by Stacy Eaton
I swallowed a huge lump in my throat and managed to move my head the slightest bit. The woman with the beautiful green eyes was leaning over me, and her honey-blond hair hung over her shoulder a few inches from my face. I wondered how soft her hair was.
Someone squeezed my hand, and I realized that she was holding it. I tried to squeeze back, but the small movement caused more pain to shoot through my body.
“Hold on, Tucker, just hold on.” She ran her hand over my brow again, and I wanted to sigh at the coolness of her touch.
Another ding vibrated my eardrum annoyingly, and we were moving again. The temperature around us quickly grew colder, and I began to shiver, causing the pain to radiate through me.
“Tucker, I know you are cold, but we need you that way. Give us just a couple of minutes, and we are going to put you to sleep, and you won’t notice anymore. Just hold on.”
“Name?” I asked huskily.
“Josey Napier. I’m friends with Walker Hunt and Jasmine Willows.” Her face was only a few inches from mine, and I wanted so badly to touch it. It took all the strength I had in me, but I lifted my hand and let it slide over the soft skin of her cheek.
I tried to smile just the tiniest bit. Of course, I knew her. I had saved Jasmine’s son, Tony, last March when he had slipped under some ice. Since that time, Walker, Jasmine, Tony, and I had become very close friends. I’d met Josey a few times, always taking a moment to enjoy the view, but afraid to ask her out. She seemed so far out of my league.
“Tucker, you better hold on.” She reciprocated the touch to my face. “Don’t make me tell Tony that you didn’t make it.”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“I have to get ready for your surgery. You’re in good hands here. Pam and Josh are going to put you to sleep now. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
She squeezed my hand again, and this time I mustered enough energy to return the pressure. As she let go, I felt a moment of panic. What if I didn’t make it through the surgery?
Chapter 3
Josey
Oh, no you don’t, Mr. Tucker Wheatcraft! You are not going to die tonight. Someone silenced the alarm as the paddles came out and everyone cleared for the shock. It took three rounds of electricity to get his heart beating again, and while not perfect, we had a rhythm we could deal with.
People were in and out of the room running tests, gathering supplies, and making phone calls. I stood beside Tucker the whole time, holding his hand. I didn’t know if he would wake up, but if he did, I wanted him to see a face he knew.
A few minutes later, we were wheeling him toward the elevator, and he finally began to rouse. I stayed by his side until he was in the operating room and they were preparing to put him to sleep.
I was scrubbing in when Dr. Aarush Patel, the head surgeon, arrived. “Josey, how is the patient?”
“From the X-rays they took downstairs, the upper torso appears to be intact with no real damage, although the stress of his injuries crashed him. The bullet wound is to his stomach cavity, there are fragments scattered around his abdomen, I think I saw five or six pieces. One of those pieces was so close to the spinal column, I couldn’t tell if it was embedded or not. His left leg has an open femoral fracture that looked to be more middle. I don’t know that he will be strong enough yet for that surgery, not with the stress on the heart right now, but the orthopedic surgeon should take a look and start planning.”
“Anything else?” Dr. Patel asked as he continued to scrub.
“I can’t say for certain, but his pelvis appeared to have shifted. I only got a quick look at it. I was more concerned with the bullet fragments.”
“Very good.” Dr. Patel called out behind him to Temperance, “Make sure we have a neurologist and an orthopedist brought in, please.”
“Already called for the ortho, I’ll have Ruth Anne page the neurologist.” She spun and was out the door.
Through the glass looking into the operating room, I stared at Tucker as they prepared him.
“You alright?” Dr. Patel inquired.
“Yeah, I know him.”
Another voice cut in, “It’s not going to be a problem to be in there, is it, Josey?”
Over my shoulder I saw our second surgeon, Dr. Michael Demario joining us at the wash area.
“Oh, no.” I shook my head as I began to rinse. “I know who he is, I don’t really know him. He’s friends with Dr. Hunt. Tucker is the off-duty police officer who rescued his son from the water earlier this year.”
