A Bridge to Love (19 page)

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Authors: Nancy Herkness

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: A Bridge to Love
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“I
gather it's a medical emergency?”

“My
son got his hand mangled by a dog. The local ER did the best they could, but
they want him to see an orthopedic surgeon as soon as possible.” Kate glanced
down at the name and phone number in her hand. “You don't know any doctors on
Long Island, do you?”

Bruce
shook his head. “I stay away from doctors as much as possible.”

The
moment Kate had heard the words “athletes and celebrities” she had known what
she would have to do. A man who knew lieutenant governors would be able to get
Clay in to see a mere orthopedic surgeon. She punched in the number for
directory assistance. Bruce ought to enjoy listening to this phone call, she
thought as she said, “May I have the number for RJ Enterprises in New York
City?” She pushed the auto-dial button. Her pride was going to take a beating,
but that was a small price to pay for Clay's health.

“Randall
Johnson's office, please. This is Kate Chilton.”

Kate
had to take a deep breath as she waited. He had every reason to ignore her
call. He was probably still fuming over her behavior on the dance floor. Maybe
he would think that she was calling to apologize. She felt her throat tighten.

“Hello,
Kate.”

Even
at a time like this, his voice made her nerve endings leap. Kate tried to gauge
his tone, but it was unreadable. “Hello, Randall. I have a favor to ask for
Clay.”

“A
favor?” His tone was distinctly unfriendly now.

“Yes.
Clay's hand was mangled by a dog and the local doctor strongly advises that he
see an orthopedic surgeon on Long Island as quickly as possible. She gave me
the doctor's name, but said that he's not accessible to the average patient. I
wondered if you might be able to help.”

There
was dead silence, and Kate squirmed. She longed to say more but she was very
aware of Bruce Adler's unavoidable eavesdropping. “My boss is driving me home
from a meeting in Connecticut as we speak,” she offered in oblique explanation.

“I
see. Give me the doctor's name and number.”

Kate
let out her breath in a whoosh and read off the information.

“Who's
the doctor who saw him? And at what hospital?”

Kate
told him.

“Give
me your cell phone number. I'll call you back.”

Kate
reeled it off and then softened her voice. “Thank you so much. I am very, very
grateful for your help.”

“Don't
thank me until I see if I can do anything,” he said abruptly and hung up.

Kate
pushed the end button and let her head fall back against the seat in relief.
She had complete faith in Randall's ability to overcome any obstacles. The
thought of how indebted she would be to him was galling, but her concern for
Clay's well-being overwhelmed all other considerations.

“You're
a quick learner,” Bruce commented.

Randall
had cleared his office of three senior staff members when Kate's call came
through. He was looking forward to raking her over the coals without an
audience. Her plea for help had dissipated all his anger and replaced it with
an odd feeling of gratification.

He
should have known that she wouldn't call him at work for a social conversation.
In fact, he gave her a mental salute for what it must have cost her to make
that phone call. Then he smiled smugly at the thought of how obligated she
would feel to him for his help. The situation had some interesting
possibilities.

But
right now, he needed to help out a boy with a serious injury.

“Gail,
tell Joe that I need the car in ten minutes and that he's driving for a change.
I'll be working on the road.”

As
he picked up his cell phone and his Palm Pilot, Randall thought of Clay's
extraordinary sculptures and the delicate welding that was required to create
them. He grabbed his laptop and then strode out of the office.

It
took four calls, but Randall got the surgeon to agree to an immediate
evaluation. Two more phone calls got clearance for Janine to take the
helicopter into the Long Island hospital's helipad. He glanced at his watch as
he dialed Kate's cell phone: forty-two minutes had passed since she called.
Not bad.

“Hello,
Kate. I've got the surgeon lined up as soon as you can get to Long Island
Jewish Hospital.”

“I
can't begin to thank you adequately,” she began.

