by Jen Peters
“Thank you, that means a lot,” Adam said.
She shook her head. “Well, for Samuel too, but mostly…Brock knows the general area I’m in. That postcard you mailed for me from Grand Junction? Mom actually told a friend of hers. In public. Where Brock just happened to be stalking her.”
Adam sucked his breath in and closed his eyes. He squeezed her hand, then said, “We need to call the police here.”
Relief flooded Maddy. “I was hoping you’d say that. Mr. Wilkins and the Denver police still say he’d never find me, but I’d really like someone here to be on the lookout for him too.” She couldn’t believe how much better she felt now that Adam knew. Adam, who was on her side. Who had never judged her for any of this.
He pulled her close now, looked deeply into her eyes. She could see love and concern in his. What did he see in hers?
“We’ll keep you safe. You know that, don’t you?” He brushed a lock of curls away from her face, then wrapped his arms completely around her.
Her own hands went up to his broad shoulders. He was strong through and through, this cowboy of hers, and her arms didn’t even reach around him. Maddy tipped his cowboy hat off, ran her hands through his hair, then pulled his head down for a kiss.
Adam and the rest of the family gathered in the living room to eat Uncle Dirt’s steak and chili instead of joining the ranch hands in the large kitchen. They’d moved the old table into the middle of the room, and all six Blacks, with Maddy sitting next to Adam and Mia next to her, fit easily around it.
The room was homey, the steak perfectly medium-rare, the chili spicy as only Uncle Dirt could make it. With the aroma of the food mixed with the ranch dust clinging to all of them, it should have felt as comfortable as a summer trail ride.
But Adam fidgeted. In his mind, he had pictured this conversation with just his two brothers. Including Maddy wasn’t a problem—as long as he could keep his mind off her problems—but how could they talk about all in front of Dad? At the same time, how could they leave him out?
He wished he could just take Maddy for a walk. They could swing Mia between them—she loved that—and look at the calves still in the pasture while they ignored the news about Brock. Maybe they could even try counting the stars.
But that wouldn’t solve anything, so Adam inhaled deeply, took a long swallow of soda, and spoke. “Dad, I know we don’t have answers from the tests yet, but we thought it might be good to sort of, well, start talking about plans.”
Dad glared at him. “I’m not going to one of those homes.”
“That’s not what we’re thinking,” Adam said. “But there’s a lot of work on this ranch that you do—”
“I can still work,” Dad retorted.
Caleb and Micah looked to Adam, but stayed silent.
“We know you can, Dad,” Adam said. “But maybe it’s time to—”
“I’m not going to wobble tingle sworn,” Dad said.
“Huh?” Adam looked around the table to find the others in as much shock as he was. “Say that again, Dad.”
“They darn suh you. Not sleep hound am sidee wife.” Dad threw his napkin onto the remains of his steak and stomped out.
Adam sat, stunned, then shot into life. “Call the doctor!” He rushed after his father.
In his bedroom, the older man sat slumped on his bed. He looked at Adam with watery, confused eyes. “Ton bell, turtle.”
Adam didn’t know what his father had said. He didn’t know how to fix this. He could only sit beside him. Put his arm around him. And wait.
Maddy came in after a few minutes. She knelt in front of Samuel and put her hands on his knees. “This is pretty scary, isn’t it?” she said.
Dad nodded.
“To be honest, it’s pretty scary for all of us, too. But help is coming and we’ll get through it together. Would it be okay if we prayed?”
Adam gave a mental shake of the head. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He squeezed Dad’s shoulder while Maddy prayed for strength and guidance, but he wondered why she didn’t ask for healing as well. Surely God could bring this suffering to an end.
It was a long half-hour before the wail of a siren grew closer. He had expected his brothers to call Dr. Jacobs, not an ambulance, but he supposed it was for the best. Dr. Jacobs couldn’t do anything over the phone, anyway.
The EMTs were kind and efficient, and Dad was hooked to oxygen, given an aspirin, and loaded into the ambulance before Adam could even think straight. “Wait, I’m coming with him!”
