Keeper of the Stars (21 page)

“I'm Penny Cartwright. Is my dad here? Rodney Cartwright. The ambulance was bringing him in.”

The woman—perhaps forty with red hair that had come from a bottle and long, pointy fingernails painted with fluorescent green polish—shook her head. “No, he hasn't arrived.
If you'd like to sit over there . . .” She motioned toward some chairs in the waiting area.

Penny would have preferred to pace, but she forced herself to sit down. She even managed to pick up a dog-eared magazine, although she didn't pretend to look at it, let alone thumb through its pages.

She felt a change in air pressure, and instinct told her that the doors at the far end of the corridor had opened. She stood and moved to a place where she could see. Sure enough, her dad was being rolled into the clinic on a gurney by a couple of paramedics. Behind them came Trevor and his mom. Penny ran down the hallway as they wheeled her dad into a room.

A nurse stopped her before she could follow through the doorway. “You'll have to wait here, Penny.”

Penny blinked, once again aware that she should have been able to call the woman by her name. But her mind was blank.

A strong arm went around her shoulders. Softly, Trevor said, “Come on, Penny. Let the doctor tend to your dad. He's in good hands.”

She tried to swallow the rising terror but failed.

Gently but persistently, Trevor eased her down the hall until they reached a row of three chairs. He guided her to the middle one. He took the first and his mother settled onto the third. In silence, they shed their coats.

What happened?
The question repeated in Penny's head several times, but she hadn't the courage to ask it aloud.

Trevor put his arm around her shoulders once again. She
didn't resist. Didn't want to resist. After a while, he drew her closer to his side, and she realized tears were running down her cheeks.

“It's going to be all right,” he said softly.

She turned her face into his shirt and allowed fear to form two words in her mind:
Will it?

Trevor held her, his heart aching. She didn't make a sound as she wept, which made her tears seem all the more tragic. Over Penny's head, his mom watched them, compassion in her eyes. A lump formed in his throat. He was helpless to take away the pain Penny felt, helpless to take away her fears. He knew that but wished he could all the same.

Minutes passed. Long, silent minutes that allowed Trevor's thoughts to roam. He remembered when his father had died, the phone call from his mom, the guilt he'd felt for not caring more. Then he remembered the night he'd held Brad in his arms and watched his life slip away. Brad's loss was one Trevor had mourned deeply—and he'd experienced a different kind of guilt. Now, if Rodney were to die . . .

God, I'm afraid too. Help him, Lord.

Penny drew back from him, sat straight, and dried her eyes with a tissue Trevor's mom pressed into her hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He withdrew his arm from around her shoulders, sensing she didn't wish to be comforted by him any longer. He could
almost see her put on the armor she would need to win whatever emotional battle awaited her.

Time crawled while they waited in silence, but finally the sounds of footsteps drew their eyes to a doctor in a white coat walking toward them. His gaze swept over the threesome, then settled on Penny. “Miss Cartwright.”

She nodded. “Dr. Frederick.” Trevor saw her grasp his mom's hand.

“We don't have the results of the blood work yet, but from what your father told me, he was diagnosed with diabetes sometime in the fall. Did he tell you that?”

Penny shook her head, then nodded, then shrugged. “He said his doctor in Boise advised him to watch his blood sugar, but Dad never used the word
diabetic
. I thought cutting back on sugar was a precaution. That he just needed to curb his sweet tooth and watch his weight. That's how he made it sound.” She inhaled as she got to her feet. “How serious is it?”

“He wasn't in a diabetic coma, which was our first concern. He's alert and answering all of our questions. We're getting him rehydrated with an IV now, and when we confirm the diagnosis, we'll administer appropriate medications to get his sugars under control.”

“Will he need to be transferred to the hospital?”

The doctor shook his head. “I can't say with absolute certainty until the blood work is back and I'm able to speak to his personal physician, but I believe we'll be able to care for him here at the clinic.”

“May I see him?”

“Not yet. Give us a while. I'll send the nurse for you when he's ready to have visitors.”

Penny sank onto the chair again.

After a brief silence, Trevor asked the doctor, “How long will he need to stay?”

“Two or three days, I imagine. He obviously needs to learn to manage his blood-sugar levels, and Miss Cartwright should be educated too. He must eat the right foods and get the right exercise and take his medications as prescribed. I can recommend a good nutritionist to work with him. But we'll have time to go over all of that later. If you'll excuse me, I'll get back to my patient.”

They watched the doctor retrace his steps to the room Rodney was in. Only after Dr. Frederick was out of sight did Penny speak. “Why didn't Dad tell me the truth?” She turned from Trevor to his mom. “Why did he hide his condition from me?”

