Chapter Seventeen
Russell was still alive. I told myself to think positively, but for so long my escape had felt too good to be true. What if his life was the price fate exacted for my freedom?
I dug my fingers into the pleather of the emergency room’s industrial sofa and bit back the urge to scream. Not only because the nightmare at the barn still held me in its grip an hour later, but also because I was in a hospital again, staring at the sterile walls, having no control of my life.
Libby and Russell were both in ER exam rooms. Russell hadn’t regained consciousness, but he hadn’t died during the attack from Libby’s husband. That was something—everything.
Keith and I managed to drag Russell into the station wagon just as the barn burst into flames.
More than anything, I wanted to cradle his dear head in my lap, but someone had to drive.
Libby was too heavily concussed, and I wasn’t trusting either of the teens behind the wheel, even though Destiny had offered.
I’d forced myself to stop trembling and drive while Libby sat in the passenger side cupping her battered face.
We’d agreed to tell the doctor she’d been injured by a falling beam.
Destiny and Keith piled into the very back.
Fred had almost certainly died, and reaching him in the burning rubble would have been impossible.
Calling for help had been out of the question since the phone had been disconnected in the cabin when Annette died, and Russell’s barn apartment was being consumed by the flames.
By the time we’d raced down the driveway, the barn had collapsed, showering the vehicle with sparks and rumbling the ground beneath the tires.
We didn’t start off with an official pact not to tell anyone about Fred Gordon being in the barn.
It just unfolded that way. First, there was nothing we could do for him, while Russell and Libby needed urgent medical attention.
If—when—the police or fire department questioned the body in the barn, we agreed to mention that drifters sometimes sought shelter in the haystacks.
Another secret that bound us even tighter together.
The hospital had assumed all the injuries came from escaping the barn. Again, we decided to stay silent.
Now Libby was getting X-rays and possibly a CT scan.
A nurse had given us a brief rundown on the care Russell would receive.
But the way they’d wheeled him back quickly told me it was serious.
Then came the news that his right arm and shoulder had been shattered and a lung punctured.
Plus whatever was causing his loss of consciousness.
He had to live. No matter what I needed to do, I couldn’t face the thought of a world that didn’t include Russell.
The antiseptic air stung my nose, and the corner television did little to drown out the PA system and rattle of medical carts.
Luckily, there wasn’t much traffic this late at night, just a couple sleeping tucked against each other and another person listening to music on a portable cassette player with headphones.
I’d called Thea from the nurses’ station to have her look after Destiny, leaving me here with Keith.
He huddled in a chair across from me, his hair slickened and dark from the downpour.
Our drenched clothes had been so covered in soot and mud, one of the nurses had given us green scrubs to wear.
Part of me hadn’t wanted to change, like keeping my own outfit was a way to deny this whole nightmare had happened.
Focusing on comforting Keith would be easier than sitting in my own worries.
I moved the stack of old magazines from the seat next to him and settled into the chair, keeping my voice low.
“I heard what you said back at the barn, but I want you to know none of this is your fault.” Didn’t kids often blame themselves for adult problems?
I wouldn’t allow him to carry any guilt for what Fred had done.
“This lays firmly on your father’s doorstep. ”
“And now he’s dead,” Keith whispered. “Because I called him.”
Shock stunned me silent for a moment. “You did what?”
“I called him a couple of weeks ago,” Keith confessed, each word growing more and more breathless.
“It was my birthday. I gathered up all the change in the house and I went to a pay phone. I called directory assistance for his number and I dialed it.” His eyes were huge.
Pained. He scrubbed his hand over his chest, as if there were an ache too big to soothe. “I did this to Mom. To Russell.”
Keith hung his head, gasping for air, panic and guilt coming off him in waves. To the receptionist checking in patients, he looked like a son worried about his mother.
And he was, of course. But there was so much more to it than that. The poor kid.
“Okay,” I said, rubbing my palm along his back, “take deep breaths. Slowly.”
I needed the reminder as much as he did. How had Libby and I grown so complacent that we hadn’t seen something like this coming?
