The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  “Your dad got off lucky. Somehow that one rib broke away from the chest wall, punctured the lung, and sprang back into place after the blunt trauma. Because the lung was punctured twice, I believe your dad was butted two times. The rib is still disconnected, but I hope the healing tissue and muscles will slowly reconnect it.”

  “How could only one rib get broken clean in two?” Caleb asked shakily. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

  The surgeon grinned. “You should become a doctor, because you’re absolutely right. It’s an anomaly. This is only my guess, but your dad’s chest above the broken ribs is severely bruised, so I think the bull butted him at a slight angle, hitting the upper chest with its forehead and the ribs with its nose, striking with more force on that upper rib than the ones below it. It’s the only explanation I can come up with.”

  “Can you fix the disconnected one?” Caleb asked in a thin voice. “If it just dangles in there, it might poke more holes in him.”

  “In some cases we will go in and repair the ribs with a metal plate, but in your dad’s case we prefer to track it with imagery. Sometimes the rib will realign itself and heal, and I think your dad’s may do that. In the meanwhile, we’ll administer good pain management and supplementary oxygen to make it less painful for him to breathe. We’ll also use pulmonary toilet treatments. That sounds pretty awful. A better term might be pulmonary hygiene. That means keeping fluid and mucus off the lungs. We can do that with breathing treatments and by raising the foot of his bed.”

  The physician stood up and smiled. “I believe the prognosis is good. He’s young and strong. He’s also in the hands of very concerned and talented caregivers who will watch him around the clock.” He glanced at Maddie. “After seeing him, you should go home. Walking the halls and sleeping in chairs will exhaust you, and tomorrow he may be awake and wanting to see you.” His cheek creased in another smile. “I know you’ll probably decide to stay. If you do, ask a nurse for pillows and blankets so you can be halfway comfortable.”

  After the surgeon walked away, Caleb dissolved into tears. Maddie, recovered now from the footrace in the hospital hallways, gathered him into her arms. He’d soon soaked the shoulder of her top. It broke her heart to feel his body jerk with each sob.

  “Now, now,” she murmured. “You heard the doctor. Your father is going to be fine.”

  “Maybe paralyzed, Gram. He’ll never be fine if he can’t walk.”

  Maddie mustered her strength and refused to cry with her grandson. “Don’t be silly. People can walk with one paralyzed leg. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The doctor said the lack of response to stimuli could be due to swelling. He was thrown against thick fence rails. I’m betting that his back is pretty swollen and feeling will return to his leg as soon as the swelling goes down.”

  Maddie didn’t believe a word she was saying, but she had to be upbeat for Caleb’s sake. He needed to feel optimistic.

  “Oh, Gram. I love him so much. He’s the best dad ever. I wish I could go in there and fix him.”

  “So do I, sweetie, but we’ll have to leave that to the doctor.”

  Just then a nurse came into the waiting area. “The surgeon says Mr. McLendon can have visitors now.” She held up a finger. “One visitor per hour for only ten minutes, and the person must be an immediate family member. He’s still asleep, so please don’t wake him. Who would like to go in first?”

  Maddie gave Caleb a nudge. “You go. I know he’d like it if you came first. I can go next time.”

  As the boy walked away, Maddie sent up a silent prayer that Caleb would feel better after seeing his father.

  “That was good of you, Maddie,” Kirstin said. “I know you’re dying to see him yourself.”

  “I’m sure you are, too,” Maddie replied. “I’ll see to it that you get your turn.”

  “I’m not a family member,” Kirstin said.

  “I guess I know better than a nurse who’s related to him and who isn’t.” Maddie forced a smile. “You’ll have your turn.”

  Sam shifted in his chair and crossed his ankles. When Maddie glanced at him, he looked relaxed, but she sensed that he was unaccustomed to sitting and doing nothing. Unlike her, he was active all day. She went for walks on her good days, but it was difficult to find enough exercise time to make up for the hours of inactivity when she was behind a keyboard.

  As if he heard her thoughts, he said, “I detest hospitals. When my wife was dying, this place became my second home.”

  Maddie could relate. How many hours had she spent in hospitals while Graham lost his battle with cancer? “I hate hospitals, too. Unfortunately they’re a necessary evil.”

  The conversation, if it could be called that, ended there. She had a feeling that Sam could be a man of few words.

  The ten minutes that Caleb was gone seemed like a small eternity, every second dragging by. When he finally emerged from the bowels of the ICU, he looked calm and more hopeful. Maddie’s taut muscles relaxed as he walked toward them.

  “He’s sleeping good,” the youth said. “And his breathing is even. Except for his back, I think he’s going to be okay. It’s scary to see him, though, Gram. He’s got a needle in the back of his hand with a bag of stuff dripping into him. And he’s on oxygen. He’s really pale, too.”

  Striving to keep her voice steady, Maddie said, “Well, of course he’s pale. He’s been through an ordeal.”

  Caleb sat next to Sam. Within seconds the boy was tapping his toe on the floor. Then he started popping his knuckles.

