Losing Gabriel (31 page)

T
he gloom of November settled over Windemere, and daylight ceded to dark and time tumbled toward the upcoming holidays. Dawson had finished a day's work and was in his pickup heading home when his cell chimed. His father's number popped up. “Dad! How you doing?”

“Rushing toward the end of the semester. How about you?”

“Same. Winding down classes and working. Good to hear your voice.” Franklin usually called via video so he could speak to Gabe. “What's up?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“I'm listening.” Dead leaves blew across the rural road he was driving into town and rattled against the windshield.

“I want you and Gabe to come up here for Christmas. I've been too long without a grandson fix. I'll send you plane tickets and meet you at O'Hare.”

This Christmas was Franklin's first in Chicago, and except for the video calls, Dawson and Gabe hadn't seen Pops since June. “Can you petition your weatherman for snow? Gabe would love to play in it.” Growing up, Dawson had seen a lot of snow, but Tennessee didn't get much except in its mountains. A few inches from the winter before had made Gabe wide-eyed with wonder.

“Can't promise snow, but I can promise wind.”

Dawson laughed. “Gabe will love flying. You putting up a tree?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course there'll be a tree. And I'm told the city gets all duded up with lights and decorations.”

It would be good to be together as a family for the holidays. “Send the tickets. We'll be there.”

There was a space of dead air alerting Dawson that either the call had dropped or his father had more to say. “Dad?”

“Still here.” His pause lengthened. “Um…when you come…there's someone I want you to meet.”

Dawson slowed for a traffic light. This invitation went deeper than a family visit. Someone. A hint that Franklin had met a woman he cared about. For an instant, Dawson rewound time to when he was fourteen and Franklin had had a date with a nurse from an area hospital. Now, years later, Dawson couldn't recall her name and face but did remember how he'd reacted. He turned mean and hateful when Franklin asked his son to meet her, spewing anger about Franklin trying to replace his mother. He saw things through different eyes now. He knew how lonely life could be. He cleared his throat. “Looking forward to meeting her.”

“
Her?
Did I say ‘her'? I just said ‘someone.' ” He felt his dad's smile of relief come over the phone and through the distance between them.

“Does she have a name?”

“Connie Baylor, my age, divorced, two grown girls, and amazing, smart, and beautiful.”

The vision of his mother's face faded. He was ready for another to take its place. “Well, for the price of two tickets, she must be worth it.”

“She is.”

“See you both next month.” Dawson clicked off, dropped the phone onto the front seat, and turned into his driveway, where he sat thinking back to all the head-butting he once did with his father. Now all ancient history. The journey had been rough, unplanned in many ways, and both of them changed by it. He missed Franklin and looked forward to Chicago. He wouldn't tell Gabe until the last minute because the boy would be bouncing off walls when he heard.

With the heater off, the air inside the truck turned colder, and Dawson roused himself. Through the windshield, he saw that Sloan's car was gone, while Lani's waited. And inside the house Gabe waited too.

Lani drove Dawson's SUV on a round of errands, Gabe in his car seat singing off-key about the wheels on a bus going around. She glanced in the rearview mirror, saw his dark head bobbing, his hands busy shaping the limbs of a plastic action hero into impossible contortions. Gabe looked happy. Lani wished she owned some of the boy's contentment. The revelation about Dawson and Sloan still haunted her. Not only the image of them kissing, but also the implication. If Dawson was allowing Sloan into his and Gabe's life permanently, Lani couldn't stay. Leaving, moving on, would break her heart, but she would have to quit. She had no choice.

Her cell phone blared out her ring tone, snapping her from her sad thoughts. She picked it up, saw that Jon Mercer, owner of the Bellmeade stables, was calling.
Why in the world…?
“Jon?”

“Lani, where are you?” His voice sounded taut, serious.

“Not too far from the Berke house. Why?”

“Can you come to Bellmeade now?”

Fear ratcheted inside her. “What's wrong? What's happened?”

