by Tessa Gray
Racing outside with a stretcher, she waited for the ambulance to roll to a complete stop.
When it did, several EMS techs unloaded the injured man. The patient lay motionless, his face turned away from her. She listened as one of the EMS techs spoke with the patient, getting no response.
The sliding glass doors of the ER hummed as they wheeled the man inside, and Sarah knew they were racing against time.
She motioned the techs to the cubicle when her brother, Nathan, raced into the hospital corridor.
“Nathan—what in the world are you doing?“
“Jake’s been in an accident. It’s bad, Sarah—really bad.”
She rushed over to her brother as the EMS team began filling Doctor Kendall Jennings in about Jake’s injuries. Shock waves pulsed through her, and she felt as though someone had slugged her in the gut.
Hurrying over to offer assistance, she stared at the man who’d been like a brother to her. Jake lay lifeless on the stretcher, his color ashen and his breathing shallow.
While dealing with life and death situations wasn’t uncommon in the ER, seeing someone you cared for in such terrible shape sent chills through her.
The doctor’s deep baritone voice rumbled as he barked out orders. “Get him in Cubicle Two. We need all hands on deck. Let’s go, people.” His steely blue eyes blazed as he continued ordering everyone around.
She felt frozen in place, sick to her stomach and terrified this wouldn’t end well. “I-I know this man, Dr. Jennings. I-I . . .”
“Pull yourself together, Sarah. You’re of no use to me if you’re going to fall apart here. If you’re not up to this, get someone else to cover for you.”
Her years of training had prepared her for something like this. She’d need to suck it up and be here for Jake. If she couldn’t, she didn’t deserve to be a nurse.
“No, I’m all right.” Taking a deep breath, she flew into action.
There was a flurry of activity as the staff cut off Jake’s clothing and tried to stop the bleeding. She checked his vitals and grimaced. This was bad. Really bad.
“The minute we get this man stabilized, he’s going to OR. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s bleeding internally.” Kendall continued examining the patient, a worried expression on his face.
Sarah’s heart raced. Bleeding internally could kill Jake. Time was of the essence. They’d probably do an ultrasound to determine where the bleeding was originating from. With a motorcycle accident this severe, no telling which organs were being affected.
The staff finally got him stabilized. The ultrasound revealed that Jake was bleeding from the lungs—something terribly serious that could have grave consequences. She wouldn’t share the news with Nathan or Rachel. For the time being, she’d keep this to herself. But if they didn’t operate soon, Jake could die. Sometimes internal bleeding stopped on its own, but often, it did not.
She glanced at Jake’s x-ray and realized that in addition to the excessive bleeding, he had a crushed ankle. Studying the chart in detail, she groaned, aware the ankle injury was massive.
As they wheeled him up to the operating room, Kendall Jennings leaned over, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Jake, you’re at Alpine General Hospital. You’ve had an accident, but we’re going to take care of you. Dr. Hancock will be doing surgery on you, and I’ll be assisting her. She’s an amazing surgeon, Jake. You’re in good hands. Hang in there.”
Jake lay perfectly still, his eyes closed. He probably hadn’t even heard what the doctor had said. Sarah reached for his hand, choking back tears.
The doctor spoke, his voice soft. “I know this is hard for you, Sarah. I’m sorry for your friend. I know it’s cliché, but we’re going to do all we can to get Jake back on his feet. Hang in there, Sarah. He’ll need you to be strong.”
Unable to speak, she nodded.
When the doctor headed into the OR, she breathed a sigh of relief. Kendall might not have the best bedside manner, but Jake was in very capable hands.
~ ~ ~
Nathan Wainwright sat in the waiting room with Sarah as they waited for Jake’s surgery to be over. He glanced across the room at Rachel as she stared outside into the darkness. She hadn’t spoken a word since she’d arrived—not even to Sarah.
The rain had started up again, and as the drops pelted against the window, Rachel leaned her face against it, as though trying to draw strength from the storm. Although she looked scared to death, Nathan decided not to try and provide any type of comfort to her. He’d never much cared for Rachel, so it seemed hypocritical to try and console her.
Fighting back emotions, he thought of all the times Jake had been there for him when he lost his first wife, Michele. Had it not been for his best friend, he’d never have survived. When the cancer had finally taken her, Jake had stayed at the house with him for days, helping him muddle through his grief.
And, of course, it had been Jake who encouraged him to pursue a relationship with Kelsey. He smiled, recalling how insistent Jake had been that Kelsey was “the one.” And as things had turned out, he’d been spot on about that.
He’d give anything for a chance to tell Jake how grateful he was for decades of friendship.
Sadness consumed him as he considered all Jake had to deal with growing up—being shuttled between foster homes and having a deadbeat dad that didn’t care about him—being saddled with a mother who’d been in and out of his life like a revolving door. A man with a childhood this catastrophic didn’t deserve this.
Rachel made her way over to where they were sitting, her eyes glazed over, as though she still couldn’t believe this was happening.
