Discovering Sophie (31 page)

“Nice save,” she said, giving him a small smile.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re still beautiful. It’s just obvious you’re sick.”

Without a warning, her eyes filled up with tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey now, don’t cry.”

His voice was so tender and so unlike the first time she’d met him that it made her even more emotional.

“And you don’t need to apologize for being sick.” He moved far enough inside the tent to take her hand. The second he touched her skin, his blue eyes widened. “Sophie, you’re burning up.”

“I know.” Her bottom lip quivered as the tears spilled over and trickled down the side of her face into her hairline. “If I have what I think I have, I’ll probably get worse before I get better.”

A look of concern etched creases across his forehead. “What do you think you have?”

Even though she was taking antimalarial medication, there was a small chance she’d contracted the disease, but she didn’t think so.

“Have you heard of dengue fever?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “Then you probably feel as crappy as you look.”

She tried not to laugh at his blunt observation. “Thanks for sparing my feelings.”

“You know what I mean.” He shook his head and gave a low whistle. “One of the doctors in a group I guided a few years back came down with dengue. He was pretty sick.”

“I remember when I was in pre-med my dad had the same thing. I researched it fairly thoroughly, and from what I can remember, people are usually sick for about three to five days.” She was modulating the duration a little, but she was trying to be optimistic.

“We need to get your fever down.” Jack gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Tylenol or ibuprofen?”

“Your medical skills are getting more impressive day by day.”

“Yeah,” he said with a wry grin. “Hanging out with a doctor tends to do that to you.”

She smiled. “I already took some Tylenol. If you can give me a few minutes, I’ll be ready to leave.”

He looked at her skeptically. “I don’t think you’ll be up for travel today.”

She didn’t want to alarm him, but she felt an urgency to get back to San José. “Jack, I’m in the first few days of the virus, so we should leave while I can.”

“Okay,” he said rising. “We’ll leave as soon as you feel like you’re ready.”

* * *

Jack wasn’t sure how much longer Sophie could go. She was almost too weak to travel anymore. Her steps faltered, but Jack kept her upright, holding onto her elbow. “Do we need to stop and rest for a minute?”

She looked up at him, confusion written all over her face. “I need to find my dad.” She tightly gripped his arm. “Please help me find my daddy.”

Jack and Hector exchanged worried expressions. Sophie had been acting a little out of it for the past couple of hours. “How much longer?” Jack mouthed to Hector.

“Maybe thirty to forty-five minutes.”

Jack shook his head. He didn’t think she would make it another five minutes. “Let’s keep moving.”

“Peter,” Sophie said, looking up at Jack. “I have to go by myself.”

“Okay,” Jack said going along with her. “But why don’t you take another drink of water.” He handed the bottle to her, growing more and more concerned.

“Thank you.” She took a sip and made a face. “Do you have anything colder?”

“Not right now.” Jack looked sidelong at Hector. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

Hector solemnly nodded his head in agreement. “
Sí
, let’s go.”

It didn’t bother Jack that Sophie had called him Peter. She’d also called him Camille. What bothered him was the delirium itself. He knew it wasn’t normal. Taking the bottle of water from Sophie, Jack noted fresh bruises on her arms. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where the bruises had come from.

“Come on, Sophie. We’re almost there,” Jack said, taking her arm and pressing forward. Each step brought them closer to
San Benito
—closer to getting Sophie help.

Under Jack’s fingers, her skin felt clammy and cold. The fever had broken earlier, but her bizarre behavior had him more worried than the high temperature. Looking down at Sophie, he wished she could at least clue him into what was going on with her.

He kept his arm firmly around her waist, practically dragging her.
Only thirty more minutes
, he repeated over and over in his head.

Her steps faltered, and she started to sink to the ground. “Jack?” she asked, her voice cracking with emotion as he kept her from falling.

“What, honey?” She seemed to know who he was, but her eyes were clouded with confusion.

“What’s wrong with me?” Her words slurred together like she’d been drinking.

“I don’t know, but we’re almost home.” He met Hector’s concerned gaze. Neither one of them knew what to do for her.

Sophie moaned in pain and pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t feel very good.”

