Adam's Promise

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “Rats.” Adam’s father slammed his fist on the table beside his chair and sent the lamp teetering before it settled in place. “What are they doing?”

  “Frank,” Liza Montgomery said to her husband, her voice calm and hushed, “be patient.”

  “Patient! I’ve been more than patient. I don’t understand what’s keeping them.” He rose, unfolding his tall, stocky frame, and paced in front of them.

  Kate scrutinized the Montgomerys and wondered if she should infringe on their privacy. Her nurse’s persona took over, and she leaned forward. “Adam has internal bleeding, Mr. Montgomery. That may take time to repair…depending on where they find the problem and how extensive the damage is.”

  She glanced at her watch again, realizing only a minute had passed since she’d last looked. “The doctor should be in soon, I’m sure.”

  Frank ran his thick hand through his bushy white hair and gazed at her with vivid blue eyes canopied by shaggy white brows.

  His eyes unnerved her; they were the same shade of blue as Adam’s.

  He gave her a subdued nod, then settled back into the chair and folded his hands in front of him while he stared at the floor.

  Kate wondered if he were praying. Though he was arrogant as a peacock, Adam, she knew, was a Christian. Kate guessed his father was, too.

  “So tell us about yourself, Katherine,” Liza said, gazing at her with amazing green eyes and a kindly smile.

  Kate froze at the suggestion. Talking about herself fell somewhere in her list of favorite activities between cleaning the toilet and scrubbing out the trash cans.

  “Not much to tell,” she said, hoping to dissuade the woman without being rude.

  “Tell us about your work at Doctors Without Borders. Adam tells us so little.”

  Kate relaxed. She could talk about the clinic. “It’s challenging. We deal with poverty, primitive conditions and a language barrier. We all speak a little Spanish—very little in some cases.” She gave them a halfhearted grin, the first she’d displayed in many hours. “But despite the problems, we feel blessed to provide care to people who would have none if we weren’t there.”

  Liza shifted her rounded frame to face Kate more directly while she pushed back a graying blond curl from her rosy cheek. “I’m sure it’s rewarding, and you’re serving people just as our dear Lord has told us to do.”

  “Yes. We’re making a difference,” Kate agreed, filling the time by sharing stories of their living facilities, the patients they’d treated, the long hours they worked. “But it’s beautiful, too,” Kate said. “In spring the trumpet trees blossom with flowers. Mauve, rose, white. So lovely. The coconut palms get heavy with fruit. And the lagoon with the thick mangrove islands. And birds of every color. It glorifies the Lord’s handiwork.”

  Liza’s smile brightened. “You’re a Christian.”

  “Yes. My mother depended on the Lord to get us through…” Kate let the words slide. “Get us through” was more than Kate meant to share about the past. Without prayer and God’s presence, her childhood would have been devastating.

  “Does your mother live nearby?”

  Kate tried to cover her sadness. “No, she died of cancer when I was eighteen.”

  Liza’s face skewed with sympathy. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.”

  “That was fifteen years ago. I’ve learned to accept it. I like to think God has a purpose for everything.” Her words sounded correct, but so often Kate wished her mother had lived so today she could provide her mother with the home and security she’d never had.

  “You’re so right. And she must have been a wonderful mother to give you such a good upbringing…and look at you. You’re a nurse. I’m sure she would be proud.”

  Kate gave her a nod. “Yes, she would have been. I wish she knew.”

  “Perhaps she does, dear. We just never know.”

  Frank’s patience had reached its limit. He bounded from the chair and strutted across the room to the volunteer’s desk. Kate watched him pointing to his watch and to the telephone. She was sure the poor woman felt intimidated. He was a powerful, impressive man, and being the mayor of Colorado Springs, he was a man who expected action. Today he wasn’t getting it.

  The attendant held firm, and soon Adam’s father turned away, grabbed a cup of coffee from the dispenser and carried it back to the chair. “Anyone want any of this stuff? It’s so strong, it could stand alone without a cup.”

  Kate could attest to that. The acrid smell drifted toward her and curdled her stomach. She shook her head.

