Rescued by a Stranger

by Lizbeth Selvig

  His momentary loss of control sent Jill’s head spinning in fear. Krieger squatted beside them, his face no longer its normal mask of arrogance.

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “Watch for the ambulance,” Chase replied, curt and angry.

  He closed his eyes once, took a breath, and when he opened them again, the businesslike look was back. He placed two fingers beside Robert’s windpipe and shook his head.

  “Okay, look out.”

  He rose up and placed the heels of his hands precisely one over the other. His compressions were quick, strong, and fluid. Jill’s tears flowed at the sight of Robert’s chest giving way to Chase’s weight.

  She lost count of the number of times his palms drove down. At last he stopped, tilted Robert’s head back, gave two quick breaths, and returned to the compressions. He went through several rotations before a faint siren wailed in the distance. Krieger trotted up the driveway without being asked.

  The sight of swirling red and blue lights heading at them sent a wave of relief through Jill. Two paramedics literally leaped from the ambulance, pulling a dozen cases and bags with them.

  “Where we at?” asked one. His partner had Robert in an oxygen mask within seconds and then counted with Chase.

  “… twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.”

  Chase rocked back on his heels and pulled his hands away, panting.

  “MI,” he said. “No respiration, no pulse. Chest pains began approximately fifteen minutes ago accompanied by nausea and vomiting. Down time is five minutes.”

  “You called this in, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  One EMT ripped open Robert’s shirt, unconcerned about popping buttons, and attached two sticky patches to the old man’s chest.

  “Would you like to handle this part?” he asked Chase.

  “I’m out of state. I’ll jump in if you need me.”

  Jill frowned at the odd exchange. The EMTs’ deference made no sense. She glanced across the grass to Krieger, whose shock seemed to have dissipated. He cocked a knowing brow at her and she spun away.

  The EMT globbed gel onto Robert’s skin, lifted two padded paddles from a case, and set some dials. It looked like a TV emergency drama, but everything was all too real.

  “Clear!”

  Everyone backed off, and Robert’s body gave a sickening jolt.

  “No change. Raise it to 250. Clear!”

  Robert’s torso bucked again, then went still.

  “One amp epinephrine.” The paramedic looked to Chase, who nodded.

  Robert received an injection and the paddles came up again.

  “Once more. Clear!”

  Jill gasped when the monitor began a steady beeping. Chase closed his eyes. “Normal sinus rhythm,” he said. “Check his respiration.”

  “He’s breathing.”

  Chase stood. He came toward her, but she saw only a stranger. Then he pulled her into his embrace, and she melted, relieved at his familiar scent, his protective hardness, his intimate kiss on her hair.

  “Go up to his room, okay? Gather whatever you can find that he might need—toothbrush, shaving things. They’ll be taking him in a minute. We’ll follow.”

  “Chase? Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Go,” he whispered gently without answering her request.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JILL SCANNED ROBERT’S room in a daze, heartbroken to see his private space for the first time under these circumstances. A worn wedding ring quilt covered a mahogany sleigh bed. Pictures of Olive taken at different times in her life sat everywhere. More of Robert’s beloved Louis L’Amours sat on a low chest, and a wrinkled work shirt sprawled on the floor.

  Unbearable sadness overwhelmed her when she faced the knowledge that Robert was likely to die.

  “No.” She spoke aloud and purposefully. “Chase won’t let him.”

  Chase. Her stomach ached in bewilderment. He’d claimed all along he knew first aid, but his actions over the past ten minutes showed he knew a lot more than a Red Cross first aid class could teach a person. She located pajamas in Robert’s closet. In a crack-mirrored bathroom medicine cabinet she found a toothbrush, a jar of nonaerosol shaving cream, and an old-fashioned, twist-handle safety razor. She rolled everything into a tight bundle and took a last, helpless look around. On impulse, she grabbed a small framed picture from Robert’s bedside table and hurried back downstairs.

