Wings of a Dove (51 page)

    His eyes smarting from the smoke emanating from a nearby car, Delaney helped lift another wounded man into the rear of a heavily loaded volunteer wagon before turning to survey the accident scene once more. A long line of injured passengers lay sprawled and bleeding along the tracks, waiting to be transported to the nearest hospital, while others wandered dazedly in search of their loved ones. The rescue attempt had not even touched some of the cars farther along the track, although volunteers and professionals were working at maximum effort.

    Turning at the sound of a muffled cry, which was almost indistinguishable in the pandemonium around him, Delaney strained to see through the gritty, unnatural twilight. A small figure near an overturned car staggered into his line of vision, and he moved immediately toward it. He was within a few feet of the child when he jerked to a halt and a low gasp escaped his throat. That pale hair and slender outline, the way she moved her head… No, it could not be!

    The girl staggered again, and Delaney ran toward her, catching her as she lurched weakly forward. The small, soot-stained face she turned dazedly up to his froze the name on his lips.

    Allie!

    "Mama! Mama…"

    The girl's ragged whimper snapped him out of his bemused state, and Delaney shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. No, it was impossible. This girl was a child, near the age Allie had been when he first saw her. She was the exact image of Allie, with her pale flowing hair and small pointed face. Even her great dark eyes were the same, and she was of a delicate stature so similar to Allie's that his heart ached as his arms closed around her and he attempted to carry her away from the wreckage.

    "No!" Suddenly struggling, the child fought his protective    embrace, squirming and crying in desperate appeal. "Mama… she's hurt!"

    Unable to restrain the frantic child any longer, Delaney lowered her to the ground, supporting her until she regained her balance. Not waiting to see if he followed, the child scrambled back in the direction from which she had come and within moments was kneeling beside the partly concealed body of a woman. Darting him a frightened glance, she began struggling with a huge metal panel that lay across the upper body of the woman.

    Signaling the child back, Delaney took one corner of the heavy panel and strained to raise it. He noted that it rested partly on the dislodged passenger seat that lay beside the woman, sparing her most of its crushing weight. Grunting, his muscles straining, Delaney felt the metal sheet begin to move at last, and with a final powerful thrust he pushed it aside. The woman's face was turned away from him, allowing him a view of pale hair, the like of which he had seen only once before. Shaking, almost unable to breathe past the obstruction that had formed in his throat, Delaney carefully turned the woman's face toward him.

    Dazed disbelief reverberated in Delaney's mind as he stared for an incredulous moment into Allie's blood-streaked face.

    A low gasp, not quite a sob, not quite a groan, sounded in his throat as he strained to see her more clearly. His trembling hand moved against her throat, seeking a pulse, and he closed his eyes briefly, breathing freely once more only after he felt life fluttering beneath his fingertips.

    The child at his side began sobbing, and Delaney turned in sudden realization that she was Allie's daughter.

    "You… your mother will be all right. Don't cry. I need you to help me rescue her."

    His plea brought the child's gaze to his face, and Delaney was impaled by eyes so similar to Allie's that they stabbed him with pain. Near panic, Delaney glanced around. Realizing there was no help to be found, he worked carefully, with trembling hands, to remove Allie from the remaining debris. When she was totally free but still unconscious, he examined her cautiously. The blood from the gash on her forehead was beginning to clot, and he saw no immediate danger there. He was more concerned with the peculiar angle of her arm and shoulder, but a closer examination did not reveal any broken bones. The pronounced swelling of her right ankle and his subsequent examination led him to believe the same was not true there. A quick check revealed no other visible injuries, and realizing he had to take the risk of moving her, Delaney slid his arms under Allie's slender frame and slowly lifted her.

    Bittersweet joy tempered the panic that threatened to overwhelm him as Delaney started forward. Clutching Allie as tightly as he dared, he strained his eyes into the dusky turmoil around him, a part of his mind aware that the child who clung silently to his side was limping painfully.