  Liza sent him a “No, thank you,” then leaned closer to Kate. “Frank has no patience. I wish he could learn that not everyone jumps at his bidding.”

  Kate only smiled.

  “I volunteer here, and I always feel badly for folks who have to wait so long for their loved ones,” Liza said.

  “You’re a volunteer at Vance Memorial?”

  “Yes. I’m usually at the front information desk, but I fill in where needed. Like I said, God wants us to do for others. Since I’m not a nurse or a doctor like Adam, I help in this way.”

  “What a lovely thing to do,” Kate said. She knew many rich women would spend their time at a country club or garden club meeting…all kinds of social soirées, but here was a woman who did something for others.

  “I sit on the board of the Galilee Women’s Shelter, too. We do fund-raisers for the facility, help out however we can.”

  Kate’s throat tightened, and she swallowed the emotion that strangled her. “Such a worthy cause. That must be very fulfilling.”

  “Indeed. It’s sad to learn how many women—sometimes even children—pass through its doors.”

  “I can imagine,” Kate said, holding back the feelings that continued to swell inside her. “I’m familiar with that center and its work. I’ve always admired the people who make it an option for women.”

  Liza’s gaze searched hers, as if trying to read into her comment, sending a queasy feeling to Kate’s stomach.

  “Our big fund-raiser is coming up in a few months,” Liza said.

  Kate breathed a relieved sigh. She was grateful Liza hadn’t probed about her personal life.

  “Fund-raisers require much work. We always need volunteers, and it takes many hours to make it happen.”

  “I can imagine,” Kate said, letting her ramble on while Kate nodded and smiled, but her mind was on Adam. She knew his parents were worried, too. While his father ranted and raved, Adam’s mother seemed to use chatter to ease her stress.

  A surgeon finally came through the doorway, paused a moment, then headed in their direction. “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?”

  Frank and Liza rose like soldiers snapping to attention when brass appeared. “How is he?” they asked in unison.

  The surgeon’s tired eyes studied their faces as if holding back something.

  No. Not Adam. Kate’s heart jolted as anxiety reared like an angry stallion. Kate held her breath.

  Chapter Three

  Kate’s limbs quaked waiting for the surgeon to break the silence. She was concerned that Gordon Reese hadn’t come to speak with the Montgomerys. He’d performed the surgery.

  “Your son is in recovery, then he’ll be moved to ICU. The bullet entered below the fifth intercostal space, traversed his diaphragm and punctured his stomach. We were able to stop the bleeding and make the repair.”

  “Why didn’t they know that in Venezuela?” Frank said, his voice rising in volume.

  “If he’d been conscious, Dr. Reese would have realized earlier, but the concussion masked the additional problem. If your son had been alert, he would have experienced abdominal pain. Remember, he’d already suffered a collapsed lung. Dr. Reese inserted a chest tube that saved his life.”

  Liza grasped Frank’s arm, hearing the surgeon’s words. For Kate, the reminder was more than she wanted.

  “Let’s be grateful the team spotted the next problem early,” the doctor said. “They notified the hospital and we
were ready when they arrived.”

  Liza looked at the surgeon with pleading eyes. “Will he…will my son…?” Her voice quivered and she clutched her hands against her chest as if in prayer.

  “He’s critical…but that’s to be expected. We’ll know for sure in a couple of days, but for now, I’d say he’s doing better than we could hope for. He was in good health before the accident, and I’m confident he’ll pull through this.”

  Accident? Kate wanted to explain it wasn’t an accident but a horrible crime. She clamped her lips and swallowed the words. Explaining wasn’t her place. She was Adam’s co-worker. Nothing more.

  “I thought Dr. Reese performed the surgery,” Kate said.

  “We operated together. Gordon is exhausted. That’s why I came to talk with you.”

  “I was on the plane with him. I know he’s worn-out.”

  Kate was tired, too. Her thoughts soared back to the dispensary in Venezuela. She could see the blood seeping from Adam’s chest. She recalled the fear and anguish she felt seeing the handsome man slumped on the floor, seemingly lifeless. She blocked the ghastly vision.

