by Lyn Cote
All her hopes had been here, getting help here. She sagged against the fireplace. “What can I do then? What if Rachel can’t breathe?”
Jake put an arm around her. “I’ll come. But I’m a vet. I can’t prescribe drugs for or treat humans.” Bummer whined as if he knew something was very wrong.
“Tell you what,” Mike said. “I parked my snowmobile in the barn the last time I used it. Use that and take Amy up behind you.”
“That’s right,” Dan said, sounding encouraging. “I’ve got my cell. Jake, you can assess Rachel’s condition and call me with her symptoms. If she needs me, I’ll come. But you go first and see if she’s critical.”
Jake opened his mouth and then closed it.
“Amy,” Dan continued earnestly, “I’m taking it for granted that you know that a child with a cough or congestion is better in a cool, but not cold room, right?”
Amy nodded. “Yes, I’ve got the wood stove keeping us warm. But Rachel is across the room, not near it. And I don’t have her all bundled up. I am a certified nursing assistant, but I can’t do more than I have. She’s got a bad fever and her breathing is labored. She’s spit up blood traces, too. I understand enough to know those are bad signs.”
Dan looked more serious at this. Bummer woofed as if urging action.
“Okay,” Dan urged Jake, “go. I know you don’t want to have anything to do with a snowmobile. But you remember how to use one. Look at Amy. You can’t think of making her trudge through a blizzard twice.”
Amy hung on each word. Jake had to come. He must.
“Just follow the fence line and you’ll be fine,” Mike said.
“Call me when you get there,” Dan said. “Examine the child and tell me what you find. Mike, will you get him my stethoscope from my room. You can listen to her lungs for congestion. It’s the same sound in animals or humans. If she needs something, I have some meds in the emergency medical supply I always carry with me.”
Jake hesitated.
Dan made as if to stand. “Jake, if you won’t go, then I’ll have to—”
Jake motioned for his dad to stay on the sofa. “I’m on it. Come on, Amy.”
Her knees were jelly, but she managed to grip Jake’s elbow.
“Get her something dry to wear,” Mike said.
Jake led Amy through the dining room to the kitchen and the back hall. Bummer trailed after them. Jake handed her one of the extra jackets hanging there along with large mittens and a scarf. Her heartbeat thrumming, she struggled into the outerwear, her fingers and toes still numb.
He quickly dressed himself in a one-piece black-and-white snowmobile suit that looked at bit short on him. “Mike’s,” he explained.
Even though she wanted to get home, she grabbed his arm. Worry ratcheted her nerves tighter. “I’ve never ridden a snowmobile.”
“Don’t worry. I remember how.”
“But you haven’t ridden for a long time, right?”
“Right. But it’s like riding a bicycle. I remember.” His tone was grim and Amy thought she knew why. But she couldn’t let anything interfere with taking care of her girls.
Mike came to them and handed Jake a doubled plastic bag, wrapped tight around something narrow. “I put the stethoscope in this.”
Jake nodded. “You go back and stay with Dad. I’ll call when I get there.”
Mike squeezed Jake’s shoulder and turned back, holding onto Bummer’s collar so he couldn’t follow them.
Jake paused and looked into Amy’s eyes. “I tied a line between the barn and the back of the house before the blizzard got up to speed. I put my outdoor dogs in the barn with the shelter animals. I needed to be able to get to them. So we can follow that.” He opened the door and led her out. Bummer bayed wildly against the wind. The snow surrounded them and shoved them against each other.
She clung to Jake’s greater body mass as ballast. He wrapped his arm loosely around her shoulders, shielding her. Ahead, she could see glimpses of the tall red barn flicker between gales of snow.
More and more she leaned into Jake’s embrace. Struggling in the wind, assaulted by the heavy wet snow, her strength lagged. She was panting now and sweating under her jacket while her face, feet and hands numbed again with cold.
* * *
They reached the barn and Jake drew her inside. She bent forward, her hands braced against her knees, gasping for air. The dogs and cats greeted them loudly. Jake shouted to his dogs to be quiet.
