All these things were running through Leah’s mind at the same time that another part of her, this part linked even more directly to her heart, was worried about Adam and the fight he’d had with his son. Where was Brian? Had he returned to Aurelia’s house to find them all gone? It might be hours before Aurelia’s condition stabilized, and there was no way to get word to him of what had happened, other than leaving a note with the desk clerk at the Hideaway Inn.
“Adam?” She kept her voice pitched low so as not to disturb Juliet.
He was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his folded hands, lost in his thoughts. He looked up when she spoke his name. “Yes?”
“You should go and find Brian. Make things right with him.” She held out her hands, hoping he would take her in his arms, not shut her out. She dreaded that most of all.
“I don’t know if that’s possible.” He stood up and took her hands in his, but didn’t bring her closer.
“Don’t say that, Adam. He’s your son. You have to make things right between you.”
“He accused me of shutting him out of my life a long time ago, and he was right.”
“Then tell him you’re sorry. That you want it to be different now.” She saw him pulling away, even though he didn’t move a muscle. She remembered what he had told her all those months ago in Vietnam. His parents were dead. He was virtually estranged from his only brother. Brian was all the family he had in the world. She had to make him see how important it was to heal the breach between them.
She moved into his arms. He hesitated a moment, then held her close. She let herself be comforted by his strength and the solidness of his body, then leaned back in his arms so she could see his face. “You don’t have to tell him everything tonight, Adam, but at least tell him about the post-traumatic stress. Tell him his bicycle accident started it again for you. That’s what he remembers, isn’t it? Your distancing yourself from him after that happened? Give him a reason. He’s an intelligent young man. He’ll understand. All he really wants is for you to tell him you love him.”
Dear Lord, that was all she wanted for herself and the baby, too.
His voice was anguished. “God, Leah, don’t you know that’s the hardest thing of all for me to say?”
“Adam, please. For the baby’s sake.” Desperation gave her voice an edge. He winced. She hadn’t meant the words as a threat, but he seemed to take them as such.
“I’ll do my best to make him understand.”
“Go now. Take my Jeep.”
“Will you be all right here alone with Juliet?”
“Yes.” She stepped out of his arms. She reached up and brushed her fingers across his cheek. She loved him. She had taken him into her heart. She wanted him to find happiness again. She wanted him to regain his son’s trust and love so that her child could benefit from that love, too. “Caleb’s here if we need him. Go to your son.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CALEB’S PICKUP was still parked in its usual place beside the Cherokee, and for a minute or two Adam let himself hope Brian’s anger had played itself out on the drive into town. He didn’t want to lose his son, but it wasn’t going to be easy to make things right. He still couldn’t attempt to face the past without retreating to that gray nothingness inside that kept him sane.
Adam knocked lightly on the connecting door to Brian’s room. He waited a moment, then turned the knob. Brian’s things were gone, and his backpack and carry-on, the only luggage he’d brought with him, weren’t in the closet. The bathroom was empty of shaving gear. His son had left town, just as he’d threatened.
For a moment Adam just stood there. He didn’t know what to do next. Go after him? He didn’t have the slightest idea where to start looking. Brian hadn’t taken the pickup or the Cherokee, so that meant he’d either just started walking or hitched a ride out of town. It had been a little over two hours since he’d barreled out of Aurelia’s yard. He had at least an hour’s head start.
A rectangle of white on the table by the window caught Adam’s eye as he shut the door to Brian’s room. It was a letter, weighted down by the keys to Caleb’s truck. Brian had left a note asking him, Adam, to return Carlotta with his thanks. Beneath the letter was a second one, sealed in an envelope with the Hideaway’s return address printed on the corner. It was for Juliet, but there was nothing more for him.
