NECESSARY MEASURES

by Alexander, Hannah

  Lauren winced. Of course. The Wreck was the defining chapter in the lives of the Sheldons in which Annette, wife and mother, was taken from them, shattering their family unit forever.

  “That would be horrible for him,” Lauren said quietly. For a strong masculine young man who looked and behaved like a mature adult, Beau Sheldon had the soulful sensitivity of a poet. “Then we’ll have to be there for him.”

  “Before the ambulance got there he was just staring at the punched-in fender. He kept apologizing.” Brooke’s words were soft and low.

  Lauren studied the beautiful sixteen-year-old. “I think there’s something else bothering you as well.”

  Brooke reapplied her steady stare. “I’m fine.”

  ***

  Years ago, Beau had quietly taken on the responsibility of keeping Brooke out of trouble. This time he’d driven her straight into it. Not just her but Evan too.

  Dad squeezed his arm and something told Beau he would have gotten a big bear hug if not for the backboard restraints. “You didn’t cause the collision. It’s impossible to predict someone else’s actions.”

  Beau felt like such a weakling. Grant Sheldon was a strong man with broad shoulders that his family had always trusted to carry the load of life, especially since Mom’s death. Dad shouldn’t be expected to carry the full responsibility all the time.

  Beau almost spoke up when his father released his arm and stood back. Tell him. That guy probably followed them all the way from the high school. He stalked them. Someone needed to know about it. The police needed to know.

  “If you hadn’t been at the wheel things could have been a lot worse,” Dad said.

  “I almost hit a car when I ran a stop sign.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed. “What caused you to run a stop sign?”

  Beau hesitated. “I was trying to show Brooke the right way to hold pressure on Evan’s head.” Tell Dad about the guy.

  But did he really need to know? Didn’t he already have enough to worry about? Wouldn’t it be enough to tell Sergeant Dalton?

  That stalker had probably followed them from the school because of Evan’s snooping. Kent Eckard had to have something to do with it.

  “Where are your glasses?” Dad asked.

  “I think Bill has them.”

  Dad touched the bridge of Beau’s nose. “They must have flown off before the airbag deployed.”

  “I can’t remember. I’ll be fine. I hope they can repair the car.”

  “That thing’s a tank. I’d be surprised if they couldn’t fix it up as good as new. It probably made quite a dent in the other vehicle. You say it was a truck?”

  “A big tannish one with rusty fenders.”

  “You could see that much without your glasses while he was getting away?”

  No, he had noticed that much in the rearview mirror while the stalker followed them. “How’s Evan doing?”

  “I think he’s a little more traumatized than he wants anybody to believe,” Dad said.

  “I don’t know why people pick on him so much.”

  “Of course you don’t.” A film of sudden moisture deepened the glow in Dad’s eyes. He blinked it away. “It isn’t something that would ever occur to you.” He gently touched one of the places on Beau’s face where the cosmetic surgeons had made—and ultimately failed at—highly skilled attempts to restore the broad Sheldon smile after the accident that killed Mom.

  “I just got off the phone with Miss Bolton,” Dad said. “She spoke with the principal and superintendent. If everything checks out with your story, which it will, Kent will be suspended from school for the remainder of the semester for attacking Evan in the hallway.”

  Beau stared at the ceiling as a chill hit him.

  “I thought you’d be relieved,” Dad said.

  “I guess I should be.”

  “Well?”

  Beau risked a glance into his father’s eyes. “It’s like poking a bear. It’ll just make Kent mad.” Beau made the decision then. He would tell the police about the stalker but Dad already had enough to worry about. Today’s wreck would only make things worse.

  Maybe he could talk to Archer. No, he was too close to Dad. So was Lauren. Sergeant Dalton might keep his mouth shut. Beau would talk to him and no one else.

  “Are you feeling okay son?”

  “I’m fine. Evan’s probably still shook up though. You know how his parents get when they’re around each other. It would be worse if they didn’t call his mom but he doesn’t want to face her right now.”