“Oro's been snake bit. Probably a cottonmouth…got him on his nose while he was grazing. The vet's on his way.”

“No!” Not her horse.
Not Oro.
“I'm coming!” She turned the car around in a neighbor's drive, then pushed the pedal hard, sending the auto down the tree-lined street faster than any speed limit allowed.

Minutes later, Lani whipped into the Bellmeade grounds and braked at the main barn, where Ciana waved her down. Another car was parked to one side. Soldier, the Mercers' big German shepherd, came up wagging his tail, and Ciana sent him away. When Lani jumped out of the SUV, Ciana caught her by the shoulders. “Take it easy, Lani. The doc's with your horse. Jon actually saw it happen and got to Oro pretty quick. Jon got him calmed and into the barn, called the vet and then you.”

Tears welled in Lani's eyes. She opened the back door, unbuckled Gabe. The boy was wide-eyed. “It's all right, Gabe. My horse is hurt, but he's with a doctor.” She motioned to the barn.

“Gabe see horse?”

“Maybe later.” She had shown Gabe photos of Oro on her cell phone, and Gabe had asked before to “go see horsey.” At the moment, all Lani wanted to do was run inside the barn and check on Oro.

Ciana stepped up. “Gabe? I'm Ciana, Lani's friend. Would you like to walk over to the fence with me and look at the horses in the field?”

Gabe shrank against Lani's leg. She knew he wouldn't go with Ciana willingly and she didn't want him to have a meltdown. Lani picked him up. “Let's take a peek inside, okay? Then you wait with Ciana out here.”

Gabe's lip trembled, but he nodded. She took him into the barn and Ciana followed. Oro was tethered in the center, his golden head drooping. Jon and another man were working on the animal, Jon soothing Oro with words and strokes, keeping the horse's head lowered.

“Not to spread the toxin,” Ciana whispered to Lani.

Gabe pointed. “Horsey sad?”

Lani walked closer, holding Gabe, her heart in her throat. “How…how…?” Her voice cracked.

The other man, crouched by Oro's head, looked up. “I'm Dr. Perry. You know the last time he had a tetanus vaccination?”

“Maybe a year. I'll have to look it up.”

“I'll give him a booster.”

Lani wanted to stroke Oro's withers, let him know she was there. The horse had been her salvation after Arie died, her constant companion for years. She couldn't lose him! She repositioned Gabe from her hip to the front of her body so that she was looking directly into his face. “Gabe, sweetie…listen to me. You need to be a big boy now and go with Ciana.” He wrapped his arms around her neck. “Please, honey. Just for a few minutes. I promise I won't stay long. Will you—”

A tear ran down her cheek and Gabe touched it. His chin quivered. “Okay, Lani.”

She lowered him to the floor, and Ciana held out her hand. “Come on, cowboy. I'll let you sit on the fence and I'll tell you the names of all my horses.”

Gabe took her hand and trailed out of the barn at her side.

Lani came over slowly, so as not to startle Oro. She stroked the thick winter coat on his golden neck. “Hey, Oro.”

Her horse almost raised his head, but Jon interceded. Lani had been told that Jon was a horse whisperer with an uncanny ability to communicate with animals. When he spoke, Oro calmed instantly, and Lani saw how true it was. She knelt, saw Oro's muzzle, and felt sick. His nose area was fat and swollen and two fang marks could be clearly seen in the fleshy part of his muzzle.

Beside her, Dr. Perry said, “Jon swears it was a cottonmouth that got him, based on the fang marks and depths. A rattler would have given Oro a warning shake and it would have spooked him, not so a cottonmouth. Let's give Oro a dose of antivenin. He's big, and he's been well cared for, all in his favor for recovery,” the doc offered. “We'll keep a close watch on him, treat the open wound for a couple of weeks.”

“But he'll be all right?”

Perry offered an encouraging smile.

“I'm getting my rifle, and me and Soldier are going snake hunting.” Jon's green eyes flashed when he spoke.

