Lost & Found Love (18 page)

No more would she hide her scars. If she was going to stand up for children like Melodie, then she could not afford to hide what had been done to her. She would ride out to see Stoner and tell him what had happened. He would put it in perspective for her, like he had so many other things. She swung her leg over the seat of the bike and pedaled strongly out of town.

Tabby played over and over in her mind the scene that had taken place in Dr. James’s office. She still couldn’t believe Mr. Underwood was using her relationship with Joseph to boot her out on a morals clause. She recalled the night in question. Joseph had held her while she slept. He’d stayed to comfort her, and that was it. They were discreet. They were in love.

What right did these holier than thou hypocrites have to judge them? But she knew it wasn’t totally about her relationship with Joseph. She had simply rattled the wrong cages by dressing differently, by not fitting the mold they had already pre-made for her. Why was it so hard for people to accept her? It was more than the art. They hadn’t seen it. So the only thing she could attribute their animosity to was that, different as she was, she had driven into town and snatched Pastor Joseph Taylor from beneath their noses. All Tabby had done was fall in love for the first time in her life.

Her fury made her ride fast and hard, stretching her muscles and pushing her body until sweat soaked her. She braked slightly coming down a hill and around a curve, noticing her rear caliper grabbed unevenly. She would adjust it when she reached Richardson Homestead. These bumpier country roads meant constantly tweaking and adjusting brakes and gears on the lightweight racing bike.

Tabby rounded the last curve and shifted, glancing down as the derailleur struggled with the gear change. When it finally completed its shift, she glanced back up, saw the large delivery truck directly in her path, and found she had time only to brake and swerve sharply to the right.

* * * *

Jenny snatched the phone up as soon as it rang. “Tabby?”

“Have you talked to her today?” It was Evan checking in from the office and already in a foul temper. “The town grapevine operates faster than 4G. News of Tabby’s suspension is already everywhere, including plastered all over Facebook. It was pretty much the sole topic of conversation at Mercer’s. I swear, if I find out Dennis Underwood has leaked any of this information, I will help Tabby hand him his ass on a platter.”

Jenny couldn’t dismiss a faint feeling of unease. Between what had been in her mother’s letter and what she had learned from Tabby, her younger sister’s life had been rough enough. How many more blows could one person be expected to handle before they simply caved in to the pressure?

“I tried Tabby’s phone earlier,” Jenny said, “but it was busy.”

“Keep trying her. I’ll check in at her house in a bit. First, I’m pulling a criminal record check on Mike and Missy Matthews. As accurate as Tabby was about your situation, I don’t think we can afford to sit by and do nothing about her feeling about that little girl.”

“Thank you for believing her, Evan. She needs a support network. It’s something she’s never really had, so we have an opportunity to help Tabby as well as the Matthews.”

Jenny finished nursing Peter and put him down for his afternoon nap. This was the time when she normally grabbed some sleep as well. Her strength was nearly back, though certainly not as quickly as Holly after Noelle’s birth, but then there was an eight-year difference in their ages. Jenny yearned to get back to work and wondered how to break the news to Evan.

Peter would be able to come to the clinic with her, or they could find a nanny, but as the town’s primary physician, it was almost inconceivable for her to be out too much longer. Dr. Razawi was a talented, dedicated doctor, but he would need a break sooner rather than later, and he didn’t have the surgical experience Jenny had.

* * * *

Stoner was livid. He had ordered extremely specific, highly specialized wood from the hobby store in Roanoke. It wasn’t like he could make the trip to buy it in person. The delivery driver had come all that way, and the order was completely screwed up.

“How could you not double check something before you started a two-hour drive? I feel like I’ve stepped into the
Wizard of Oz
. You should be fired for not having a brain.”

“Sorry, Mr. Richardson. I was told it had been checked. I assumed they knew what they were doing.”

“Damn. I hoped to finish this table this weekend.” He scowled. “Go. Take your sorry butt off my property.” Stoner knew he was overreacting, but damn it all, life was a piss pot to begin with right now, and this kind of shit made it that much worse.

