Chapter 17
J
osie threw the phone onto the passenger seat without even disconnecting the call, climbed over the gearshift into the driver's seat, and sped off toward the farm.
Please,
she thought.
Let my uncle be all right.
Somehow in the past few days she'd grown attached to Eben Lloyd. If anything happened to him, she'd never forgive herself for not being there. What was a shop full of balls of yarn or a car full of trash compared to a person's life?
She pulled past the driveway and parked on the edge of the road. Mitch's truck and Eb's truck took up a lot of room, and the EMTs needed to be able to get to Eb quickly, without her car being in the way. She slammed the car door shut and raced to the house, throwing open the front door.
“Uncle Eb? Mitch!” Her heart pounded inside her rib cage, so intense that she could practically hear each accelerated beat.
“Out here,” Mitch called, his voice muffled. “In Eb's workshop.”
She ran through the kitchen and out the back door, into a shed brightly lit with fluorescent fixtures. She hadn't been out here before, but she could see Mitch across the room, standing guard over Eb, who was seated in a chair. His bloodless face scowled when he saw her.
“Go on now, missy,” he wheezed. “Nothin' to see here.”
Josie ran over to him, gave him a hug. “Oh, Eb, there's plenty to see here. I'm just glad I'm seeing you alive.” She looked into Mitch's eyes. “What happened?”
“I came over to, uh, borrow something.” He nodded at Josie, over Eb's head. Right. He'd come to check on her uncle, bless him. “I found him sitting in this chair, complaining of chest pains, so I gave him an aspirin and called the EMTs, then you.” Mitch looked out the window, which was free of shade or curtains and covered in a light grime. “Here's the ambulance now.” She could hear the sirens approaching, thank goodness. Mitch looked at her again. “If you're all right, I'll go meet the ambulance in the driveway and lead the attendants back here.”
Josie nodded, grateful. “Hope you're wearing clean underwear, old man.” She dropped a kiss on top of his gray head. He was still conscious, so she had to believe the EMTs could stabilize him and get him to the hospital.
Within minutes two EMTs were rolling a gurney through the exterior door. They took a quick history. The female, clearly understanding that Eb would not respond well to sympathy, said, “How about an ambulance ride, Mr. Clooney? My partner here will hold off the paparazzi.”
To Josie's surprise, Eb didn't protest.
He's actually afraid,
Josie thought. The female EMT helped him onto the gurney, then covered him with a blanket and wheeled him out toward the waiting ambulance. Josie and Mitch followed.
She shivered as they loaded him in, and Mitch put a warm arm around her shoulders. The male attendant spoke for the first time. “We'll be here for a few minutes making sure he's stable, then we're taking him to the hospital in West Torrington. You're welcome to ride along, of course.” His expression was dubious. He clearly had Eb's number as well.
“Uh, I think he'd be more comfortable without me in such close quarters. He's very . . . private. I'll pack a bag for him, follow along, and meet you at the hospital. Is he going to be okay?” The EMT gave a grim smile. What had she expected? An older man with chest pains and shortness of breathâthe EMT couldn't give her any guarantees that her great-uncle wasn't going to die any minute.
Tears welled as memories of her former life in Dorset Falls flooded her mind. Her mother would drag her out to see Eb most Sundays, or occasionally bring him into town to have dinner at their house if he'd allow it. Of course Josie had complained about going to the farmâshe'd been a typical bratty teenagerâbut the truth was, she'd secretly liked it here where there was no pressure on her as the new kid in town to try to fit in with the established cliques. And where she could put aside the memories of her dead father, if only for an afternoon.
And she'd secretly liked Eb, too. He had kept a horse, and would often ask her to take Queenie for a ride as if Josie were doing Eb a favor. While they ate the dinner her mother had brought, Eb would needle Josie and she'd needle him back, less sharply under her mother's slightly disapproving eye. It was impossible to say for sure if Eb had enjoyed their company, but in retrospect, he must have. Otherwise, he'd have forbidden her and her mother from coming to visit. Or would have taken off somewhere when he knew they were coming.