“I haven't known your father long,” his mom answered with great tenderness, “but I suspect he didn't tell you because he didn't want you to worry about him.”

“More than I do already?” Penny clutched her hands in her lap.

His mom gave her the briefest of smiles. “More than you do already.”

Penny wanted to be angry with her dad for keeping his condition a secret, but she couldn't muster the emotion. Right now, all she wanted was for him to get well.

What would have happened to him if he'd been alone when he collapsed?

A diabetic coma had been a possibility, according to the doctor. She didn't know much about the disease. Not really. But she did know that a coma wasn't a good thing.

“Penny?” Dot said softly, touching Penny's arm. “Trevor's going back to the ranch to see to the animals. Would you like me to stay here with you or would you prefer to be alone?”

“Please stay,” she whispered as she took hold of Dot's hand again.

Trevor stood and reached for his coat. “I'll be back when everything's done.”

Penny nodded. “Trevor . . . I'm so thankful you and your mom were with Dad.”

“Me too.”

She watched as he headed for the front entrance of the clinic, but once he was out of sight, she discovered she wished him back. She missed the strength she'd felt emanating from him as he sat beside her.

Funny, wasn't it? She'd been so angry with him when he showed up in Kings Meadow. She'd resented the way her dad had accepted him into their home, into their lives. She'd wanted him gone. Even as she'd begun to like him, she'd
wanted him to leave Idaho, to go back to Nashville, to go back to the life he had elsewhere. Sooner rather than later.

But because he was in Kings Meadow, because Trevor had been at their ranch, her dad had received the swift attention he'd needed. Perhaps Trevor had saved her dad's life. Had God brought Trevor into their lives for that very purpose?

But if so, if You saved Dad, why couldn't You save Brad too?

Trevor was loading bales of hay onto the back of the flatbed truck when he heard somebody call his name. He rounded the barn and saw Chet Leonard and Grant Nichols standing beside Chet's black truck.

“We came to help,” Chet said as Trevor approached them. “How's Rodney?”

“Okay, I think. Or he will be. How did you know he was sick?”

“One of the paramedics told his wife that they took Rodney to the clinic after he blacked out. News spread fast from there. No details, of course, but nobody around here needs details before they pitch in.”

“I can see that.”

“So what can we do?”

Trevor motioned with his head. “I was about to feed the cattle.”

“Let's go, then.”

With two strong men on the back of the truck while
another took the wheel, they accomplished the task in record time. Afterward, they went into the house. While Trevor made sure the dogs and cat had food and water, Chet and Grant turned off the coffeemaker and the lights that had been left on throughout the house. An intermittent beep from the answering machine drew Trevor toward the telephone. A number in a small display told him there were six messages on the recorder.

Chet said, “Penny's going to have lots of those to listen to when she gets home. And tell her not to worry about food. The women are already getting a schedule together for casseroles and such.”

“She'll appreciate it,” Trevor said, although he suspected she wouldn't think about food much.

“What time do you need us back this afternoon?” Grant asked.

It was two days before Christmas, and still people found time to help a friend and neighbor in need. Trevor didn't even know his neighbors' names in Nashville. He probably wouldn't recognize them if he met them on the street. He'd always thought he liked it that way. Now he had cause to wonder.

He pushed away the thoughts and answered Grant's question. Then all three went outside and got into their respective trucks, Trevor eager to get back to the clinic . . . and to Penny.

Chapter 16

P
ENNY
'
S DAD WAS ASLEEP WHEN SHE ARRIVED AT
the clinic the next morning. She took a seat in the chair in the corner and opened her laptop. After connecting it to the clinic's public Wi-Fi, she entered
diabetes
in the search box and began clicking on the links that came up. She'd already brought home most of the books on the library shelves about Type 2 diabetes and had stayed up late the previous night—reading, making notes, and writing down additional titles to borrow or buy.

“It's Christmas Eve,” her dad said, his voice scratchy.

She put down the laptop and went to his bedside. “I know.”

“This isn't where you should spend it.” He gave her a fleeting smile.

She returned it before leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“Did you talk to the doctor when you got here?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“He says I can go home later this afternoon.”

Anxiety tightened her chest. “So soon? Is he sure that's a good idea?”

“He's sure.”

“But, Dad, you—”

“Don't, Penny. We're going to figure all of this out, but we can do that at home. I don't need to be lying in this bed, racking up more medical bills.” He took hold of her hand and squeezed. “I was foolish. I didn't take my condition seriously. I didn't watch my diet or take the medication I was supposed to take. That has changed as of right now. I'll do everything the doctor tells me to do. I promise you.”