  Well-ordered bustle ruled the yard. A pile of empty vials and packaging lay near Robert, still on the ground but now attached to two intravenous lines. Angel lay inches from his head, her eyes on him, intent and unblinking. Krieger’s Navigator was gone. The EMTs flung straps and blankets from the bed of a gurney. Chase bent over Robert with his back to Jill, and she stopped a few feet from him.

  “BP is still low but better,” he said. “Pupils are equal and reactive.” To her astonishment, he pulled a stethoscope from his ears and handed it to one EMT. “If you’d put in a good word for me, I wouldn’t mind talking to the cardiologist and maybe seeing the results of the twelve-lead.”

  “Happy to.”

  Chase swiveled his head and saw her. He gave a pale smile. “That was quick,” he said.

  She stared. Was he an EMT, too? Some sort of paramedic? Her brain wouldn’t work.

  He kissed her forehead. “They’re taking him now. We should put Sun away here and follow.”

  “Please tell me what’s going on,” she said. “Chase?”

  “Dr. Preston?” a paramedic called, and a shockwave slammed her. Chase’s body stiffened. He flashed her some kind of unspoken plea and turned.

  “Yes?” he asked, and they drew him away.

  Dr. Preston? She reeled in dizzy comprehension. She was an idiot. It was completely obvious. Huge chunks of the mysterious puzzle that was Chase Preston fell into place. But where she should have felt relief there was only debilitating shock.

  She’d known he had a secret. She’d suspected it was big. But this kind of big had never entered her mind. As Chase bent over Robert again, and she heard his reassuring murmurs, she told herself he hadn’t changed. Except he had. Like her father. Like Dee. Like all of them, he’d lied.

  Bald-faced lied.

  “Jill?” He looked up. “Robert’s asking for you.”

  She pushed past him and took Robert’s hand as they lifted him onto the gurney. As she knelt beside his pale body while they strapped him in, a little relief washed blessedly over her at his wan smile.

  “Hey, old man, that was quite a scare you gave us. Aren’t you ashamed?”

  He grunted beneath the clear oxygen mask, but his eyes held fear. She kissed his grizzled cheek. “Please don’t worry. We’ll be with you in a few minutes, okay? Promise me you’ll show everyone the ornery old cuss we love.”

  He blinked once. Angel licked the hand Jill held. Robert sighed.

  When he was safely aboard and the big metal doors had clanged shut, the ambulance rolled away. Its huge lights circled, and as it picked up speed going out the driveway, the siren hooted and caught.

  “They’ll take good care of him now.” Chase stood behind her.

  “You lied,” she said quietly. “To me. To everybody.”

  He tried to pull her close, but she jerked free. “I don’t blame you for being upset—”

  “Upset?” She took a step away from him. “You bet I’m upset, Dr. Preston. You’re a doctor? What kind of person hides something like that? ”

  Chase’s arms fell limply at his sides. His voice, when he answered, was colorless. “One would hope a person with a good reason.”

  Memory overtook logic. Julian Carpenter’s voice came clearly through the years. I have good reasons for this, Jillie. I’d never hurt you.

  “No. You know what?” She focused back on Chase, numbness blossoming into resentment. “If you really are a doctor you took an oath, didn’t you? However little you thought of us, you still have moral obligations. If it took Robert almost dying for you
to honor your—”

  “Stop right there.”

  Seconds before, Chase had been abject, but now his eyes and words glinted with diamond edges. The gentle hero from the summer was fully gone.

  “You be as angry at me for the past two months as you like, but don’t talk to me about oaths you will never understand.” You want some truth from me? Here you go. In the ghettos of Memphis people die from things a lot scarier than what happened here today. They die from gunshot wounds. From drug overdoses, stabbings, and diseases you’ve only read about between the pristine covers of magazines and books.

  “I’ve seen things that scare the hell out of my oaths, so for you to judge …” He clenched his fists. “Whatever you think, I did all I could for Robert.”

  He had. She knew he had. And so his secret was out. He was a doctor. It was a heroic profession, something to cause pride, not anger. So why was she so angry?

  Because. She knew of the lie only because of a crisis.