He clambered in and held his father’s hand as the doors shut. He heard Caleb call out, “We’ll meet you there!” before the ambulance whisked them down to Grand Junction.
30
“It was a TIA—a mini-stroke,” the ER doctor said. “He’s recovering quickly, and you can go in.” He looked at the group of them. “Two at a time.”
Adam squeezed Maddy’s hand, glad she had left Mia with Uncle Dirt, and looked at the others. “Who’s first?”
Caleb glanced around, then turned back to Adam. “Why don’t you and Lacey go. We’ll wait here with Maddy.”
Adam took a deep breath and pushed through the door to the treatment area. Lacey followed the nurse to a draped-off cubicle and held the curtain open for Adam.
Dad lay propped up in a narrow bed, his face covered by an oxygen mask and wires running from monitoring machines to his chest. “Hey, kids,” he said, lifting the mask to speak.
Lacey rushed to his side. “You had us scared, Dad. Don’t ever do that again!”
Adam just stood there, relief washing over him. After the morning’s cold, sterile rooms and complicated tests, of course his father would be worn out and stressed. He was just grateful to still have him around and doing well—a stroke could be serious business.
He finally convinced his feet to move and joined his sister by the side of the bed. “We’re going to get some answers now, Dad. It will be okay.”
His father looked at Adam like he was a clueless child. “Right. I just want to go home.”
A doctor came in, a young, swarthy man with a day’s scruff for a beard. “Samuel? Good, your family got here. I’m Dr. Abernathy from Neurology. I wouldn’t normally have made it over so soon, but I had a—well, I’m here. I’ve requested some tests for you, Samuel. An MRI, CT scan and ultrasound, among others. And I’d like to admit you for observation for a day or two.”
Adam nodded slowly. Dad grumbled. “I have to stay here? But I’m fine.”
“Dad, don’t argue,” Lacey said.
“You might be feeling fine,” Dr. Abernathy said, “but we want to get the full picture of what’s happening. And prevent a more serious stroke.
“Uh, Doctor?” Adam spoke up. “He just had an MRI today.”
Dr. Abernathy flipped through his tablet. “So he did. Good, I’ll put a note for the radiologists to do a full read tonight.” He looked at his watch. “It’s nine-thirty now. I’ll be back for rounds early tomorrow. Is there any chance the family can be here about seven? We’ll need to talk.”
“Of course,” Adam said. The doctor left, and Adam met Lacey’s glance. He could see the worry in his sister’s eyes. “It’s all good, Lace. It’s only a mini-stroke, and Dr. Abernathy sounds like he’s good. He’s decisive and knows what he’s doing. Dad’s going to be fine.”
“Not unless you quit talking about me like I’m not here!” Dad grumbled. “And I don’t see why I have to—”
A nurse pulled the curtain back. Stern and strongly built, she took command. “Let’s get you quieted down, Samuel. You two, out. We want his blood pressure dropping, not rising. Tell the others they can come visit in fifteen minutes.” She shooed them into the hallway and pulled the curtain closed again.
“Huh,” Adam said, looking at the cubicle in amazement. “I’d like to see her and Dad in a battle of wills.”
Lacey shook her head. “Not today. Dad needs to stay calm, not get all riled up again.”
They walked through the exit do
or to where everyone else was waiting. Adam explained what the doctor had said and grinned as he described the nurse.
“So tonight’s a waiting game,” Micah mused. “Dad can’t be happy about having to stay here.”
“We’ve all spent enough time in Emergency Rooms,” Caleb said. “It’ll take until the middle of the night to get all the tests done. He’ll be glad for a bed when they’re finished with him.”
Adam felt Maddy slip her hand in his. It felt warm and comforting, and he drew her knuckles to his lips for a kiss. “I hope we get answers tomorrow. There has to be a reason for all this.”
They sat silently for twenty minutes, except for Caleb pacing. He finally went to the nurses’ station, pointed out how long it had been, and got permission to go back.
Thirty seconds later, he returned. “They were just taking him over to Radiology,” he growled. “I barely got to wave to him.”
