by Kim Mckade
She waited for the panic to come, to overwhelm her. Almost welcomed it, because it would come and take her away from this, give her somewhere to go besides here She waited, and stared at Carl.
But instead of the roar of her breath and the thud of her heart, she heard only the voice of Toby.
I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.
She felt him beside her, encouraging her. He would be the one to encourage her, she thought. He and her aunt were the only ones who’d ever believed in her.
Of its own volition, her body moved forward, until she knelt beside Carl. As if it were someone else doing it, she reached out and touched cold fingers to the side of his neck.
She wasn’t sure if it was his pulse she was feeling, or the rapid beat of her own heart, throbbing in her fingertips. But he moaned and shifted, and she let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
“Carl,” she said softly tapping him on the face. “Carl, wake up” She looked around them again, disoriented. She couldn’t even remember which direction they’d taken from town A blessed, numbing fog clouded her brain. “Carl.”
He remained silent, breathing shallowly. Corinne started to lift him, but stopped, not knowing how badly he was hurt, not wanting to make it worse. Gingerly she ran her fingers over his head, checking for wounds. Her fingers came away sticky with warm blood, but not a lot. Detached, she continued her exploration down both arms and his torso, checking for anything.
His legs stretched out under the bed of the pickup, and she squatted, feeling with fingers gone numb either from shock or cold. Her head reeled, and she braced herself with one hand on his stomach to keep herself from falling over.
Her hand stretched down, across the cold denim covering his thigh—and struck metal.
Confused, she bent and searched the shadows under the bed of the pickup. The back tire was flat, punctured somewhere along their violent ride through the field. The cold metal of the wheel bit through the material of Carl’s jeans, through muscle, and straight to bone.
“No!” Corinne suddenly jolted into action. The numbness that had protected her since she woke fled in an instant. She scrambled down and felt again the warm sticky blood that flowed out of the wound. She lay her hand there for a moment, until she felt the blood pump out, again and again, in a hot flood over her hand.
She reeled back, horrified, the smell of blood thick in her nose. He couldn’t live long, not bleeding like that. “Carl!” she cried. “Wake up!”
She felt it now, the terror, building out of control. I’ll take care of you. Her heart thundered, and her breath pounded out of her. I’m here now, I’ll take care of you.
“Oh, Toby, what do I do, what do I do?”
She spoke the words to herself, and tried in her panic to push the wheel back, to draw Carl’s leg out. He woke, and screamed.
Corinne jumped up and dove into the cab of the pickup, wrenching the key in the ignition. The truck wouldn’t start.
Carl screamed in agony, again and again. Corinne ran back to him, the panic building in her chest, choking her. She didn’t know what to do. She whipped her head around again, searching fruitlessly for help from some quarter. But she was alone. Alone, again, with impending death.
You’re mine, and I’ll take care of you.
She dropped down beside Carl and tried to think. She had to stop the bleeding She grabbed at his belt, fumbling with the buckle, and finally yanked it from his belt loops with a mighty tug She looped the belt around his thigh, above the wound, trying to ignore his tortured screams. She wound it around his leg twice, tugging it tight, and tucked the ends in.
Suddenly, Carl stopped screaming. Corinne put her ear to his mouth; he was still breathing, just thankfully passed out, either from the pain or the blood loss.
She pulled her baggy sweatshirt off then over Carl’s head, tugging him upright to do it. He rested limply against her, and she prayed that he wouldn’t wake up again. She was left in only her thin tank top, and her skin pebbled instantly with the cold. Her body felt the icy air, and the hot tears that coursed down her cheeks, but her mind didn’t register it.
She scrambled to get his arms into the sleeves, thinking only to keep him as warm as possible. She lay his head gently back on the ground.
“I’m going to get help,” she said to the still form. She knew he couldn’t hear her; she said it to reassure herself that there was something she could do.
She remained for a moment, not wanting to leave him alone. But there was nothing she could do. With a silent prayer that he not wake until she returned with help, she started running back toward the road.
Toby burst through the elevator doors as soon as they opened. “Corinne Maxwell?” he said to the nurse at the desk. “She just came in on the helicopter.”
The nurse shrugged “A boy came in on the helicopter. He’s in trauma.”
“There was a lady with him.” He knew she was there, he’d listened to the transmission on the radio on the way over
The nurse gave him a blank look. “I didn’t see a lady. If you want to talk to the doctor...”
Toby groaned and walked away, wandering frantically around the emergency room. He batted back the curtains to cubicles and opened doors, searching. He moved to the back of the room. A door swung open across the hall, and he caught a quick blur of green scrubs and frenzied activity. He lunged and pushed his way through the door.
The mayhem inside the room was concentrated around a gurney. His legs suddenly leaden, Toby crossed the white room. A dozen people swarmed around the patient on the bed.
Toby stepped close, his hat in his hand and his heart in his throat. A nurse moved aside. Carl lay on the bed. His face was as white as the sheet he lay on. An IV dripped blood into his arm. An oxygen mask cupped his face. A team of doctors and nurses covered his body like a giant team of worker ants.
Something in Toby’s stomach unclenched at the knowledge that it wasn’t Corinne.