Adam headed out to the Cherokee without a thought in his mind except finding his son and talking him into staying in Slate Hollow. If not for Adam’s sake, then for Juliet’s. He drove out of town along the highway, not really certain how far he intended to go. He couldn’t leave Leah without any explanation and follow Brian to Chicago, which was his first impulse. But neither could he sit idly in the hospital waiting room without making some effort to determine his son was all right.
Rain was coming down hard by the time he got to the cluster of fast-food restaurants that lined both sides of the road at the interstate exit. He pulled into the parking lot of the truck stop and went inside. It was a big place with a restaurant and newsstand, a video-rental shop, a barbershop and showers for road-weary drivers. He found what he was looking for tucked away in a corner near the back. The Greyhound ticket window. An elderly man with a monk’s fringe of gray hair and wire-rim glasses perched on the end of his nose, was on duty.
“Has anyone been in here to buy a ticket to Chicago in the past couple of hours?”
“No one’s bought a ticket here for anyplace today,” the old man answered. “Next bus through here goes to Charlotte, and that don’t leave till ten tonight. One don’t go north till Tuesday.”
“This was a young man. A little over six feet, dark hair, wearing a leather coat. My son.” His voice almost broke on the words. “He probably had a backpack and a carry-on.”
“No one bought a ticket here today, I said.” The old man was adamant.
“Thanks.” Adam turned away. Not finding Brian here was a blow. He’d hoped against hope his son would be waiting for a bus at the station.
“I said no one bought a ticket today. Didn’t say no one asked about one.”
Adam spun around. “He was here?”
“Six feet tall, dark hair, longer than yours. Gold earring.” The old man curled up his lip in displeasure. “Same nose and chin you got. Yeah, he was here. Couple hours ago.”
“But you say he didn’t buy a ticket?”
“I did, because that’s what you asked me.”
“Did you see where he went when he left here?”
“Nope. Ain’t none of my business what anyone does once they leave this here window.”
“Did you see him talking to anyone?” Adam persisted. “Did he get a ride with one of the trucker?”
“Mister, look around. There’s been thirty, forty people through here since then. If he hitched a ride with a trucker, I didn’t see him do it. He was here, and he didn’t buy a ticket.”
“You’ve been a big help.” Once more Adam turned to leave.
“’Course, I did tell him there’s a bus leaving the Lexington station for Cincy today.”
“When?” Adam wanted to reach through the grated window and take the old coot by the throat, shake him until his teeth rattled. He balled his hands into fists and then deliberately relaxed them again. Violence would get him nowhere. The old man held all the cards at the moment, and there was nothing he could do but play along.
The ticket agent looked over his shoulder at the clock on the wall behind him. “Leaves in about fifteen minutes, I’d say. If she’s on time.”
“Is she usually on time?” Something in his voice must have alerted the old man he was at the end of his patience.
“I’ll call and check it out if you want.”
“I’d appreciate it.” It was a twenty-minute drive to the outskirts of Lexington. Adam had no idea how the city was laid out, how much longer it would take to reach the bus station; he just knew he had to try to catch up with Brian if it was humanly possible.
The old man picked up a phone and punched in a number. “Yeah, Harry? This is Mel over at Slate Hollow. Your seven-fifteen to Cincy on time? She is. Good. Glad to hear it. Okay.”
“Ask him if anyone matching my son’s description bought a ticket for Chicago in the last hour.” Adam had learned his lesson dealing with Mel.
The ticket agent did as he asked. “He says nope. No one looking like that’s bought a ticket. Sorry.”
“Have him paged.”
“That’s not my job.”
Adam reached through the grate and grabbed Mel by the front of the shirt. “I’m tired of your games, old man. Give me the phone.” He couldn’t give up on finding Brian, not yet. “Harry, this is Dr. Adam Sauder. Are you certain no one answering my son’s description is getting on that bus?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
Adam felt his anger drain away into despair. “Okay, I believe you. If he does show up, you give Mel here at Slate Hollow a call. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Adam handed the phone back to the ticket agent. “You call me if you hear from Harry.”