  “Is he conscious now? When can we see him?” Frank asked.

  “They’ll let you know when you can go in,” the surgeon said, looking at Frank, then Liza. “Visiting will be limited until he’s in a regular room.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Liza said. Frank grasped his hand with a firm shake.

  The surgeon stepped away. The Montgomerys seemed to relax and settled into their seats.

  Kate’s heart ached but she managed to contain her concern. Adam hadn’t regained consciousness throughout the ordeal, and Kate knew what that meant. She leaned back, hoping to conceal her worry.

  “What in the good earth is an intercoastal space?” Frank asked, looking at Kate. “It’s all a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.”

  “Intercostal space,” Kate corrected. “It’s the space between the fifth and sixth rib. The bullet went through the chest and exited Adam’s back. The damage could have been much worse. We should be very grateful.” She realized too late she’d used the word we.

  “Yes, indeed,” Liza said, her gaze searching Kate’s face as if mulling over what she’d said. She shifted her gaze toward her husband. “We should be on our knees thanking God and not complaining, Frank.”

  Before any more was said, the ICU nurse arrived and beckoned his parents to follow.

  Kate relaxed and watched them vanish through the doorway. She longed to be with them to see for herself that Adam was all right. She knew the physical signs and understood the monitor readings.

  Her mind relived the fear she’d felt that day—the gunshots, her confusion, the dizzy fear that weakened her limbs, the panic she’d felt the moment she saw Adam bleeding on the floor. At that moment, she hadn’t had time to think about the why and who. She’d only had time to put pressure on the wound and do what she could to avoid shock from setting in.

  But later, on the plane, she’d run the day over in her mind. Who would do this? Someone who’d been there, someone who knew where supplies were stored? Carmen? Señor Garcia? He’d been Adam’s last appointment, and he had a drug problem as well as alcohol. Everyone knew that. Her thoughts had struck a dead end, just as her life had seemed to now.

  Instead of brooding, she rose and stretched her arms, trying to relieve the tension that knotted down her spine. She walked to the window and looked outside. The late-afternoon sun pressed against the pane, sending its heat through the glass. Kate looked beyond the familiar parking lot to the highway.

  The shock of the past few days washed over her like icy water. Her whole life had changed in a few dreadful moments in Venezuela. She’d set her course and prepared for the dramatic move to Doctors Without Borders, subleased her apartment and sold her clunker in hopes of buying a new car when she returned from her year’s stint there.

  So here she was now. No place to live. No car. No plans until she talked with the nursing director to see what they could do for her. Still, at the moment, all she wanted to do was see Adam, then sleep. She’d been without sleep for nearly two days. Her body trembled with fatigue and stress.

  “Katherine.”

  Kate lifted her head and saw Mrs. Montgomery approaching her.

  “I’m sure you’d like to go in for a few minutes. Please go ahead. Frank is down getting us all some fresh coffee.”

  Kate stood as Liza reached her. The woman grasped her fingers, her eyes dewy with tears.

  “He looks a bit better,” she said. “He has a little color in his cheeks. He…” Her voice faded and she covered her face with her hands.

  Kate longed to wrap her arms around the gentle woman, to give her comfort, something that would ease her anxiety. But something held her back. “He’ll be fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve prayed incessantly since this happened.”

  Liza drew a shuddered breath and lifted her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry for crying. Adam’s our oldest. I can’t imagine—”

  “It’s natural to cry and worry. I’ve done the same, and he’s just my colleague. My friend.” He was her friend in a strange sense. Despite his frequent uppity attitude, they’d lived in the same compound for the past months, shared the same food, laughed at the same jokes, struggled with the same crises. If that wasn’t friendship, she didn’t know what was. And if Kate were truthful, her heart had taken a strange turn when it came to Adam—a turn she hated to admit.

  “You go ahead, dear,” Liza said, wiping her eyes with a pink lace-edged handkerchief. “I’ll be fine. Frank will be here in a moment.”