Jack was afraid she was going to throw up. Instead, her knees buckled and her body went limp. He gripped her arm, catching her before she hit the ground.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Sophie,”
Jack said as he eased her body to the ground. “Come on, Sophie,” he said again, grasping her by the shoulders and gently shaking her. “Wake up, honey.”

She remained deathly still, her face without any color. Trying to recall basic first-aid, Jack made sure she was breathing. Then he placed his fingers against her throat and felt for a pulse. It seemed a little too fast.
Please, God, help me know what to do
.

Hector rushed over. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Jack felt utterly helpless and knew she needed immediate medical care. He discarded his backpack and scooped her up in his arms. She weighed practically nothing. “Let’s just go. She needs to be in a hospital.”

The terrain was difficult and seemed to slope uphill the entire time. Although she wasn’t heavy, his arms and legs burned. With each step, Jack prayed for a miracle—prayed for her to wake up, but Sophie remained unconscious.

Perspiration dampened his T-shirt, and his lungs heaved from the exertion. Several times he had to pause and readjust his hold on her. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached
San Benito
.

A small group of children were playing soccer and grew very quiet when they saw the strangers enter their village. Jack heard some of the children whisper, “
Es muerta.”
He didn’t have time to reassure them Sophie wasn’t dead.

When they came to a grassy area, Hector turned around. “Wait right here. I’ll go find help and get the canoe ready.”

Jack had no idea who could help, but at this point, he would welcome the village shaman. Carefully, Jack laid Sophie’s limp body on the grass. Alarm swept through him when he noticed a small trickle of blood seeping from one nostril. Had he inadvertently injured her somehow?

He wiped at the blood with his thumb, fighting the feelings of despair and frustration. “Please,” he begged God in a broken voice. “Please, let her be okay.” Silently, Jack prayed for help and promised God he would do whatever he could to make Sophie happy, even if that meant moving to Colorado without knowing how he would support a wife.

A crowd had gathered around him, some murmuring prayers of their own. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, the tips of his fingers growing moist from his desperate tears. Suddenly, the group parted, and Jack looked up to see a tall, balding man walking toward them. Hector was right behind him.

“What do we have here?” the man asked in perfect English as he knelt down next to Sophie. He was an American, probably in his early sixties, wearing khakis and a loose fitted, white cotton shirt and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

“Please tell me you’re a doctor,” Jack said, hardly able to believe his luck—no, an answer to his prayers.

“That I am, son.” He placed his fingers at Sophie’s throat to feel for a pulse and introduced himself. “I’m Mark Webster.”

“Jack Mathison.” Jack gazed at Sophie. “This is Sophie.”

“Tell me about the onset of the illness and what the symptoms have been?” Dr. Webster asked as he opened Sophie’s eyelids and shone a small penlight in each eye.

“Sophie’s a doctor and suspected she had dengue fever.” Jack told him about her elevated temperature and the delirium and then pointed out the bruises on her arm.

The doctor saw the faded bruises on her cheek and raised a questioning eyebrow. “It looks like someone hit her in the face.”

Jack read the accusation, but couldn’t blame the man. “Someone did hit her. A few days ago we were both abducted by some men so Sophie could try to save their injured comrade.” Jack pointed to the bruises on his own face. “That’s where I got these from.”

“I heard about that from the villagers.” The doctor offered Jack a friendly smile. “You’ve evaded one kind of tragedy. How about we see if we can avoid another one?”

Jack exhaled heavily. “That’s what I’ve been praying for.”

The doctor unwound his stethoscope. “Is she your wife?”

“Not yet.”

Dr. Webster smiled. “Well, we better get this young lady better so you can make that happen.” Dr. Webster put the stethoscope tips in his ears and concentrated on Sophie.

As the man listened to her lungs and heart, Jack looked up to see Hector. “Do you have the canoe ready?”

“
Sí.
Everything is all set to go.”

Winding the stethoscope around his neck again, the doctor asked, “Has she had any fluids or medication today?”

“I’ve tried to get her to drink water and this morning she had some Tylenol.”

Dr. Webster nodded his head, continuing his examination. “And the bruises on her arm appeared this morning?”

