Tracie Peterson (19 page)

Brook smiled and lowered her head. “I’ve been pretty hard on you, haven’t I?”

“Terribly hard on me,” he agreed, laughing. “But believe me, it’s okay. I’ve been turned down lots of times.”

Brook looked up and caught him looking at her with such a look of sweetness that she couldn’t help but laugh as well. “If it helps, you’re my favorite photographer.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t help at all. Somehow, dating Brook Mitchell and photographing her are just not the same. One is a job—albeit a fun one—but the other would be pure pleasure.”

Just then Miriam returned. “Go ahead, you two. The others want to stay.”

Brook nodded and looked around for one of the house staff. She had given them her black wool wrap for safekeeping. “Excuse me,” she said, slipping past Miriam to where a uniformed man stood attentively just inside the other room.

Her wrap was quickly retrieved and before she knew it she was belted into the front left passenger seat of Aaron’s rental car.

“So have you managed to get used to driving on the opposite side of the road?” she questioned.

“I’ve mastered that,” Aaron admitted, “but I haven’t mastered dealing with all the traffic. Drivers over here seem crazy.” He secured his own belt and started the engine.

Brook tried to relax, but her tension level was high and for just a moment she felt certain that she was going to throw up. Struggling to remain in control of her emotional state, she tried to think of her sister and what she would say when she called home. What time was it in Denver? She calculated it to be seven hours behind and realized it would be nearing six-thirty. She could call from the hotel room and it would still be early enough in the evening so as not to disrupt their sleep.

Aaron turned onto the narrow hedge-lined lane and maneuvered the tiny car down the road. The lights beamed out straight and true, revealing nothing but empty open space ahead.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Aaron questioned out of the clear blue.

Brook swallowed hard. “I suppose. I won’t promise to answer it, however.”

“Fair enough. It’s just that I notice you never drink anymore. You used to party with the best of them. What happened?”

Brook shrugged. “I guess I saw it was taking a harder toll on me than the hours I was putting in on the job. I always woke up the morning after feeling like I had the flu, so I asked myself why a person would subject themselves to that kind of feeling—on purpose.”

He laughed. “I know what you mean. I don’t drink nearly like I used to. I gave up the drugs too.”

Brook stiffened. “You were into drugs?”

“Not heavy. Just smoked pot on occasion. Stuff like that. The hard stuff was too expensive, even though I had ready access to it at most of the parties I attended. I guess I saw too many people head down that path and not come back.”

Brook nodded. “It doesn’t make sense to do yourself in like that. I figured I would rather have some control over my life. Even if it’s only marginal. Miriam has the rest.” She smiled and tried to make light of her bondage to her tyrannical manager.

“She drives you pretty hard, doesn’t she?” Aaron asked, turning onto a slightly wider road.

“She tells me it’s for my own good,” Brook replied. “I guess she sees my youth slipping away and wants me to cash in on my looks while they last.”

“You’ll always look good, Brook. You have your mother’s face.”

That was the wrong thing to say, but Brook tried not to hold it against Aaron. He couldn’t possibly know how that innocent line would make her feel. “Actually,” she said, clearing her throat, “I have my sister’s face.”

“Huh?”

She smiled. “I’m an identical twin. My sister Ashley looks just like me.”

“There are two of you? Man, God must have been feeling particularly generous that day,” he replied. “Does she model somewhere?”

“No,” Brook replied. “She lives with her husband and kids in Denver. She’s a happy housewife with a wonderful family.”

“You sound like you envy her.”

“I think I do,” Brook said softly, turning to stare out her darkened window. “She knows what the future holds for her life.”

“Watch out!” Aaron called out, swerving hard to the right.

Brook had no time to react. She glanced up in time to see a huge dog dart across the road. Aaron struggled to keep the car on the road, but no sooner had Brook thought them to have escaped unscathed than the car went smashing into a rather large tree at the end of a private drive.

Because of their seat belts, neither one was seriously hurt, but Brook was notably shaken. “Are you okay?” she managed to ask with a shaky voice.

“I’m fine,” Aaron muttered. “What about you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It’s impossible to see,” he said, opening his door. “Maybe you should stay put while I go up to that house and get help.”

“I’m really okay, Aaron,” Brook replied, unfastening her belt and opening her own door. The image of Ashley flashed in her mind and instinctively Brook knew that her twin was in some sort of peril. “But I have to get to a phone,” she murmured, knowing that he would never understand.

By three-thirty they were finally back at the hotel. Aaron apologized at least a dozen times and Brook assured him each time that the accident was hardly his fault. She hurried to her room and immediately went to the telephone. Dialing up Ashley’s number, Brook felt her sense of urgency build. Something was wrong—she just knew it—and with each ring of the phone she felt it confirmed. When the answering machine came on, she slammed the receiver down and dialed Mattie.

Struggling to keep from being sick, Brook waited impatiently as the ringing began on the other line. Again there was no answer, and
now Brook was beginning to panic. She felt her face flush in anxiety and fought the urge to run for the bathroom. She had to know what was going on. She had to talk to Ashley!

Desperately, she pulled her address book out of her purse and looked up Deirdre’s number. Dialing, Brook whispered a prayer that her sister would answer the telephone.

“Hello?”

“Dee, it’s Brook.”

“Oh, Brook,” Deirdre said, her voice tenuous.

“Something’s happened to Ashley, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad, Brook. She was in a car accident. She’s in the hospital.”

Brook forced herself to ask the next question. “Is she going to die?”

“They don’t know at this point. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt and the car rolled several times.”

“She always wears her seat belt,” Brook said, still fighting the sense of shock that was overwhelming her. “Why wouldn’t she be wearing one this time?”