Adam sighed. “We may as well go home. There’s not much we can do here except get exhausted ourselves.”
Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and stood with legs splayed and locked. “I’m staying. He shouldn’t be alone.”
Adam opened his mouth, then closed it. “If you want.”
“I’m staying, too,” Lacey announced.
“No,” Adam and Caleb said at the same time.
“You can’t do anything here, and you need to be bright and cheery for him in the morning, Lace,” Adam said. “Caleb, I’ll have Wes take care of the horses in the morning.”
Caleb relaxed. “Thanks. And bring me some decent coffee when you come back!”
In the early morning, Micah agreed to stay behind long enough to give out the ranch assignments. He’d miss the meeting with the doctor, but would stay longer with Dad afterwards. Uncle Dirt would keep Mia again so Maddy could accompany Adam, but he sent a Thermos of extra-strong coffee in for Caleb. “You tell old Sam if he’s tough enough to deal with hospital food, I’ll send him some coffee, too.”
Adam snorted when he poked his head in the hospital room at six-thirty. Dad was dozing in his hospital bed, but Caleb was sprawled uncomfortably across two chairs, somehow still sound asleep. Adam backed out and motioned to the others. The nurse promised to call them when Dr. Abernathy arrived, and they returned to the waiting room.
The minute hand on the waiting room’s old-fashioned clock moved with irritating slowness. Lacey kept popping up and down from her chair until Adam put a hand on her arm to keep her still.
Maddy, on the other hand, rested her hand on Adam’s back, rubbing his shirt lightly. The contact helped keep the worry at bay, soothing and comforting, as only Maddy’s touch seemed to do.
They sat in silence amongst the comings and goings of other families. Lacey drifted off to sleep, and Maddy’s hand moved slower and slower. Adam was left with his thoughts wandering down disturbing paths. His father wouldn’t be totally crippled from this mini-stroke, but what did it mean for the future?
A hospital aide finally approached them. “The doctor is here.”
Adam nudged Lacey awake and pulled Maddy to her feet. Inside Dad’s room, Dr. Abernathy put the scans of his head and neck against a light board and spoke briskly. “Samuel, you’ve got some major blockage of your carotid arteries going on.” He pointed to white areas. “There’s hardly any room for blood flow, and frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t had a full stroke yet.”
Maddy gasped and Adam stared. He looked at the scans and wondered how his father wasn’t plain dead yet.
“You’re not overweight; you haven’t smoked in twenty years. Your cholesterol is quite high, though, and these blockages are what’s causing all your problems.”
Dr. Abernathy looked at the expectant faces surrounding him. “The good news is that we can fix this surgically. We’ll make an incision into the artery, clean out the plaque, and stitch it up again. On both sides.”
Dad paled.
“How dangerous is it?” Caleb asked.
“Will this get him back to normal?” was Adam’s question.
Dr. Abernathy turned to Caleb. “Every surgery has risks, but this is a quite common solution and most people do just fine. The important point is that it’s far less risky than spending even a short time more with them blocked.
“Your question is more complicated,” he said, looking first at Adam and then at Dad. He changed the image on the screen. “The MRI shows the damage that’s been done. See these areas here and here?” He looked back at Dad. “That’s where the brain cells have died from lack of oxygen—the blood wasn’t getting to them because of the plaque in your arteries. And the temporal lobe, where these are located, is what controls things like speech and language.”
Dad’s eyes were hooded, and Adam couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Adam looked at the images and thought he understood. “That explains his speech problem with the mini-stroke, but what about his memory and confusion?”
“Problems filtering conversations, forgetfulness, not being able to focus—those are all controlled by the temporal lobe,” Dr. Abernathy said.
It wasn’t Alzheimer’s. It wasn’t Alzheimers. Adam repeated that to himself a few times, then asked, “So what do we do about it?” Whatever it took, he’d do it. They had the money. His father would get the best care available—therapies, surgeries, medication, whatever.
