Healing the Lawman's Heart

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Is she here?” Gracie Jayne’s tired gaze flicked to the worn building and the boarded-up window. “Miss Julia. Is she here?”

  “I’ll call her.” He hit Julia’s number, and prayed for the second time in three minutes, and when Julia answered on the third ring he thanked God again. “Julia, I’m in the parking lot of the clinic with Gracie Jayne. I’ve called an ambulance to transport her and she’s asking for you.”

  Julia’s calm reply proved she was no stranger to phone calls interrupting her life. “Tell her I’ll meet her at Clearwater General. I’ll be waiting when they pull in.”

  “I’ll tell her.” As the sound of the ambulance and a sheriff’s cruiser drew closer, he leaned close, wanting the struggling woman to hear him. “She’ll be at the hospital waiting for you. Hang on, okay?”

  Tired green eyes stared up at him. “Do you think Miss Julia will take my baby?”

  Tanner hesitated, confused. “You mean deliver the baby?”

  Her bone-tired gaze said talking drained the last bit of energy she could muster. “I mean raise this baby. Care for her. Miss Julia’s smart, and she’d be a good mother to this little girl. Before I go, I want to know my baby is taken care of. Loved. Miss Julia is the first person to treat me nice in a long time. I want her to have my baby.”

  Tanner kept a gentle grip on her hands and bent low. “I think you’d be a good mother to this little girl, too.” He kept his voice soft and brushed back a lock of hair from her face. “She could be the best reason to change things up, Gracie.”

  “Gracie Jayne,” she whispered, reminding him. “I won’t be here to raise her, I know that. Miss Julia knows that. And I promised this baby I’d carry her as best I could, but I don’t think we can go much farther.”

  Dire fear put a vise on Tanner’s heart as the ambulance pulled into the lot behind him. “You hang on, let us get you to the hospital, and we’ll see what’s going on, okay? We’ll let the doctors and Julia do their work. And no more talk of letting go, all right?”

  The EMTs moved in, and her soft reply was whisked away by the sound of the gurney locks engaging and the gusting northwest wind.

  And regardless of what he said, Tanner understood what he saw in Gracie Jayne’s face. The pallor, the labored breathing, the struggle to speak a coherent thought. Had she walked from the bus stop three-quarters of a mile south of them again? In this wretched weather, in her condition?

  First thing in the morning he was going to petition the City Transit Authority to reinstate the bus stop that used to be in the front loop of this broken-down parking lot. The stop had been discontinued a long time ago, but women using Julia’s clinic shouldn’t have to walk long blocks for help.

  He waited while they secured Gracie Jayne in the ambulance, then followed them to the hospital. It seemed like hours away, although he knew better.

  Would Julia be able to save Gracie Jayne? Would they be able to save the baby? And was Gracie Jayne serious about wanting Julia to take her child?

  He pulled into the emergency room lot, parked and raced into the ER. Julia spotted him as he came through the door. She pointed up, which meant she wanted him to wait upstairs, in the OB unit, where expectant fathers and families shared joy and concern while babies made their final trek into the world.

  Don’t think about it. Just do it.

  His conscience was right. This wasn’t about him, it was about a woman’s quest to bring her only child safely into the world, maybe before she left that same world.

  Was God that harsh? Was he that cruel, that he’d separate mother and child at the juncture of birth and death?

  You’re blaming God again. Let’s think twice before you go off the deep end, because Gracie Jayne has been making rough choices for a very long time. How is that God’s fault?

  The common sense of the question broadsided Tanner. Once he lost Ashley and Solomon, he’d been quick to blame God. But maybe free will and frailty of the human body should shoulder the majority of blame.

  He paced in the small waiting area, wishing he could help. An elderly woman walked in and gave him a crooked smile tucked in a wealth of wrinkles. “Your first, I expect.”

  He shook his head. “Not mine, actually. A friend. But she’s sick and it’s not time for the baby yet.”

