Evie didn’t want to intrude on this private moment between them. She started to ease away but to her shock, Taryn reached for her hand. “Thanks…Evie. I had to tell the truth. Nobody…else would listen.”
This was why she wanted so much to speak at the sentencing hearing, because her guilt was eating her up inside. Perhaps this experience would serve as a catalyst for change. Evie prayed that maybe now that the weight of this guilt was off her shoulders, Taryn would be able to truly turn her attention to allowing herself to heal.
“Have I ever told you that you’re just about the bravest person I’ve ever met?” Evie said softly. She hugged the girl to her and closed her eyes, aching at how empty she would feel now that Taryn and Brodie were largely out of her life.
When she stood again, she found Brodie watching her with an unreadable look in those blue eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Maura approached them, her features pale. Evie almost stepped protectively in front of Taryn, just as Jacques might have done, but she knew that was silly. Maura would never hurt the girl, no matter how deep her own pain might run.
“Taryn, there’s enough blame to go all around. Layla—” Her voice broke. “Layla wouldn’t have wanted you to carry this on your own, honey.” She pressed a hand to Taryn’s shoulder for just a moment before returning to the courtroom.
Taryn had a distant sort of look in her eyes as if she wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“She’s right,” Evie said. “Sometimes tragedies are just that. Tragic. Nobody is to blame. Yes, people could have made different choices. You could have understood that your dad was only trying to help you make better choices with your life. He loves you and wasn’t being punitive. You could have chosen to take your frustration at him out in a healthier way. All along the way, one of you could have stopped what was happening.”
The girl didn’t say anything and Evie frowned. Something didn’t feel right about Taryn’s posture and her vacant facial expression. “Taryn?”
Suddenly the girl’s head tilted backward as if someone had cut the strings holding it upright and her limbs began to tremble. Evie stepped forward and saw that Taryn’s pupils were dilated and her eyes were jerking rapidly back and forth. Evie inhaled sharply. “Taryn!”
Brodie instantly picked up on the panic in her voice. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“I think she’s seizing,” Evie said.
“Seizing? She hasn’t had a seizure in months! I thought she was done with them.”
“Apparently not.” She didn’t have time to tell him lingering seizures could be a common side effect of traumatic brain injuries, a sort of short circuit in the brain’s complicated wiring.
“We need to take her out of the chair and place her onto her side right away. It’s the best way to protect her airway.”
Without hesitating, Brodie scooped his daughter out of the wheelchair in one fast motion and laid her on the wood floor of the courtroom hallway. He rolled her to her side and Evie tilted the girl’s chin down to her chest to keep it free of obstruction and to help saliva to flow out instead of choking her throat.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Brodie asked, gazing at Evie with such trust she was overwhelmed by it.
“Let’s give her a few minutes and see if she can come out of it on her own. You don’t happen to keep Diastat in her bag?” she asked, referring to the instant medication that sometimes could stop a seizure quickly under certain circumstances.
“No.” His features were tight, worried. “I don’t think so. Like I said, she hasn’t had a seizure since we left the hospital. We thought she was done with that part. Damn it! I should never have let her testify today. I knew it was too much for her.”
Panic and memories swarmed her, harsh and biting, and it took all her strength to keep them at bay. She couldn’t do this. Not again. Cassie had died after a prolonged seizure in her sleep, when her heart had stopped and couldn’t be resuscitated. Evie had found her in the morning and now, with Taryn’s seizure, once more she was back in her house in the canyon, waiting for the paramedics to arrive while she desperately did CPR by herself and begged her daughter to come back, even knowing it was too late.
No. That was the past. This was now and Taryn needed her.
“Call an ambulance,” she finally said when the seizure didn’t abate after another minute or two.
Brodie quickly dialed 9-1-1 and Evie was checking Taryn’s pulse—steady, thank the Lord—when Mary Ella, Claire and Katherine hurried over.
“We just heard,” Katherine said, kneeling beside her granddaughter. “Oh, baby.”
“What can we do?” Claire asked.
“Just keep people away,” Evie said. “She would hate everybody staring at her like this.”
Finally, what seemed a lifetime later, the EMTs arrived and rushed in with a stretcher. Again Evie fought the need to escape but made herself stay for now until she could be sure Taryn was safely on her way to a medical facility.
“Somebody said Taryn’s sick. What’s going on?”
She turned to find Charlie pushing through the crowd, his features tight and pale. “She’s having a seizure,” Evie said. “It can be common in people who’ve suffered traumatic brain injuries.”
“Is she… Will she be okay?”
“I’m sure she will,” she said, even as her mind flashed to Cassie, still and cold.
He let out a shuddering sort of breath. “She shouldn’t have come today.”
She glanced sideways at Brodie. Finally, something the two of them could agree upon. The paramedics began to load Taryn onto the stretcher and Brodie moved away from his daughter’s side slightly to give them room to work, which brought him closer to Evie and Charlie. She wanted to touch Brodie somehow, to reassure him, but she wasn’t sure whether he would welcome her presence now.