“I actually noticed them this afternoon,” Jack answered.

The doctor lifted Sophie’s shirt slightly, and Jack couldn’t even appreciate her toned stomach. It was covered with tiny red spots. “Is that a rash?”

“Although that’s what it looks like, it’s not actually a rash.” Mark palpitated her abdomen and Sophie groaned slightly. “The tiny pin-point spots are caused by blood leaking out of the capillaries under the skin.”

That didn’t sound very good to Jack. Before he could ask more questions, he heard a commotion. Jack raised his eyes to see a trim American woman with long, silvery hair, rushing toward them. She wore jeans and a colorful T-shirt with the logo of a Christian humanitarian organization.

“Mark, what do I need to get?” she questioned, kneeling down.

“Honey, we need to get an IV started as soon as possible,” Mark said, pulling Sophie’s shirt down.

He looked up at Jack. “This is my wife Jane. She’s also my nurse.” Mark stood up. “Jack, can you carry Sophie to the bungalow?”

“Sure.” Adrenalin coursed through his body as Jack scooped Sophie up. He followed Mark and Jane, thanking God for putting them in this village.

While Jane started the IV, Mark pulled Jack aside. “She’s very sick, and I need to get her to the hospital in San José.”

Jack raked his hand through his hair in agitation. “My Jeep is in
Del Cielo
, about a half an hour from here by canoe.” He swallowed back the fear he felt. “Do you know what’s wrong?”

Mark rubbed his balding head. “My guess is dengue hemorrhagic fever. I won’t know for sure until I can get some blood work done, but from what I can tell by examination and her history, I’m almost 99% sure that’s what we’re dealing with.”

Jack had never heard about the hemorrhagic part of dengue fever. He listened as the doctor explained the potential complications and possible mortality if they didn’t get her to a medical facility soon.

“It’s rare, but she may need a platelet blood transfusion. Unfortunately, I won’t know that without getting a CBC.” Mark pulled out a satellite phone from his pant pocket. “I’m calling a friend of mine who happens to be a helicopter pilot. He’ll be waiting for us in
Del Cielo
.”

Jack wanted to hug the man. “I—” His voice cracked with emotion. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe you and your wife were here.”

Dr. Webster looked at his wife and smiled. “Sweetie, tell him about this morning.”

Jane nodded her head. “We’re here with a Christian humanitarian aid organization, and this morning after we met for prayer, I had the feeling that Mark and I needed to remain behind.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Now we know why God wanted us to stay.”

Jack felt his throat tighten with emotion. God had heard his prayers. “Thanks for listening.”

Mark patted him on the arm. “Let’s get your young lady to the hospital.”

* * *

Mark and his wife climbed aboard the helicopter with Sophie. “We’ll take good care of her, son,” Dr. Webster said over the whir of the helicopter blades.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” There wasn’t any room for Jack, forcing him to make the journey home by his Jeep.

Before backing away, Jack took one last look at Sophie. Her dark lashes brushed against her pale cheeks, making her look like a sleeping princess. Snow White was it? If only his kiss would awaken her.

The helicopter revved its engines in preparation for flight, and Jack and Hector moved to stand by the Jeep. Both men shielded their eyes from the flying debris as the chopper ascended above the trees and hovered there for a few seconds. The pilot transitioned the helicopter from vertical to forward motion, and gracefully, the big machine flew away for San José.

Jack turned to Hector. “Do you mind if I take shotgun?” Consumed with worry, Jack figured he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on driving down the mountain.

“
Sí, amigo
.” Hector climbed in behind the wheel. “Let’s go.”

As Hector pulled away, Jack unlocked the glove compartment to retrieve his cell phone. Within twenty minutes he should have service. His phone powered up briefly, flashing low battery. After a few seconds, it shut off. “Great!” he shouted in frustration. “My phone is dead.”

Leaving in such a hurry, he had forgotten his charger. Dr. Webster needed Jack to call Sophie’s family to get her medical records. Her friend Camille was the closest thing to family Sophie had. Well, besides Peter, but Jack wasn’t calling him. “I need to get a hold of Tyson so he can tell his sister to call me.”