Pastor Duncan stepped up to her side. “I’ll go back in to see if I can help. The rest of the parents can get the kids back to the school. And you go toward town until you get a signal. There’s usually low signal by the time you reach the overlook—”
“There’s no time.” Landon, stripped of his shirt, sprinted past them and leapt into the bed of his old pickup. He yanked open the large, silver truck-box and pushed some things aside, obviously searching for something. A moment later he pulled out a small blue tarp and tucked it under one arm as he leapt down and started back toward the cave, still at a sprint.
“Do you need my help?” Pastor Duncan chased after him.
“Yes! Please!” Landon called back. He suddenly skidded to a halt and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Shiloh. “Pull the pickup as close to the mouth of the tunnel as you can. There’s no time for us to wait for the paramedics to get here. I’m going to have to drive her to the hospital.” With that he was sprinting again. And Pastor Duncan was right on his heels.
Molly, the pastor’s wife, rested a hand on Shiloh’s shoulder. “I’ll get all the kids rounded into vehicles and back to the school. We’ll have enough seats if you can let us use your car? You can then ride back to town with Brad and the Breckenridges.”
“Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds good.” Shiloh dug her car keys out of her backpack and handed them over. She snapped back into teacher mode for just a moment. “Class, please listen to Mrs. Duncan and be respectful. I’ll see you all in class on Monday.” And with that, she climbed into Landon’s truck and cranked the key.
The truck smelled faintly of cologne with the underlying scent of the new leather on the seats. Landon had been remodeling this truck since they were all in high school together. The thing had been almost a heap of junk when he’d proudly purchased it from the Wenatchee junk-yard. Micha had helped Landon haul the rattletrap home one weekend. She remembered because she’d been upset that he hadn’t been spending the time with her.
Now, as she pulled the truck as close as she could to the head of the short trail that led to the cave tunnel, she rolled her eyes at herself. She’d always been so selfish back then. And selfishness had cost her everything.
CHAPTER 5
Landon scrabbled through the tunnel as fast as his legs and hands could move. It had just about killed him to leave her in the cave alone, knowing her horrible fear of places like this, but an even worse fear had propelled him. The fear of losing her.
When he’d first seen that gash on the inside of her arm spurting blood in an arc across the beam of light he’d just about had a mental meltdown. What in the world had she cut it on? It must have been a sharp rock at just the right—or wrong, in this case—angle.
He could hear Zaire talking to herself as he emerged into the cavern, but when he scrambled to her side offering reassurances that he had returned, he realized that she wasn’t talking to herself at all, but praying in earnest.
Not wanting to disturb her, yet knowing time was of the essence, he reached out and touched her shoulder. “I’m back, Zai. I’m sorry I had to leave you like that. I needed to go get a tarp so we can get you out of here.”
Her words cut off, and in the harsh beam of his flashlight he saw the glint of tears on her cheeks. His teeth snapped together. He was a calloused fool for leaving her when she’d been begging him not to. And yet, there hadn’t been any other solution. And now he was going to have to hurt her again.
He steeled himself for the process. “Zai, we are going to have to carry you out of here.” Drag was more like it, once they got to the tunnel. “And it’s going to hurt.”
Already he was laying out the tarp on as flat a spot as he could find near her.
Pastor Duncan knelt by Zai’s side. “Hi, Zaire. Sorry this happened to you. Just hang in there. We’re going to get you out of here as soon as we can, okay?”
Landon tried not to feel awkward in the presence of the man who’d tried so desperately to get him to stay with Zaire, but it was no use. And he deserved to feel awkward and so much more. He’d done a terrible thing that this man had tried to talk him out of. But there was no time to linger on regrets right now, or he was going to have so, so many more in the future.
He took charge, motioning Pastor Duncan toward Zaire’s feet with a sweep of his flashlight. “Pastor, if you could take her feet. I’ll take her shoulders. We need to lay her out on the tarp so that her head is toward the tunnel, so that means we’ll have to swing her around, got it?”
Pastor Duncan moved to do as instructed. “Yes. Got it.”
Zaire gasped when they lifted her, and Landon felt everything inside him coil with regret. “I’m so sorry, babe. I know this hurts. Just a little longer and then you’ll get some good pain meds at the hospital. Hang in there, alright?”
Zaire made no reply, but whether that was because she’d passed out or simply because she was concentrating on not crying out, he couldn’t tell. Blast this stupid dark cave!
Pastor Duncan swung wide and allowed Landon to move past him so that her head and shoulders would be toward the tunnel. They set her down as gently as they could. Heart in his throat, Landon shone his light in her face. He’d never felt more relieved to see someone squint.
“Thank God.” He laid a gentle hand to the top of her head, but turned toward the pastor. “If you could go out ahead of me and make sure the seat of the truck is clear, I’ll drag her out through the tunnel and we’ll be there just as soon as we can.”
Pastor Duncan nodded. “I’m praying for you, Zaire,” he said, even as his voice grew muffled in the mouth of the tunnel.