  “Oh, dear.” She crossed the few feet separating them and grasped his hands. “Then we pray for God’s will to be done!” With a surprisingly firm grip for someone her age, she started the Lord’s Prayer. He stayed silent for the first few lines, but when she glared up at him as if he was some kind of heinous person for not joining in, he murmured the prayer along with her.

  “It’s always hardest at first,” she told him as she plunked herself down into one of the corner chairs and pulled a knitting project out of her bag.

  “Babies?” Tanner asked, but he half choked on the word because he knew that all too well.

  “Praying.” She jabbed a very sharp, pointed knitting needle his way and he decided not to be fooled by her diminutive size. “When you’re out of practice, it seems awkward, but it gets better with time.”

  Could it? he wondered.

  He’d prayed several times this evening, both on his own and under this little old woman’s somewhat firm directive, and he hadn’t been struck by lightning yet, which meant that maybe God wasn’t the vindictive overlord he saw in his mind.

  He sat across from her, watching as her aged fingers worked the combination of needles and rose-toned variegated yarn in lyrical motion. “You’re expecting a girl?”

  She glanced up, confused, then smiled at the incomplete project on her lap. “For a girl, yes.”

  “Is it your daughter? Or granddaughter?”

  She shook her head. “Like you, I have no relative here.”

  “But—”

  He wasn’t sure he could figure this out, wasn’t the least bit certain he even wanted to try, and when Julia walked in just then, he jumped up out of his seat. “How is she? How’s Gracie Jayne?”

  Her sad face told him what he didn’t want to hear, and his heart ground to a halt. “And the baby?”

  “Holding her own and bigger than I thought.”

  “She’ll be okay?”

  “The neonatologists are with her now, but she’s just over four-and-a-half pounds with good Apgar scores and a healthy set of lungs.”

  “Praise God!”

  The old woman’s words drew Julia’s attention beyond Tanner. “Betsy, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I sensed trouble in the air,” Betsy remarked, “and I came right over. I’m going to sit right here, quiet-like and knit and pray that baby to wellness.”

  “Thank you.” Julia walked over to the elderly woman, leaned down and gave her a hug. “I’m grateful, as always.”

  Her words brought color to the old woman’s cheeks. “Well, now. I do what I can, same as most.”

  “What happened, Julia?” Tanner took a step closer. “To Gracie Jayne?”

  She hauled in a deep breath and stared beyond him for long moments, and when she finally turned his way, the pain in her gaze said she felt the loss of this woman deep into her soul. “Cancer. It was end-stage when she came to us a few weeks ago. I wanted to hospitalize her then, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She had things to do. And so I let her go against my better judgment.” Her sad expression said her worst fears had been realized. “And now she’s gone.”

  “Could you have saved her? If she stayed in the hospital a few weeks ago?”

  “No. But I could have made her more comfortable. And maybe have stretched things out another week or two for the baby’s sake.”

  “Will the baby have cancer?”

  She shook her head. “No. Treatment would have put the baby at risk, so Gracie Jayne wouldn’t hear of it, but the baby should be fin
e.” She hauled in another breath, one that sounded just as heartbroken as the first. “Our social worker is calling Human Services to let them know the baby’s here.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll need to place her when she’s healthy enough.”

  He hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject and then waded in. “She wanted to know if you could raise the baby, Julia.”

  Julia paled. She stared at him as if she didn’t trust her hearing. “What did you say?”

  “When I was waiting for the ambulance with her, Gracie Jayne wanted to know if you would raise the baby. She said you were smart and you’d be a good mother to that little girl.”

  Quick tears slipped down Julia’s cheeks, one after another. “Did she really say that?”

  He nodded. “She said you’d been so kind to her and she knew you’d take good care of the baby.”

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” piped in Betsy from the corner, “but you’ve got room in that house, and plenty of family hereabouts. And a little girl would make a wonderful addition to your family, don’t you think?”

