Angel's Rest (25 page)

Bob Carson said, “Let’s get her inside and we can tend to her out of the cold.”

“I don’t know,” LaNelle responded. “Maybe we shouldn’t move her.”

Nic’s eyes fluttered open again and she struggled to sit up, grimacing in pain. “Oh, that hurts.”

“What hurts, dear?” Celeste asked.

“My whole leg.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. Can someone call Alton Davis to drive the ambulance?”

That finally propelled Sage out of her stupor. “No!”

She strode the last few steps forward and all but pushed the banker out of the way, then knelt beside Nic. “Call for CareFlight.”

Celeste met her gaze with a wide-eyed look. “The baby?”

“I’m not as worried about the baby as I am about Nic. She was out for a couple of minutes. Nauseated. We need to make sure she doesn’t have a blunt force trauma injury, and time is of the essence.” Glancing up at Celeste, she said, “Will you make the call?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll do it,” Bob Carson offered. “I have the number posted in my office.”

While Bob hurried off, Sage first checked Nic’s head for a lump and was glad to find a large goose egg. Better that it swelled outwardly rather than inwardly. She studied her friend’s eyes and was gratified to see the pupils react to light. Next, with methodical, practiced motions, she went to work on the bloody injury on Nic’s left leg. Using the scissors from the first-aid kit, she sliced open the bloody pant leg, revealing a deep gash and a swollen knee and ankle. Sage winced. The cut would need stitches.

Nic groaned, then a moment later, exclaimed in a panicked tone. “The baby!”

She’s thinking again. That’s good
. “Any cramping?”

Nic moved a hand to cover her stomach. “No.”

“I saw you fall, honey. Watched you hit. The baby should be fine. How’s your head? Pain? Throbbing?”

“Yeah.” She lifted a fearful but clear gaze toward Sage. “You really think the baby’s okay?”

“I do.” With practiced movements, Sage cleaned the cut. “This needs stitches, Nic.”

Nic’s voice emerged thready and weak. “Great. Get LaNelle to do it. Her stitches are prettier than mine.”

“I think it can wait until you reach Gunnison.” Sage wrapped gauze around her friend’s leg and covered it with a pressure bandage.

“You’re very good at that, Sage,” Celeste observed. “Maybe you can fill in for Nic at the clinic.”

Not hardly
. “No way. My Girl Scout nursing badge only takes me so far. Besides, I heard about that wounded ram Nic treated yesterday. She’s crazy.”

“I’m freezing.” Nic shuddered, and her teeth began to chatter. “My pants are soaked through. Can you help me stand up?”

LaNelle asked, “I could bring my car around, get her
out of the cold. We need to transport her to the helipad, anyway.”

“Thanks, LaNelle,” Sage said, tugging off her own coat and wrapping it around her friend. “That’d be great.”

When it was just the two of them, Sage asked, “Still no cramps, honey?”

“No.” Nic’s teeth tugged at her lower lip. “She’s okay, don’t you think? She has to be okay.”

“She’s small yet. You didn’t hit your tummy. I don’t think you need to worry. Besides, any child of yours is bound to be strong.”

“That’s a nice thing for you to say.” Nic tried to smile, but it appeared more like a grimace. “I don’t feel good.”

“Your head? Are you nauseated?”

“My leg.”

It wasn’t the leg that worried her. With that thought in mind, she reached for Nic’s purse. “You still carry a pen and notepad in here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to write a note for the ER doctor. I want to make sure he takes good care of you. Do you want us to let Gabe know what happened?”

“Yes. Thanks, Sage. You’re a good friend.”

No. Actually, she wasn’t. A good friend wouldn’t have stood back and left her bleeding in the street, untreated.

Not when once upon a time, said friend had been a surgeon.

Gabe Callahan hated hospitals. He hated the smell of them, the sounds in them, the physical and emotional pain that filled them from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. As he parked his car and rushed inside the medical facility in Gunnison, he said a silent prayer that this particular hospital visit would be as short as Sage had promised
it would be when he arrived at Eagle’s Way and found her sitting on the front porch, a tote bag at her side.

From there, it had been a mad dash on the twisting, turning mountain road. Two hours in which to worry, remember, and brood.

“Nicole Sullivan?” he asked the middle-aged woman wearing a volunteer badge seated at the front desk.

