Chapter 11
Simeon’s phone dinged with an email, and he scooped it off his desk. He had two minutes before his next appointment, and he’d already heard the bell on the outer door jingle, but he was hoping this was a response from Pastor Mateo in Ecuador.
He smiled as he glimpsed the sender’s name and the first few words of the email: “Yes!!! You are welcome here anytime.”
That was the last detail he’d been working on securing. He’d already bought the plane tickets, and he’d figured he and Abigail could always find somewhere else to stay if Pastor Mateo didn’t have room.
But this would be perfect.
Simeon tucked his phone into his pocket as he stood and opened his office door.
“Good morning, Wendy.”
She immediately jumped to her feet and crossed the small space. “Oh good. You’re here.”
Simeon laughed, ushering her into the office. “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
Wendy took her seat but seemed to be studying him. “So you’re okay?” She tilted her head to the side, as if to show sympathy. But for what, Simeon didn’t know.
“Yes, I’m okay.” Simeon bit back the urge to tell her about his surprise for Abigail. That would be totally inappropriate. He just wanted to tell someone.
You can tell Abigail. Tonight.
Right. Maybe he’d get her flowers again. He’d noticed a beautiful orchid at the flower shop the other day—just like the ones they’d seen growing in Ecuador.
“How are you doing?” Simeon brought his focus back to his client. “You started your new job.”
Wendy nodded, still tilting her head. “I did. I was there this morning, actually, and I could hardly believe—”
Simeon’s phone rang sharply, and he grabbed at his pocket. “I’m so sorry. I usually have my sound turned off . . .” In all the flurry of planning the trip this morning, he must have forgotten. He gave a quick glance at the name on his screen. Zeb.
His brother had never once called him during the workday.
It was probably nothing. Simeon declined the call, then silenced the phone. But before he could put it away, it lit up with Zeb’s name again.
His gut clenched. Something could have happened to Dad. Or Asher, working out in the national park in this rain.
“I’m so sorry. I just need to . . .”
“Of course.” Wendy watched him with a look of concern.
Simeon propelled himself from his seat and into the small lobby and hit answer.
The moment he lifted the phone to his ear, he heard the sirens.
“Zeb. What’s going on?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Zeb!”
“You need to get to the hospital.” Zeb’s voice was rough. “Abigail was in an accident.”
“Abigail . . .” The room twisted around him, like he’d been swept up in a cyclone. “What happened?”
Zeb shouted something in the background, then came back on the phone. “I have to go. They’re taking her to Brampton Memorial. I’ll meet you there.”
“Zeb.” But the sirens cut off and everything went silent.
Simeon held the phone away from his ear. Call ended.
He staggered toward his office and fumbled through his desk for his keys.
“Simeon?”
His head jerked up. “Oh. Wendy. I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Is everything all right?” She stood, moving toward him.
He choked on his answer. “I don’t know.”
Rain pummeled the windshield, making it nearly impossible for Simeon to see. But he pressed his foot harder to the accelerator.
He had to get to his wife.
Oh, please Lord. Abigail. Please let her be okay.
The prayer barely made sense, but Simeon had repeated it a hundred times already. And he’d repeat it a hundred more times. A thousand times. He just needed her to be all right.
He growled as he hit a red light on the outskirts of Brampton. While he was stopped, he dialed Zeb again. But his brother hadn’t answered a single one of his calls.
Because he didn’t want to give Simeon bad news over the phone?
Simeon’s stomach turned over, and he dry heaved once before getting himself under control. Letting his mind go to the worst case scenario wasn’t going to help anything.
The light turned green, and Simeon gunned it through the mid-sized town, screeching into the hospital parking lot and leaving his vehicle in the first spot he came to.
He threw his door open and sprinted through the downpour, dodging a car that nearly ran him down.
Inside the hospital doors, he drew up short. Where would she be?
It only took a moment for his eyes to fall on Zeb. And for his heart to stop.
His strong, stoic, tough-as-they-come brother stood facing the far wall, his head braced on his arm.
Simeon weaved through the maze of chairs in the waiting room, apologizing as he tripped over a small girl’s feet.
“What’s going on? Where is she?” He grabbed his brother’s arm.
Immediately, Zeb straightened, clearing his throat. A line of red rimmed his eyes, and Simeon’s pulse accelerated straight past panic. “Zeb?”
“Abigail’s in surgery now. They said she’ll be all right.”
“Oh, thank you, Lord.” Simeon’s knees gave out, and he grabbed his brother’s arm. “What is she in surgery for?” Please not a head injury.
“She has a broken clavicle. A few broken ribs. A punctured lung.”
Simeon forced himself to breathe. The thought of his wife going through all of that . . .
But it could have been so much worse.
“Thank you, Lord,” he repeated.
And then he remembered. Abigail was supposed to drive Carly to the dress shop.
“Was Carly—”
Zeb gave a short shake of his head before Simeon had finished the question. “She didn’t make it.”
The words sucked the air right out of Simeon’s lungs. They couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be happening. Zeb and Carly had been together since high school. They were having a baby.
Simeon’s insides heaved. “The baby?” he whispered.
Zeb shook his head. “I’m going to get some coffee. I’ll find a nurse to get you an update on Abigail.”
“Zeb.” Simeon tightened his grip on his brother’s arm, but Zeb shrugged easily out of it and strode away from him.
Simeon gazed helplessly around the waiting room. All these years of helping others through their tragedies.
And he had no idea how to face his own.