  Julia stared at her, then at Tanner. “I’ve just lost a patient and there’s an orphaned baby fighting for her life in the NICU. Right now, I just want them to save that baby, and then we’ll see what happens. With newborns so scarce for adoption, I expect there’ll be a long line of approved applicants waiting for a phone call that a baby is available. It would be selfish of me to even think such a thing when I already have two kids. Wouldn’t it?”

  Tanner heard the words but didn’t miss the note of hope in Julia’s question.

  “I shouldn’t say more,” Betsy remarked, her fingers marking stitch by stitch in quick, methodical fashion, “but folks ’round here know that Gracie Jayne Montgomery had a lot of problems in her day. Now maybe she cleaned them up and maybe she didn’t, but it don’t seem likely that folks waiting for a baby will take a chance on the premature daughter of a drug addict who died of cancer.”

  Julia’s expression said that the truth of Betsy’s words hit her hard. “You’re right, of course. It’s not always easy to place potentially sick or disabled children. And this baby might not have a thing wrong with her, but we can’t predict that.” She looked at Tanner again. “She really said that? And she managed to get to the clinic, trying to find me. Tanner, that’s the greatest gift of all, the gift of a child.”

  He knew that. He’d had the unspeakable joy and unbearable sorrow merged into a daylong window. “It’s something to think about, at least.”

  His words offered a sensible reprieve, but then Betsy made it even better by adding, “And pray. A child’s worthy of every prayer we’ve got goin’, to my way of thinkin’.” Her tart voice said any fool should know that, and once again, Tanner couldn’t disagree.

  “You’re both right.” Julia turned toward Tanner. “Would you like to see her?”

  The last time Tanner had walked into a NICU, he’d just said goodbye to his beloved wife, and twelve hours later had watched tiny Solomon breathe his last breath. He was on the verge of saying no, when Gracie Jayne’s face came back to him...coming down the mountain, taking the bus, walking that last mile in wretched weather. She’d gone the distance at death’s door. The least he could do was go welcome her baby daughter into the world. “Let’s go.”

  Julia led the way through the double set of locked doors. They paused at the wide-basined sink and washed up, a procedure he remembered like it was yesterday. And by the time they got ready and were properly gowned, the nurse inside the NICU door buzzed them in.

  A handful of babies were placed around the wide, deep room. In Erie, Solomon had been airlifted to a high-intensity NICU where the most fragile babies were taken. There had been over forty babies in that center, and the whole thing had seemed busy, volatile and crowded.

  Here?

  Monitors kept the staff aware of each baby’s progress, but the setting was calmer. More sedate. “This is it?”

  Julia turned, surprised. “As in...?”

  “There’s only a handful of babies here.”

  She nodded, still confused. “Well, we’re a regional hospital, not a major city medical center. The critical babies get airlifted to Buffalo.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’ve been in a NICU before?” The question in her eyes urged him to spill the whole story, but then a tiny cry sounded to his right. He turned and saw Gracie Jayne’s name on the card affixed to the head and foot of the crib. “This is her.”

  He stared down at the newborn girl, tiny by normal standards but robust compared to Solomon. He reached out a hand to touch her, then drew back. “Is it all right? Can I touch her?”

  “Yes.”

  He barely waited for Julia’s permission. It was as if his hand moved of its own accord, reaching across the heavy-gauge acrylic wall of the crib to touch the soft, thin skin of Gracie Jayne’s daughter. He laid his finger against her hand, and when five tiny fingers closed around his pointer as if never intending to let go, those tiny fingers did the exact same thing to his heart.

  He wasn’t sure when he started crying. It didn’t matter. Looking down, seeing this fragile baby girl staring up at him, clutching his hand, made him feel like now—right now—he could do anything and would do anything to make the world a better place for her.

  “Amazing, right?” Julia whispered the words, shoved a clutch of tissues into his free hand and bumped shoulders with him. “You old softy. Who knew the big, brave and bold New York state trooper would get all mushy over an itty-bitty baby girl like this?”