  Todd knocked at the threshold then stepped inside. “Dr. Sheldon, just wanted to give you the heads-up. There’s a threat of an uprising in three. The people can’t figure out why their baby’s broken tooth doesn’t take priority over a teenager’s broken head. I wanted to ask them why their child’s life didn’t take priority with them in the first place but I didn’t want to get us sued.”

  Beau saw the infinitesimal movement of Dad’s jaw—a sign of controlled frustration.

  “Take care of them, Dad,” Beau said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Dad nodded and caught Beau’s arm with another squeeze then leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, son. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  He turned and followed Todd out of the room.

  Chapter 6

  Archer led Jessica through the staff entrance to the emergency department and directly into the organized chaos that had become increasingly familiar to him these past six months. He was never totally at ease here because he couldn’t predict what situations he would witness. Still, he had come to realize that more people acknowledged eternity in this place of physical trauma than behind doors of stained glass. He went where he was needed.

  He prayed that Jessica would realize that the volunteer position he held as a part-time chaplain for this department was as important as his service to the church.

  As he led her along the bustling hallway he saw Grant in the laceration room with Evan Webster. Evan’s face was the color of pre-baked sugar cookies, complete with red sprinkles. His acne-scarred cheeks seemed to shrink away from his prominent nose and cheekbones.

  Evan Webster was not one of the physically beautiful people. He was, however, one of those people with promise, who might be very charismatic when he matured and filled out in all the right places and learned to control his tongue with a little more decorum. Now he was just an awkward teenager who had a way with written words and a true-blue heart. And there was something about those puppy-soft eyes...squinting eyes. He must have lost a contact lens again.

  “So the rumor was true.” Archer strolled into the exam room ahead of Jessica. “Evan, I heard you and the Sheldon twins played bumper cars with the wrong person this afternoon.”

  Some of the tension relaxed from the teenager’s face. “Hi, Preacher.”

  “Archer?” Grant didn’t look up and he obviously couldn’t take his hands from the medical staple gun he wielded on his patient. His voice engulfed Archer with welcome. “I didn’t think you were on call until tonight.”

  “I’m always on duty for my own.” Archer didn’t react to the sound of the staple being shot into position in Evan’s scalp but he reached down and took Evan’s hand with a firm grip.

  Evan squeezed back...and squeezed.

  Archer endured the pain without expression. It was an occasional hazard of this ministry. “Evan, your dad called us at the church while we were planning the wedding service. I thought I’d bring Jessica along.”

  The pressure on his hand eased a little and Evan smiled. “He told me he’d called. Dr. Sheldon sent him to the waiting room for a few minutes. Dad thinks staples belong in paper, not scalps, and he started getting dizzy. Todd told him he couldn’t watch.” Evan grunted as the final staple struck its mark. “Mom’s on her way here with Ug.”

  “Should I have brought my flak jacket?”

  “Maybe you should just hide.”

  “Nope, I’ll face her like a man.”
/>
  Jessica cleared her throat softly and Archer could feel the questions in her eyes without looking at her.

  As Grant put the finishing touches on his handiwork, Evan’s tension eased and color returned to his face. Archer gave the teenager another pat on the back and led a most curious fiancée from the exam room.

  “I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.” Jessica stepped around a gurney in the corridor.

  Archer put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s nothing new. Remember the article he wrote about the speed he was tricked into taking? I met him the night he did it.”

  “He didn’t mention in the article who tricked him.”

  “A so-called friend, Kent Eckard. Evan’s parents were as bitterly divorced then as they are now. For some reason, his mother does not like preachers. The introduction went downhill from there.”

  “Why doesn’t she like preachers?”

  “Evan doesn’t know and I never got a chance to ask her. It was my first experience as a volunteer chaplain. It seemed as if I could say nothing right to Lucy.”

  “That’s Evan’s mother’s name?”

  He nodded. “My presence only made things worse for Evan. Let’s go out to the waiting room so we can reassure Norville about Evan’s condition. We might have to blend into the furniture when Lucy arrives.”