Landon gathered the corners of the tarp into his fists. “Zai, I’m going to pull you over the ground. I know I keep saying it, but… This is going to hurt like crazy. I’m really sorry about that, but I don’t know any other way to do this. I need you to lift your head up as best you can so that you don’t whack it on a rock or anything like that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. On three.” He counted down and then backed the short distance across the cavern toward the mouth of the tunnel.
Zaire gasped a few times, but for the most part she seemed to be doing okay. At one point she said, “I knew coming into this stupid cave was a very bad idea.”
Landon chuckled. “Look on the bright side. Nothing caved in on us.”
She made a sound that was probably meant to be a huff, but came out more like a groan. “We aren’t out of here yet.”
“Almost, though.” This was good. He needed to keep her talking. “We’re at the mouth of the tunnel now, so we’re really close to getting out of here. He dropped down and thrust his feet into the tunnel so that he could back out and pull Zai along after him. “So tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself for the past couple years?”
“If you had stuck around you would know.” There was more plaintiveness in the words than rancor.
“Yeah. You’re right. I never should have left.” He scooted back and dragged her toward him. “Humor me. The store is new. How did that come about?”
“Mrs. DeWinter was ready to retire—” She broke off on a gasp of pain as he dragged her another few inches forward.
“Sorry,” he offered. How many times was he going to have to say that before he finally got her to the hospital. How had he let her fall? Of all the people in that cave, she was the one he cared about the most, and yet she was the one he had failed.
Just like always.
He shook himself from the melancholy thoughts. “Mrs. DeWinter was ready to retire…” He left the end of the sentence hanging, urging her to finish. Anything to try to keep her mind from the pain.
“…just when I realized I needed to do something with my life other than wallow in self-pity—” She broke off, and when she spoke next there was contrition in her tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to throw that in your face.”
“I deserve it.” His arms were burning now each time
he had to drag her toward him, and he was pretty sure that both his elbows and his bare stomach were bleeding. The hand he’d injured last year was shooting pains all the way up to his elbow, but he considered that maybe this was a picture of what he’d done to their marriage. Zaire broken and helpless on the tarp before him. Pain surging through him and parts of him not quite working like they once did.
Jesus, forgive me. How many times was he going to have to pray that prayer before he felt like it was doing any good?
“The money you give me each month was—is—great. And I appreciate it. I could have lived on that. But I needed to be doing something besides sitting at home feeling sorry for myself.”
“I understand.” He could see the dim afternoon light from the front of the tunnel now. They were almost out.
“So when Mrs. DeWinter put the place up for sale, I bought it.”
“Almost there now, Zai. Hang in there just a few more minutes.” He gritted his teeth and dragged her forward once more. “And do you enjoy working at the shop?”
She hesitated for a moment. “I do actually. I’ve met so many people since working there that I never would have met otherwise.”
Landon scooted back one more time, and from just behind him he heard Shiloh exclaim, “Oh, they’re here! Thank God.”
One last pull and then Landon scrambled to his feet, surprised how exhausted he was with the effort of dragging a woman who couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds. And the hand that had needed surgery was cramping tight enough that he realized he couldn’t quite get his fingers to straighten all the way. Even so, he’d managed to pull her to safety.
But one look at her in the low afternoon light just about took his legs out from under him.
Blood had spattered her face that was as pale as the mountains around the town just after a fresh snow fall. Her shirt and much of her pants were soaked in blood, and Landon suddenly had the horrible concern that she was bleeding from somewhere that he hadn’t been able to see inside.
He lurched into motion. “Zai, we have to get you into the truck. It’s just there. See it? But first I need to check you over a little better now that I can see. So we’re going to help you sit up, alright?”
She nodded.
Pastor Duncan took one side and Landon took the other.
Shiloh stood off to one side, wringing her hands like a worried mother. “I’m so sorry, Zaire.”
“Not your—” Zaire gasped as he and the pastor urged her into a sitting position, but after a moment of sitting she seemed to be doing okay. “Not your fault.” She finally was able to finish the sentence, with half a smile in Shiloh’s direction. “My own clumsiness. And fear of bats.” She shuddered when she said it.
That and the fact that he hadn’t forced her to take his hand, but now was not the time to dwell on that.
Pastor and Shiloh chuckled a little, but Landon couldn’t find anything to laugh about just yet. He checked her over, terrified of what he might find, but was thankful to see that the rest of her injuries seemed to simply be scrapes and bruises. “Thank God,” he whispered, scrubbing a hand over his face. The T-shirt he’d tied about her arm still seemed to be in the right place.
He may have killed their marriage, but at least he hadn’t killed her. At least not yet.
Maybe it was best if he left her alone like she’d made clear was her wish.
But not until after he got her to the hospital.
Micha Stanton grabbed his lab coat from the back seat and swung it on as he made his way into the Riversong Hospital for his first day of work.
His mind was still reeling over how fast this transition had taken place, but when it came to the well-being of his son, Quinten, he would move heaven and earth, which was essentially what he’d done.
