Hold Me: Delos Series, 5B1 (6 page)

Callie was stunned, reeling with all the news. “You said he’s going to live, Grandpa. Is that right?”

Nodding, Graham said, “Yes. They’ve stabilized him and he’s already on a C-5 flight to Germany right now. They’re prepping him for surgery and once the plane lands, he’ll go straight to the medical center to be operated on.”

She pulled one hand free, holding it over her pounding heart. “He’ll live . . .” That meant more than anything else to her right now. Graham released her other hand, his gruff voice softening a little.

“Yes. I asked the caller for more medical information and they patched me through to the surgeon who’s going to perform the surgery on Beau once he arrives. I got special treatment and I’m indebted to them. The surgeon promised to call me directly once Beau is out of surgery and in recovery. Usually, they keep a wounded soldier or Marine for two to three days, and then they’re flown here to the States for continuing recovery.”

“When is the surgeon going to call you? Did he say how long the surgery would take?”

“He said it depended upon a lot of things. If there’s no compromise to other organs in the area, it’s going to be around seven hours.”

Pressing her hand to her eyes, she whispered, “Oh, God . . .” Tears leaked between her fingers as she sat there hunched over, her mind spinning, her emotions at hurricane force. “W-what can I do, Grandpa? Can I fly to Germany to be with him?”

He shook his head. “Callie, we’ll know more within twelve hours. It would take us twenty-four hours to fly to Germany. And the surgeon said Beau wouldn’t be there for more than two days with that type of wound. We’d get there and they’d be taking him out on another C-5 flight heading stateside.”

Her stomach fell and she suddenly felt nauseous, relief entwining with future fears and possibilities. “What does it mean to lose part of your lung, Grandpa?”

“Well,” he said, holding her tearful gaze, “one thing is for sure. Beau’s going to receive a full medical discharge. He needs a complete set of lungs to remain a black ops soldier. He won’t have the oxygen levels an operator needs when he’s in major distress or running for his life. He’ll have less oxygen available to him, Callie, but it won’t bother him at all as a civilian. But he’s done soldiering, honey.”

She wiped her face, her voice wobbly. “That means he’s coming home once and for all, doesn’t it?”

Nodding, Graham slid his hand across her hunched, taut shoulders, moving it slowly back and forth, trying to get her to relax. “Yes, it means exactly that. And that’s good news.”

“Where will they take him?”

“Doc said they’ll be flying him into Joint Base Andrews outside of Washington, D.C. Then, he’ll be transported by ambulance to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. He’ll be kept there until he’s discharged.”

“Can I see him, then?”

Nodding, Graham said, “Just as soon as we know when they’re leaving Germany, you and I are going to fly to Maryland. We’ll be there to meet him. Okay with you?”

Callie couldn’t stem her tears and she sniffed, reaching out, gripping her grandfather’s hand. His face was hard, expressionless, but his eyes were bright with emotion. “I-I’d really appreciate that.”

“Okay,” he said, “I know it’s going to be hard for you to sleep the rest of the night. Why don’t you get dressed, Callie and I’ll wait out here for you. Then, we’ll go over to the main ranch house. Grandma is up and making us some hot chocolate. Your parents are up, too. We’ll all sit at the kitchen table, have hot chocolate, and wait. I think you should stay over there with us until the surgeon gives me a call, and when he does I’ll let you talk to him as well. Okay?”

Right now, Callie needed their support as never before. “Beau’s not going to die,” she whispered.

“No. He’s going to pull through this. Go on, get dressed. You need to be surrounded with family right now.”

“But what about Beau’s parents? Do they know what happened to him?”

“Yes, they’ve been informed.”

“Could you call them and talk to them? Tell them what else you know?”

He smiled a little. “I was going to do that when we got back to the main house.”

She stood up. “Then I need to get moving.”

“That’s the spirit.”

*

At ten a.m.,
the phone rang sharply in the main ranch house. Callie, already on edge, jumped. The entire family was going about their daily jobs while Callie was nervously knitting, trying to still her trembling fingers, her mind going wild with terror that Beau could die on the surgery table.

Earlier, her grandfather had called Mr. and Mrs. Gardner in Black Mountain, West Virginia. By giving Beau’s parents the good news that their son would survive, she could see his tight features soften, knowing he was giving them the best of news.

Graham asked if they could fly to the medical center in Maryland to see him, but they couldn’t afford it. But depending upon how long Beau was going to be at Walter Reed, Cletus Gardner said they’d hop in their old pickup truck and drive there to be with their wounded son.

Most heartwarming for Callie was that both wanted to speak to her. That had surprised her, but it shouldn’t have because Beau reflected his parents in kindness and thoughtfulness. For the first time since Christmas, when Beau had called and introduced Callie to his parents, they’d talked again.

She saw Graham get up and answer the phone sitting on one of the lampstands near the couch where she sat knitting. Instantly, she stopped knitting as he sat down. Her mother and father walked into the living room, standing, grim looks on their faces. Grandma Maisy came in from the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour from making three blackberry pies for the family this evening. She, too, looked strained and was as exhausted as Callie felt.

Graham was quickly taking notes, grunting every now and then. Once, he turned, winking in her direction. Callie felt her shoulders relax and let the tension bleed out of her. She knew then that Beau had survived the surgery and was all right, but it was so hard to sit and wait. She wanted to grab the phone out of his hand and ask the surgeon a hundred questions, even though she knew her grandfather would ask every question she had in mind.

The call took ten minutes, and then Callie got her turn to talk to Dr. Westover, the surgeon. Afterwards, the doctor said he wanted to speak to Graham again. When they were finished, Graham hung up the phone and the whole family gathered around the couch, that same tension and worry in their expression.

He turned to Callie. “Beau is going to make it.”