“Yes, sir,” Mel sputtered.
“Thanks for your help. If he shows up here or in Lexington, you can reach me at Slate Hollow Memorial. I’ll be there the rest of the night.”
CALEB STRODE into the waiting room at his usual energetic pace. He never seemed to tire, Leah thought, although he must have had a long day. He was a deacon of his church, and the early service on Sundays was at eight. He’d probably been up several hours before that, reading the Sunday paper and catching up with medical-journal articles he gathered off the Internet.
It was a quiet evening in the ER. She and Juliet were the only two people in the waiting room. Adam hadn’t returned. He’d been gone nearly an hour. Juliet was still sleeping, curled up on the couch at the far end of the room. Leah went forward to meet Caleb near the doorway, so they could talk without waking her.
“How is Aurelia? Can we see her?” She wasn’t a nurse at the moment. She was as worried as any family member.
“Hey, Leah, slow down a bit. Give me a chance to pour a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“I’m sorry, Caleb. It’s just...well, I’m not used to being on this side of the equation around here.”
“I know. Doctors and nurses make the worst patients. They make the worst family members to deal with, too.” He put his hand on Leah’s shoulder. “She’s going to make it—this time.” He looked at the sleeping teenager. “It won’t be much longer, Leah. It would probably be a good idea to start preparing Juliet for the eventuality of Aurelia going to the county hospice.”
Leah pressed her fingers against her lips to stop them from trembling. She’d known this day was coming, but it was hard to hear the words. “Oh, Caleb, she wants so badly to die at home.”
“Juliet’s in no condition to be Aurelia’s caregiver. There’s a waiting list a mile long for home-care nurses, especially for the night shift.” Caleb shook his head. “I’m sorry, Leah, but facts are facts.”
“Naomi Dunn’s a good practical nurse. She’ll stay until the end if I ask her. And I’ll stay with Aurelia and Juliet at night.” Juliet depended on her. Aurelia had been her friend since her earliest days in Slate Hollow. She couldn’t desert them now.
“Leah, it might be weeks. You have your own health—”
“It might only be days.”
Caleb exhaled a gusty sigh. “Yes. I’ll see if I can get you a home-care aide to come in the mornings to help spell you and Naomi, and so there’s someone available if...if she’s still with us when Juliet’s baby comes.”
Leah gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I knew I could count on you. Thanks, Caleb. When can we take her home?”
“Late tomorrow morning if she has a good night.”
“Fine. I have patients scheduled for tomorrow morning. One home visit I can push back till three. Oh, I forgot. Juliet’s appointment with the Lex General obstetrician is tomorrow. I’ll—”
“I’ll take her to Lex General.” Leah hadn’t seen Adam approach. He was standing just outside the doorway. His hair was shining with moisture, the shoulders of his coat darkened with rain. He was alone.
“You didn’t find Brian?”
He shook his head. “He’s left town.” Adam stepped into the waiting room and handed Caleb a set of keys. “My son asked me to give you these and to tell you he’s most appreciative for the use of the truck.”
“Brian’s gone?” Caleb asked as he pocketed the keys. “I was under the impression he was planning to stay around town awhile.”
For a moment Leah thought Adam would ignore the question. “We had an argument this afternoon,” he said at last. “A difference of opinion over what’s best for Juliet’s future. He’s determined to see she has the resources to keep her baby and go to school, or whatever she wants to do. He’s gone back to Chicago to sell his car and bring her the money.”
“Quite a gesture,” Caleb said.
“He cares about Juliet,” Leah said. She went to Adam, hesitating only a little. She had committed herself to him. He hadn’t yet committed himself to her in the same way, but if she was going to live her life with him, she would not do so at arm’s length. She slid her arms around his waist. After a moment’s hesitation he enfolded her in his embrace.
“How did he leave town? Did you give him your truck?” she asked. Adam’s leather jacket was wet with rain, cool beneath her cheek.