  “Since day one you’ve let me think you’re somebody you aren’t.”

  “Yes.” His voice finally softened.

  “You aren’t sorry?”

  “I am more sorry than you could possibly know.” His back remained as stiff as one of the boards he’d been pounding onto Robert’s porch all summer. “You’ve deserved to know what I really am. I had every intention of telling you. That’s what tonight was for.”

  Did he think she was stupid? “My, how convenient that is.”

  His shoulders finally sagged. “If we’re going to be at the hospital for him, we’d better get moving,” he said, ignoring her, his voice weary. “Go get Sun, and I’ll toss some hay in a stall.”

  Angel trotted two steps after him and barked, a sharp, admonishing sound. Chase ignored her, too. Jill fought the urge to follow the stranger he’d suddenly become and … and what? Smack the old Chase back into existence? She couldn’t because this wasn’t the stranger—this was the real man.

  Angel trotted to her, and Jill sank to her seat in the grass beside the beautiful dog that had brought her together with Chase in the first place. Angel gazed at the barn, her luminous brown eyes registering an eerily human sadness, then crawled fully onto Jill’s lap.

  When Jill and Chase left ten minutes later, Angel laid herself resolutely in front of Robert’s favorite chair and watched them drive away. Silence choked the interior of The Creature. Jill couldn’t shake her anger. She knew not every facet of the Chase Preston she’d loved had been faked, but his impenetrable silence dealt ax blows to her faith. If he was this unwilling to talk now, how could she believe he’d ever intended to tell her?

  She parked near the hospital emergency entrance. Once out of the truck, Chase met her eyes cautiously.

  “I deserve your anger,” he said. “I hoped for something else. I’ve hoped all summer that when you found out you’d understand. But I get that you don’t. Just know this reaction is why I never told you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re a doctor. That’s not the issue here? Why lie to me on the very first day?”

  “Because some things just plain cause pain.”

  “Yes. Like lying.”

  He turned for the hospital doors without explaining anything further.

  There were few people in the emergency waiting room, just one little boy sobbing loudly while gingerly cradling a distorted right arm. Jill, never squeamish, grimaced and followed Chase to the duty nurse.

  “We’re here for Robert McCormick,” he said. “He was brought in a short time ago.”

  “You must be Dr. Preston?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Dr. Harper is finishing his preliminary exam. If you’ll have a seat I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.”

  Their adjacent chairs could have been a canyon apart. Chase slouched into his seat, propped one elbow on the blue upholstered arm, and covered his mouth while he stared at a point somewhere in front of his feet. Jill forced herself to sit still for the next ten minutes with hands clasped like an obedient child.

  “Dr. Preston?” A tall, brown-haired man in khaki Dockers, a loosened tie, and a lab coat stood before them. “I’m Theodore Harper.”

  “Dr. Harper.” Chase stood and shook the ER doc’s hand.

  Dr. Harper turned to Jill. “Jill Carpenter,” she supplied.

  “It’s fortunate you were with him. We’ve completed the twelve-lead and this was a serious inferior MI. I suspect an LAD lesion, but I’m recommending an angiogram to be sure.”

  Chase raked a hand through his hair. “Is he a candidate for bypass?”

  “There’s a good chance. He seems strong. Are you his personal physician?”

  “No, a friend. He’s normally strong and extremely active for his age.”

  “That’s definitely in his favor. I’ll know more when the test is completed. Meanwhile, he’s asked for the two of you, and I promised he could see you for a moment. It may help. He seems quite anxious.”

  “We’ll talk to him.”

  “Where’s your practice?”

  “A private free clinic in Memphis.”

  “Well, tip of the hat. That’s a challenging environment. I’ll have someone fetch you when Mr. McCormick is ready.” He extended his hand to Jill. “Miss Carpenter? A pleasure to meet you. Excuse me then?”

  Twelve-lead. Angiogram. LAD lesion. The technical jargon swam in her head as meaningless as enemy code. The last person she wanted to turn to was Chase, but he spoke the foreign language fluently.