“You
may not thank me when you hear the rest. The surgeon wants Clay in ASAP so I've
arranged for you to go in via the company helicopter. You just have to drive to
the Fairfield Airport. My pilot, Janine Tanner, will take you from there. I
know you hate to fly, but this will avoid traffic, and I thought that the
circumstances warranted speed.”

He
heard Kate swallow, but her voice was strong. “That's really above and beyond
the call of duty. I hate to put you to all this trouble, but I'll accept your
offer for Clay's sake.”

“Good
girl. Janine will be waiting for you in the airport lounge.”

“Thank
you so much,” she managed to gasp just before he hung up.

She
let the phone drop in her lap as Bruce turned into Denise's driveway.
“Everything's arranged. Thanks so much for driving me here.”

“No
problem. Don't worry about coming into the office. Just keep us posted on your
son's progress.”

Kate
picked up her briefcase and pocketbook, gave Bruce a distracted wave, and raced
into Denise's house.

“Denise,
I'm here. Where's Clay?”

Denise
took Kate's briefcase out of her hand. “He's upstairs sleeping in Robert's
room.”

Kate
took the steps two at a time and then tiptoed into the bedroom. Clay lay
sleeping on his back, with his injured hand lying beside him swathed in gauze
and strapped to a board. He looked pale but peaceful. Kate watched him for a
minute and then brushed a feather-light kiss over his forehead before turning
to leave. She would wake him up after she talked with Denise.

When
she came downstairs, Patrick had appeared from the basement playroom. He dashed
into her arms. “Mom, it was so scary. This strange dog came over and attacked
Thunder for no reason. Clay tried to grab their collars. The dog bit his hand
and wouldn't let go until the lady came out of her house and threw water on
him. I didn't know what to do, so I asked the lady to call Mrs. Costanza since
I knew that you were at the bridge. It wasn't Thunder's fault. He was just
walking along on his leash, and this other dog was loose and jumped on him.”

“It's
okay, Patrick. You did absolutely the best thing to get Mrs. Costanza,” Kate
said, kneeling so that she could hold him and see his face. “Clay will be fine.
I'm going to take him to a doctor on Long Island now. He'll fix up his hand
like new.”

Patrick's
tearstained face relaxed. “His hand looked horrible. You could see the bones.”

Kate
winced. Still holding Patrick, she stood up and turned to Denise. “You are a
true friend to go through all this for me.”

Denise
waved a dismissive hand. “I know that you would do the same for my children.
I'll keep Patrick here while you take Clay in unless you want me to drive you
there.”

“Mom,
I want to go with you and Clay,” Patrick protested.

“I'd
love to have you, sweetheart, but we might be at the hospital for a long time.
You'll be much more comfortable here. Why don't you go back downstairs while I
organize things with Mrs. Costanza.”

Patrick
reluctantly left the adults. “He's going to be even more upset when he finds
out that we're flying to the hospital in a helicopter.”

Denise
whistled. “How'd you manage that?”

Kate
flushed. “Do you remember Randall Johnson?”

“He's
pretty unforgettable.”

“He
pulled some strings for me.”

“I
see.” Denise restrained her curiosity with obvious effort. “You owe me a long
conversation when this is all over.”

“I
owe you a lot more than a long conversation,” Kate said. “But right now, let's
get Clay up and into your car. I need to borrow it, so I can drive to the
Fairfield Airport.”

The
relief on Clay's face when he woke up to see his mother beside him made Kate's
heart twist. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Really
tired. And my hand hurts.”

“I'm
so sorry, love,” she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I'm taking you
to Long Island to get you all fixed up. You'll even get to ride in Mr.
Johnson's helicopter after all.”

Clay
looked confused as Kate helped him sit up. “Why am I riding in Mr. Johnson's
helicopter?”

“Because
the doctor wants to see you as fast as possible, and a helicopter is the
fastest way to get there.”

