9. Snowed In
9
Snowed In
C HAPTER NINE
Daniel
The crackling fire cast a warm glow across the room, flickering shadows dancing on the walls. Joseph’s snores filled the air intermittently as he dozed in his old recliner. Roz and I sat by the fire, the only source of light and warmth in the darkened house, except for a small candle left burning in the kitchen.
“Looks like we’re in for quite a storm,” Roz remarked, her green eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re stuck here until it passes, Doctor.”
I chuckled softly, allowing myself a rare smile in this intimate setting. “Safety first, right?” Why I was lecturing her on safety was beyond me. She, unlike the women I’d known before, seemed entirely capable of managing her own safety.
“Absolutely,” she agreed, tossing another log onto the fire. “Can’t have our esteemed doctor getting snowed in somewhere else.”
Joseph snorted in his sleep, causing us both to stifle laughter. The atmosphere was cozy, despite the howling wind outside. I relaxed, the weight of my usual responsibilities muffled by the storm’s barricade.
“Tell me, Daniel,” Roz leaned in, her expression curious. “What’s the most unusual thing you’ve ever seen as a doctor?”
I thought back, memories flooding my mind. “Well, there have been many. Especially during my residency. But, I had a patient once who claimed she’d swallowed a diamond ring. She was pretty upset, I remember. Kept yelling at her boyfriend. After we’d taken x-rays and run an MRI, it turned out to be a false alarm. Her boyfriend found the ring under his couch, where it had rolled to after falling out of the cake he’d had it baked in. I’m pretty sure he won’t ever try something like that again.” I added with a chuckle at the memory.
Roz laughed, her melodic voice filling the room. “Sounds like it’s a wild ride in your line of work.”
“There’s rarely a dull moment,” I admitted, watching the firelight dance in her bright green eyes.
As the night wore on, surrounded by the crackling fire and the gentle snores of Joseph, I felt a sense of peace settle over me unlike any I’d felt before. Especially during the holidays. For the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to simply enjoy the company of another, grateful for the warmth and humor they brought into my life.
The fire crackled in the cozy living room, casting a warm glow over Roz’s face as she grinned at me.
“We’re running low on wood. Where do you keep it stored?” I asked, glancing towards the dwindling stack by the fireplace.
Roz nodded, her eyes sparkling. “It’s burning fast in this frigid weather. Help me bring in another load from the porch? I wouldn’t want our esteemed doctor freezing out there.”
Together, we ventured out onto the front porch, the icy wind nipping at our cheeks. Rosalind loaded my arms with a stack of cut wood from the pile in the corner, her hand briefly touching mine in the process. And as I looked into her eyes, her lips quirked in a slow smile.
“You seem to be a pro at this storm prepping. Does this happen every year?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, we get snow every year, but some winters are tougher than others.” She led me back into the house. As I stood next to the fire, she transferred the wood pile in my arms, one by one, to its proper place by the fire.
“Have you ever been snowed in like this before?” Roz asked, her breath forming misty clouds in the crisp air now that the fire had gone down. I watched as she expertly rekindled the embers and the fire flared anew.
“Once or twice that I remember,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips. “It’s all part of the New York winter charm, I suppose. But I also remember some storms that came and went before I got off duty. In my early days.”
“I’ll bet, and I suppose you’re right. It’s part of the New York charm. Do you miss your place in the city? Or your practice?” She asked, curiosity plain in her voice, though her face turned towards the fire as she added more wood.
“I do, sometimes. I have a beautiful apartment on the fifteenth floor of my building. The views of Central Park and the surrounding city are … indescribable.” I shook my head as I closed my eyes and pictured standing in front of those windows, looking out over the city.
She smiled, turning to look at me. “I can imagine it must be stunning. How about your practice? Don’t you have patients waiting for your return?”
“In theory, yes. But the lawsuit resulted in a temporary suspension of my license. They rescheduled all my surgeries with other surgeons. Even though I won the lawsuit, it will take time to rebuild my reputation and my practice. If I decide to do that.” I added.
“What else would you do but return to your practice?” She asked, surprised by my response.
“My mother would like to retire, and she’s pushing me to take over our family holdings. I would have to give up my practice entirely, at least at some point, since it’s a full-time job. My father’s business interests were diverse when he ran the businesses, and they’ve only grown since my mother took over.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
I sighed. “That’s what I came here to figure out. I loved being a surgeon when I felt part of that group. But now that I’m on the outside, I’m not sure I can go back. I could go into general practice, though, if I want to remain a doctor. General practice or my family business seems to be the two top options.”
“You could open a general practice here, but I doubt you’d make much money. Not enough people, even though I know everyone would love to have you, and there’s a clinic just waiting for someone to take it over.”
“Linda said something about that to me the other day. But, like you said, it probably wouldn’t be enough to make a living.”
She nodded and sighed. And the room fell silent as we both got lost in our own thoughts.
I must’ve fallen asleep, because Mack’s insistent barking jolted me awake hours later. I blinked, looking blearily around, and realized Roz’s side of the couch was empty.
“Roz?” I called out, my heart skipping a beat as I scanned the room again.
Mack sprinted towards the door, pawing frantically at it. I followed him, the worry knotting in my stomach. Where had she gone in the wee hours of the morning? As the cold started seeping up from my feet, I looked at the fire and realized we’d run out of wood.
“Tell me she didn’t go outside to get wood by herself?” I asked the Beagle as I reached the door. Quickly pulling on my boots and jacket, I let the dog go out before me.
The wind still howled outside, and small snow drifts covered the front deck. I stumbled onto the porch, the icy planks crunching under my boots. “Roz, where are you?” My voice echoed in the chilly space.