He patted her back and then swung a tarp off a snowmobile. He handed her a helmet and donned one himself. “It’s good we’re not going far. I only have one face mask. You hide behind me and keep your head low, okay?”
“Right.” She’d never ridden a snowmobile, but she could hang on from here to Milwaukee if she had to. She could do whatever it took to get Rachel the help she needed.
Straddling the machine, Jake walked it forward. He reached the door, leaned forward to open it and nosed the machine into the storm. After shutting the door, he helped Amy straddle the rear seat and then started the engine.
“Hang on tight!” he called over the wind as he remounted the machine. She hugged his waist. They were off!
Jake leaned his head low, seeking the protection of the windshield. He drove down his drive and when he saw the fence post and mailbox, turned sharply, heading toward the little house on the dead end.
They rode at an angle, following the high side of the roadside drainage ditch. The machine ran rough. Jake glanced down at the gas gauge—only a quarter of a tank. He strained his eyes, keeping track of the fence posts, his only reference point in the white world around them.
He slowed, knowing that the fence would turn soon. He didn’t want to, couldn’t overshoot the fence line. He located the last fence post and hung a left. Not far now. He hated to think of the girls alone in the little house. And of Amy braving the blizzard, alone and on foot, to get help.
Again, the fence turned left. He swung wide around the corner, up the drive to the little house. He tucked the vehicle right inside the shelter of the lean-to where Mike usually kept it.
Amy leaped off, shouldered by him, and rushed inside. “Cassie! Rachel! I’m back with Dr. Jake!”
He turned off the motor and headed in after her. In the kitchen he stripped off his snowmobile suit and set his helmet on the counter. He hurried into the living room. Amy had shed her outerwear on her way to Rachel. She knelt beside the little girl.
Jake ripped open the plastic bags to get the stethoscope. Murmuring soft soothing words to Rachel, he breathed on the metal instrument to warm it and then slid it under the back of her pajama top. “When I press the stethoscope on your skin, take a deep breath for me, okay?”
“Do what he says, Rachel,” Amy coaxed, sitting on the other side of the child.
Rachel tried to obey, but each time she inhaled, she began coughing. Amy murmured and stroked the little girl’s arm.
The other twin hovered nearby, holding both kittens and looking near tears. “Is my sister going to be okay?”
Jake persevered and listened to Rachel’s lungs. He slipped Amy’s thermometer under the girl’s tongue. And he frowned when finding she had a fever of just over one hundred and two degrees. Not dangerous, but not good. When he finished, he hoped to sound reassuring. But he couldn’t evade the truth.
“How is she?” Amy asked.
Jake rose. “I think she does have pneumonia. And—”
Rachel began to shake, her teeth chattering. “Mom,” she moaned. “I’m so cooold.”
Amy looked to him, her face drained of color.
“She’s having chills, another symptom. I’m going to call my dad.”
“Can I give her some more tea with honey?” Amy asked.
“Yes, she needs liquids, and the honey will help soothe her throat and quiet her cough.”
Jake flipped open his cell phone and speed-dialed his dad’s cell.
His father picked up on the first ring. “What did you find?”
“She has a fever of one hundred and two, chills and her lungs are congested.” Jake didn’t try to lower his voice. The girls needed to learn about illness, and Amy needed the facts.
“Then you better come back and get me—”
“Dad, I—”
“Jake, I’m going to give her an antibiotic and an expectorant to break up the congestion. She might not have bacterial pneumonia, but we can’t get her to the hospital for a lab test. Even if she has viral pneumonia, an antibiotic will keep her from developing complications. Come and get me. I’ll be dressed and standing by the back door.” His dad hung up on him.
Jake relayed this to Amy. Shrugging on the snowmobile suit in the kitchen, he looked back to see Amy and Cassie in the doorway watching him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” His stomach did a figure-eight lurch. His dad shouldn’t be out in this harsh weather. Suddenly how much he loved his father flooded him, nearly overflowing into tears. He stepped outside into the gale and swung his leg over the snowmobile. God, keep us safe. Keep Rachel and my dad safe. Lay Your healing hands upon them.
