Code Triage (36 page)

“At the hospital.”

“I thought you were only working two hours today.”
Then we’d planned to go to court together, stop the divorce . . .

“I had to work a little longer. But then there was something else . . .”

Her expression made his pulse quicken. “What is it? What happened?”

“Sam.”

Nick groaned. “She has no right to harass you.”

“No. I mean she had a medical problem. A severe allergic reaction to a new antibiotic. I was there when it happened.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yes. But it was life threatening. I had to do an emergency crike.”

“You mean . . . ?”

“Her throat swelled so fast that I couldn’t get a tube in through her mouth. Or nose. An anesthesiologist wasn’t available. She went into shock and lost consciousnesses. I had no choice—it was her only chance. I made an incision and inserted the tube through her neck.”

He struggled to understand. “When did this happen?”

“Not long after you left. I was in the unit seeing another patient, and . . .” She nodded quickly. “Anyway, she’s okay. She’s conscious and stable now. The reaction is under control. Dr. Bartle ought to be taking the tube out soon. There shouldn’t be any complications.”

“You saved her life,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around it.

“That’s what she does.” Maria set her book down and peered at him. “She’s a doctor. And you’re a policeman. You both help people.” She shook her head like she shouldn’t have to explain such things. Then she yawned and returned to her book.

When he turned back to Leigh, there were tears in her eyes.

“It’s strange,” she said, glancing toward the partition that separated the trailer. Tag’s munching filled the short stretch of silence. “You went to help my horse, and I was there with . . .”

“Toby’s sister.” He met her eyes, the enormity of it still too much to take in. “Does she understand what you did for her?”

A look he couldn’t read passed across her face. She glanced away. “You should call her. She probably can’t talk on the phone yet, but you could leave a message with the nurses. I’m sure she’d want to know you’re thinking of her. She’s had a lot to deal with . . . for a long time.”

“Okay,” he whispered, thinking mostly of Leigh.
Lord, help me. Help me understand all of this.

They were quiet for a long while, the absence of words filled by the rumble of the trailer moving over the road, Tag’s chewing, and Maria’s soft snoring. The storybook slid from her hands and Nick set it on a bale of straw. The book’s cover showed Jesus surrounded by children.

“She called you?” Leigh asked.

“I’m still shocked. She said she knew I’d come because Frisco’s part of my family. And families should always help each other.” He smiled at Leigh. “That’s pretty incredible after all she’s been through. She’s an amazing kid.”

“You’re pretty amazing yourself. Caro told me how she saw the four of you walking out there. She said you looked like a pro.” Leigh pointed to the shoulder of his black polo shirt. “I think the dried slobber proves it. I hope Frisco didn’t bite you.”

“No. I think you might say we bonded.” He grimaced. “But don’t expect me to be applauding for manure.”

Leigh laughed. “I won’t. That’s above and beyond the call of duty.”

He shook his head. “This is weird, you know. Here you are running off with your horse again, but I’m here too this time.” He glanced at her and saw her smile fade, knew he’d said the wrong thing. “I’m sorry, Leigh—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

He wondered if she did. If she ever could.

+++

Riley walked toward the SICU, telling herself that the TV news clip—a national item flashed between continuing coverage of the hospital shooting—had nothing to do with her. Houston police were investigating the case of a twenty-three-year-old woman, found strangled . . .
in a vacant condo, not a hospital parking garage. A Realtor, not a nurse.
She gritted her teeth, refusing to smell the concrete of that hospital stairwell, feel the suffocation of those hands squeezing her throat. The Houston police had arrested a suspect, the nephew of a U.S. senator, the only reason the story had gone national. There was no reason for Riley to think it was in any way related to her assault. But she was certain it had prompted her parents’ e-mail:
“Sweetheart: Missing you, as always, but thankful you’re there doing work you enjoy, making new friends, continuing your physical therapy. Your father and I know, more than ever before, that it’s what’s best for now.”

But was it really?

She drew in a slow breath and pushed open the door to the SICU, then crossed to Sam Gordon’s room. She was sitting upright, oxygen in place and a large Band-Aid on her neck.