Dr. Demario nodded, “I remember hearing about that.”
I explained to Dr. Demario what I had already told Dr. Patel as I finished up and found Jennifer, our scrub nurse, standing behind me waiting with a sterile towel to dry. As soon as I was done with that, she helped me gown and glove up and then assisted the doctors.
The surgery was long, and twice Temperance had popped her head in to get updates for the police department. I wondered if Walker and Jasmine had shown up or if the waiting room was only full of police officers here to support a brother. Did Tucker have a wife and kids?
From what the orthopedic surgeon had said, Tucker was going to have a long battle with his recovery. Not only had his femoral bone shattered in several places, but his pelvis was shifted from the impact, and the neurologist confirmed that the shift had put pressure on his spinal cord. There was a chance that Tucker might never walk again, and the possibility of him never going back into police work was quite real.
How crazy was society that when a criminal did something wrong and was killed by the police, other citizens felt justified in starting a riot? It just didn’t make sense. Police were targets now, and the thought sickened me.
When we were done, the orthopedist, neurologist, and Dr. Patel all cleaned up to speak with family. Dr. Patel paused by the door, “Josey, do you want to come, too?”
“Sure.”
I wasn’t needed, but depending on who was in the waiting room, I might be able to lend a hand. I followed the doctors down the hall to one of our larger waiting rooms. We’d been told everyone had been moved there because of the volume of people present.
When I stepped into the room, I paused beside the doctors. There must have been forty people present, many of them dressed in uniform. I scanned over the hushed crowd as they all waited expectantly.
Dr. Patel stepped forward, “I need to speak with the family of Tucker Wheatcraft.”
A young pretty woman about my age stepped forward. “I’m Marisha, his sister. My parents are on their way.”
Dr. Patel shook her hand as a police officer with a lot of gold trim on his uniform jacket stood behind her. “I’m Assistant Chief Douglas. This is one of our chaplains, Steven Arnolds. We’ve been sitting with Ms. Wheatcraft.” The doctors shook their hands all around and introduced themselves before ushering them all out.
I was about to follow them when a hand snaked out and grabbed my elbow.
“Josey, how is Tuck?”
I turned to find Walker, Jasmine, Colt, and Ember all desperate for some news. Behind them, a sea of faces looked on. There was a huge line of patient privacy that could be crossed right that second, and I had to decide how much to say in public.
“Walker, you know I can’t say much.”
“Is he going to be alright?” Jasmine’s voice trembled as she asked.
I squeezed her forearm. “I sure hope so. We just finished with one surgery, he is going to need at least one more, but it is going to have to wait until at least tomorrow.”
Colt and Walker shared a look while one of the officers behind him called out, “At least tell us if he is out of the woods.”
“He’s in critical but stable condition right now. As soon as the family has been notified of his condition, I am sure they will share more with you. I wish I could, but I just can’t.” There were some groans and muttering around the room, but no one asked any further questions.
I turned to leave and heard Walker speaking to Jasmine. I kne
w he was going to follow me out, and I expected Colt to also, but he stayed behind.
“One medical professional to another, how bad is he, Josey?”
“Not good, Walker. He coded in the emergency room, he had shrapnel from the bullet scattered throughout his abdomen, his pelvis is tilted and putting pressure on his spine, and his femur is broken in multiple places. He wasn’t strong enough to undergo the orthopedic surgery. They are hoping that tomorrow he will be. The longer they wait to shift his pelvis, the worse it’s going to be.”
Walker stared at the floor, the muscle in the side of his jaw tensing as he thought of the implications. “Do they think he will walk again?”
“I don’t know, Walker. It’s too soon to tell.” I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his waist, “I’m so sorry, I know how close you guys have gotten.”
Walker hugged me back, “Yeah, I’m okay, but I’m worried about Jasmine. Tuck has become like a brother to her.”