Her mother had stayed in touch with him over the years. But after Josie had moved away, she barely thought of her great-uncle. She'd been bent on having fun and making a name for herself in the fashion world. The thought of how self-absorbed she'd been made her feel sick. Family mattered.
And now that she'd gotten to know Eben Lloyd again, her heart would break if she lost him.
Mitch squeezed a little tighter. “If you want,” he said, “I'll drive you. My grandfather is playing cards tonight at the VFW. I'll probably need to pick him up later anyway.”
Josie wiped at her eyes and felt a surge of gratitude. “Thanks, Mitch. I'd appreciate it.”
They watched the ambulance speed away, then returned to the house through the workshop door. For the first time, she looked around. Every inch of wall space was covered in tools and other items hung from hooks on white pegboard. Fluorescent fixtures illuminated the room to a blinding degree. All around her were old cabinets and dressers being used as cabinets, all of varying sizes and color schemes. Sitting on top of the cabinets and cluttering up most of the floor were piles of wood and pieces of rusty metal, just like the ones now covered in snow in the front yard.
“What is all this?” Josie asked. “What does he do out here all day?”
Mitch laughed. “Most of what you're seeing here is old metal parts from machinery that hasn't been used on the farm for fifty years or more. He welds the stuff together into sculptures.” He pointed toward a six-foot-tall . . . something that appeared to be made of wheels and what might have been a rusty metal tractor seat. There was something appealing about it, she had to admit. Whimsical, yet rustic. It would look good out on the front lawn, maybe with red geraniums and dark purple petunias planted around the base in the summertime.
“Are you telling me that my grouchy Yankee farmer uncle is a folk artist?”
Mitch laughed again. “That's exactly what I'm telling you. But don't let him hear you call him that. In his mind, he's just welding together bits and pieces of junk to keep himself busy during the winter. Come on, let's feed the pets, pack Eb a bag, and get to the hospital.”
Â
Mitch drove his car, which Josie had to admit was a lot more comfortable than the disintegrating fifteen-year-old leather seats of her Saab. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Mitch had said the trip would take thirty to forty minutes. Dorset Falls was a long way from a hospital.
“Try not to worry,” Mitch said. “Eb's a fighter.”
“By âfighter,' do you mean he's too ornery to die?” Josie had to smile. It helped to think of her great-uncle as some kind of cranky superhero.
Mitch laughed gently. “I'm glad I got there when I did.”
“Me too. And thanks. You probably saved his life.”
“No thanks necessary. And my grandfather would never forgive me if I didn't do everything I could for Eb. Tormenting him is Roy's reason for living.”
They pulled into the hospital visitors' parking lot just at the thirty-minute mark. Mitch was a good driver, and he seemed to know some shortcuts. He also seemed to know some of the hospital personnel, because when he and Josie approached the reception desk, the nurse greeted him by name.
“Mitch Woodruff, you handsome thing, you.” She was sixty if she was a day, with short, gray, pixie-cut hair. Her scrubs were printed with bright yellow smiley faces. She set down the crocheting she'd been doing and beamed up at him.
“Muriel Capocci,” he said, grinning. “You get more beautiful every day.”
“Thanks for noticing. What brings you here?”
Mitch gestured to Josie. “This is Josie Blair. Her great-uncle, Eben Lloyd, was just brought in by ambulance. At least I hope they're here by now. I don't see how we could have beaten them.”
Muriel punched at her keyboard. “It looks like they arrived a few minutes ago. They're putting him in a room now and lining up some tests. It'll be a while before you can see him, so you may as well get a cup of coffee and sit down to wait. We'll call you in when the doctor is ready to talk to you.” She picked up her crocheting project and went back to work.
Josie had never felt so helpless in her life.
Mitch put his arm around her again and guided her to a seat in the waiting room. “How about if I get us something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Water?”
“Maybe a Mountain Dew, if they have it? We could be here for a while, and I'll probably need the caffeine.”