The truck driver muttered under his breath and gunned the engine unnecessarily as he careened down the driveway. Stoner saw Tabby on her bike as the delivery driver made a too wide turn back onto the state highway. Stoner bellowed and started racing down the hill from his house before he ever heard the squeal of brakes. He never even slowed down as he sprinted across the imaginary line that would trigger an alarm at the sheriff’s office. The only thing on his mind was the disaster unfolding before his eyes.

Tabby tried to swerve, but it wasn’t soon enough. As Stoner ran, her and her bike went airborne. Even from a distance, he heard the sickening crunch of metal and bone, and helplessly watched her body-jarring slam to the pavement.

He shouted at the driver who was already out of the cab, “Don’t just stand there, asshole, call 911!”

Stoner tried to wipe the horror from his expression as he knelt on the road next to Tabby. Blood spurted from a gaping wound at the top of her thigh. Jesus. Her femoral artery must be torn.

Tabby’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re off your leash….” she whispered before her head lolled to the side.

Stoner tried to put pressure on the spurting bright red blood, but pressure alone wasn’t going to stop it. “God! Help me!” he cried hoarsely, and for perhaps the first time in his adult life, he truly meant it as the prayer it should be. Stoner pulled out his pocketknife and ruthlessly cut Tabby’s shorts out of the way. The snapped metal frame of her bike had left a gaping wound in her thigh and cut her femoral artery. It was too close to the groin to tourniquet.
Jesus!
He hadn’t seen an injury like this since Vietnam. Fighting his own panic, he reached into the wound, found the artery, nearly as thick as a finger, and pinched it off.

Behind him, he heard the truck driver throw up. The man was useless as tits on a boar hog. Stoner felt a mixture of relief and horror when he heard Catherine.

“Stoner, the sheriff’s office just called. What’s… Oh my God! Is that
Tabby
?”

He glanced over his shoulder at Catherine’s deathly pale face. “Katie!” he snapped, using the name he hadn’t called her in years. “Pick up my phone. Call 911. I can’t move. She’s torn her femoral artery, and I’m pinching it shut. If I lose my grip, she’ll bleed out in minutes.”

As he listened to Catherine make the call, her cool voice sounding only slightly agitated, he calmed. Years of marriage to him combined with years as a politician’s wife made her an absolute ice cube most of the time. And right now, that was a good thing. Stoner’s eyes focused on Tabby, examining her for any other injuries. Her cheek was grazed, and it looked like she might have a dislocated shoulder. She still wore her helmet, though it was cracked. None of her other injuries appeared critical, but what did he know?

He knew he held her life in his hands.

“They’re on their way, Stoner. They weren’t too far away. Ten minutes at the most,” Catherine said. “What can I do?”

He looked at his wife. “Be ready to hold her absolutely still if she comes to. If she moves, and I lose my grip, Katie, she’s dead.”

Joe couldn’t stand it any longer. All he was doing was spinning his wheels. While he’d stood in the river with his fly rod, he’d made his peace with God, not in catching fish, but in the simple rhythmic back and forth of casting. He’d managed to lose himself enough that he could figure a few things out.

Now he was anxious to get back. The drive from his friend’s cabin was a tedious one, especially stuck behind a truck. As narrow and twisting as the back roads and state highways were, it was almost impossible to pass a car, let alone any larger vehicle. Joe tamped down his impatience until he turned off on Highway 8 and the truck he followed didn’t. With a smile, Joe accelerated. Not much farther now.

It was time to make his peace with Tabby, so they could move forward in their relationship. His phone call had at least reassured him she was open to that idea. Thank heaven. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she’d been hostile. Well, maybe beg.

Joe had always been so busy brushing off overtures from within and without his congregation that his response to Tabby had turned the tables on him so completely it had knocked him off a foundation that hadn’t been quite as secure as he had so arrogantly thought. He was back on track now, though. He had his priorities in order and was ready to spend serious time doing a little old-fashioned courting.

He wanted her to know more about him, who he was, where he came from. She’d opened up some to him, now it was time he did the same for her. He’d asked her to take him on trust without even giving her any background about himself whatsoever. That hadn’t been fair. He knew that now. So if courting her was what it took, then he would do it. And he’d be patient.