“Thank God,” Callie whispered, her voice cracking.

“That’s the best of news!” Maisy said, giving her a warm smile.

Callie saw the anxiety in her parents’ faces begin to recede.

“Now,” Graham cautioned the family, “the surgeon said they had to remove the lower one-third of Beau’s right lung. There was no more damage from the gunshot and that’s really good news. He’ll be on a flight out of Germany tomorrow morning. He’ll arrive at Walter Reed Medical Center and the doc said he’ll instruct a nurse on board that flight to text you Beau’s information and where he’ll be assigned at the medical center. Also, there’s a phone at the nurse’s station on the floor where he’ll be assigned a ward and bed number. He said he knows the doctor assigned to Beau, Major Terry Benson, a pulmonary specialist, a Marine.” He grinned slightly. “He’s got the best possible doc. He’s a Marine and he’ll take good care of Beau, no question.”

“That’s even better news, Grandpa,” Callie agreed.

Nodding, Graham said, “When Maisy gets that flour off her fingers, maybe she’ll make flight reservations for you and me to go to Maryland. By that time, Beau will be in his ward, settled in, and ready to see visitors. How does that sound?”

Swallowing convulsively, Callie whispered, “That’s more than fine, Grandpa . . . thank you . . . so much.” She gripped his hand, tears trailing down her face.

“You heard me ask if you could speak to Beau after he’s out of recovery and the doc said ‘no?’ He felt it would be best if you do that when we see him stateside.”

Giving a jerky nod, Callie said, “Okay . . . I want so badly to hear his voice, to tell him how much I love him.”

“I know,” her mother said, giving her daughter a watery smile, “but he’s probably barely conscious and in shock with all that’s happened to him.”

“Not to mention,” Maisy added, “that he is still coming out from under anesthesia and that messes with a person’s memory and thought processes. He might not even know you yet, Callie, so I think the surgeon is right about this.”

“Will he be conscious at Bethesda?” she asked, looking at her grandfather.

“I’m sure he will be,” Graham said. “You just have to be a little more patient for a bit longer.”

“Patience is the one thing I’m short on, Grandpa.”

He chuckled. “All youngsters your age are like that.” He gave his wife, Maisy, a fond look. “We’re in our sixties. Patience is something we’ve learned to practice, haven’t we, darlin’.”

Maisy smiled, “Indeed.” She gave Callie an amused look. “Raising children teaches you patience.”

Callie felt lightness in her heart for the first time. Beau was wounded, he had survived surgery and now, he was coming home! Home to her, to his family, to her family. Everyone loved him and she knew everyone was praying for him.

Callie had felt the electric charge that went through the air when the phone rang, and now, it had begun to dissipate. She wondered how Beau was doing. Was he in pain? How badly she wanted to wrap her arms around him and just hold him, tell him how much she loved him.

Two days.

Could she hold herself together for that long? What made it bearable was that her grandfather was coming along. He’d been in the military and he knew the customs, had good contacts, and could negotiate to get information. And he had that Marine pride and calm centeredness that was always with him, a silent introduction to anyone. She couldn’t see anyone telling him ‘no.’ He would find a way around it.

Beau had told her one night, as he held her in bed, that her grandfather was a man everyone instantly respected because he reflected the best of the military. And people recognized his automatic authority, trusted him, and did what he requested. She hoped he would bring all that to bear so that she could be with Beau in two days. She was on his military record as being his fiancée; therefore, she would be his wife. That was why they had called her first to inform her that he’d been wounded. She was so glad that Beau had put that special paperwork through when he got back to Bagram. Otherwise, she’d not have known he was wounded. Only his family would know. Although, she knew Amber and Cletus Gardner would have instantly called her as soon as they’d found out.

Waiting. She had to wait. She struggled to put her fears away, the PTSD that held her in its grip was awake and pacing through her. Beau had told her that any time there was another crisis in her life, it would return. Well, it had.

April 5

B
eau’s heart leapt
when he saw Callie enter his hospital ward. He saw her worried expression turn to melting love for him as she hurried down the aisle, beds on either side of the ward. Nurses and other medical personnel flitted back and forth between the wounded Army and Air Force personnel.

His throat tightened, raw from the tube that had been placed inside him for surgery at Landstuhl two days earlier. He was sitting up in Fowler’s position, a comfortable angle, to help aid his breathing. He tried to smile but failed, feeling weak from the opiate dripping into one of two IVs that were going into his arms.

Beau had a drain tube where the third lobe of his right lung had been removed and every time he moved or tried to breathe deeply, he felt a sharp, cutting pain in the area.

Callie was a vision, an angel now. As he’d lost consciousness in that mud and snow covered playground, feeling his breath being stolen out of him, feeling as if he were suffocating, he pictured Callie in his mind, between his tightly shut eyes.

And now she was here, wearing a springtime pink dress just above her knees, those sweet legs of hers smooth and bare. Her red hair was loose and thick around her shoulders, the colors shining copper, gold, and crimson beneath the overhead lights. She was beautiful, and he ached to hold her in his arms once more because he thought he was going to die of his wound.

Tears jammed in his eyes as she drew near and halted at the railing on the left side of his bed, opposite his wound. She leaned over and gently kissed him full on his mouth. His lips were chapped, but hers felt warm, welcoming, and soft against his. Her sweet scent encircled him and he weakly lifted his arms, sliding them around her shoulders as she moaned with joy. Her soft hands framed his face and she kissed him carefully, treating him as if he were fragile. Eyes closing, Beau dealt with the pain of his movement to slide his fingers into her rich, silky long hair, drowning in the heat of her mouth loving his.

Slowly, Callie eased up, opening her eyes that gleamed with unshed tears. “Beau . . . oh, God, you’re alive. Thank God! I love you so much.”