Just then the barn door opened and Ciana came in carrying Gabe. “Lani…he…he's acting funny. Can't catch his breath.”

Lani shot to her feet, her heart in her throat. She grabbed Gabe, saw that his face looked chalky and his breath came out wheezy and labored. “Oh no! No! Gabe…!” The horses! Was he reacting to the horses? Her eyes darted around the barn, and like stop-action photography her gaze fell on what she hadn't seen until now.
Hay.
Bales and stacks of alfalfa hay everywhere she looked. An asthmatic trigger as deadly as a snakebite.

L
ani reached for his rescue inhaler, then realized it was in her purse in the car. Holding Gabe upright, pressed against herself, she ran for the SUV. Ciana, who ran behind her, pulled open the door. “Inhaler in my purse! He has to stay vertical.”

Gabe struggled, gagged, coughed, tried to speak and couldn't. Ciana dumped Lani's purse on the car's seat, found the inhaler, and gave it over. Lani thrust it between Gabe's blue-tinged lips and pushed the medication into his mouth. He kept struggling for air. She used it again, all the while talking to him. He momentarily rallied, tried to say her name, couldn't. Tears welled in his blue eyes.

Lani braced her leg on the inside of the doorjamb, sat him on her knee, and lifted his arms over his head keeping his air passages open. “Call an ambulance!”

Ciana reached for her phone, but Jon materialized beside Lani, his voice breaking through her panic. “Put him in my truck. An ambulance will never get here in time.”

Clutching Gabe, she ran for Jon's truck and climbed inside while Gabe struggled for air. Lani felt the side of his neck. His erratic pulse raced much too fast. “Hurry.” She was weeping now, unable to control herself. “Hold on, baby…hold on.” His head lolled on her shoulder. She forced him to sit straight, saw that his eyes were rolled back and his lips bluer.

Minutes felt like hours, but Jon sped and screeched to a halt in front of the emergency room doors in record time. He jammed the truck into park, leaped out, ran to Lani's door, and threw it open. Lani's arms shook from the strain of holding Gabe upright. Jon took him from her, and together they raced into the ER. She yelled, “Asthma! He can't breathe!” And in moments, Gabe was in triage. A breathing tube was threaded down his throat and hooked to life-giving oxygen. Lani and Jon, shoved aside by the ER team, watched them put Gabe on IVs and a monitor. Gabe's color pinked. His abdomen, gone concave from oxygen deprivation, swelled into its natural shape. Lani saw the numbers measuring his heartbeat and blood pressure leap across the screen and edge toward normal as Gabe's condition stabilized.

Lani's knees buckled, and Jon caught her. “Come with me. You're as pale as a ghost.”

She didn't want to leave, but the ER doctor barked, “Please! Go! I don't need two patients in here right now.”

Jon guided her out into the waiting area, where brilliant sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows. A pacing Ciana quickly wrapped Lani in her arms. Lani buried her face into Ciana's shoulder while Jon gave his wife an update. Ciana stroked Lani's hair. “You got him here. I'm sure he'll be all right now.” She pulled back, offering Lani a wad of tissues.

Just then, an admittance clerk came over holding a clipboard. Despite her many hours of working in the building, Lani didn't recognize the woman. The clerk said, “They want to admit your child, so we need you to fill out some paperwork.” Still too shaken to clear her head, Lani stood mute. The clerk asked, “Are you the child's mother?”

Lani shook her head. “His…his caregiver.”

“Well, we need a parent or a legal guardian to admit him. Can you reach one of his parents?”

Lani nodded but didn't move. Ciana, who had been holding Lani's purse, held out the bag. “I stuffed in everything from the seat and drove your SUV here. Your phone's in the purse.” Lani couldn't control her shaking hands, so Ciana found the phone. “Can I send a message for you? Make a call?” Ciana's eyes brimmed with compassion.

Lani shivered. No nurse's training in the world had prepared her for sending the news to Dawson she must, but realizing her trembling fingers might be unable to hit letters on the tiny phone screen with any accuracy, she said, “Please.” She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and dictated:

Gabe in ER. Asthma. Hurry.