She frowned. “I’m sorry. We don’t have a patient named Sullivan.”

“What? You … oh …” He silently cursed his stupidity. “Callahan. Nic Callahan. She arrived on CareFlight from Eternity Springs.”

“Ah.” She pointed down the hallway to the right. “She’s in room twelve.”

Gabe nodded his thanks, then strode down the hall toward Nic’s room. The door was partially open. He peeked inside and saw her reclining in bed, wearing a hospital gown and flipping through a magazine. He rapped on the door with his knuckles. “Hey there, pretty lady. Hear you had a hard landing.”

“Gabe!” Nic’s expression brightened, then she offered him a rueful grin. “I get this month’s clumsy award.”

He strode into the room and gave her a thorough once over. He could tell by her eyes that she was tired and in pain, and he hurt for her. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, he took her hand in his. His tone serious now, he asked, “How are you, Nic?”

She thumbed the control on her bed and raised herself to a seated position. “I’m okay. Nothing is broken. Knee and ankle are both sprained, ankle worse than the knee. I didn’t jar my tummy.”

“Sage said you had a concussion.”

“Yeah. I got a lecture in the ER about the danger of neglecting blows to the head, but everything checked out okay. They want to keep me for another hour for
observation, but then I can go home. Can I hitch a ride with you?”

“Absolutely.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then released it and sat back. “Sage described what happened. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”

“I know. I was scared about the pregnancy there for a while. Believe me, I’m going to be much more careful from now on. Especially since I’m going to be on crutches for a few weeks.” She closed the magazine she’d been reading, and set it on the bed tray. “Now, tell me what’s up with you. How is Will?”

Gabe drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. He’d been so consumed with worry that it took him a moment to adjust to the change of subject. “First, are you telling me everything? Is there anything we need to be concerned about?”

He tensed when she hesitated before saying, “You know about all my injuries. I promise. I’ll be just fine in a few weeks. Now, tell me about your brother-in-law.”

Hmm. Why did he think she wasn’t telling him everything? Unwilling to press the point right now, he responded to her request. “Better. Much better. This has been a wake-up call for him. He’s always been a workaholic, but this scared him enough to make some lifestyle changes.”

A rap on the door caused them both to look up. A woman wearing a lab coat entered the room saying, “Nic, I have those photos you requested.”

Gabe didn’t miss the nervous glance Nic shot him before saying, “Thanks, Liz. Gabe, this is my obstetrician, Dr. Elizabeth Marshall. Liz, my husband, Gabe Callahan.”

“Nice to meet you,” the doctor said, shaking his hand. Handing Nic the photos, she added, “I know this was a scare for you today, but your wife and babies are doing just fine.”

From the corner of his eye, Gabe saw Nic grimace. Why would she … His heart began to pound and his eyes flew open wide. “Excuse me? Did you just say …?”

The doctor pursed her lips in dismay. Looking at Nic, she asked, “Did I speak out of turn?”

“He just got here a few minutes ago.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “Nic?”

She tried to smile, but it was a sickly effort at best. “I had a sonogram today.” She held up the pictures. “Gabe, we’re having twins.”

He exhaled as if she’d punched him in the gut and closed his eyes. Twins. He dropped his chin to his chest. Twins. He leaned over, propped his elbows on his knees, and cradled his head in his hands. Twins.

His stomach rolled and his skin grew clammy. Without saying a word to the women, he rose and walked into the room’s bathroom, where he turned on the cold water, leaned over, and splashed his face for a full minute. Then he shut off the water, gave his head a shake, and looked up, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He was as white as the snow atop Sinner’s Prayer Pass. “Twins,” he murmured.

“You’re not going to faint, are you, Mr. Callahan?” Dr. Marshall asked from the doorway. “We don’t want you to bang your head today, too.”

“I’m fine,” he lied, grabbing a white hand towel off a towel bar and wiping his face. He replaced the towel, took a bracing breath, and exited the bathroom.

Nic watched him with an anxious expression, her hands clasped and resting protectively over her stomach. Was she worried he’d be upset? Angry? Maybe he would get angry later—at fate, not at Nic—but right now he was too numb for that.

Twins. Double the risk. Double the responsibility.

Double the potential loss.

Great. Just great.

He addressed the obstetrician. “Do you have any special instructions for Nic I should know about? Any limits to her activities?”

