Chapter 12
“Abigail?”
Where was that voice coming from? It sounded so far away. But so loud.
She tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy.
“Abigail.”
The voice sounded urgent, and she felt like she should respond. Tell whoever it was that she wanted to sleep a little longer.
She managed to pry her lids open a slit.
“Abigail! I’m here, sweetheart.” That loud voice again.
Her eyes refused to focus properly, but she was pretty sure that was a man standing over her. She couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying.
Did she know him?
She tried to place his face, but her eyelids refused to cooperate any longer.
“You rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Lips touched her forehead, and she caught a fresh, earthy scent. She wanted to ask the man why he was kissing her.
But she was so tired.
She would figure it out when she woke up.
Simeon stared at the words of his Bible, blurred in front of him. He blinked to clear his vision, then glanced at the time. 10 p.m. He felt like he’d lived a dozen lifetimes today.
There was the before.
Planning the trip to Ecuador.
Counseling patients.
Then there was the call.
The ride here. The praying and pleading.
The shock of learning Carly hadn’t made it.
The waiting. Talking to Dad and his siblings, who had gathered to be with them.
The relief of the doctor finally telling him that Abigail was out of surgery and would be fine.
And then more waiting at her bedside.
The rejoicing when she’d opened her eyes.
And more waiting when they’d closed again.
Simeon shifted his gaze back to his Bible. He’d always found his greatest comfort in the Psalms, and he directed his clients to them often. He’d been reading through them for the past hour, and his eyes fell now on Psalm 46. Exhaustion swirled the words together on the page, and he wasn’t sure they were getting through to him anymore. Until he came to verse 10: “Be still and know that I am God.”
Simeon looked at Abigail’s still form, blinking hard against the sudden moisture that sprang to his eyes.
Be still.
That was what he needed to do. Be still and trust in the Lord.
He closed his Bible and reached a hand to hold Abigail’s, lowering his head carefully onto the bed next to her and letting his eyes close. He would be still and wait. Wait on Abigail. And wait on the Lord.
He drifted in a half-sleep until a low moan brought his head up. “Abigail?”
Her eyes were open wide, and she swiveled her head around the room.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” Simeon stroked her hand.
“I don’t—” Her voice was raspy, and Simeon stood and filled a paper cup with water, dropping a straw into it. He held it in front of her mouth. She hesitated a moment but then took a long drink.
He set it on the table, then just looked at her, his heart filling with all the things he had to tell her. “Oh, Abigail. I thought I’d lost you.” He reached to brush her hair off her forehead. “I don’t know what—”
She flinched as his hand made contact with her skin.
“I’m sorry. Did that hurt?” He peered at the spot, looking for any sign of a bruise or swelling.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Oh. Good.” He wrapped his hand around hers. “Do you remember what happened?” he asked gently.
She shook her head again, pulling her hand out of his. Simeon tried not to be hurt. This was a lot for her to process.
“You were driving to the dress shop, and it was raining. Zeb says it looks like you swerved and skidded out. The car went over the side—” His voice gave out, and it took a minute before he could finish. “Honey, I’m so sorry to tell you, but Carly didn’t make it.”
Abigail blinked at him. “Who’s Carly?”
Simeon sat on the chair at Abigail’s bedside, a hard thump echoing up at him as his Bible fell to the floor. He tried not to panic.
She was probably still confused from the anesthetic. It wasn’t that uncommon.
“She’s Zeb’s wife, remember? You two were on your way to pick out bridesmaid dresses for Lydia and Liam’s wedding.”
Abigail turned away from him to look at the ceiling. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Abigail.” Simeon stood again and took her hand. “Look at me.”
She did.
“Do you know me?” He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing through his rising unease.
She studied him with a bland expression, then shook her head and pulled her hand out of his. “No. Should I?”
Simeon pressed his fists to his head and turned away from her, forcing himself to keep his composure.
It was just the effects of the anesthesia. It was temporary. He turned back to her, pressing the call button on her bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“It’s okay. I’m going to have the doctor come in and take a look at you.”
Abigail yawned and closed her eyes. “I thought you were the doctor.”
“No.” Simeon swallowed around the fear clogging his throat. “I’m your husband.”
But Abigail’s only response was the deep breath he recognized as her real sleep.