaction with the house, it had always remained just that. A house. It was missing the magical ingredient that made it a home.
And at night, when he sat rocking on the front porch, his mind would drift to memories of Amy and he would remember that once he’d been in love and it had been perfect. And a loneliness would settle on him like the summer’s high heat. He’d known too many such nights in that house. He would not cry now at its demise.

He pulled up in front of the firehouse. Despite the late hour, lights powered by auxiliary generators were on in many of the town’s buildings. Sleep for the residents of Turning Point had become a secondary commodity.

As he got out and closed the driver’s door, Jesse spied the stuffed frog in his worn but jaunty tuxedo that Amy had propped on the console between the two seats. He smiled for the first time in many hours. He headed for the fire station. He longed for a shower and a meal, but, most of all, he longed to see Amy’s face.

When he stepped into the building, he smelled the soup kept warm on a camp stove, saw the cots and medical supplies efficiently arranged in the first-aid area. Fortunately, he had not heard of too many serious injuries throughout the day. Most complaints were minor enough to be attended to out in the field. He hoped Amy’s day had not been too stressful and she’d been wise enough to use the down time to get some rest.

Jesse saw Mitch talking to a volunteer from the rescue squad. He scanned the room. He did not see Amy. He moved toward the two men.

Mitch turned as Jesse approached, shot him a tired smile. “About time you came in for a rest.” His face sobered. “I saw your house, Sheriff. I’m sorry. One of the hardest hit in the town.”

Jesse picked through the sandwiches in plastic wrap piled on a platter near the soup. He chose one thick with ham and cheese, unwrapped it and took a generous bite. “I’ll rebuild.”

“Sure you will,” Mitch agreed. “In the meantime, where are you hanging your hat? There’s an extra room at my place, and I’d be happy to have you.”

“Appreciate the offer, but for now, I’ll probably bunk down right here so I’m available if any emergencies come in. After that I’ll rent a room at the motel while rebuilding.”

“My door is always open. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t,” Jesse promised. “Any word from Jolene?”

“She was holed up at her ranch with the paramedic. They’re both fine.”

“That’s what I expected but it’s still good to hear.” Jesse glanced around the room.

“If you’re looking for the pretty doctor, she isn’t here,” Mitch said.

Jesse met the man’s gaze. “Just stopped in to see how she was doing,” he said casually. He took another big bite of the sandwich and chewed.

“That’s nice and friendly of you.”

Jesse continued to chew his sandwich, ignoring the teasing gleam in Mitch’s eyes. “I’m a nice guy.”

“So I hear. Heck. Even Lurie attests to that, so it must be true.”

“Must be.” Jesse finished the sandwich, wadded up the plastic wrapping and tossed it in the wastebasket. He adopted a nonchalant attitude. “So where is Dr. Sherwood? Out on call?”

“She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Jesse no longer made any pretense of disinterest. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

Seeing Jesse’s face, Mitch became serious. “She left this morning to get a flight back to Courage Bay. Family emergency. Her aunt had an aneurysm. She’s in the ICU.”

Jesse silently digested the news. He expelled a breath.

“I’m sorry, Jesse.”

Jesse schooled his expression. “Nothing to be sorry about.” Without another word, he turned and walked out of the building.

She was gone.

A
MY WAS SITTING
in the chair beside her aunt’s bed when Rachel knocked softly on the door. “Ian’s here,” she told her. “He’s in the private room reserved for family members.” She stepped inside as she spoke and checked Amy’s aunt. As Amy already knew, there was no change.

Her son waited for her on one of the worn waiting-room chairs, looking much too serious for a thirteen-year-old. His legs and arms had the gangly length of adolescence and already he was an inch taller than her five feet six. He stood, shifted nervously as she came into the room. Suppressing the usual embarrassed protests, he allowed her to hug him hard. Her arms tightened around him. She found herself unable to let go. He began to squirm.

“Mom, you’re choking me. Jeesh.”

She loosened her hold and he wriggled out of her arms. She saw the sole hair on his chin that was his proud claim to impending manhood. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I missed you, honey.”

“You’ve been gone two days, Mom.” He rubbed his cheek.

She looked into her son’s blue-green eyes, the same color as hers. That was where the resemblance ended. In looks and in the tall frame that would soon fill out, Ian was his father.

“It seems much longer, sweetie.” She ruffled his hair. He rolled his eyes.

“Rachel says you’re great with the baby.”

He shrugged, but surrendered a half smile. “He’s all right for a little rugrat.”

She smiled, gestured toward the couch. “Let’s sit a minute.”

Her son’s face sobered as he sat down.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when Aunt Betts got sick,” Amy said.

Ian shrugged. His gaze shifted from hers. “I wasn’t there either. I was at Jeremy’s.”

“Aunt Betts wouldn’t want either of us feeling guilty, you know that. Things happen in life sometimes and we have no control over them. Some things humans aren’t able to prevent or change. Doctors, parents, we all have things we wish we could have prevented or done differently.”

Her son’s expression took on the long-suffering look he reserved for Amy’s lectures. She paused, glanced around the room. It was empty, but fearing interruption,
she gave him a small smile and touched his forearm. “Why don’t we go down and see if Rachel’s office is available?”

Her son’s face became alert. “What is it, Mom? Is it Aunt Betts? Has she…” He couldn’t finish.

“No, no.” He allowed her to take both his hands in hers. She looked down. Such large hands for a young boy. She met his eyes. She had not expected this to be so hard. She wanted to be certain he understood. “Aunt Betts’ condition is the same. But she suffered a major stroke, Ian. Machines are keeping her systems alive right now.”

Ian blinked hard. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t too big to cry. No one was too big to cry. But she knew it would only make him angrier.

“Aunt Betts would hate that,” he said.

Her son was not so young after all. She nodded, proud of him. “You’re right, Ian, she wouldn’t like that.

He surprised her by squeezing her hands.

She took a silent breath. “Do you remember that time you asked me about your father? Your real father?”

Her son grew even more solemn.

“And I explained your father and I were never married, that we had been teenagers when we knew each other and were no longer together when I learned I was pregnant with you.”

“You said he’d moved away a few months before you found out you were pregnant.”

“And I tried to contact him at the last address I had for him but he was no longer there.”

“And you didn’t know where he went,” Ian supplied in a toneless voice.

“That’s right. I didn’t. Until two days ago.”

Ian’s head jerked up. His eyes widened as he stared at his mother.