Keith turned to look at me, the nightmare still fresh in his eyes. “I didn’t give him the address. I swear. But I forgot that the pay phone call might be traced through his telephone carrier when he got his bill. Or maybe I let something else slip. I don’t know anything other than it’s my fault.”
We’d been so careful to keep our location a secret.
I’d worried about the new girl giving us away, but the leak had been closer to home.
I couldn’t bring myself to blame Keith, though.
The weight of our secrets was tough enough for an adult to carry.
I should have thought more about the burden for a child. People said kids were resilient.
I wasn’t so sure about that.
For now, I needed to focus on talking this through with the teen who’d just seen his father die and now was worried about losing his mother.
“You’re right that was a mistake, and it’s one you’ll carry with you.
” Saying otherwise would discredit anything else I told him, and he needed to understand the importance of security in the future.
“But it has to be a secret that remains between us. Forever. Because sharing it with the rest of the world out of some need for forgiveness will only put more people at risk. Including your mother.”
After tonight, with the body in the barn, there was no going back.
Keith scratched his jaw, scrubbing along the peach fuzz. “I didn’t think of that.”
Now came the reassuring, sympathetic part he deserved to hear.
“Life hasn’t been fair to you, Keith.” I still remembered him from the first day so long ago, a small child losing himself in his shiny red View-Master.
“You’ve had to grow up fast more than once, and today is the biggest of those times. ”
“As long as my mom and Russell are okay, nothing else matters to me.”
I squeezed my eyes closed to will back tears before continuing, “I owe you an apology for something I said to you not too long after you arrived in Bent Oak. I’m sorry for telling you that dragons aren’t real.”
He nudged my foot with his toe, then patted my knee in one of those rare teenage shows of affection. “It’s okay. I like the world better your way, where there are people who fight back.”
I struggled for what to say. I wasn’t at my best. But my heart ached for the frightened boy he’d been and the troubled teen he’d become.
The double doors from the exam area swished open, pushing aside all other thoughts from my mind as a doctor walked out in his scrubs that matched ours. A random thought. But my mind was pinballing out of control.
“Family of Russell Davis?” the doctor called.
I didn’t hesitate. I stood. “That’s me.”
A flicker of confusion whispered through the physician’s eyes before his face shifted into professional neutrality, but I didn’t have time to educate him about interracial relationships, so I opted to cut straight to the chase. “I’m Mr. Davis’s fiancée.”
I rested my right hand over my left to hide the bare finger that should have been sporting Annette’s ring, a regret I would face later, provided Russell and I would have a later.
“Of course,” the doctor said, then nodded toward the nurse standing behind him with a clipboard. “We need a relative to sign the surgical consent forms.”
“Surgery?” My voice quavered. In my mind, I could hear false medical advice from my former husband, and I felt sick. “He doesn’t have any living relatives.”
“All right.” He exhaled, taking a seat and waiting for me to sit as well.
“Mr. Davis is still unconscious, and we can’t wait for him to regain consciousness.
We need to stop the internal bleeding and repair the damage to his lung before we can set the broken collarbone.
I wish I had better news or more time to answer the questions I know you must have.
But I need to scrub in while you fill out the paperwork. ”
“Thank you,” I said, standing, trying not to assume this man who held Russell’s life in his hands might be like Phillip.
“I’m going to do my best for him, ma’am.” He patted me on the shoulder before he disappeared back through the double doors.
My legs folded, and I couldn’t breathe. I thought I might be having a heart attack, because my chest felt so tight. I leaned over to put my head between my knees.
I felt a hand on my back and saw the nurse’s shoes as she crouched beside me. “Breathe in, breathe out, slowly. Smell the flowers. Blow out the candle. Smell the flowers. Blow out the candle.”
She continued chanting until the dizziness eased and my breathing slowed. I hadn’t felt this out of control since I lost my child. I’d survived that, barely, but would I be able to withstand another blow? The fear of losing my world—losing Russell—leveled me when he needed me to be strong.
I squeezed my eyes closed and straightened with another deep inhale. “Okay, let’s fill out those papers.”