Heart of Integrity (Hearts of the West, #2)

Chapter 26

Ifor stumbled into the hotel, his legs aching from navigating the uneven, rocky terrain. So many boulders and stones had been thrown loose by the earthquake. Piles of rubble now dominated what had been a smooth, clear valley.

Everywhere he turned people were sobbing, bleeding. Despairing.

But he was too embittered to cry. Too angry for anytears to flow.

He wound his way back to the spot he’d left his father in. Women from the townhad been tending to the injured as best they could while the doctor made his way round each and every person who’d been carried in or walked in.

He reached his father, who lay on the makeshift bed, a pillow tucked under his head. He looked so pale, so tired. So old.

“Tad? I’m back.”

His father didn’t stir.

Ifor glanced around the room. So many wounded. As his gaze traveled, he noticed more and more people had blankets pulled up over their heads. His stomach tightened. How many had died? How many more would die from their injuries over the course of the next few days?

Dawn was just about breaking now—it’d been a few hours since the quake had shaken them all.

Ifor turned back to his father, reached out and stroked his head.

He frowned. He was cool to the touch.

He leaned closer, listening for the soothing sound of his rhythmic breathing. But he couldn’t hear it.

“Tad?” He thrust his hand out, holding it in the air just in front of his father’s nose and mouth. He sighed. He was breathing. But very lightly.

“Excuse me—over here!” He waved his arm in the air to signal the doctor at the other side of the room. “Please—he’s barely breathing.”

The doctor gave him a nod, finished checking the pulse of the patient he was with, then hurried over to Ifor.

“Part of the ceiling fell on him. Myself and another man were able to walk him here, but now he feels cold and he’s barely breathing.”

“Did he lose consciousness when the ceiling hit him?” The doctor took Ifor’s father’s pulse.

“No…”

“Mm. His pulse is thready. Is he generally in good health?”

“Oh, yes. He’s never ill. He’s strong, he is. Strong and healthy.”

The doctor quietly pressed Ifor’s father’s sides and abdomen. He reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a long thin tube with a flat circle at one end, which heplaced against Ifor’s father’s chest. He tipped his head to listen through the narrow end of the tube.

Ifor watched him expectantly.

The doctor was mostly expressionless. But when he pressed his father’s ribs again, Ifor noticed a flicker of concern on the man’s brow.

“What is it, doctor?”

“I believe some of his ribs are broken. There’s a chance they could heal, or there’s a chance they may have done too much damage within him to recover.”

His heart flipped. “What do you mean?”

The doctor sighed, replacing the listening device in his pocket. “We’ll know soon enough. If the damage is beyond healing, then... These may be his last few hours. I’m sorry.”

He froze. “But there’s a chance he may recover, you said.”

“A chance, yes. But a small one. I think it’s best if you prepare yourself for the less favorable outcome.” The doctor cast a sympathetic expression at him, then left to continue his rounds.

Ifor turned back to his father, scooping one of his hands into his own. So cold. So weak.

“Tad? I’m here now, Tad. You rest, you hear? Rest and get better. You can get through this, Tad.” He swiped a rogue tear away.

Please, Lord, bring him through this...