“Who is that? Somebody get that guy out of here!” a doctor yelled. “What’s the blood alcohol level?”
Toby stepped back, but he was still in the midst of the mayhem. He asked a nurse hurrying by, “Is he going to make it?”
“They’re doing everything they can.” Her face was an impersonal mask. “Please step into the hallway.”
Toby swallowed and turned away. He saw Corinne then. She was on the other side of a window, sitting on a gurney along the hallway outside. He rushed through the door to her. Her thin white tank top was covered with blood, and she held a towel in her hand. An ugly gash slashed across her forehead, over her eye She stared through the window at the bustle of activity going on around Carl
“Thank God!” Toby crossed the hall and reached to hug her. He stopped, his hands in midair, not sure if he should touch her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said tiredly. “Carl’s hurt. He lost a lot of blood.”
Her voice was robotic, her eyes dead. Toby cupped her shoulders and looked hard at her. “Have you seen a doctor about your head? Your skin is like ice.”
She wrinkled her brow and craned her neck to look behind him, saying lazily, “They gave me a blanket....”
“You need to see a doctor, sweetheart.” The blank look in her eyes terrified him. Her hands were blue, and she seemed to be in a daze. Was this shock?
Dan Buchanan burst through the swinging doors. “Where’s my son? Carl?”
His wife, Belinda, hurried behind him, her face pinched with fear. They both ran toward the table.
A nurse headed them off. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait outside. The doctors are doing everything they can. Please give them room to work.”
Dan refused to be budged. “I want to see my son! Someone tell me what’s going on.”
Toby walked up and took Dan by the elbow. “Dan, you need to wait outside so—”
“What the hell are you doing here? What happened to Carl?”
“He was in an accident. He drove off t
he road and into a tree in the Huckaby’s pasture. The doctors are doing everything they can, so please step back—”
“You step back. I’m going to see my son.”
Toby collared Dan and pushed him outside the swinging doors. Corinne dropped her blanket and followed them.
“You?” Dan said when he saw Corinne. “What the hell are you doing here? Trying to get my son into more trouble, I’m sure ”
“Do not talk to her like that,” Toby said sternly. “She was in the pickup with Carl when he wrecked it.” He put an arm around Corinne. “You should go back and sit down, sweetheart. You’re too pale ”
“What were you doing in my son’s pickup, lady?” Dan’s voice was a grating roar. Toby motioned to silence him, but Corinne stepped past him and turned to Dan.
“Mr. Buchanan, I believe your son has a drinking problem. He was drinking when he drove past my house tonight. He was very upset, talking about how he had no future—”
“My son doesn’t have a problem except for nosy jackasses like you—”
“Don’t talk to her that way,” Toby ordered again. He placed a hand on Dan’s massive arm. Dan tossed it off, drawing his own fist back.
Toby glared at him. “Do it,” he said softly. “Hit me. I’m just waiting for an excuse.”
Dan swung just as Belinda screamed. “Dan, no!”
Toby ducked the punch easily, and delivered one quick shot to Dan’s jaw. He pulled back his fist for another shot, when movement to his side caught his eye.
Corinne collapsed in a faint, and Toby caught her just before she hit the floor.
Chapter 15
Toby pulled a chair to the side of Corinne’s bed and took her hand. The space around the edge of the hospital curtain was growing lighter; the sun was up. A new dawn. He closed his eyes and prayed his thanks that the woman in front of him would see it and many more. He thought she was asleep, but she opened her eyes and gave him a weak smile.
“Don’t look like that, Sheriff,” she said groggily. “It’s just a bump on the head. I’ll be home tomorrow.”
Toby swallowed and kissed her forehead softly, beside the bandage. “It could have been worse.”
“It wasn’t. How’s Carl?”
Toby shook his head solemnly. “I still haven’t heard anything. He’s out of surgery, but that’s all I know.”
Corinne nodded and closed her eyes.
Toby rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her. He’d looked at her all night, afraid that if he closed his eyes she would be swept away from him again by some malevolent force bent on having her There were bruises everywhere. One side of her face was discolored, her eye swollen, her lip stitched where she’d bitten through it.
“Corinne?” he whispered.
She opened her eyes.
“What were you doing in that truck? Why did you go with him?”
Corinne pursed her lips and tried to sit up.
“No, lie down. I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, we can wait till later. I was just wondering why you didn’t call me. I could have taken care of it.”
“There wasn’t time, Toby He was taking off and I didn’t know how to stop him. I just climbed in the cab, hoping I could talk some sense into him. It was a stupid thing to do, but I couldn’t think of anything else. I tried to stop him, but he was stronger than me.” Her voice rasped with exhaustion.
Toby cleared his throat and looked at the floor. “He hurt you,” he said finally, quietly.
“No, I’m okay.”
Toby reached out and touched the bandage over her eye lightly. She flinched.
“You should have called me the moment he showed up. He was drunk. You should have called me. I should have been there to help you.”