The hospital doors whooshed open before him and he stepped into the moderated antiseptic air, rotating his shoulders to relax them. It was time to leave his worries about Quinten at the door. The role of father had just been exchanged for that of doctor.
Father… The word reminded him that he really should get hold of Shiloh and let her know that he’d moved back to Riversong. She might not want anything to do with him or Quinten, but she was still the boy’s mother and ought to be kept abreast of the changes in their lives.
“Doctor Stanton, to the ER. Doctor Stanton, to the ER, please.” The call came over the intercom.
Micha frowned. How had they known he was in the building? He hadn’t even checked in. Nevertheless, he turned and quickened his pace in the direction of the ER. When he came around the corner to the nurses station, a pretty redheaded nurse was waiting for him.
“Sorry to page you so soon. Dr. Morgan said he saw you pull into the lot just a moment ago. And we have an emergency headed this way that he thought would be best taken care of by you. He has a surgery scheduled.”
Micha sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He supposed things were going to be quite different here with only three doctors on staff. At his interview, they’d told him he should expect to be taking care of a ‘little bit of everything.’
The nurse was still eyeing him with a question in her eyes.
He smiled at her. “Please don’t worry. How about you tell me what’s up while I scrub in?” He moved to the set of sinks he could see through the door to his right.
Looking relieved, the nurse followed him. “Of course. The call just came in. A man is bringing in his wife for treatment. Seems that she went on a fieldtrip with the sixth-grade class from the elementary school today. She fell while in a cave outside of town and has apparently cut her inner arm badly.”
“On what?”
The nurse looked skeptical. “He said it must have been a rock.”
Micha’s brows lifted. “How about you call the police station and get someone down here. We’ll let them deal with investigating exactly what happened.”
“Of course. I’ll get right on that.”
The nurse scuttled off and Micha was just stepping out of the scrub room when the doors to the ER swept open to reveal a shirtless, filthy man carrying a slight blonde woman in his arms.
“Please, I called ahead. Where should I put her?” There was an edge of panic to the words, but Micha was frozen to the spot for a moment.
“Landon?”
Landon blinked at him, then gave a shake of his head as though he might be seeing things. “Micha?”
Behind Landon someone gasped, and Micha’s focus shifted to the woman. His heart threatened to stop in his chest. He swallowed. At least he was in an ER where he would likely get help if he collapsed from heart failure. Had it really been only a few months since he’d seen her? It seemed like much longer, and he’d somehow forgotten the impact of her beauty over the past few weeks. Quinten had her eyes and coloring.
Landon cleared his throat and Micha snapped back to attention. He snagged gloves from the box on the wall and indicated the gurney that one of the nurses had pushed toward them. “Just there, please. And tell me what happened.”
Landon laid the woman, who Micha now realized was Zaire, on the gurney. That’s right, he’d heard the two of them got married after high school. Zaire settled onto the mat with a little whimper that let him know her arm might not be the only thing injured. His gaze swept over Landon. The man was going to need some medical attention of his own. Micha snapped his fingers at the nurse and pointed to Landon’s scrapes while he gave Zaire an initial examination and listened to Landon’s explanation of what happened. He interrupted several times to ask Zaire if something hurt, but urged Landon to continue speaking each time. He’d learned that it was important not only for the well-being of a patient’s loved one, but for his analysis of a situation to let the loved ones spill as much of the story as they felt ready to in an emergency situation like this.
By the time Landon was done giving the details, Micha had determined that Zaire probably had cut her brachial artery, and likely also had broken ribs. He turned to the nurse who was standi
ng by. He’d thought her pretty a moment ago, but she looked almost plain now with his fresh reminder that no woman had ever been able to hold a candle to Shiloh in his heart.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to concentrate. “Please see to Landon’s injuries, and have someone get Zaire to an operating room. We need to clean and assess this injury, STAT.”
The nurse blinked her big blue eyes up at him. “Dr. Morgan just took his patient into the OR.”
Micha frowned. “There’s only one?”
She nodded.
Right. Think.
He looked at Zaire’s arm again. Tried not to remember the patient he’d lost last year after that severe accident on 405. You were cleared. He heard the reassurances Lori had tried to offer him when they’d gone out to dinner that night. Yeah, he’d been cleared of any wrongdoing. That didn’t change the truth that a woman under his care had passed away.
“Doctor?” the nurse prodded.
He realized he didn’t even know her name yet. “Get me the cleanest environment we’ve got. This surgery has to happen now. And find me an anesthesiologist and a surgical nurse.”
“Are you sure it can’t wait?”
“It can’t wait,” both Micha and Landon responded at the same time.
Micha reached out to lay a gentle hand on Landon’s shoulder. “Good to see you again. I wish it was under better circumstances. For now, I’m going to do my best to take care of your wife, but let’s make a point to catch up when this is all over.” He pulled off his gloves and tossed them in the nearest trash can.
Landon’s face was pale when he nodded. He looked like he might be about to say something more, but Micha needed to get scrubbed in for surgery. More, he needed to get away from the hurt radiating from Shiloh’s expressive eyes.
Soft Kisses and Birdsong (Riversong Book 2) Page 5