She plopped down on the couch where they sat, and Sarah patted her hand. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”
Burying her head in her hands, Rachel broke down. “Jake and I had an argument earlier this evening. When he left, he was upset. I tried to stop him. If I had, none of this would have happened.”
While Nathan wanted nothing more than to light into Rachel and give her a piece of his mind, he took the high road—something his wife, Kelsey, would have insisted he do.
Sarah reached out to Rachel, giving her a hug. “Sweetie, don’t blame—”
But Rachel splayed her hands across her face. “Jake doesn’t deserve this, any of this.”
There was a part of Rachel that Nathan wanted to hate, but it was obvious she was deeply upset. But sitting around here, rehashing things wasn’t going to solve anything.
Stumbling to his feet, he pulled out his phone and began leaving.
Turning back around, he watched his sister console Rachel. While the Christian thing to do would have been to stick around and try to comfort Rachel, he didn’t have it in him to do that.
~ ~ ~
Rachel felt as though weights were attached to her legs as she made her way down the hall leading to Jake’s room, Sarah at her side. Sarah had filled her in about the internal bleeding. Thankfully, the surgeons had located the source of the bleeding—Jake’s right lung. They’d conducted a thoracotomy on him, which meant that they cut into his rib cage. He’d have a noticeable scar. Although they also ascertained that Jake’s left ankle had been crushed, the swelling had to go down considerably before performing surgery on that. That would be another hurdle to cross.
They entered Jake’s room, and even though Sarah had prepared her, Rachel balked when she stared at all the machinery. He lay on the hospital bed, white sheets draped about him as several machines hummed and clicked. He was being given fluids intravenously and had received several blood transfusions. They were gravely concerned about his blood pressure. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.
The strapping cowboy who was the epitome of strength looked pale and incredibly weak. Between the accident and emergency surgery, Jake
had not only suffered immensely, but his road to recovery would prove long.
As his chest heaved up and down, his breathing ragged, she suspected the shock his body had gone through was taking a toll. When the machines he was hooked up to whined and hissed, she nearly lost it.
Leaning over, she kissed him on the forehead, and then looked up at her friend. “He’s been through so much, hasn’t he, Sarah?”
Sarah touched Jake’s shoulder. “He’s a fighter, Rachel. He’s been that way since we were kids.”
“Yes, Sarah, he is. Of course, he has an entire village of people praying for him, doesn’t he?” As an afterthought, she added, “Has anyone told your mother about the accident?”
“Yes, I just spoke with Mama. She’ll stop by in a day or two to see him. You know Mama. She put him on a prayer chain. I think everyone in Texas has been praying for him.”
Sarah’s comment made her laugh. Smiling, she thought about how much Elizabeth Wainwright doted on Jake, much like a mother would.
She considered all the people in Jake’s orbit—how much they loved him, how devoted they were to him, how much they were probably wishing him the very best. It amazed her that Jake’s hometown was filled with so many people who reached to those in need—surrounding them with love. For a brief second, she wondered why she was so intent on leaving.
She covered him with the quilt Elizabeth had made, patting down the sides to keep him warm. “Jake always loved this quilt your mother made for him.”
“Yup. He tells Mama that all the time. That’s why I insisted Nathan stop by to pick it up.”
Touching an edge of the quilt, Rachel continued talking. “Jake’s just crazy about this quilt. It looks utterly ridiculous hanging across the back of our blue sofa since it doesn’t have a lick of blue in it. I told him that—told him that it looks silly, but you know Jake. Elizabeth made it for him, so in his eyes, it will always have a special place on the couch.”
Sarah smiled and handed her a tissue. “Rach—”
“I’ve washed that darn thing more times than I can count.” Dabbing at her eyes, she regretted being so critical of Jake’s taste.
When Sarah motioned her to sit down, she obliged.
Guilt consumed her once again as she lamented about all that had happened. “I should have forced him to stay home so we could talk things out.”
Sarah shook her head. “He outweighs you by at least fifty pounds. I doubt you could have forced him to stay. This isn’t going to do any of us any good, agonizing over what might have been, Rach. Let’s just focus on getting Jake well.”
Climbing to her feet, she continued. “I’m going to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Okay then. See you in a bit.”
After Sarah left, Rachel linked her fingers through Jake’s. He lay quietly, his breathing steady now.
And that’s when she made her decision; a decision that she knew was the right one.
There would be no move back to Dallas. She’d stay here and help Jake get back on his feet. It was probably too late to tell the principal she wanted her teaching job back. Most of the hiring for fall was already done. But maybe she could get a job waitressing. And she did have some money in savings. Yes, she’d made up her mind. She’d stay here and take care of Jake. He’d do the same for her.
~ ~ ~
Jake lay motionless, feeling as though he had a thousand pounds of metal weighing him down. Blinking several times, he struggled to bring everything into focus. A blurry figure hovered over him, but he couldn’t make out who it was.
A soft voice broke the silence—a voice that sounded familiar. “Jake. Jake. It’s Rachel.”