Dr. Abernathy shook his head. “‘I’m sorry, once brain tissue has died, it’s irreversible. All we can do is try to prevent more damage.”
Adam felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t open his mouth to protest. He was only dimly aware that Maddy was hugging him.
He looked at his father, who lay with eyes closed, hands gripping the sheet.
Someone was saying something—one of his brothers—but Adam couldn’t comprehend the words. He shook his head, but nothing cleared. Pushing Maddy away, he found the door through tear-filled eyes and left the room.
In the hallway, Adam took great gulps of air. He wasn’t used to losing control like this. Then again, he’d never had to face not having his father back before.
Dear God, why this? He’s so strong and vibrant. How can you let this happen, especially after Mom?
His heart heard nothing. His ears heard only a cart’s squeaky wheel and the orderly’s soft shoes following it.
No whisper from God. No reassuring feeling that things would be all right. No guidance on what to do.
He was alone.
31
Tears welled in Maddy’s eyes as she watched Adam leave. He had pushed her away, withdrawn into himself, and left his siblings and father to cope with the news as best they could.
She couldn’t really blame him—he needed to be in control of situations, especially the outcomes, and hadn’t really faced a time when he wasn’t. Not as an adult, anyway. But she was still frustrated that he didn’t lean on all of them. They were family, and families depended on each other.
She hugged Lacey, reached to squeeze Caleb’s arm, then walked over to Samuel. The doctor’s words took up space in her consciousness, but her focus was on her older friend. She took his hand in hers.
“I’m here, Samuel,” Maddy whispered. “We’re all here for you.”
Tears leaked from beneath his closed eyelids. She noticed how thin they seemed, especially compared to the callouses and rough skin of his hands.
She thought of how his life would change. Probably no more paperwork, no more decisions on his own. Maybe even no more being on his own. But he could still be a cowboy. He could still ride and rope and fix fences. He could still pass on his hard-earned wisdom and experiences. At least if…
“Dr. Abernathy?” Maddy said, interrupting Lacey’s words to Caleb. “You said the damage is permanent. If he has the surgery—”
“He’ll have it,” Caleb said.
“—and that fixes the main problem, does that mean his other symptoms won’t get worse? The memory and concentration issues won’t progress?�
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Lacey’s mouth formed an O, and Dr. Abernathy looked thoughtful.
“Chances are, no,” the doctor said. “There could be some lesions that get worse, but if this is all occlusion-related, then he should stabilize.”
Maddy could feel the relief in the room. Samuel opened his eyes again, and she met his gaze with a smile.
“So when’s the operation?” Lacey asked.
“As soon as possible. Depends on when there’s an opening in the O.R. schedule. Which means,” Dr. Abernathy said, turning to Samuel, “no breakfast for you. And probably no lunch.”
Samuel grimaced, then brightened. “If what I hear about hospital food is true, then I guess it’s no great loss.”
Dr. Abernathy chuckled as he left, and Maddy backed away from Samuel’s bed to let Caleb in closer. She wanted to check on Adam, anyway.
The hallway was empty of guests; Maddy finally found him slumped in a corner of the waiting room. She knelt in front of him. “You okay?”
Adam twisted his cowboy hat in his hands and shook his head. “Dad’s never going to be the same, and I can’t do anything about it. I already lost one parent—I don’t want to lose two!”
Maddy took the hat from him, brushed it off, and set it down carefully before taking his hands in hers. “You listen to me, Adam Black. There’s a lot you can’t change in this world—you know that. But your dad is still your dad. He’s still the man who raised you, who taught you how to ride and how to rope. And how to be the man you are. You’re not giving up now, are you?”
His eyes were bleak when they finally met hers. “There’s nothing to give up on. It’s final. And God’s taking a back seat to it all, just like He did before.”
“It’s not final,” she shot back.
Adam stared at the wall. “God stayed away when Mom was killed by that drunk driver. He could have saved her, but He didn’t. He saved the driver instead.”
Maddy leaned forward, pulled his head to her shoulder and just held him as her heart cried. He didn’t make a sound, but she could feel him shudder a time or two.