Joe sent up a silent prayer he could actually do that.

He would ask her again to marry him, but this time he would do it right. His proposal wouldn’t be while they were locked in an embrace on the floor. He would take her to dinner, at Mercer’s where they had first gone. Then they could go for a drive. He’d do what Jake had suggested. He would take her out publicly. He would make their courtship so public there would be no need for the gossips to go to Facebook or their phones because it would all be right there for them to see.

The blare of an ambulance siren made him glance in his rearview mirror even as he slowed and eased the Mustang to the edge of the road. The crew shot by, and he pulled back onto the roadway. After rounding another curve along the neat fences of Richardson Homestead, he saw a panel truck in the road, along with the ambulance. Joseph pulled over and jumped out.

His National Guard unit had spent two years in Iraq. It was one of the reasons he was already near thirty and just preaching in his first church. Seminary had been delayed. He was lucky that his unit was a medical one, so he was able to serve his country without putting some of his personal beliefs about non-violence to the test. Now, jogging up the road to the accident, Joe wondered if he would need to help. There were few enough paramedics in Castle County, and he’d lent a hand before in some emergencies.

He saw Catherine Richardson first, standing slightly to one side. Her clothing was spattered with blood, and Joe’s alarm grew. Was the senator involved in this in some way? He searched and found his gray-haired head next. Stoner was huddled side by side with the paramedics who already worked frantically over their patient. Even from this distance, he could tell from the body language the situation was not good. He heard fear in one paramedic’s voice, urgency in the other.

“Keep hold of that artery, Senator. I’ll clamp it off just above your fingers. What’s her BP, Tony?”

Joseph saw Catherine hurry toward him. He slowed down to smile reassuringly and would have moved on, but she reached out and grabbed his arm. He noticed again the blood staining the knees of her slacks and the front of her shirt.

“Pastor. Wait!” The urgency in her voice surprised him. She was always cool and unruffled.

He stopped and touched her arm. “Are you hurt, Mrs. Richardson?” He glanced toward the accident scene. “What’s happened?”

Her mouth opened and shut before she whispered, “Joseph, it’s Tabby.”

The shock of her words was as great as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. In fact, he wanted to shake his head and ask her to repeat it, but he’d heard her. His head swiveled in slow motion. Now he saw things he hadn’t noticed before, or maybe hadn’t wanted to notice. Tabby’s bike helmet was discarded right behind the paramedic who was busy hooking up an IV. The twisted frame of her bicycle sprawled in the middle of the road. There was so much blood…too much blood.

He shook off Catherine’s arm and started walking. Tabby. Walking turned to running. He swallowed thickly, squelching the panic that threatened.
Tabby.
He reached her side and saw exactly what Stoner clenched between his fingers.

“Tabby!” He gasped past the pain and tightness in his chest, fighting the knowledge that the woman he loved might already be beyond any help he could provide.

The older paramedic looked up in relief. “Pastor! We can use an extra hand here in a minute when we get ready to move her.”

“We could use him right now,” Stoner gritted and glanced over his broad shoulder. “Talk to her, son. Let her know you’re here.”

Joseph didn’t even question how the senator seemed to know so much about him. He found a spot near her head, and while he watched with a practiced eye what the paramedics were doing, Joseph talked to her.

“It’s Joseph, Tabby. I’m here, darling. I came back early so we could talk like I promised. You have to hang on for me, so we can have that talk. There are so many things I need to tell you, things I should have talked to you about before.”

Tony looked at him. “It’s true? You’re seeing her?”

Joe never took his eyes off Tabby’s still face. “I want to marry her as soon as I can convince her.”

Stoner lifted his eyes to Joseph, who saw in the older man the same calm determination he felt. “If we can stop her bleeding to death, Joseph, I don’t think convincing her will be much of a hurdle.”

Joseph nodded. He touched Tabby’s head and closed his eyes as he prayed. He opened his mind not only to God, but also to the woman he loved in the hope she could feel the strength he wanted to give. He would gladly take her pain as his own. He would do anything. “Feel me, Tabby,” he whispered near her ear so softly no one else could hear him. “Feel what I feel. Take my strength.”