“Toby, I told you, there wasn’t time. You can’t be everywhere at once—”
“Dammit, Corinne!” He sprang from his chair, knocking it backward. “Don’t lay there all bruised and battered and tell me there’s nothing I could have done.” He paced the room, tight with rage “Look at you! Beat up and bleeding. You could have died! You could have died, Corinne Again. And again, there was nothing I could do to stop it. You shut me out, you keep me at a distance when all I want to do is keep you safe.”
Corinne watched him pace the floor, his fists clenched and his jaw tight. She held out a hand. “Toby,” she whispered.
He swallowed and took her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The eyes that met hers were red-rimmed, bloodshot.
He shook his head. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I know.”
“It’s not the easiest thing, you know, watching you get knocked around all the time.”
She smiled weakly at him. “I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
He edged down onto the bed beside her and pulled her gingerly into his lap. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Can you really go home tomorrow?”
She nodded against his chest. “The doctor looked at the X rays and said I could probably check out in the morning.”
The door squeaked open. Dan Buchanan poked his head around the corner.
Corinne gestured for him to come in. Dan entered the room slowly, followed by his wife, Belinda.
Dan cleared his throat. “I wanted you to know, they had to—” He cleared his throat again. “They had to cut off Carl’s leg. Just above the knee.”
“I’m so sorry,” Corinne said.
Dan nodded. “Yeah, well...” There didn’t seem to be a lot to say to that.
Belinda stepped up. “They said he would have died, if you hadn’t put that tourniquet on his leg. He lost a lot of blood. They didn’t think he was going to make it at first. You saved his life.”
Dan nodded. “That’s right. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Corinne said.
“Yes, we do,” Belinda insisted.
Dan nodded again. He looked a bit shell-shocked. Like Toby, they had probably spent the night in sleepless worry. “She’s right. We do.” Dan stood there awkwardly for a second. “I—I guess I should apologize, too.”
Belinda made a noise and turned away discreetly.
“I shouldn’t have—” He shook his head. “It’s amazing, you know, how your priorities can change in the blink of an eye. That doctor told us they were taking him into surgery, but they didn’t seem very hopeful that they’d be bringing him out. Those were the longest hours of my life, I tell you. All of a sudden, it didn’t matter about football or college or anything else. All that mattered was that I got to talk to my boy again.”
“Is he awake yet?” Toby asked.
Dan shook his head. “We saw him in recovery, but he didn’t really know we were there. Anyway, Toby, Miss Maxwell, I know I was probably unfair to you—well, no probably about it, I was out of line. That whole mess with the football team and the drinking and everything. I never thought it would come to this.”
Toby and Corinne exchanged a look, and Belinda faced Dan with her brows raised. “Well, yeah, I guess I should have known. You tried to tell me. I just had it in my head that boys will be boys and as long as there was no harm done... But now there is harm done. A lot of it.”
Corinne braced herself on the pillows and raised up. “Mr. Buchanan, I believe Carl has the idea that if he can’t play football, he doesn’t have a future. He thinks that’s all he’s good at.”
Dan studied the floor. “Yeah, I guess he probably got that idea from me. I get a little carried away when it comes to football.”
Corinne gave him a sympathetic smile. Despite all the trouble he’d caused her, she felt sorry for the man. “He’s going to need your encouragement and support now more than ever to help him find his way.”
Dan rubbed his jaw. “I’m just grateful I’m being given a second chance. If I can just take him home, I won’t ever be—” His voice broke and he looked away. He swallowed thickly and rubbed the bridge of his nose fiercely
.
Belinda put a hand on his arm and started to lead him away. “We just wanted you to know, Miss Maxwell. And to thank you.”
Dan stopped and turned back to them. “Listen, all that nonsense about you not getting reelected next year, Haskell, that was just...”
Toby stood and put his hand out to shake Dan’s. “That’s water under the bridge, Dan.”
“No, this needs to be said. I was wrong and I apologize. Believe me, I’ve been making deals with God all night, promising everything I could think of if he’d just let me keep my boy. And I intend to follow through with every one of them. And don’t worry about the election. You have my support. As much noise as I made against you, I’ll double that in your favor. And you, too, Miss Maxwell. I know you don’t want to stay in Aloma, but if there’s anything I can ever do for you, you just let me know.”
“There are a few things you can do First, get Carl some help for his drinking.”
Dan nodded again and Belinda said emphatically, “We will ”
“And second, let him know what you just told us That he matters to you more than football does.”
“Don’t worry,” Dan said as they were walking out the door. “I intend to, every hour of every day. Until he gets sick of hearing it.”
Corinne forced Toby to go home and get some rest a few hours later. He was so tired, he couldn’t think straight. He was drifting off to sleep when he remembered Mr. Davis.
Between the episode with Jeremy last night, and then the accident with Corinne, Mr. Davis hadn’t crossed his mind. But Toby found that once he remembered, he couldn’t go to sleep. His mother and one of her friends who was also a nurse took turns spending the night at Mr. D.’s, but still Toby usually made sure the older man was squared away before going to Corinne’s at night, and then checking again first thing in the morning.
He looked at the alarm clock by his head. Two-thirty in the afternoon. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he’d last visited Mr. D. He groaned and closed his eyes. His body felt as if it had been clenched tight with fear for hours on end.