    Suddenly aware that Allie's breathing was becoming more shallow, that she was going cold in his arms, Delaney was swept with a wild, overwhelming fear. Reacting violently to it, he increased his pace almost to a run, as he tried to convince himself that fate could not be so cruel. He could not have found Allie again simply to lose her!

Chapter Twenty

    A pinpoint of light appeared in the darkness. It grew gradually larger, beckoning her forward, but Allie's struggle to reach its flickering glow was fraught with pain. Her body ached, and the pounding agony in her head was a burden she could not escape. It impaled her with each stabbing thrust, weakening her.

    A rumble of voices reached her from beyond the dark tunnel that imprisoned her. Her mind separated a child's sob and a familiar male voice from the muddled sound, filling her with anxiety.

    The anguished sobs grew louder, and Allie despaired. She knew that sound. She recognized its pain. With an excruciating effort, she began moving toward the light. Her breath quickened as the glowing circle widened to reveal strange faces, concerned frowns.

    "Doctor, the patient seems to be regaining consciousness."

    A practiced hand touched her brow, and an unfamiliar voice spoke words she did not quite comprehend. She felt a small, anxious hand slip into hers, and she heard a halting, whispered appeal. Margaret.

    There was movement beside her, and a gasp escaped Allie's    throat as clear, translucent eyes met her gaze. It was a familiar dream, an image that haunted her, but she knew she would be free of it if she could summon the courage to dismiss it once and for all.

    Margaret's sobs grew louder, bewildering her. Dream or reality, she was unsure, but she could not ignore her daughter's appeal.

    With an effort that exhausted the last reservoirs of her strength, Allie willed her hand closed. She experienced a brief elation as her fingers curled around the small hand clutching hers, holding it fast. The sobbing ceased, and she squeezed harder, holding tightly to Margaret's hand in unspoken promise until the light faded away.

    Relief softened the tired lines of Dr. Willis's face as he turned toward Delaney with a weary smile. "It's my guess that this young woman has just taken her first step toward recovery."

    Standing beside the bed in the guest room of his house, where he had kept vigil since he placed Allie there almost twenty-four hours before, Delaney gave a short nod. His stiff muscles ached with fatigue and the stress of the hours past, and he was not satisfied with the doctor's comment.

    "How much longer do you think it'll be before she'll be totally conscious?"

    "I'm a physician, Mr. Marsh, not a prophet. This woman has had a very close call. Her body suffered a severe shock, which she very nearly did not survive. The laceration on her forehead is superficial, but she is severely concussed. Her shoulder is seriously traumatized, her ankle is broken. In addition to that, she's badly bruised and in considerable pain. The only positive statement I can make at this time is that although it's difficult to ascertain internal problems, I believe there is no serious injury. Her response to her daughter shows she's in control of her faculties and that she is strong-willed enough to battle the trauma she has suffered. My belief is that, from this point on, rest will cure far better than any medicine I might administer."

    Pausing, the aging doctor sighed briefly. "I must say I'm pleased to be able to speak these words to you. She's a lovely young woman, and there's been enough tragedy already in the wake of the accident."

    Aware of the older man's fatigue, Delaney did not press him further. Watching as Dr. Willis dropped a few things back into his bag and reached for his coat, Delaney turned to the nurse who stood watchfully a few steps away.

    ''Miss Hatcher, I'm going to see Dr. Willis out now. When I return, you can put Margaret to bed."

    "I want to stay with my mother!"

    Turning to study the child who still clung tightly to her mother's hand, Delaney frowned. She was the image of Allie, and she obviously possessed her mother's courage as well. Concealed as Allie had been beneath the wreckage, she might have gone unnoticed until it was too late had the girl not had the presence of mind to seek help. He would be forever grateful to the child for that, but gratitude was the only emotion he could manage. She was Allie's daughter, but somehow he could not seem to forgive her for being James's child as well.

    "Your room is nearby if your mother should need you."