“They say I can talk, if I promise to whisper,” she said, her voice hoarse and hushed. “I’m not sure how much of that is medical and how much is nurses’ revenge. They’re pretty sick of my tirades.” A grim smile did nothing to hide the sadness in her eyes.

“You had rough afternoon, I hear.”

“In spades.”

Riley stepped closer. Sam’s eyes were swollen, red, her lashes wet; less to do with the allergic reaction, more to do with . . .
She’s been crying.

Sam glanced down at a small photograph she held in her lap. “Leigh Stathos saved my life. Did you know that?”

“I heard,” Riley said, remembering the shell-shocked look on Leigh’s face as she told her the story.

“I keep thinking—” her finger brushed over the photograph—“that if I’d died, my little girl would have been alone. Right now some overworked county staffer could be making decisions to put her in temporary foster care.” Sam shook her head. “Like I’ve done so many times for other women’s children.”

Riley nodded silently.
Praise God Leigh was here.

Sam’s lips pressed together. “I called her here to gloat over something I’d done to destroy her marriage—stick it to her one last time.” She gave a short, raspy laugh. “I suppose you thought God sent her.”

Riley smiled.

“I’ve never been good with the idea of God. But I believed in Nick.” The Band-Aid bobbed as she swallowed. “He was going to be everything for us. And I would have done anything to have him. Leigh knew that. But now . . .”

“You feel differently?”

“I’m . . .” Sam’s eyes shone with sudden tears. “I’m confused, I guess. Grateful and empty at the same time. I miss my brother more than I ever have. My sister-in-law is watching Elisa; she wants me to move to Sunnyvale when I’m released. I think I’ll do that. She and her children are the only family we have and we need one right now. You know?”

Riley exhaled. “I do. I miss my family too.”

Sam was quiet for several seconds, brushed at a tear. “Thank you for listening.” She shook her head. “And for not bringing God into all of this.”

Riley rested her hand over Sam’s. “I’m glad to help,” she said, thinking how fortunate it was that the true Healer didn’t always wait for an invitation.

And that maybe he was telling Riley it was time for her to go home.

+++

Leigh shifted on the straw to rest her head against the wall of the trailer, feeling the vibration of the road beneath them and thinking of what Nick had said about her running away with her horse. Running away, period. She knew he wasn’t just referring to her move to Pacific Point last December; he’d meant the space Leigh had always required in their relationship. Like this last week, when life—and death—crowded in around her and she escaped to the stables. She’d sat there and wondered what it would be like to sleep there, to lie in that peaceful place. Leigh glanced at Nick and Maria. They were both asleep now, the little girl leaning against him, her braid trailing along his shoulder. Dozing in the straw, lulled by the soft sounds of the animals, the scent of hay, warm horseflesh, gentle breathing. A moving stables.

Nick was here. And wasn’t that what she’d wanted, what she’d agreed to when she’d said she wanted to give their marriage a second chance? Wasn’t that what she’d be doing right now if Sam hadn’t told him about the miscarriage?

“Dr. Leigh?” Maria lifted her head from Nick’s shoulder.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Do you and Mr. Nick have kids?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Maria reached for her book and pulled it into her lap. Her fingertips, sparkling with glitter polish, brushed over the drawing of the children gathered around Jesus.
“Let the little children come to me . . .”
Leigh glanced at the scars on Maria’s arms.

“He was there,” Maria whispered. “Jesus.”

“Where?”

“At my house. That night the man hurt my mother. He kept me safe . . . and he took Mama to heaven.”

Leigh’s heart cramped.

“Jesus is always here,” Maria continued. “We’re his family and he loves us. We don’t have to be afraid, because he’ll always be here, no matter what.” She smiled, dark lashes blinking. “Forever and ever.”

Forever . . .

Maria yawned and nestled her head back against Nick’s shoulder. She closed her eyes and folded her arms over the storybook. “Don’t worry. He’s watching after you and Mr. Nick. And Tag . . . Frisco, too.”