  “What did he say?” She forced herself to be dispassionate.

  “They did a more thorough electrocardiogram called a twelve-lead,” Chase began, equally clinically. “It’s a test that takes readings of the heart from every angle. They suspect Robert has a blockage in a main artery. Sometimes these can be repaired by bypass surgery. The angiogram will confirm the problem.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “There’s no way to promise that. Honestly? He’s been lucky to get this far. An LAD lesion has an unpleasant nickname—they call it a widow maker.”

  Jill’s hope faltered. Cruelly, she wondered if his bedside manner was always so grim.

  When they were called by a nurse, she led them through a rabbit warren of curtained stations to the one where Robert lay, his eyes closed, his brown forearms stark against the sheets. For the first time ever, he looked his advanced age.

  “I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “We can only allow a moment. He’s very weak.”

  “We understand,” Chase replied.

  Jill entered just ahead of Chase, and irrational fear gripped her. It was ridiculous, considering all the times she’d fought unflinchingly to help Ben save a life in a setting not really any different from this one, yet this place was as alien as if she’d stepped into a video game. There were no dogs or horses here. This was a world of sterile smells, vigilant monitors, and desperate hope. This was, it turned out, Chase’s world.

  “Oh, Robert, dear man.” She collected herself and smiled for him.

  His face was the color of clay. Blankets covered him to his armpits, and, above them, whorls of silver chest hair caught a pinkish hue from the caress of low lights. Four thin wires snaked into monitors on the wall.

  She clasped his hand, and his eyes opened to tired slits. “Jill? Chase?”

  “Don’t talk,” Jill said. “We’ll just sit with you a minute.”

  “I need to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “About the will.”

  “What will?” Chase laid his hand on Robert’s shoulder.

  “I changed my will. Your names are in it now. I want the farm to go to you. ”

  “What?!” They voiced their shock simultaneously.

  “You two are …” Robert’s voice caught, and his pale eyes welled with shiny tears.

  “Don’t,” Jill said again. “We’ll talk about this all later. It doesn’t matter right now.”

  “You are the daughter my Olive never had,”
he whispered. “You”—he raised his far arm slowly and grasped Chase’s hand—“you’re like another son.”

  Jill couldn’t keep her own eyes dry. “You know we both love you.” She smoothed his hair again. “But you can’t hand away a piece of property worth that much money. Not to us. Certainly someone will object.”

  “Krieger already does.” A wisp of a smile touched his mouth.

  Jill pressed his hand to her lips and allowed a chuckle. “You’re a mean old man, Robert McCormick.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When you’re better we’ll argue this out.”

  He shook his head weakly. “I don’t care what you do with the farm, my time with it is up. It was good to me. Just want to give Krieger one last pain in the ass.”

  “Robert McCormick, don’t you dare give up! You’re going to fight this to the bitter end.”

  “I’m just a tired old man.” His eyes slid closed.

  “Robert?” Panic rose like gorge in her throat.

  “It’s okay.” Chase’s words soothed.

  After a moment, when Robert’s grip remained firm in hers, and the monitors continued to beep, Jill allowed herself to relax. Seconds later Robert opened his eyes again.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what, you old coot?” Chase asked.

  “For comin’ around the place of a crazy old man.”

  “It was our pleasure and still is.”

  “You’ll care for my girls, Jill? You’ll make sure they have good care, good homes?”

  “Of course. With you. You’re going to come through this for me.”

  A nurse returned, smiling but firm. “Time is up. Dr. Harper is nearly ready. I’ll show you where to wait, and we’ll keep you informed.”

  Chase stood up still holding Robert’s hand. “See you in a while.”

  “Chase? It’s a hell of a thing. They say you’re a doctor of some kind.”

  “Of some kind.”

  “You—cracked a rib, I think.”

  “I’m sorry.” Chase shook his head sorrowfully. “It’s not a gentle thing.”

  “Thank you for that, too.”

  “Jill and I were simply the good Lord’s instruments today. Go. Get better.”