He inhaled a familiar scent and tried to piece things together. Everything around the room looked white—white and sterile. He remembered someone telling him they would be doing surgery on him. He must be in a hospital.
“What . . . happened?” He winced as his ankle throbbed. His left side ached, and he placed his hand on the hospital gown. “Everything hurts. What’s . . .?”
“You’ve been in an accident, Jake, but you’re going to be all right.” The tone of the voice was familiar, but he struggled to figure out who was talking.
Slowly, she came into focus now—her dark hair and porcelain complexion looked familiar; that, plus the perfume. Rachel. Rachel who?
His vision grew stronger and he was now deciphering figures with more accuracy. The hospital machinery was no longer blurry but in sharp focus.
He glanced down at a quilt that he recognized. “The quilt . . . it’s . . . I’ve seen it before.”
“Elizabeth Wainwright made it for you. Do you remember her, Jake?”
Suddenly things began coming into focus. Closing his eyes, he grimaced as the pain in his ankle moved up his leg. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep for a bit. Your body’s been through a shock, Jake. You need your rest. Doctor Jennings was here a few minutes ago. He says you’re doing fine.”
As the pain in his ankle continued, he reached down to touch his leg, but the woman who called herself Rachel pushed his hand away.
“Don’t, Jake. Don’t stretch like that. You’ve got stitches along your rib cage. You need to stay still. Please.” As he thrashed about the bed, she tried to hold him down. “Please, Jake. Don’t move.”
His heart raced and when he looked over at her, she was staring at one of the monitors.
“Let me up.”
Ignoring him, she ran her fingers along the railing of his bed. When she pressed a button, several orderlies flew into the room and he realized she’d pushed the call button.
A gentleman with dark hair spoke. “This is terribly unusual that he’s awakened so quickly from the meds. I’ll be right back with the doctor.”
Jake turned to face the woman again, and then he remembered. Tears streamed down her face, and bit by bit, it was all coming back. The accident. The truck. The train.
Closing his eyes, he held his hands up to his ears to stop the constant ringing. They needed to give him something for this pain.
“The doctor will be right here, Jake. Hang in there. I know it’s difficult but . . .”
As the ringing in his ears continued, he inhaled the scent of lavender one more time. And then he remembered.
Chapter 5
Early the next morning, Rachel sat at Jake’s bedside, holding his hand. The nurse had given him pain medication, but it wore off quickly, given how he tossed and turned in his sleep. She wished there was more she could do.
He attempted to sit up in bed and quickly placed his hand where the incision to his rib cage was.
“Ouch! Damn. I need to go to the bathroom.”
The nurse had told him several times that he had a catheter. He must have forgotten. Or maybe the pain medication was making him drowsy.
“You’ve got a catheter. Don’t you remember?” After she reminded him, he dipped his head momentarily, as though trying to recall the conversation.
The light in his eyes faded. Between the excessive amount of blood he’d lost and how much pain the ankle appeared to be causing him, the suffering must be unbearable.
Leaning back in his hospital bed, he gazed out the window.
Touching his shoulder, she attempted to cheer him up. “I brought your laptop, Jake. Maybe when you feel better, you’d like to play some music or something.” When he sat stone-faced, as though he hadn’t heard her, she added, “I could turn on the television. Is there something you’d like to watch? Surely there’s something I can do for you. Just tell me what it is.”
He suddenly came to life, his dark eyes blazing.
Flinging back an arm, he slammed it against the water pitcher, knocking it to the flo
or-water and ice chips flying everywhere. His face was beet red and as he spoke, his voice, albeit weak had an intensity to it. “Get the hell out of here. I can’t breathe with you hovering over me like this.”
“Jake, please . . .” She nearly lost her footing as she navigated her way over to where the towels were. “I-I’ll just clean this—”
“I don’t want you here. Now, leave!” He looked like a madman as he banged a fist against the bed railing.
She blinked back tears, shocked by what he’d said. This behavior was so unlike him. Even with his business floundering, Jake had always taken things in stride, compartmentalizing his frustration. But this was different—very, very different.
Had the accident changed him forever? She’d heard of people who allowed tragedy to destroy their lives. While she’d never imagined Jake would be the type to let anger consume him, she feared this was life altering, and that the old Jake would never return. Given the fact that even after a great deal of physical therapy, it was likely he’d have a slight limp for the rest of his life. Was a man like Jake—a man who relied on his physical prowess to feel good about himself—going to survive this?
Neither spoke for nearly a minute. It appeared they were at an impasse.
Taking a deep breath, she fought to regain her composure.
After nearly a minute had passed, she spoke. “I’ll be leaving now, Jake. But to be clear, I’m not cleaning up your mess. I’ll ask someone from the staff to mop down the floor. But if I were you, I’d try not to piss off the people taking care of me. I’ll be back to check on you at some point—after you apologize. Just because we aren’t together any more doesn’t give me license to abandon you. I’m loyal to people who’ve been good to me. So, if you’re thinking you can get rid of me by throwing a temper tantrum, you’d be dead wrong.”