  Jessica preceded him through the entry door. “You might have to lie low, Pastor Pierce, but remember I’m not a pastor. And I’m not even a pastor’s wife. Yet.” She smiled up at him. “Maybe I can intercede for you. Don’t forget I know how to deal with feuding parents. I navigated that minefield for the first eighteen years of my life.”

  “Yes but—”

  She raised a hand and smiled lovingly into his eyes. “Archer, you’re a fantastic counselor, you’re a wonderful preacher, and I admire the way you stay on your toes with those kids in church, but you have been woefully deprived of something I’ve had in abundance.”

  “You don’t think I have musical talent?”

  She pressed a finger against his lips and chuckled. “You’ve been forced to witness a loving family and parents who were still madly in love with each another after thirty-five years of marriage. That means you’ve been deprived of the necessary firsthand knowledge of a dysfunctional childhood as well as the death of a mom.”

  Archer sobered. “You endured too much too young.”

  “But I endured.” She turned as Norville Webster came toward them from the far corner of the waiting room. “Hi, Norville. Evan’s doing fine and the doctor has him all fixed up.” She took his hand. “You’ve got a talented young man there. I’ve been reading his articles and editorials in the school paper.”

  As she continued to charm the look of sick helplessness from Norville’s white face and perspiring high forehead, Archer could only watch her with growing trepidation. She didn’t know what she was getting into. Norville was a gentleman. His ex wife was not gentle in any way.

  Archer braced himself for the coming storm. Norville and Lucy were about to tangle again. Lord, protect us all.

  ***

  Lauren spread antibiotic cream on Brooke’s arm, taking care to be as gentle as possible. “You’ve had a rough day. You want to tell me about the attack on Evan?”

  Brooke sucked in air.

  “Sorry, does that sting?”

  “Nope. Kent has hated Evan since he gave Evan that speed. I mean, hello? What did he expect? That Evan wouldn’t tell the police about it when he almost died? It isn’t fair! School isn’t safe.” She blinked hard and ducked her head. “Dad thought it would be different here but it isn’t. At least in St. Louis security’s tighter. This stuff shouldn’t be happening here.”

  “There are bullies everywhere.” Lauren bandaged the wound and gave Brooke’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I understand how you feel. I had two little brothers I had to fend for when we were growing up. The other kids finally learned that when they messed with the McCaffrey boys they also messed with me.”

  “You’d never hurt anybody.”

  Lauren flexed her right biceps muscle. “See that? I’m a farm girl born and raised. I could bottle-feed a family of orphaned piglets and milk the cows and haul hay out of the barn and I could swing a mean fist, all between the time school let out and the sun went down.”

  The first inkling of humor spilled from Brooke’s deep gray eyes. “Ever hit a guy?”

  “Sure did, when he tried to bully Hardy, my brother.”

  “Did the guy hit you back?”

  “He didn’t dare.”

  Brooke glanced toward the door and beckoned Lauren to lean closer. “I put a couple of moves on Kent he’s not going to forget.” She pointed to her knee and elbow. “Didn’t even get a bruise from it. He didn’t expect me to know how to handle a bully. Evan helped by slamming his laptop into the jerk’s head when he came after me.”

  Lauren giggled and reached for Brooke in an impulsive hug. “I’m proud of you.”

  Brooke’s feminine yet muscular arms returned the hug with some force and she laid her head on Lauren’s shoulder. Lauren relished the bond that had grown between them these last few months. Upon their initial meeting, Brooke had made her feelings clear about her widowed father’s interest in dating again. Now a week seldom went by when Brooke didn’t hint that Grant and Lauren could use some time alone so they could get to know each other better. She was never shy about speaking her mind or venting her frustration when the camaraderie between Lauren and her father remained unchanged over the months.

  Lauren found it easy to relate to Brooke as a friend—perhaps easier than it might have been if she’d had a mother’s instinct to guide and discipline. She worked with the church youth because she enjoyed teenagers and in some ways had a lot in common with them despite the age difference.