Adam shook his head. “He must have hitched a ride with a trucker. I’ve been trying my damnedest to find out if he caught a bus out by the interstate, but the old reprobate running the place wasn’t much help. I finally got him to call the bus station in Lexington, but the ticket agent there hadn’t seen anyone fitting Brian’s description.”
“Adam, you should have gone after him.”
He reached up and traced the tip of his finger down her cheek. “I came back to be with you.”
Leah swallowed against the tightness in her throat. He was tom; she could feel the tension in the muscles of his arms as he held her close. “We’re okay. Brian should be your first concern.”
He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “He’s a grown man, Leah. He’ll be okay. I’ll make my peace with him when he returns.”
“Promise you’ll try to contact him soon, please, for all our sakes,” she said softly.
“I promise. Do you want me to drive you and Juliet to your place?”
“I’m not going home, Adam. Aurelia hates hospitals. I’ll stay here with her tonight, and then I’ll be staying at her place for...a while.”
“I overheard your plans, but tonight you’re going home to rest—both you and Juliet. I’ll stay here and watch over Aurelia.”
A BABY WAS CRYING somewhere nearby. Adam shot bolt upright in the chair where he’d kept vigil beside Aurelia’s bed. Were the baby’s cries echoes of long ago or real, in the here and now? For a moment he couldn’t be certain. He stood up and leaned over the rail to study the old woman in the high bed. She was sleeping, her breathing even but shallow, a slight frown of discomfort between her eyebrows despite the sedatives and pain meds she’d been given.
It had been touch and go for several hours after Aurelia’s collapse, Caleb had informed him before he left the hospital. Her heart was greatly weakened by its struggle to obtain enough oxygen from her failing lungs. The older physician had prescribed sublingual morphine for the pain, whenever it became necessary. If God was kind, Aurelia would be asleep as her life slipped away.
He heard the baby crying again. Adam stiffened. Time altered for a moment. He was back in Vietnam in the flooded rice paddy. A baby was still alive. A miracle in that scene of death and carnage. Why wasn’t someone taking care of her, tending to her wounds? He found himself out in the hall—and back in reality.
The ER was mostly quiet. Slate Hollow was a small hospital. Less than half-a-dozen patients had been admitted through the automatic doors since mi
dnight, and none were serious from what Adam could see and overhear from his place beside Aurelia’s bed. There was only a case of heartburn, which might have been a heart attack but wasn’t, and a fender bender out on the highway that had resulted in a case of whiplash and assorted scrapes and bruises. There were no spinal-cord injuries, no bullets wounds, no cerebral aneurysm to be tied off and carefully removed from a living brain. Not tonight, anyway.
But perhaps on other nights there were? Adam could see himself walking through those doors, making the life-and-death decisions he’d trained fifteen years to make. If there was anyplace on earth he could heal enough to work again, it was here in Slate Hollow. If only he could forget. But the baby’s crying continued, and he couldn’t stop himself from following the sobbing wails.
The young ER nurse Caleb had introduced him to before he left at eleven came out of a treatment room a few doors down from Aurelia’s. “Can I get something for you, Dr. Sauder?” she asked.
“There’s a baby crying.” Deep inside, Adam heard the screams of maimed and dying children. He fought to ignore them, to still the tremors. In a matter of months he would be a father again. He would hear a baby crying, his baby and Leah’s. He couldn’t let it get to him this way.
“Just an earache,” the nurse said with a smile. “Always in the middle of the night—new parents and a crying baby. They just can’t wait until morning. You know how it is.”
“Yes, I know how it is.” An earache, an ordinary childhood ailment. If he walked into the examining room now, he would find nothing more terrible than exhausted parents and a fussing, feverish infant. Yet he couldn’t take those steps, that leap of faith, so he returned to Aurelia’s room, still a captive of the past.
“Who’s there?” asked a peevish old voice.
Winter Soldier (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) Page 17