Ciana pushed Send.

“You understand that we have him sedated because of his intubation…just until I'm satisfied he's out of the woods.”

Dawson, standing beside Gabe's hospital bed, heard the doctor, yet was unable to take his eyes off Gabe lying so still amid tubes and IVs and monitors. His beautiful son looked like an inert mannequin. He placed his hand on Gabe's chest simply to feel the rise and fall of it, to assure himself Gabe lived. He wished with everything that his dad was the doctor in the room.

“We've got him on cortisteroids. His BP has normalized and we're pushing fluids.” Dr. Nelson, Gabe's pediatrician, was a kind man trying to reassure Dawson. “He's had a terrible, dangerous allergic reaction, but I believe he'll be fine once the meds do their job. His caregiver's fast action of getting him here so quickly helped.”

When Nelson left, Dawson turned to Lani, who had edged into the background while the doctor was in the room. Icy, mind-numbing fear had so consumed him when her message arrived that he couldn't remember driving to the hospital from his job site, where he'd been framing a house in a new subdivision. She had met him on the Pediatric level, at the fourth-floor elevator doors, the first words from her mouth, “I'm sorry…so, so sorry.”

Now with her back braced against a wall, she looked ready to fall apart. He wanted to put his arms around her, comfort her, but she'd always kept him at arm's length, lately even more so. She was withdrawn around him, no more easy chats when he came home from work. She simply hugged Gabe and said goodbye. He hadn't been able to figure out why, what had happened to change things between them, but he missed her smile, her easy laugh. Right now, though, in spite of his fear for Gabe, he wanted to console her. He clenched his fists at his sides to resist reaching for her. “What happened today?”

His voice was soft, but she couldn't yet look him in the eye. She told him about her horse, the rush to get to Bellmeade and of taking Gabe into the barn without a single thought as to what might harm him. Her words were halting, heavy with recrimination and strangled tears. “My fault, Dawson. All of this.” A tear escaped and tracked down her cheek. She wiped it furiously.

“Lani, I don't blame you. We're still figuring out his triggers, so there was no way for you to know that anything in that barn would hurt him.”

She felt no consolation and shook her head. “I didn't think it out…animals, hay, mold everywhere! I should have—”

“Stop. You beating up on yourself won't help anything. It happened. Can't un-ring a bell. The good thing is you got him help. You saved his life, Lani.”

Can a person be a villain and a savior at the same time?
She wanted to believe him, but the wound was too fresh and raw. “Jon Mercer…he drove us. I'd never have made it on my own.”

Dawson had a vague memory of the owner and storied horse trainer. “I'll thank him too. But right now, you look ready to drop. You don't have to stay.”

She had left her books and laptop at his house because she'd planned to study while Gabe watched his favorite cartoon shows that afternoon. Yet she didn't know how she could leave the hospital now either. “I…I left stuff…”

“It's okay. I'm here. Right now, I'm going to call Dad, tell him what's going on. Go to the house, and I'll text you if anything changes.”

She knew Dawson was right. She needed to collect herself, return later. Perhaps by then the breathing tube would be gone and Gabe upgraded to a respiratory cannula.

She was in the doorway when Dawson said, “If…if Sloan's there…not gone to work yet, will you tell her about Gabe? I don't really want to call or text her about it. But she should know.”

Lani closed her eyes.
Sloan. Gabe's mother.
That truth reared up. Sloan held a card Lani never would. “I'll make sure she hears it from me.”

Sloan didn't go to the hospital right away. She wanted to see Gabe with all her heart, but she couldn't face walking into the place again, even after all this time. When Lani first told her, Sloan assumed he'd come home quickly. But he didn't, so days later she gathered her courage and went to see him. She arrived early on a morning when Lani would be on the campus for classes and Dawson would be at work. She wanted to see Gabe without either Dawson or Lani around when she went into the room.