  “Lauren?” Brooke pulled away and looked up at her. “Do you think Mom would be upset with me if she were alive?”

  “For what? Your courage? Or maybe your loyalty to a friend?”

  “Dad doesn’t even know I attacked Kent and he’s all freaked.”

  “So am I,” Lauren said. “But not because you did anything wrong. I’m proud of you and I know your parents would be too.”

  Brooke closed her eyes. “I hope so.” She slumped back down. “This whole day stunk.”

  Lauren frowned, acquainted enough with all of Brooke’s moods by now to know this was not her normal reaction to stress. Usually she talked, sometimes she shouted, and once in a while she got hyper and giggled uncontrollably. Then before anyone realized what was happening the stress was gone and Brooke was happy again. Lauren had become too close to this particular teenager not to be able to read the signs of something deeper than stress.

  “Kent must have upset you a lot.” Lauren leaned against the frame of Brooke’s exam bed.

  For a moment Brooke wouldn’t open her eyes. When she did the expression in her face had that distant look that Lauren hadn’t seen since the first few weeks after the Sheldons moved to Dogwood Springs from St. Louis—it was the look of someone on alert, closed in on herself because she had lost the ability to trust.

  “If it’s that bad we need to talk about it.”

  “I can’t explain why I feel so weird about all this. Something just struck me wrong.”

  “You mean something besides the truck, right?”

  Brooke scowled at Lauren’s lame attempt at humor. “I feel responsible.”

  “For the accident?”

  “For Evan getting beat up. You know how sometimes you feel you could have prevented something from happening?”

  “I’m pretty sure Evan wouldn’t agree with you, especially after you dealt Kent such a powerful blow to his ego.”

  Brooke shrugged the comment away. “It didn’t help Evan’s ego, either, you know.” She leaned toward Lauren and lowered her voice. “Evan has this bad habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. But deep down he’s a sweet guy and I don’t want him to get hurt so I kind
of tag along after him.”

  “You mean like a bodyguard?” Lauren guessed Evan was one of those kids who would have a growth spurt later in his teens.

  “Did Dad tell you I took some self-defense classes in St. Louis?”

  “Yes.” Lauren reached up and wiped a smear of mascara from Brooke’s cheek.

  Someone knocked at the entrance to the exam room and the door slid open. Grant stepped in, drying his hands on a paper towel. He reached for the stethoscope around his neck.

  “Doing okay?” He pressed the bell against his daughter’s back. “Breathing’s a little fast, heart rate’s the same.”

  Brooke grimaced. “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Just mad.”

  He nodded and a grim smile passed over his face. It didn’t settle in his eyes but drifted away. “No change there.”

  She curled her lip at him then gave him a reluctant smile.

  “Brace yourself,” he said. “Evan’s father is here and his mother and stepfather will be here soon.”

  Brooke put a hand on her father’s arm and leaned toward him. “You can stop them,” she said in a stage whisper.

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Call the police to set a speed trap on Highway 65. Evan said she drives at least eighty on that stretch. As if it isn’t bad enough that he gets attacked by the school bully and in a wreck within a few minutes, now he has to deal with abuse from his mother.”

  “I think she’ll feel better when she sees Evan. His head wound’s already stapled.” Grant watched his daughter for a moment then tossed his paper towel in the wastebasket and pulled her against him in a fierce hug. “Don’t worry so much. The car can be repaired.”

  Brooke hugged him back and patted him on the shoulder but her eyes remained open and her gaze bonded with Lauren’s. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.” Her brooding eyes contradicted her words.

  ***

  Evan’s mother, Lucy Tygart, made a full-blast entrance through the emergency department’s front doors forty-five minutes from the time the kids were brought in by ambulance. Her lanky somber husband trailed a respectful three feet behind her.

  Archer saw her through the reception window from the doorway of Beau’s exam room. “She’s here.”