  Kate gave the woman’s arm a squeeze, her own heart skipping with anticipation, and then she headed through the doorway and down the short corridor.

  She pushed the large button on the wall, and the ICU door swished open. She moved past the monitors flashing the vital signs and data and entered the room, peering into cubicles until she saw him.

  Kate froze, witnessing the strong, opinionated man, now unconscious. She preferred his attitude rather than seeing him like this. His face looked pale and unexpressive. Where was the color Liza had mentioned?

  “Adam.” She neared his bed and stood beside his head, looking for a flicker of eyelashes or some sign of awareness.

  She saw none.

  “I miss your know-it-all comments, Adam. You’re not going to let a little bullet in the chest keep you down, are you?”

  Kate moved her fingers forward and brushed one against his cheek. She’d never touched Adam so intimately until the day he had lain sprawled on the dispensary floor when she felt the prickle of whiskers on his cheek, whiskers now more pronounced.

  The image sent a chill through her, and her heart pounded with angry thumps before settling down to a steady rhythm.

  “Do you hear me, Adam? Come on. Wake up and give me some of your lip.” Lip. She eyed his well-formed mouth, recalling an occasional smile that lit his face…usually when he riled her. He seemed to enjoy setting her on edge.

  Her gaze slid down the sheet, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest aided by a flow of oxygen. His hands lay limp at his sides, and she couldn’t resist raising one and giving it a squeeze, but she resisted the desire to draw it to her lips and kiss his talented fingers—fingers that held surgical instruments and changed lives.

  As she returned his hand to his side, Kate leaned closer to his ear. “Adam. Where’s your spirit? Where’s your irritating arrogance? Wake up and let me see those lovely blue eyes.”

  She pulled back, almost fearing he would open them, having heard her confession.

  He didn’t.

  Hearing the steady sizzle of oxygen and the beeps from the equipment behind her, Kate stood a moment, gazing at the powerful man now in God’s hands.

  “Father, be with him,” she whispered. “Give him strength and healing so he can return to his lifesaving work…and, Lord, give me direction. I’m lost right now. I don’t know what will happen or where I’ll go. Give me courage. In Jesus’ prec
ious name. Amen.”

  Her gaze swept over Adam’s silent form, then feeling helpless, she turned and left the room. She pushed the button and walked into the corridor on wobbly legs.

  From the waiting room doorway, she could see two others had joined the Montgomerys—a man about Adam’s height with dark blond hair and a woman with blond hair cut in a short, spunky style. From a distance, she could have been a young boy dressed in jeans and a knit shirt, but her shapely figure gave her away.

  Kate hesitated joining them and lingered at the threshold until Liza’s voice greeted her.

  “Katherine, come meet our children, and—” she lifted a cardboard cup in the air “—have your coffee while it’s hot.”

  With her urging, Kate came forward, wondering what kind of impression she would make on these two people. She knew she looked awful with no sleep and no shower.

  “Katherine Darling, this is our son, Jake, Adam’s younger brother, and our daughter, Colleen. She’s the baby of the family.” She smiled at Kate, then shifted her gaze to her children.

  “Call me Kate,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Katherine’s with Doctors Without Borders,” Liza said. “She’s the one who found Adam after he’d been shot.”

  “So you’re the one,” Jake said, taking her hand in his. “Thank you.”

  Kate saw the same blue eyes again. Looking at Colleen, she realized all of the children had their father’s eyes. “You’re welcome, but please don’t thank me. It’s all a blur. The experience unraveled me.”

  “I’ve never known Adam to ever be ill,” Colleen said. “Growing up with two older brothers, I had to learn to fend for myself. I can’t picture Adam like this. Not at all.” She ran slender fingers through her thatch of hair.

  Kate could envision Colleen joining in her brother’s fray. She looked as if the rough-and-tumble had rubbed off on her. Not that she wasn’t attractive, but she had a spirited way about her.

  “I suppose we should get it over with,” Colleen said to her brother, giving him a playful punch in the arm. “Standing here is making the waiting worse.”