    "Mama always needs me. She"

    Dr. Willis interrupted with a gentle smile. "Your mother needs rest and quiet now more than she needs your company, dear." Noting that the girl's stubborn expression had not softened, he continued in a kindly tone, "It will be far better if you get some rest now. You may spend all day tomorrow with your mother if Mr. Marsh agrees. She will need you to help her when she finally awakens. Your mother would agree, I'm sure."

    Turning back to the bed without response, Margaret buried her face against her mother's arm. Dr. Willis moved toward the door. When it closed behind Delaney and him, he shrugged. "You really can't blame the child, can you? She's had a terrible fright, and she doesn't want to let her mother out of her sight. I suggest you tread lightly."

    "It was not my intention to beat the child into submission, Doctor."

    "Appearances would make it seem otherwise." Dr. William Willis's bushy gray brows drew together in a frown as he walked down the stairs beside Delaney. "There it is again. If looks could kill…" He shook his head. "Well, I suppose we're all tired and could use some sleep. Miss Hatcher is an excellent nurse, and there's no need for you to remain by Mrs. Case's bedside through the night. I gave Margaret some good advice     just now. I'll give the same to you. Get some rest, and when Mrs. Case needs you, you'll be there for her."

    At the front door Delaney extended his hand toward the stooped physician as he prepared to leave. "Thank you, Dr. Willis."

    "You've thanked me several times, Mr. Marsh, and you've not argued with a word of my advice. So why is it I get the feeling that the moment I leave this house you'll do exactly as you see fit?"

    "You may rest assured Mrs. Case's treatment will follow the exact guidelines you detailed."

    "And the rest of my advice be damned."

    Not bothering to respond, Delaney drew open the door. "Will you stop by in the morning?"

    "On my way to the hospital. Every retired physician in the city has been called out for this emergency. If there's any difficulty during the night, remember, I live only a few houses down the street." At the dark knitting of Delaney's brow, Dr. Willis added hastily, "I said
if
there's a problem. I don't anticipate there will be."

    A short nod was the only reply he received. Dr. Willis studied Delaney briefly with a narrowed gaze before turning to make a stiff descent down the front steps.

    Waiting until the doctor stepped onto the sidewalk, Delaney closed the front door and started rapidly back up the staircase.

    Two steps into the sickroom and Delaney knew he would receive no further argument from Margaret that night. Still seated at her mother's side, her head resting on the bed, the child was asleep.

    Lifting Margaret in his arms, Delaney signaled the nurse to follow as he carried her to the bedroom at the end of the hall. He laid her carefully on the bed, then gestured to the young nurse to follow him outside again. Closing the door behind them, he spoke in a whisper. "Take care not to awaken her when you prepare her for bed. She's exhausted and not reasonable at this point. You may have difficulty handling her. I think you'll be comfortable sleeping on the chaise longue beside her. There are extra blankets in the wardrobe."

    Confusion touched the young nurse's round face. "I had expected to care for Mrs. Case."

    "I'll stay with Mrs. Case tonight. The child may need you if she awakens during the night."

    Not awaiting the young nurse's response, Delaney turned and strode back up the hall, relieved to hear the click of the bedroom door behind him.

    Delaney approached the bed and looked down into Allie's face. The disbelief with which he had first viewed her amid the wreckage of the train was undiminished. Incredibly relieved to be alone with her at last, he needed time just to look at her, to allow his thoughts to filter free of the myriad emotions that had assailed him since he found her unconscious. The only clear-cut thought that had emerged through his shock and fear was the realization that he had been wrong to think he no longer cared.

    Delaney strained his muddled memory in an attempt to recall the progression of events after discovering Allie and lifting her into his arms. He remembered his panic, his dash to the closest carriage, Margaret clinging to her mother's skirt as he dragged her along beside him. He could not remember the argument he had used to persuade the reluctant driver to take them immediately back to the city, but he recalled his anxiety upon their arrival at the hospital when he learned that it was filled to the limit and there was no room for Allie. It was then that he had remembered Dr. Willis.