  “I blame her.” Tanner tipped his gaze down. “She grabbed hold and who’d even think a newborn baby would do that? I think she likes me.”

  Julia smiled. “Well, who doesn’t? Although you’re a little moody for my tastes,” she added, and he was instantly brought back to his almost taciturn afternoon behavior.

  “I get stupid sometimes.”

  She shrugged. “We all do.”

  “Does that mean I’m forgiven?” He looked at her directly.

  “Friends are allowed a bad day now and again.”

  The term friends meant he’d taken a firm step back. His fault, he knew, and his job was to make things right. “We need to talk soon. Have some time together and get to know each other.”

  Her yawn made him realize how late it had gotten, but then she smiled at the baby while keeping him at a polite but friendly distance. “Sure, we can talk. Sometime when I’m more awake.”

  “Are you going home now?”

  “No can do. I’ve got a patient on the way in for a labor check so I’ll be here for the night most likely. Good night, baby girl.” She stroked a finger along the curve of the baby’s cheek. “God bless you.”

  “She doesn’t have a name?”

  “There wasn’t time for names. We got her out alive. That was enough for the moment.”

  No name. No home. No one to love her, a perfectly beautiful baby girl, a child of the poor. “Is it all right if I come by to see her every day? So she has visitors?”

  “I’ll put your name on the list,” Julia promised. She yawned, stretched and straightened. “I’ve got to finish up Gracie Jayne’s chart and make sure everything’s been organized for this baby. And listen, about Sunday? I haven’t said anything to the boys about the monster truck show and it would probably be better if I go pick them up in Alfred on my own. Less confusing that way, and it won’t mess up their bedtime.”

  He deserved the brush-off after ignoring her all afternoon, but that didn’t make it easier to hear. “Let’s not decide that now. Let’s do it after we’ve both gotten some sleep.”

  Her hesitation said she’d prefer to have the matter settled, but she accepted his suggestion with a grimace as they walked out of the NICU together. “I’m not likely to change my
mind.”

  “And I’m not likely to act like a jerk again, so maybe you will change your mind. Thank you.” He raised his gaze to the double doors behind them. “For being here. Taking care of Gracie Jayne and that baby.”

  “It was a team effort, but you’re welcome. Nobody in this business works alone.”

  Her words struck home as Tanner watched her stride back to the maternity hall. Medicine was a team effort, much like construction and police work. Everyone did their part for the best possible outcome. Did that happen behind the scenes at Ashley’s obstetrical practice? Were they more of a team than he had believed?

  They’d assured him that Ashley’s heart condition had been undetectable, a fluke. In his anger and grief he chose not to believe them.

  Marty’s words came back to him. It wasn’t deliberate, they weren’t trying to mess up my life...

  He slowed his steps toward the hospital exit. Maybe he was wrong to pursue the settlement. Perhaps he let the emotions of the moment and the groundswell of grief and anger push him to choices he wouldn’t normally make. Was it too late to fix things?

  His lawyer had taken this case with hearty enthusiasm. For Tanner to back out now would mean a hefty payment to the attorney out of his bank account, but at least he had a bank account.

  Gracie Jayne’s tattered image tweaked him. Upstairs, a nameless child struggled for life because her mother trusted Julia enough to make Herculean efforts. But not everything was in the midwife’s hands. He saw that now.

  Sleep was a long time in coming. Twice he heard a baby’s cry, the phantom noise pulling him from restless slumber. When he finally did fall asleep, he managed to doze right through his alarm and if the neighbor’s dog hadn’t gone berserk chasing a squirrel, he’d have been late for work.

  He swung by the hospital on his break, determined. He strode through the back entry, straight to the elevators, and took the quick ride up to the NICU. He spoke his name through the speaker. The nurse inside activated the door, which meant Julia remembered to put his name on the baby’s visitation list. He set a box of candy on the counter of the nursing station, smiled, then crossed the short distance to the baby’s crib.