Safe Haven (30 page)

Read Safe Haven Online

Authors: Renee Simons

"They turned on the flood lights."

"Did they find Volpe? Is he dead?"

"He'll never hurt you or anyone else again."

She looked from one familiar face to the other - Torres and Mahan and O'Keefe and back to Drew - although the movement intensified the fierce headache throbbing behind her eyes. "What are all of you doing here? How did you know? How did you find us?"

"They've been trailing you," Lieutenant Torres explained. "And we've been trailing them."

"When did you start again?" she asked.

"We never stopped. We knew Volpe wouldn't give up and we wanted to get his hired gun so we just kept an eye on you." Torres shook his head.
"Never expected to scoop him up in a body bag."

She shivered. "What took you so long? I could've used some help."

"You did just fine."

A paramedic knelt beside her.
"'Scuse me, Lieutenant.
Got to check the lady's vital signs again before we move her."

When he'd finished, he looked at her. "You got a headache?" She gave him a slight nod, remembering how the movement hurt. "We need to get you to a hospital. Someone's got to look at your cheek and you may have a concussion.

“I want the same hospital as Ethan Caldwell.”

She heard some low murmurs above her and the paramedic said. “No prob. Now here’s the thing - we could lower you in a Stokes basket but it would be easier if you could manage the elevator. Think you can?"

"No prob."

He chuckled. "We'll take it slow. You can use me for support. My partner will go first," he added. "If you lose your balance he'll break your fall."

"Hope you guys are entitled to hazardous duty pay."

 

The walk to the elevator and the waiting stretcher involved her last bit of exercise for the next thirty-six hours. When she came around in a hospital room, she found herself being poked, prodded, scanned, stitched and observed. Her first thought was of Ethan and she begged a nurse for a report on his condition. She returned with Drew in tow.

"How is he?"

"The bullet nicked a lung and he lost considerable blood. He's stable and relatively comfortable. Except that he's been calling for you."

“I have to see him.” She tried to get out of bed but found herself tethered to intravenous tubing. As her vision blurred and the room began to spin, she decided being tied to something wasn’t such a bad idea.
For the moment.

Drew patted her arm in an awkward attempt to comfort her. “Rest easy,
Jordan
. He’ll be out of it for a while yet. You need to take some time to come back to yourself.”

"What about my car?"

“Why not wait until you’re feeling a bit more chipper. All that can wait.”

“My car?”

"Meade tampered with the steering mechanism."

“And the dolls?”

“The same.
Torres said he was the outside man, giving him ample opportunity to come and go as he pleased."

"Did the lieutenant say why?"

"He's been suffering through some private hell or other. Torres didn't say what. Apparently, he was 'in' to Tony and trying to get clear."

The nurse interrupted. “You’ll have to leave, now. This young lady needs her rest.”

The last thing
Jordan
heard before dropping off was a promise from Drew to return with updates on Ethan.

A day later, the intravenous tubes were disconnected enabling him to arrange a visit. He parked her wheelchair where she could see Ethan without interfering with the nurse's movements as she checked the bags and tubes feeding nutrients, blood and oxygen to a body in need of all three.

"Nurse Victor, this is Jordan VanDien."

When she finished her work, the nurse turned and looked her over, then thrust out her right hand. "So you're the one," she said.

Fiftyish and trim, she possessed a firm grip.
Jordan
suspected her capable of handling the most difficult of patients. She decided not to ask any questions for the moment.

"Only one of you can stay at a time," the nurse said, "and only for fifteen minutes." She examined
Jordan
’s face. “You shouldn’t be out of bed for much more than that anyway.”

"I've had my visit," Drew said. "You stay with him for a while." He pushed her closer.

"Watch out for that vacuum drainage system on the floor," the nurse ordered in a soft voice.

Jordan
leaned against the bed rail and watched Ethan. Each time a spasm of pain coursed through him, his body tensed in a subconscious attempt to control the uncontrollable. His fingers clutched the sheet or he tossed his head from side to side, muttering words she couldn't understand and bringing her to tears.

"Why is he in so much pain?" she whispered. "Can't you give him something to make him more comfortable?"

"He's getting what he needs, dear. I don't think he's in physical distress."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Before he went under, he asked about you and his brother. Seemed convinced you were in some kind of danger, hurt or worse. We checked but couldn't alleviate his fears except to say you hadn't been admitted to any of the local hospitals. Not then, anyway. The information didn't seem to satisfy him."

Jordan
held his hand until her nurse tracked her down and deposited her in her own room. “And don’t let me find you anywhere else until I say
it’s
okay.”