“Oh.
Okay.” Clay staggered slightly as he stood up, and Kate wrapped her arm around
his waist. “I'm all right, Mom. Just groggy.”

“I'll
just stick by you until we get down the stairs.”

A
look of longing crossed Patrick's face when Kate told him where they were
going, but he said only, “That's really nice of Mr. Johnson to lend you his
helicopter.” Then he took Clay's other hand and squeezed it, saying, “Good
luck. I'll walk the dogs while you're gone.”

Patrick
hugged Kate more fiercely than usual and then walked back to the house with a
backward wave. Kate suspected that he was fighting tears so she let him go.

At
the airport they were greeted by a striking young blond woman who shook Kate's
hand.

“Mrs.
Chilton? I'm Janine Tanner. There's a wheelchair over here for Clay.”

“I
don't need a wheelchair,” Clay protested in embarrassment. “I can walk fine,
really. But thanks.”

Janine
smiled. “Okay, no wheelchair. We've got clearance to go anytime.”

As
they walked across the tarmac to a gleaming silver helicopter with
RJ Enterprises
painted in blue on the
side, Janine spoke. “I understand that you're not a fan of flying, Mrs.
Chilton, so I'll take it easy.”

“I
appreciate your concern, but I want to get Clay to the hospital as quickly as
possible. Do whatever's necessary to make the trip short. And please, call me
Kate.”

“Okay,
Kate, we'll do the Rambo Run,” Janine said, opening the passenger door for
them. “There are headphones on the seats if you want to communicate with me or
listen to my communications. I'll keep you up-to-date on our progress.”

Clay's
eyes lit up and Kate gulped. They climbed into the leather seats, buckled their
seat belts and fitted the headphones on. Kate arranged a pillow under Clay's
injured hand and strapped it down with another seat belt. The rotors began to
turn, and Kate closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. Janine's voice
crackled through the headphones, informing the tower that they were ready for
takeoff. The vibrations increased and suddenly they were airborne, moving
upward and sideways at the same time. Kate took several more deep breaths. Clay
winced as he shifted to look through the window, and Kate fought down her
terror to readjust the pillow.

“This
is so cool, Mom,” Clay said. “I wish Patrick were here.”

“Who's
Patrick?” Janine's voice came through again.

“My
brother. He loves anything that flies.”

“We'll
have to get him up here then. I love anything that flies, too.”

Kate
was pleased to see Clay grin as she rolled her eyes heavenward. Janine gave
Clay a rundown on the helicopter and their route. Kate listened with one ear as
she surveyed the interior. The eight seats were silvery gray and very
comfortable. Each was equipped with a folding table – for keeping up with
paperwork, Kate imagined. The walls and floor were carpeted in a deep blue.
Janine described the location of a built-in cooler stocked with drinks if they
got thirsty and a compact cupboard that held snacks.

“It
should be a nice smooth ride all the way out. How are you doing, Kate?”

“If
I could forget the fact that I'm a couple of thousand feet above ground, it
would be downright pleasant.”

Janine
chuckled. “Only the best for guests of Mr. Johnson's.”

Kate
flinched inwardly at the reminder of whom she had to thank for this ride. She
tried to convince herself that having people flown around in helicopters was
nothing out of the ordinary for Randall Johnson. Nor was making a few well-placed
telephone calls. But she felt almost crushed by her sense of obligation; it
seemed completely beyond her means to repay him. She couldn't even think of
words that would adequately express her gratitude.

The
timbre of the vibrations changed, and just as Kate started to clutch the arms
of her seat in a panic, Janine announced that they were making their descent to
the hospital's helipad. Clay was glued to the window as the helicopter
side-slipped and hovered over the white
H
painted on the building's roof. They touched down so gently that Kate wasn't
sure they had landed.

“We're
here,” Janine said as the door flew open. Several scrub-clad hospital personnel
swarmed around them, putting Clay in a wheelchair, firing questions at him and
at Kate, and rushing them toward the elevator door.

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