“I don’t know,” Deirdre admitted. “Brook, there’s something else. Ashley lost a baby. Apparently she was about three months pregnant.”

“I know,” Brook whispered. “She mentioned she might be when we were back at Grammy’s.”

“Well, apparently no one else knew it. Not even Jack.”

“Speaking of Jack,” Brook said, reaching into her purse for a pen, “how can I reach him?”

Deirdre gave her the telephone number. “I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you. Grammy is on her way there already, but I know he’ll feel better if you call him.”

“I’ll do it as soon as I hang up,” Brook promised. They concluded their call quickly and Brook immediately redialed.

“Dr. Jack Issacs, please,” she told the woman who answered the call.

She waited for several minutes before her call was redirected to the surgical waiting room. Apparently Ashley had needed to go back into surgery for some reason.

“Jack?”

“Who’s this?”

“Brook.”

“Oh, Brook. I’m so sorry. I called Mattie and never thought to call you.”

“It’s all right. You couldn’t have reached me if you’d tried. I’m in England. Now, what’s going on with Ashley?”

His voice broke and she could tell he was crying. “She’s in surgery—again.”

“So I’ve been told. What are they doing to her?”

“She was pregnant and lost the baby and they can’t get her to stop hemorrhaging. They’re doing a hysterectomy. She’s going to be devastated.”

Brook swallowed hard and brushed away the tears that slid down her cheeks. “Will she be okay?”

“The doctor thinks that once they perform this surgery, she’ll be out of the woods. They won’t know anything for sure, however, until she regains consciousness. That might be days.”

“No!”

“I’m sorry, Brook. I know this is hard for you. Is there someone to be with you?”

“No,” she managed to whisper. “But that’s all right. I’ll try to find out when I can fly home.”

“No, don’t do that, Brook,” Jack replied. “Ashley’s situation is going to be critical for the next few hours. Just stay put. I’ll call you or you can call me for updates, but I’d rather not have anyone else en route here. Mattie’s on her way and that’s enough for now.”

“But I should be there,” Brook said, knowing even as she said the words that there was no way Miriam would allow her to just up
and leave the photo shoot. She felt torn in two. “Jack, what happened, anyway?”

There was a long pause before Jack spoke. “She was on her way home from my clinic. I don’t know what caused the accident, but she flipped the car several times and because she wasn’t wearing her seat belt, she was thrown around until the car came to rest upside down.”

“Why wasn’t she wearing a seat belt?” Brook questioned, desperately needing to understand why this had happened.

“I don’t know.” He sounded far away, as if he were having difficulty focusing on their conversation.

“I still think I should be there,” Brook said, already flipping through her address book.

“Honestly,” Jack reiterated, “it would be better if you didn’t come back just now. Give it a few hours and we’ll know more. You can’t get back here very soon anyway. Stay where you are and just keep checking in. If she’s going to die . . .” His voice trailed off.

“She’s not going to die!” Brook replied fiercely. “She can’t die. She just can’t.”

Chapter 17

Jack Issacs felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck. The sun had barely cleared the horizon to announce yet another morning, the clock on the wall ticking in agonizing slowness. The heart monitor beside Ashley’s hospital bed showed the steady rhythm of his wife’s vital signs and gave a dull green glow in the dimly lit room.

She shouldn’t be here
, he thought for the millionth time.
This never should have happened.
He reached for her small smooth hand and clutched it tightly. She was so cold and lifeless. As a doctor, he knew the details of everything they had done for her. Knew, too, the details of everything the accident had done.

He studied her I.V. bags with a doctor’s eye. She had fluids to help sustain her life, a bag of O positive blood, and a self-medicating drip of morphine for the time when she actually regained consciousness and found herself in too much pain.

Jack felt hot tears pour down his cheeks.
This is my fault! This is all my fault. She’s hurt and can never have another child, all because of me.

He let go of her and balled his hands into fists. “I’m so sorry, Ash,” he said, his emotions getting the best of him.

He leaned his head against the rail of the bed and felt the cold metal penetrate like a knife. It gradually became more painful, but still he kept his weight rigidly against it. He deserved to hurt. He deserved much worse than what he had. Quietly he sobbed.

The door opened quietly behind him and within a matter of seconds he felt warm hands on his shoulders.

“Jack, you can’t do this to yourself,” Mattie told him softly. “You shouldn’t do this to Ashley, either. Who knows what she can hear?”

Jack composed himself and nodded. “I know you’re right. It just hurts so much.” He got to his feet and looked Mattie in the eye. “I just can’t lose her.”

“The doctors all say her prognosis is good. You yourself know all the mechanics and textbook circumstances. The rest is in God’s hands, Jack. Have you prayed about this?”

Jack couldn’t lie. “I’ve prayed, but I don’t think God is listening.”

“Of course He’s listening,” Mattie chided. “He just doesn’t always seem to jump when we demand it. Now, why don’t you come have some breakfast with me. I was just going to go get something in the cafeteria.”

“No, you go ahead. I want to be here when she wakes up,” he said soberly. “I need to be the first one she sees.”

Mattie seemed to understand. “All right. I’ll be back shortly.” Jack felt both a sense of relief and abandonment as Mattie exited as quickly as she’d come. He was glad she was here with him. His own mother had agreed to stay at home with the boys. No sense in having them up at the hospital where everything would be foreign and nothing would offer them comfort. At least at home they could watch television and play with the things that were familiar to them.

In the bed behind him, Ashley stirred and moaned softly. He turned and found her eyes blinking ever so slowly as if trying to focus, and then she was out again. At least it was something.

Jack went back to the bedside and thought of Mattie’s suggestion that he pray. “God, this isn’t her fault. We both know that she doesn’t deserve to suffer like this.”