“I’m sure.” I pulled back. “Look, I want to get up to recovery and be there for him when he wakes up. He recognized me when he came in, so I want a familiar face there when he comes out of the anesthesia. I promise I’ll let you know personally if anything else comes up.”
“Thanks, Josey.”
“Give Jasmine a hug for me,” I told him before I kissed his cheek and turned away.
Sometimes when I saw Walker, the old feelings came back, and I wanted to do everything I could to get close to him. I knew he loved Jasmine, but that didn’t make the pain hurt any less that the man I loved didn’t love me back. I was glad that he had someone so wonderful in his life. But it kind of made me feel worse because I just couldn’t let go of the feelings for him just yet. I knew in time they would fade, but for now, I sucked it up.
I sighed as I hit the button to call the elevator. I wanted to take a quick shower and change before I went to sit by Tucker’s bed.
Fifteen minutes later, I found his recovery room nurse, Marie, standing over him checking some of the wires on his chest.
“Any problems?” I asked as I joined her.
“No, one of the leads got loose, I’m just adjusting it. After his code down in the ER, I want to make sure he is monitored closely.”
“I assume he is going up to ICU?” I stood near the side of his bed studying the monitor.
“Yeah, his room is ready for him. Does he have a wife?” she asked as she glanced at the monitor and then typed something into the computer beside the bed.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. His sister was in the waiting room and mentioned his parents, but no one mentioned a wife.”
“Well, I guess that’s good, although he is going to have a rough recovery. I guess he’ll be doing some time in a rehab facility since he probably doesn’t have someone to take care of him at home.”
“Probably,” I murmured as I studied his pale features.
Marie wandered away, and I brushed my fingers over his cheekbone. He had incredibly sharp cheekbones and dark hair cut short and parted on the side. His full lips had better coloring now than they’d had earlier and sat attractively over a solid square chin. If I remembered correctly, his eyes were green, darker than mine, but still an entrancing shade. I even studied his ears, which were sized perfectly and sat close to his head.
Wow, I’d never noticed a man’s ears before. I found myself chuckling softly, and Tucker’s head turned slightly toward me.
“Tucker,” I called to him tenderly, “Tucker, can you hear me?” He moaned slightly, and then his eyelids flickered. “Tuck, can you open your eyes for me?”
His eyelids wiggled again as if he were trying to open them, and finally he pried them open a bit more before closing and opening them again.
“There you go,” I took his hand in mine. “That’s it, open your eyes.”
He blinked a few times, each one wider until he seemed to be able to see, and he turned his head more fully toward me.
“Hey,” he said huskily.
“Shh, don’t try to talk just yet.” I brushed his cheek again. “You had a long hard surgery. Just rest. Your sister is here, and your parents are on the way. You can see them in a little while.”
He nodded and closed his eyes again, falling instantly back to sleep. For the next fifteen minutes, I stood by his side, gently brushing the hair from his forehead and keeping hold of his hand. At one point, I tried to let go, but his grip tightened, and I remained beside him until he woke up again.
This time, he seemed to wake up faster as the drugs were wearing off. “How bad?” he asked.
“Shh, there is plenty of time to talk about that later. Just rest right now, Tucker. The worst is over, just rest.”
As he drifted off again, I wondered how badly I had just lied to him. I had no doubt that once he heard he might not walk again properly or return to his job, he might consider that worse than the surgery he had just endured.
Chapter 4
Tucker
I knew I’d been hit by a car, but I felt more like I had been slammed into a brick wall by a train. Even with all the drugs they’d pumped into me, every inch of my body throbbed.
I barely remembered waking in the recovery room, and the only thing I did remember about that was the nurse with the light green eyes being there, holding my hand, and brushing the hair off my forehead. I’d never been a touchy-feely kind of guy, but I had to admit that those gentle caresses had relaxed me more than the drugs that were coursing through my system.
What was her name again? I pondered for a moment, ah, yes, Josey. That was her name. She was friends with Walker and Jasmine. I’d seen her a time or two at get-togethers.
