9 #3
Just then, the waiting room door opened and a woman wearing a white coat over her scrubs stepped in. “McCallahan family?”
The three of them rushed her, Callie arriving first.
The doctor smiled. “Let’s sit.” She moved to a chair, then waited while the three of them reclaimed their seats. Kam was so anxious he couldn’t take his eyes off the doctor.
She held out her hand to Tanner. “I’m Dr. Sydney.”
“Tanner Patrick. This is my wife, Callie. She’s Glory’s sister.”
Kam doubted any of them would bother clarifying that Glory was a cousin. In all the ways that mattered most, Callie and Glory
were sisters.
“And my brother, Kam.”
She nodded to each of them. “First off, Ms. McCallahan will be fine.”
Grateful that he was sitting, Kam felt his legs go boneless. He actually gasped a breath. “The blood?”
“A laceration on her forehead and cheek, another on her thigh. None of the cuts were dangerously deep—that is, they didn’t
reach critical structures like major blood vessels or nerves—but they were still significant enough to need numerous sutures
to close properly and heal well.”
So much blood had covered her face, running into her eyes, that he hadn’t been able to tell much. Now relief left him limp.
“She also has two rib fractures, and a rotator cuff tear. All on her left side. She said that was the side of her car that
impacted with the tree.”
The damned car had bent around the tree. It was a wonder she hadn’t been crushed.
“She’s going to be in a lot of pain.”
Callie covered her mouth on a sob. Tanner quickly hugged her closer.
Nodding, swallowing, Callie said, “Sorry. I’m okay. Please, go on.”
“I’m including a referral to an orthopedic specialist for the shoulder. I would suggest she see one right away.”
Tanner, the only one not shaken, asked, “Anything else?”
“She has numerous contusions, especially on her left side. You’ll notice it immediately on her face and forehead, and the
discoloration will get worse before it starts to lighten. But I see no signs of a concussion. She’s clearheaded, worried about
a dog, and worried about all of you.” A frown marred her brow. “She’s against surgery for the injury to her shoulder, but
I’ll leave that to the specialist.”
“When can she go home?” Callie asked.
Dr. Sydney smiled. “She’s anxious to be on her way.”
Kam stiffened all over. “She can leave the hospital?”
“I understand your concern, but her condition is stable, and the fractures aren’t severe enough to require inpatient care.
She’ll heal just as well—maybe even better—at home where she can rest without the usual disruptions a hospital brings. It’ll
also be better to avoid risks like infection.” She looked at each of them. “She shouldn’t be alone.”
Together, they stated firmly, “She won’t be.”
The doctor smiled again. “She can manage her pain with ice for her shoulder, along with the OTC meds I’ve recommended. Her
ribs will be most painful for the first week, but then should start to get better.”
“How long?” Callie asked.
“Four to six weeks to heal. We’ll follow up outpatient if needed, but there’s no benefit to keeping her here.”
Callie said, “She can come home with me.”
What? Kam leaned around his brother. “No, I’ll be with her at her house.”
Tanner stood up between them and again held out his hand to the doctor. “Thank you. How soon can we see her?”
Understanding the predicament, something she likely saw often with the families of patients, the doctor said, “A nurse will let you know shortly. Oh, one more thing: She’s anxious to get the blood out of her hair.
She’ll need help to do that without a shower.
After twenty-four hours, if she attempts a shower, it should be brief because of the sutures, without water directly hitting those areas. ”
“She has a handheld shower nozzle,” Callie said. “I can do it and be really careful.”
Kam locked his jaw. He wanted to help Glory, but he supposed he should let things go for now. There’d be plenty of time to
iron out who could do what after he got her home. But he was taking her home.
The second the good doctor was gone, Kam took a stance. He kept his tone gentle, but he wasn’t about to be swayed. “Glory
is going home with me.”
“You have to work,” Callie said. “If she goes with me, Addie or I can always be with her.”
A quick glance around the waiting room showed they were still alone. “There was a fire at my shop today.”
Slowly, Tanner turned to face him. “How bad?”
“It was set in a big garbage bin where we tossed out cardboard boxes, plastic and some wood. It singed part of the front exterior
wall on the shop, but luckily, Robby, from the landscape shop, saw the flames and ran over with his fire extinguisher. No
major damage done.”
Tanner ran a hand over his mouth. “Hell of a coincidence, though, your jobsite dealing with a fire and someone tailing Glory.”
No shit. Kam had been thinking about it nonstop, along with his fear and worry for Glory. “I don’t think the driver tailed her all
day. From what she said . . .” He had to stop, to clear his head and fight back the alarm he’d felt when she screamed.
Tanner and Callie waited, not pushing, but he could feel their concern, and it bugged him. Hell, everything was bugging him.
He needed to see Glory.
“It wasn’t until she was on Mill Road that she noticed him.”
Nodding, Tanner drew Callie into his arms. “I agree with my brother. He needs to be there with Glory. She’ll be most comfortable
in her own home, and,” he said, when she tried to object, “we’ll take turns helping out. All of us.”
That was one of the million perks of having a brother. To Callie, he said, “Thank you for understanding,” even though she
hadn’t yet offered her understanding or, from her expression, accepted the decision.
A male nurse stuck his head in the door. “Family of Glory McCallahan?”
Once again, all three of them surged forward.
“Sorry, but only one at a time,” the nurse said.
Tanner, doing him a solid, held Callie back at his side so that Kam was the first in the room. Dread smothered him as he saw
the pulled curtain and heard the beep and buzz of hospital machinery droning in the background.
He hesitated only a second, then said, “Glory?” as he eased the curtain aside. Thank God he’d braced himself. The sight of
her nearly sent him to his knees. One eye was practically swollen shut beneath a neat row of stitches that cut through her
eyebrow. Her cheekbone was swollen, split, and the side of her nose was bruised.
She tried to turn her face away.
“Don’t. I need to see you. To know that you’re going to be okay.”
Her lips, her beautiful lips, drew him, quivering a little as he bent and very gently touched his mouth to hers. “You scared
a decade off my life, babe.”
The back of the bed was raised so that she was practically sitting. Her ribs, he thought, wondering if that position was easier for her. “Are you in pain?”
Her eyes grew liquid. “I didn’t want you to see . . . see me.”