Chapter 12
His father was waiting for him just inside the back door. Hearing his master come in, Bummer bayed from the kitchen. Jake recognized the challenging glint in his dad’s eye. His dad had dressed warmly and had a muffler wrapped around his face. Through the weave of the muffler, Jake glimpsed a white mask over his mouth. Cold like this would dangerously stress his dad’s heart and lungs. Dan climbed on back and Jake zoomed off, his nerves buzzing. I hope Mike’s gas gauge is accurate. God, get us there and back without any bad consequences.
Memories of his mom and brother flashed in his mind as he navigated the storm-ravaged landscape. The half mile had never seemed as far before. At last, he turned up Amy’s drive and zipped into the lean-to. As Dan got off the machine, he staggered.
Jake grabbed his arm and steadied him. Then he swung his leg off the machine and pushed his dad toward the kitchen door. Inside, they stripped off their outerwear. Cassie ran to them and threw her arms around Dan’s waist. “You came! Dr. Dan, my sister needs you.”
Cassie dragged Jake’s dad by the hand into the living room. Jake followed them. Amy sat with her arm around Rachel, who reclined against her mom.
“Dr. Dan,” Rachel whispered. Amy didn’t say a word aloud, but her eyes implored Dan for help.
Jake moved to stand behind Amy to support her. Adrenaline had his heart on high idle.
His father knelt by the sofa. He pressed his palm to Rachel’s forehead. “I’m going to give you some medicine that should make you feel better. First, though, we need to get some moisture in this air.”
He looked up. “Jake, go out and get a heavy pan full of snow and put it on the wood stove. We’ll let it warm and put some moisture in the air. That will make it easier for this girl to breathe.”
Dan rose. “Cassie, please stay with your sister. I have to break up this pill. It’s too big, too strong for a little girl.”
Jake squeezed Amy’s shoulder and started for the kitchen to snag a bucket from the pantry.
“Will the medicine taste bad?” Cassie asked, taking her sister’s hand. The kittens hovered close by.
“I’ll mix it with a little jelly and then it shouldn’t be too bad,” Dan said, heading toward the kitchen. “Amy, I need a set of measuring spoons and Rachel’s favorite jelly.”
Jake walked outside and returned with a bucket of fresh snow. Amy was handing his dad a jar of grape jelly.
“Amy, do you have any acetaminophen in the house?” Dan asked.
“Yes. I didn’t give it to her because I didn’t know if it would help her or make her condition worse.”
“As a general rule, acetaminophen is safe for children as long as you follow the dosage. It’ll help lower her fever. Aspirin is what you want to avoid because of the possibility of Reye’s syndrome. So let’s give her the antibiotic and the fever reducer. She should be feeling a bit better soon.”
He looked at Jake. “Get that pail on the wood stove. Moist air will help her breathing.”
The three of them joined the twins in the living room. Amy coaxed Rachel to sit up straighter. She sat down beside her daughter again, letting the child lean against her. Too sick to object, Rachel took her two doses of medicine. Then Jake and his dad sat down across from Amy. Cassie climbed onto Jake’s lap and lay against him.
Jake studied his father. He appeared spent, and Jake knew he’d crash soon from his own adrenaline high. Dan laid his head back and closed his eyes. Cassie closed hers, too, so Jake rose and carried her to bed and laid her down and covered her. The wood stove was sending warmth throughout the small house. “Will Rachel be all right?” Cassie asked in a scared little voice.
“Yes, you can rest now. My dad won’t let anything bad happen to her.” Jake leaned over and kissed her forehead.
Then he went to Dan. “Dad.” He shook his shoulder gently. “Come and lie down on Amy’s bed. You’ll be more comfortable.”
Dan didn’t argue. He rose, and with a hand on Jake’s shoulder to steady himself, he followed his son into the bedroom. Jake pulled the covers up over the unmade bed and Dan lay down on Amy’s quilt. Jake found an afghan on the chair and spread it over his dad.