I tried to shift in my bed, but a thousand little knives stabbed me in every place possible south of my neck. A groan left my lips even while I fought to hold it in.
“Tuck, you awake?” Marisha’s voice grabbed my attention. I felt her hand on my arm and turned toward her voice. Other than the pounding inside my skull, that was about the only part of me that didn’t scream in pain with any movement.
“Mari,” I whispered.
She wiped at her eyes. “I didn’t think you were going to make it. They said it was bad, and I thought we might lose you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not going to,” I replied and tried to wet my lips with my sandpaper tongue. “Water?”
She hustled to the door, calling to a nurse. A moment later, a woman dressed in light blue scrubs walked in. “Officer Wheatcraft, it’s nice to have you back. I’m Angela, your nurse for the rest of the day.”
“Hi.” That was about all that was going to come out of my scorched mouth.
She poured water into a cup on my bed tray and positioned a bendy straw in it. “You’re going to have to do this lying down. I can’t raise you up just yet.”
“Fine.” I’d do it hanging upside down if I had to.
She held the straw to my lips and I sucked in a mouthful.
“Slowly, Tucker, you don’t want to make yourself sick.”
I let the water sit in my mouth for a moment and swished it around before I swallowed small amounts of it at a time. She seemed to approve of my method because she kept the straw near my lips for me to take a second mouthful. After that one, she removed it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as my sister hovered on the other side of the bed.
“Like the Amtrak ran off the tracks and crushed me into the wall.”
“Oh, that good, huh?” She grinned. “At least you seem to have a sense of humor about it.”
“You gotta have a sense of humor,” I replied. “So did what happened to me?”
“I just paged your doctor. He will be here soon, and he can fill you in. Why don’t you just rest for a little while longer?”
She patted my arm, gave my sister a reassuring smile, and left the room. My sister looked everywhere but at me.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “I was worried about you.”
“No, somet
hing’s wrong.” I lifted my head as much as I could and stared down over my body to make sure it was all attached. I could see legs under the sheets, although my left one was heavily bandaged.
I remembered the SUV had struck me on the left side as I’d turned. It had hit me so damned hard I’d gone airborne. I closed my eyes and saw it happen all over again: The rush of the air, the thud on the pavement, the pain as it rocked through me, and then the kid standing over me with the gun.
Jesus, he had shot me—not in the head, but in the stomach. When Camille had jumped on his back, the gun had lowered, and he’d pulled the trigger. I turned to my sister. “Where’s Camille? Is she alright?”
“Your partner is fine. She’s upset, of course, but she’s not hurt.”
“She saved my life,” I declared, and my sister hung her head. “Marisha, what the hell aren’t you telling me?”
“Hey, you’re awake and talking,” a voice interrupted my interrogation.
I turned to toward the door and found Josey entering. She wasn’t wearing medical scrubs like the last time I had seen her. My eyes drifted over her sleeveless shirt and noted the toned biceps. I liked a woman who took care of herself.
“I am, except no one is telling me anything,” I complained as I tried to shift again and groaned.
“Well, I’ll tell you this,” she approached the bed, “you don’t want to move if you don’t have to.”
“What the hell is wrong with me?” For a second, I saw something flash in her eyes, and I wondered if it was pity.
“You just went through a traumatic experience, Tucker, and you had a very long and intense surgery. You’re going to hurt for a while. I believe the surgeon is on his way up to talk to you.”
“Why don’t you tell me, Josey?”
“It’s not my place to, Tucker.” She fisted her hands on her hips in a no-nonsense way. Why did I find that hot and seriously annoying at the same time?
I huffed and stared at the ceiling. Obviously, some bad shit had happened because no one wanted to tell me what was going on. Fine, I’d figure it out on my own. Slowly, I tried to move the muscles in my body, my fingers wiggled, my wrists rotated, although my left one hurt more. My elbows seemed to bend, and I could just shrug my shoulders enough to tell they worked, although the movement hurt like hell.