Leigh closed her eyes and leaned back against the trailer wall, surrounded by straw, a donkey, a horse, a man, a child . . . and by truths she’d never considered. Never seen until right this minute. Even though she’d heard them from Nick today:
“I had to talk you into marrying me . . .”
And, bitterly, from Sam Gordon, a woman who’d lied about so many things but was so right about Leigh:
“It sounds to me like you always had space—you liked it that way. The more space the better.”
She remembered how Nick reminded her of the words she’d spoken to him the first day she met him at Niko’s.
“I came for food—not a commitment.”

She’d blamed her mother all these years for stealing her belief in happily ever after, in forever. But that wasn’t the truth. Leigh had been afraid of marriage, children, a home, even a long-term career because she didn’t trust herself. She’d been afraid she’d fail as badly as her mother. She thought—in some sad but completely arrogant way—that forever was something required of her. A burden she couldn’t carry. When all the while . . .

Her heart ached at the memory of Maria’s words:
“We don’t have to be afraid, because he’ll always be here, no matter what. Forever and ever.”

God’s love was forever. The hope and comfort of that had been there all along, and she hadn’t seen it. She’d let Nick’s affair make it easier to run; she’d kept the miracle of Nick’s baby a secret from him, called the miscarriage a blessing in disguise while knitting caps for dozens of babies thousands of miles away . . . and let her marriage die, the same as that lemon tree. She’d used the excuse of “space” to do exactly what her mother had done—abandon her husband. And Caro, too, by believing that getting her on medication, into counseling, and on to college would substitute for having her big sister close enough to hug.
All because I thought forever began and ended with . . . with me.

Leigh hiked up her knees, buried her head in her arms, and felt tears slide down her cheeks, certain her heart would break. “Father,” she whispered, her voice blending with the road sounds, “I’ve been such a fool. So wrong. Please forgive me. I should have trusted you. I should have asked for your help. I am now. I need forever . . . to start with you.”

+++

The sounds awoke Nick with a jolt—hooves against flooring loud as thunder, a screaming donkey bray. And Maria’s cry.

“What’s happening?” he asked, moving to his feet.

“Quick, oh, hurry!” Leigh shouted, scrambling forward across the slippery straw. “Use the intercom; tell them Frisco’s panicking. I’ve got to get his head loose before he hangs himself. And I have to keep his IV from being pulled out. Oh, please, Frisco . . . Easy, boy, easy. I’m here. I won’t leave you.” She fumbled with the latch in the feed door of the partition and grabbed hold of the quick release rope attached to horse’s halter.

Nick bent low and spoke into the intercom, then grasped Maria’s shoulder to keep her back. The truck’s brakes grabbed, eased, grabbed again, and the trailer began to turn. Tag’s bray sounded again, Frisco grunted, and there was a horrible sound of impact against metal—horse against metal railing—then a larger groan and a thud that shook the entire trailer. Frisco sat down hard on his hindquarters, his breath coming in painful heaves, front legs extended.

“Don’t lie down, boy. Stay up; stay up,” Leigh begged, her voice rising.

Nick held Maria as the trailer’s small side escape door opened. Sunlight streamed in, along with Dr. Hunter’s calm voice. “We’re less than a mile from the hospital. I’ll give another dose of sedative and call to have the staff standing by. Everyone hang on tight. We’ll get there.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nick stepped back into the veterinary exam room after leaving a message with Sam’s nurse. He immediately saw the worry in Leigh’s expression.

“An enterolith?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“That’s right, Dr. Stathos. Look right here.” The veterinary surgical resident in dark green scrubs slid a film onto the viewer and peered through wire-rimmed glasses. “Sometimes they’re not visible on film. But this one’s as big as a softball. You’ll notice that it isn’t possible to identify individual loops of gut on an equine X-ray—just a mush of opacities—but the way Frisco’s presenting clinically, we’re suspicious that the stone’s wedged tight. It’s good you got him here—these things can cause intestinal rupture. With a high incidence of mortality.”