“Jake, I’ve been carrying nitro tablets for a while. I’m going to finally take one.” His dad slipped a tablet from a small bottle and placed the pill under his tongue.
Jake nodded his approval, relief nearly weakening his knees. “Get some rest, Dad. I’m going to stoke the fire.”
Dan nodded and closed his eyes.
Back in the small living room, Jake opened the wood stove door and set several new logs in and then shut the door. When he stood, he heard his father’s quiet whiffling snore.
Jake staggered to the sofa, drowning in a sudden backwash of emotional exhaustion. “Amy, let me carry Rachel to bed.”
She looked up. “I’m afraid to let go of her.”
Her plaintive tone brought him to his knees. He knelt by her. “You don’t have to be afraid. My dad’s here. He’s given her medicine and he’s sleeping on your bed. If he thought she was in critical condition, he would never have left her side.”
She nodded and stroked his cheek once. Then she moved Rachel toward him.
Jake lifted Rachel and carried her to her bed and laid her down. Cassie was already napping. Maybe the constant sound of the wind and lashing snow had lulled her to sleep, too. Amy covered Rachel with a light blanket and knelt beside the bed, obviously praying.
Jake gazed at Amy. With her hair mussed and her clothing rumpled, she had never looked more beautiful to him. Her true beauty lay in the way she bent to kiss Rachel’s forehead and the gentle way she patted the very sick child.
“Amy, I’m in love with you.” Hearing his own words out loud shook him. But he’d only spoken the truth.
She looked at him, her expression full of worry, and he took her hand and helped her up. Her face drawn, she led him from the room. She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. “Something bad has happened.” Her voice sounded oddly disconnected.
His mind took him back to her preoccupation last night. Brooke’s dinner party seemed ages ago. He sank down beside her and lifted her hand to his lap where he cradled it between his. “Tell me.”
“Yesterday, no…” She fell silent, her face twisted as if in pain. “What day is it?”
“Sunday.”
“That’s right.” She rubbed her forehead. “I probably sound nuts. But if this is Sunday, then that means it happened just before we went to Brooke’s. I remember being at Brooke’s, but it was like a dream or something, like I wasn’t really there.”
“You didn’t act like yourself. You were—” He struggled for the right word. “You were on autopilot.”
“That’s troubling.”
“You said something bad happened?” Almost afraid to ask, he kissed her hand and held it close to him. He had to know the truth.
&nb
sp; “Carrie called me. I think it sent me into some kind of shock.”
He moved closer. “Your sister called?”
She nodded. “Ever since your dad gave Rachel the medicine, it started coming back to me, the reality of what she told me.” She pressed her lips together.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m here.”
She glanced up. “I know. You are very much here.” She took a deep breath. “Carrie said she’d been in prison.”
“In prison? But why wouldn’t the police have told you that?”
“She said she used an assumed name, the one she’d been using in Detroit.” Amy’s voice trembled.
He pulled her even closer, longing to comfort her. “Amy, I’m so sorry. That must have been a real shock.”
“She…she said she was going to get a job so she could take back the girls. I hung up on her.”
“What? Doesn’t she realize that she’s a stranger to the twins?” Agitation stirred him—charging him up. Jake worked to keep his voice down. “You’re the only mom they’ve ever known.”
Amy rested her head on his chest. “I don’t want to fight my sister for her children, but—”
“You won’t fight her unless she won’t see reason. She has yet to prove she can be a mom.” Outrage, heat, flooded Jake’s face and neck. “You’ve proven you’re a great mom.” He kissed her hair. “And nobody better say different.”
“I want to be happy that Carrie has finally contacted me. But you’re right. I can’t let her do anything that will harm the girls. If that means fighting her, I’ll fight.” Amy’s voice hardened.
Jake turned this over in his mind, sorting it out. His tension eased. He took a breath. “I don’t think you’ll have to fight her. You just said she went to prison under an assumed name. She won’t want a court case where that can be brought to light. A recently released felon, trying to convince a judge to give her custody of children she’s had no contact with since they were babies—I don’t think so.”