As
Jordan
’s strength returned, her visits became longer. One evening she felt Nurse Victor's gaze and looked up. "If he's yours, honey, do
yourself
a gigantic favor and hang on to him," she said. "He's more man than I've seen in a dog's age." She patted her on the shoulder and returned to her chair in the corner.

Wanting, needing to give back some of the strength he'd shared with her in her weakest moments, she slipped her right hand through one of the openings in the rail and held his hand. She had no way of knowing how her presence registered in his subconscious until his restless movements subsided. Perhaps she was doing some good.

Nurse Victor must have approved, because
Jordan
heard no objections from her. Sometime during the night the RN lowered the rail on the side where
Jordan
kept her vigil, strictly against regulations, she was sure. But then, allowing her to stay as long as she did couldn't have qualified as proper hospital procedure either.

At around four-thirty, she felt the nurse's hand on her shoulder once more. "You should go back to your room before the morning routine begins."

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"You were good medicine."

She returned after rounds. Ethan had awakened twice and asked for her, the day nurse said. On Miss Victor's instructions, he'd been told she would return. Written orders from the doctor gave Drew and
Jordan
permission to visit whenever they wanted and to stay as long as they liked.

"Has Mr. Caldwell's brother been here?"

"He just left. Said he was on a deadline and would return at five."

Jordan
nodded in Ethan's direction. "How is he?"

"He's doing just fine.
Resting calmly.
You can sit by the bed, if you like. That way, he'll know you're here."

The rail was still down. She took Ethan's hand, fully intending to keep watch until Drew returned, but fatigue hit like a blow. She laid her head down on her free arm and watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest.

The rhythm of his breathing proved as irresistible as a lullaby. The tranquility of the moment invaded her battered mind and she surrendered to it. Her eyes closed on the thought that being near him would have been comforting if only he hadn't nearly died saving her.

 
After what seemed like only a few moments, she felt the gentle touch of a hand resting lightly on the crown of her head. When she turned, it traveled down the side of her face caressing her cheek. She kissed the open palm and straightened to find Ethan examining her.

"Take a break," he whispered hoarsely.

"When Drew gets here."

"I'm out of it most of the time. Get some rest. We can talk later." She shook her head. "I'll be here when you return." He caressed her cheek once more.
"Promise."

 
For several days after, she and Drew took turns keeping watch. Each struggled with the desire to do "something" to help Ethan, even if that something meant providing nothing more than their presence and more patience than either of them could muster. They wanted Ethan well, and they wanted him well NOW.

"I'm being irrational, but I can't help it," Drew said. "It helps to know I'm not the only one."

"Maybe we'll feel better when the tubes come out."

He nodded. "That will show progress."

The following morning, she found Ethan awake.

 
"I wanted to be here when you came around."

 
"I knew when you were here. I knew you'd be back. How's Andy?"

"A bump on the head but otherwise fine.
How do you feel this morning?"

"Like bloody hell," he said. A smile lit his eyes and touched the corners of his mouth.

She examined his features, taking in the pallid skin that not even his tan could disguise, his sunken cheeks and the shadows beneath his eyes. "You look like bloody hell."

"Thanks, love, I needed that."

"Damn you, Ethan, you're always lecturing me about being careful..."

He took her hand and gave her a pleading look. "I know I am, but could you wait a little longer to return the favor? I'm still thanking the gods you and Andy are okay, instead of lying mangled in a heap of metal and concrete."

"I hoped you hadn't heard the crash."

"After you left, I finally remembered what I wanted to tell you -
that
the MG had been tampered with." His breath caught and he coughed.

"I know what happened. Close your eyes."

"Don't leave right away?"

"I'll stay until you fall asleep."

Within seconds, his eyes closed and his breathing became deep and regular. She watched him for a moment or two,
then
left.

Eventually, her headache cleared, allowing her to think. She felt stronger, but each time she considered the madwoman up on the girder, she broke out in a cold sweat. What had gone wrong up there?

When Dr. Torino paid a visit he didn't seem to think anything at all had gone wrong. After they caught up on the months since they'd last seen each other, she told him what had happened at the building site and what had led up to it. "How could I have lost control that way?"

"Interesting that you should interpret expressing your anger and pain as losing control."

"What would you call it?"

"Letting go."

"Semantics, Doc.
Just semantics."

"How have you been sleeping?"

"Peacefully."

"And how do you feel?"

That took some thought. "Empty, I guess, but satisfied, too." She took a breath.
"A bit of both."

"Maybe now you'll have room for love."

"No man is going to want me...and my imperfections."

"The right man will."

"I wish I could believe that."

"This man you love put his life on the line for you.

Would he have done that unless he cared deeply for you?”

Jordan
shrugged. “I don’t know.”

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