Mack raced down the front steps, where I could see something dark lay in the snow.
I hurried towards the spot, my heart pounding with worry. There she was, sprawled on the ground, a fallen angel in the snow and ice. “Roz!” I kneeled beside her, checking for any visible injuries.
Relief flooded through me as I felt her pulse steady beneath my fingertips. Mack wagged his tail, a silent sentinel watching over us both. “Good boy, Mack. You saved the day.”
Cold air nipped at my cheeks. She’d only donned a sweater before coming out, and it was dusted with snowfall. Her face was pale against the white landscape. “Stay with me, Roz. I’m here,” I whispered, trying to soothe her, even in her unconscious state.
“Thank you,” I murmured to Mack, as I moved him out of the way so I could bend close to her face. The trust in the dog’s eyes warmed my heart, a silent understanding passing between us. “I owe you one, buddy.”
“Roz, can you hear me?” I gently brushed a lock of hair from her face, hoping for a response. Then I picked her up and carried her back into the house, with Mack following at my heels. I gently laid her body down as close to the fireplace as I could, then called to Joseph.
“Joseph!” My voice rang out through the cozy living room, urgency lacing every syllable. The fire had nearly died, the embers casting only dark shadows on the walls. “I need your help here.”
“Daniel? What … what happened?” Joseph’s gravelly voice cut through the tension, worry etched in his tone. I met his cloudy eyes, conveying the seriousness of the situation in my voice. “Roz took a nasty fall outside. She has a head injury, and we need to stop this bleeding,” I explained, my hands still applying pressure to the wound.
“Let me get the first aid kit,” Joseph replied promptly, then turned swiftly away. I watched him go, a sense of gratitude washing over me for his quick response. Rosalind’s well-being was paramount, and the dark would not delay him from finding what we needed.
“Roz, you’re going to be okay,” I whispered, my fingers trembling slightly as I maintained pressure on the wound. The scent of burned wood filled the air, mixing with the coppery tang of blood. I couldn’t afford to lose focus now.
When Joseph hurried back with the first aid kit and some washcloths, I thanked him, my focus unwavering on Rosalind’s injuries.
“We need to get the fire going and boil some water.” I placed one cloth under her head. “Can you hold this while I bring in more firewood?” I asked him. The last thing we needed was another slip and fall on that icy deck. I wouldn’t ask him to get the wood.
“Of course.” He replied as he struggled a little to get down on the floor. His old joints no doubt complaining.
I returned to the porch and quickly gathered more wood for the fire, being careful not to slip on the slick surface myself.
Then I set down the logs, and added more wood to the fire, stoking it to speed up the process.
“OK, Joseph. I can take over here.” I said as I pulled him up and took his place next to Rosalind, holding the washcloth to her head.
“Can you boil some water for me? I’m going to clean this up.” My voice remained calm, but laced with urgency. Opening the kit with one hand, I carefully laid out the antiseptic and sterile instruments I’d need after the wound had been cleaned.
Then I held her hand and waited for the water.
“Ready for this, Doc?” Joseph asked, handing me a clean cloth and a bowl of hot soapy water.
“Yes, thank you.” I replied, my tone steady. With a deep breath, I began cleaning Rosalind’s wound. The bleeding had stopped, so I was careful not to scrub too hard. Then I followed with the antiseptic.
Putting a sterile pad on the lump, I wrapped her head with an ace bandage. With nothing else to do while the storm raged outside, I continued holding her hand, occasionally talking to her.
The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, painting a warm glow over Rosalind’s serene face. I sat by her side, her hand in mine, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. “It’s time to wake up now, Roz.” I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur.
Joseph’s gruff voice broke through the quiet, his milky eyes fixed on his granddaughter. “She’s got more spirit than a tempest at sea, my girl does, and she’ll pull through.” His voice was firm, but I heard the slight tremor at the end, and I knew he was worried.
Watching Joseph, and seeing the worry etched in the lines of his face, I felt compelled to ease his burden. “She’s been through a lot tonight,” I admitted, my gaze returning to Rosalind. “But she’s a fighter, that’s for sure.”
“She’s got the Copenhagen grit in her, no doubt about it,” Joseph huffed, a hint of pride in his voice. “Just like her grandmother, bless her soul.”
A soft chuckle escaped me, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at Joseph’s words. “It seems like stubbornness runs in the family then,” I remarked, trying to hold back a smile.
Joseph let out a hearty laugh, a sound that filled the room with warmth. “Stubbornness or resilience, Daniel, it depends on how you look at it,” he replied, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “But one thing’s for certain. My girl is a fighter.”
I nodded in agreement, grateful for Joseph’s presence and his unwavering faith in Rosalind. Together, we sat in companionable silence, our hearts united in the shared hope for her swift recovery.
The minutes stretched into an eternity, each second heavy with anticipation. I found myself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, my mind racing with scenarios and outcomes, all leading back to the woman lying before us.
Although we barely knew each other, I should’ve told her how much I appreciated everything she’d done for me, and how much I enjoyed and looked forward to her company. Why did we always hold back even the simple things we wanted to say?
“Come on, Roz,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. “Time to wake up and show us that stubborn spirit of yours.”
And then, like a shaft of sunlight breaking through the clouds, Rosalind stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing those bright green eyes filled with confusion most of all.
Relief washed over me, mingling with gratitude and a glimmer of hope. I hadn’t realized until I saw her wake, how afraid I’d been at the thought of losing her.
“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” I breathed out, my voice coming out slightly choked as I squeezed her hand gently.
But I sighed with joy in my heart, as I realized she was back.
I’d been given another chance.