Mitch strode off, his long, denim-clad legs carrying him down the hallway and quickly out of sight. She took a deep breath. Should she text her mother? There didn't seem to be any point. Katherine Blair was still out of cell range or she would have called by now. And it wasn't like she could do anything, even if she did get the message.
Josie flipped through the magazines on the side table. They all seemed to be about sports or parenting, neither of which interested her. Not a fashion magazine in sight. But that was just as well. She'd had the foresight to bring her preliminary sketches with her, so she pulled them out of the tote bag she'd found in the morning-borning room and began to shuffle through them.
By the time Mitch returnedâwith both drinks and homemade-looking chocolate chip cookies on a paper plate, which he set down beside herâshe'd sorted the drawings into two piles. One was for the definite keepers, and the second was for the maybes.
Mitch picked up one of the maybes, examined it, and gave a low whistle. “Did you do this? It's amazing. I can see you wearing this.”
Josie eyed him. Was that a line? No, he seemed genuinely interested, and she was fairly sure, based on their short acquaintance, that he was not the kind of guy who would try to take advantage of a situation like this.
“Um, yeah. This is what I went to school for. But my employer has been less than impressed with the other things I've offered him over the last few years.” Probably because she hadn't been offering Otto the thing he really wanted, which had more to do with taking clothes off than wearing them. When she went backâif she went backâshe wouldn't ignore his increasingly less subtle advances anymore. If she lost her job permanently, so be it. She'd figure something out.
“Well, I'm no expert, but this looks like talent to me.” Mitch set the drawing back down on the stack.
Josie felt absurdly pleased. It had been a long time since anyone had complimented her work. Maybe, just maybe, she could make a go of this. She glanced toward the glass window behind Muriel's station. Two nurses were visible, and they appeared to be talking to each other. Josie felt her heart rate tick up again. “What do you suppose is happening?” she asked Mitch.
He gently patted her arm. “Try not to worry, okay? It has to be a good sign that he was conscious when we found him and the EMTs brought him in. I'll bet a nurse will be here any minute to have us fill out paperwork.”
As if on cue, a door opened, and one of the nurses she'd just seen brought over a clipboard. “Are you the niece Eben told us about?”
Josie nodded.
“We need you to fill this out as best you can. Eb was here just a few weeks ago after the car accident, so his information should be up-to-date in our system. But it's procedure.”
Josie took the clipboard the woman held out. “Can you tell me anything yet about his condition?”
The nurseâK
ELLY
T
AYLOR
, her name badge readâshook her head so that her shiny hair bounced. “I'm afraid not. But you're in luck. The cardiologist hasn't gone home yet, so your uncle is being seen immediately by a specialist. I'm sure once the preliminary tests are finished, Dr. Andersen will be out to talk to you.”
When the nurse returned to her station, Josie looked at the clipboard and groaned inwardly. The document was two full pages, plus some kind of consent form, which she was pretty sure she did not have the authority to sign for Eb. She filled out his name and address. Date of birth? Not a clue, a fact that she immediately felt guilty about. It would have been nice if she'd sent him a card now and then over the years, but she hadn't even considered it. Family medical history? Personal medical history? She had to answer both questions with
Unknown,
as well as virtually everything else. Finally, she scribbled her signature on the consent form. It was the best she could do.
“Want me to take that to Kelly for you?” Mitch asked, setting aside the magazineâsportsâhe'd been perusing.
Josie stood. “No, I will. At least it will feel like I'm doing
something.
”
She walked across the low-pile carpet and waited at the window until the nurse noticed her and slid back the glass. “Sorry. There's so much I don't know.”
Kelly smiled sympathetically. “That's fine. We have everything we need.”
“Would you mind if I borrowed the clipboard for a bit? I'll return it before I leave.”
“That's fine. We've got plenty.” She closed the glass window.
Josie sat down, pulled a fresh sheet of paper out of the tote bag, and clipped it onto the board. Then she fished out the box of colored pencils she'd bought at the general store and set it on the seat next to her.