“Only those dictated by common sense. She’s now classified by my office as a high-risk pregnancy, but don’t let that worry you. It’s the norm for all my moms carrying multiples, and it means we’ll follow her a little more closely, see her more often, do a few more tests. You can probably plan that she’ll deliver early.”

“Here at this hospital? Does she need to be at a neonatal center?”

“Not unless problems develop later on. I’ve given Nic a packet of literature to take home. It’ll answer most of your questions, and of course you’re always welcome at her prenatal appointments.”

A pager’s beep sounded from the doctor’s lab coat pocket. She checked the message, then said, “I’ve got to go. Nic, I’ll see you in two weeks. You be careful on those crutches, you hear?”

“I will, Liz. Thanks.”

Silence descended on the hospital room in the doctor’s wake. Nic plucked at a loose thread on the blanket on the bed while Gabe stuck his hands in his pockets, rocked on his heels, and tried to come up with something to say.

Finally Nic blew out a heavy breath and said, “This is awkward, isn’t it? Gabe, I’m not going to say I’m sorry, because that would be like wishing away the existence of one of my children. I will say I’m sorry you learned about it this way. I seem to have fallen into a habit of shocking you.”

“Life around you is certainly not boring.”

“That probably won’t change anytime soon.” She stared down at the sonogram images that her doctor had given her. “Twins. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.”

He could definitely relate to that. He looked away from both her and the photos and cleared his throat. “The good thing is we have some time to get used to it.”

Which meant he didn’t have to think about it anymore right now. He really, really didn’t want to think about it anymore right now.

“So there’s probably paperwork that needs to be signed so you can get sprung.” He escaped toward the door, saying, “Let me see if I can do anything to speed it up.”

An hour later, they were on the road headed for Eternity Springs. Like the last time they’d made the drive from Gunnison, the mood between them was tense rather than relaxed, their conversation stilted rather than easy—absolutely not what Gabe had hoped for in the aftermath of their trip to California. When Nic fell asleep twenty minutes into the ride, Gabe breathed a little easier. Unfortunately, he also started thinking.

Today’s events had definitely changed his plans.

He had returned to Eternity Springs with a strategy in mind for managing this marriage. He’d decided to remain at Eagle’s Way until he found a place closer to town to buy. He figured he’d ask Nic out to dinner, spend time with her at town events, take things slow.

Gabe had done a lot of soul-searching during his weeks away from Nic. Intellectually, he understood that he wasn’t cheating on Jennifer by having sex with another woman. Emotionally, he wasn’t there yet.

The accident had complicated the mourning process; sex and guilt were interwoven in his brain. It was life and death and responsibility for death, for Jen’s death. How could he enjoy sex—one of life’s best gifts—when his wife lay in her grave and he was the one who’d put her there?

He’d thought about Nic and the marriage a lot while he’d been gone. The trip to California had been an eye-opener
for him. His wife was smart, definitely sexy, and fun to be with. He admired her loyalty, her enthusiasm, and her determination. In another time, another life, he could have fallen for her.

That, in a nutshell, was the problem. While he could envision a time when the physiology of basic human drives might overcome his reluctance to engage in sex, he was dead solid certain he’d never again open his heart to love.

And Nic deserved to be loved.

He glanced over at her. Even in sleep, the strains of the day showed on her face. She probably still had a headache, and he knew her leg was hurting. She’d refused to take any more than the mildest of painkillers and even then had to be reassured multiple times that they posed no threat to the babies.

Babies. Jesus
.

Now he had three people whose lives he could screw up.

He couldn’t love Nic. He couldn’t love those babies. He thought Nic’s issues with her own father skewed her thinking about what was best for the children she carried. She’d have been better off showing him the door and finding a guy who could give her the love she deserved, who would love her little ones like his own. Nic would have been better off looking elsewhere for a dad for her children, a husband with whom to create a family. Nevertheless, she hadn’t, and it was a waste of time to look backward now.

Looking backward was a bad idea all around. That’s why he resisted Pam’s suggestion that he see a shrink. He had no desire to lie on a doctor’s couch and babble about the losses in his past. He had no desire to tear down the walls that he’d spent a lifetime constructing. Been there, done that, and look where it had gotten him—on his knees in the snow on a mountain a twitch
away from eating his gun. He’d let Jennifer breach the walls around his heart. He couldn’t, wouldn’t go there again with Nic.