“She wanted to set the record straight, I think,” Evie said to Charlie. “I know it bothered her to have people blame you when it sounds like you tried all along to stop events from exploding out of control. Why didn’t you say something?”
He gazed at the paramedics bustling around the girl. “What she said—none of that matters. I was driving. I was responsible. I could have done the right thing and stopped when Chief McKnight first flashed his lights at us. I didn’t have to listen to everyone else. I should have been the leader and stood up to them, no matter how hard it was. None of it should have happened and if I had manned up, I could have stopped it.”
Brodie was apparently close enough to catch that part. Though his attention remained largely focused on Taryn and the paramedics working on her, he turned slightly and after a long pause, he lifted his hand and rested it on Charlie’s shoulder.
The boy lifted startled eyes to him, as if afraid Brodie would shove him to the ground, but he did nothing, other than stand beside the boy offering that small gesture of, if not quite forgiveness, at least reconciliation and peace.
The accord lasted only briefly and Brodie didn’t even speak, but Charlie released a deep breath, astonishment and relief on his features, as Brodie turned his attention back to the paramedics, now readying the stretcher to head to the ambulance.
Evie fought a hot sting of tears as she watched him return to his daughter’s side. Love for him was a heavy weight in her chest, painful and hot and wonderful at the same time.
She wasn’t afraid anymore, she realized. Taryn was going to be okay. She didn’t know how she knew but it was a quiet assurance that settled in her heart. This wasn’t like Cassie. Already she could see Taryn’s trembling begin to ease as the medication the EMTs had administered began to take effect.
She stood beside Charlie and watched the paramedics push the stretcher toward the elevator with Brodie holding his daughter’s hand, and a sweet assurance seemed to flow through her.
She loved Brodie Thorne. If Taryn could confront her fears by coming to the courtroom and shouldering more blame than she should for the accident, and if Brodie could
face his anger at Charlie and let the first seeds of forgiveness take root, surely she could show the requisite courage to let him into her heart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HE HATED HOSPITALS.
Brodie had never been all that crazy about them—who was, really?—but after the last four months with Taryn, if he never saw the inside of another one he wouldn’t lose any sleep about it. Here he was again, though, at the Children’s Hospital in Denver, sitting by his daughter’s bedside while she slept.
Her seizure had lasted about twenty minutes, start to finish. By the time the EMTs had taken her to the emergency room at the small hospital in Hope’s Crossing, it had begun to stop. Given her underlying condition, the E.R. docs hadn’t wanted to take any chances and had opted to transfer her by ambulance here, to the hospital where he had spent so many long and miserable hours in the early days after the accident.
He knew every inch of this hospital, from floor to ceiling. Though it was a place of healing and hope to many and he had deep gratitude for the dedicated professionals who worked here trying to help children, these walls represented stress and worry and pivotal moments that had changed his daughter’s world.
The uncomfortable bedside chair squeaked a little as he shifted position with the restless energy that was so tough to deal with in the close confines of a hospital room. At the sound, Taryn opened her eyes. They were slightly unfocused at first and then she smiled at him.
“Dad?”
“Right here, honey.”
“Go home. I’m…okay.”
Taryn was bleary-eyed and exhausted from the medication and the aftereffects of the long seizure. She could barely keep her eyes open. Doctors had a term for it—postictal, when the body sort of shut down to allow the brain time to reset itself. He just called it completely wiped.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, except maybe to grab a bit to eat. Just rest. If you wake up and I’m not here, I just went downstairs to the cafeteria, but I’ll be right back.”
She was quiet for several minutes and he thought she’d fallen asleep again, but she slowly pried her eyes open again. “Are…you mad?”
Her halting words in the courtroom rang through his head, as they’d been doing through the long afternoon and evening. My fault…my idea… I was mad at my dad….
His chest ached and he reached for her hand and curled his fingers around it. “No, honey. I’m not angry with you. How could I be? You’ve more than paid for a few lousy choices. We all made mistakes last spring. I promise I’ll try to listen better when you’re struggling and I hope you feel like you can come to me next time when things aren’t right between us.”
“There won’t be…a next time.”
“That’s good to hear.” He squeezed her fingers and she closed her eyes. Just as he started to ease his hand away, she opened them halfway.
“What about Charlie?”
A peculiar combination of anger and guilt settled in his gut whenever he thought about Charlie Beaumont. Since April, he had nurtured his hatred of the kid, blaming Charlie for everything that had happened to Taryn. He still didn’t quite know how to readjust his thinking. Some part of him still blamed Charlie. The kid had been driving and even the small amount of alcohol in his system had been enough to slow his reflexes and hinder his judgment. He could have stayed firm, no matter what kind of pressure his peers squeezed him with.
Brodie’s anger didn’t have the hard edge it might have that morning, though. Taryn’s halting words in the courtroom had ameliorated much of it and left him conflicted about how he should feel.
Evie would probably tell him he needed to forgive in order to move on.
Remembering her and the quiet strength beside him in the courtroom also left him with that funny clench of his insides. He would have been lost without her, both during Taryn’s time on the stand when she had reached for his hand, and later during the seizure when she had taken over with that calm confidence as he fought wild panic.
“Is he going to…jail?” Taryn asked.
He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. Judge Kawa’s sentencing decision had come down about two hours earlier. Brodie’s mother, at his request, had stayed in Hope’s Crossing for the hearing instead of coming along to the hospital. She hadn’t been happy about it but he’d asked her to wait until he knew how long the doctors would want to keep Taryn before she dropped everything and drove to Denver.
Since he’d ridden in the ambulance anyway, he and Taryn would need a ride home in the morning and Katherine could drive in then with the van to pick them up.
His mother had called to give him the news—Charlie had been sentenced to one year in a youth correctional facility, followed by three years’ probation and a suspended driver’s license until he was twenty-one.
Earlier in the day, he would have been furious. How was one year enough to atone for the loss of one life and the destruction of another? After Taryn’s testimony, now he didn’t know quite what to think.
“He’ll spend a year in juvenile detention,” he said, opting for honesty. “The judge left room for him to get out early for good behavior.”
“One year,” she whispered. “I’ll miss him.”
He couldn’t believe he was actually saying this but the words tumbled out anyway. “We can visit him if you want. But you’re going to have to promise to work hard on getting better.”
“I want to…now,” she said. His heart ached all over again that she had carried the weight of that guilt inside her, allowing it to hinder her efforts at rehabilitation.
“I know you will.”
She gave him a half smile and closed her eyes again. When he was certain she had slipped fully back into sleep this time, he released her hand and leaned back in the chair, listening to the low whir of the IV pump and the hum of the other equipment in the room.
He supposed he must have drifted off into that half sleep that was usually all he could manage here in the hospital. Some time later, the quiet whoosh of the door opening pierced through his subconscious. Assuming it was one of the nurses or aides making their frequent trips in to check vital statistics, he didn’t bother to open his eyes until the soft scent of wildflowers drifted to him over the astringent hospital scents.
He opened his eyes to find Evie standing just inside the door. She was still dressed in that formal shirt, skirt and jacket she’d worn in court, as if she hadn’t made it home to change, and she carried a couple of woven bags.
Their gazes met and Brodie straightened in his chair, stunned at the soft, healing peace seeping through him. How did just the sight of her do that, center and calm him so instantly? He probably ought to be a little freaked out by it but all he could manage was sheer happiness that she was there.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” She pitched her voice low with a sideways glance to the still-sleeping Taryn. “When I came in and found you asleep, I thought I would just drop a few things off along with a quick note. Uh, your mother sent a change of clothing and I thought maybe you might be hungry so I had Dermot at the café pack a couple of sandwiches for you.”
His stomach grumbled on cue and he remembered he hadn’t eaten since before court that morning and it was now past seven. Yeah, he was hungry, but mostly he just wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold on.
He forced himself to focus on the food. “That sounds fantastic. I could eat about a half dozen of Dermot’s sandwiches right about now.”
“I’m not sure he loaded a half dozen in there,” she said with a rueful smile, holding out the bag to him. “It should be enough to get you started, anyway. I believe he said something about chips and a slice of pie, so you should be set.”
“Thank you.” He had so many other things he wanted to say to her, words that had chased themselves around his head for the last week, and especially today in court as she had shared her steady strength when he needed it most.
“How is she?” Evie asked.
“Good. Sleepy. The docs want t
o be extracautious to make sure she’s not suddenly entering into a seizure cycle, so they’re watching her carefully. By all indications, I think we’ll be going home tomorrow.”
“I hope so.” She moved closer to the bed that dominated the room, gazing down at Taryn with deep tenderness in her eyes.
His heart ached all over again. She loved his daughter. It was clear on her features. Despite all the pain and loss of her own life, Evie was still willing to open her heart to a wounded girl who needed her desperately. She had given up the dog she loved because she simply wanted to help Taryn heal.
Was it any wonder he was crazy in love with this woman?
The realization just about knocked him back on the uncomfortable vinyl of the hospital chair.
He was in love with Evaline Blanchard. For the generous way she loved his daughter, yes, but for so many other reasons.
She made him laugh when life seemed deadly serious. He’d never realized how very much he needed those light and sweet moments until Evie had come along.
She had a way of seeing the good in everyone. Just look at how she had reached out to Charlie when everyone else in town was ready to stone the kid.
Most of all, she centered him. That part made no sense on the surface. Evie wasn’t a calming person. All that vibrant life, the colorful beads, the passion and heat. He didn’t understand why but when he was with her, the chaos in his head seemed to quiet.
He needed her in his life, like he needed the mountains and sunshine, and he damn well wasn’t going to give her up without a fight.
“I could use some air,” he said gruffly. Too gruffly, apparently. She gave him a concerned look.
“Would you like me to stay here with Taryn?”
“I’d like you to come with me.” He was screwing this up, nervous around a woman for the first time since he was about fifteen years old. “I would enjoy the company. Would you like to take a walk with me downstairs to the meditation garden? There are a few tables there where I can eat this delicious dinner you brought me.”
“Is it all right to leave her?”
RaeAnne Thayne Hope's Crossings Series Volume One: Blackberry SummerWoodrose MountainSweet Laurel Falls Page 55