  “Keep doing that,” Sam said, “and you’ll have arthritis when you get to be my age.”

  Caleb looked at Sam as if he couldn’t imagine ever being that old. Maddie bit back a smile. Beside her Kirstin yawned and then sat straighter.

  “That pain shot is making me sleepy. I need to move around.” She pushed up on her crutches. “Something to drink sounds good. Does anybody know the way to the cafeteria?”

  Because Sam had just mentioned that St. Pat’s had become his second home during his wife’s decline, Maddie figured that Kirstin must have spent a good deal of time in this hospital as well. Surely she knew where the eatery was.

  Caleb jumped up. “I saw the signs. I can show you where it is.”

  Kirstin winked at him. “Lead the way.”

  As Maddie watched the unlikely pair go up the hallway, she mustered a smile. Caleb walked with exaggerated slowness while Kirstin hobbled along beside him. “She’s a sweet girl, Sam. She knew Caleb needed a distraction.” She glanced over at him. He had removed his hat and hung it over his bony knee again. Except for here in the hospital, she’d never seen him bareheaded. “It’s just my observation, but it appears to me that you did a fine job of raising her.”

  Sam held the brim of his hat to keep it on his knee while he crossed his ankles again. His boots, poking out from the legs of his jeans, were scuffed and dusty. She guessed that he’d started his day working on the ranch. “That was her mother’s doing. Ever since Annie died, I’ve botched the job.”

  Maddie glanced at her watch, thinking two things—that what remained of the hour before she could see her son would seem like forever and that Sam could say a lot with an economy of words. Silence settled between them. Normally Maddie felt a need to keep a conversation going, but she didn’t really like Sam well enough to bother with the effort. Thirty minutes passed without a word being exchanged between them. Maddie was watching the minute hand on her watch.

  Suddenly Sam asked, “What was his name?”

  Startled by the sudden question, Maddie gave him a curious look. “What was whose name?”

  “Your husband’s.”

  “Why do you want to know?” She was wary. If this man said a derogatory word about Graham, she’d come unglued. She was in no mood for more of his snarky comments.

  “He did a damned fine job of helping you ra
ise Cam. He’s a fabulous young fellow. I know your husband’s dead and gone. And maybe I’ll sound crazy, but I’m starting to think there’s some weird kind of link between this world and the next. Just in case I’m right, I’d like to know the man’s name so I can tell him his son is really something in my book.”

  Maddie could scarcely believe her ears. “Are we talking about the same randy little fucker you hate so much?”

  He scowled at her. “I thought you never used the F word.”

  “On special occasions that warrant it, I can curse right along with the best of them.”

  Watching him in profile, she saw one corner of his mouth twist up in a reluctant smile. “How long are you planning to rub my nose in it?”

  “I just started. You hated my son. Now you hold him in high regard. Why the change of heart?”

  “I saw it all, like I said. That damned bull would have killed my daughter. Cam ran interference, knowing when he did that he was putting his own bacon on the plate. He didn’t think about himself, only about her. Of course I hold the man in high regard.”

  Maddie smiled. She doubted that Sam often said a good word about anybody, and he’d just given Cam a rare compliment. “Graham.”

  “What?”

  “My husband’s name was Graham.”

  “Like the damned cracker? Who the hell would name their son something like that?”

  Maddie almost chuckled. The reaction was so typical of the Sam she’d come to know. With a start, she realized that the better she came to know him, the closer she came to liking him. “It’s a wonderful Scottish name for a boy.”

  “Your husband was a Scot?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be damned. Are you Scottish, too?”

  Maddie folded her arms. “No, I’m Irish. Mess with me too much, and you’ll find out how red my hair should have been.”

  He flicked her another halfhearted smile. “I should’ve known when I counted those damned no-trespassing signs. Don’t you think two hundred and thirty-nine was overkill?”

  “I don’t know. Compared to a brick wall, it’s not so crazy. If I went onto your property, what did you think I might do, anyway?”

  “Contaminate it?” He looked at her straight on, and his weathered face creased in so many places it looked like a road map. Regardless, Maddie noted that he was one handsome fellow when he actually smiled. “I didn’t want any hillbilly germs to rub off on my dirt.”

  Maddie stifled a laugh. “Go to hell, Sam Conacher.”

  He sighed and settled back in his chair. “I’m already there, Maddie. Have been for a long, long time.”

  “I lost the love of my life, too,” she told him. “You’re right. It’s hell.”

  “Annie meant the world to me. It’s been six years, and I still miss her with every breath I take.”

  “Oh, God. I was hoping I’d feel better after that long.”

  “It no longer hurts quite as much,” he admitted. “You get to thinking you’ve moved past it, because you don’t think of the person for a few hours. Then, bang, it blindsides you.” He released a long breath and fiddled with his hat. “She was my other half in every sense of the word, my guiding light, my adviser, and my comfort during the storms.”

  Maddie smiled sadly at her own, similar memories. “I don’t think everyone feels that way after losing a spouse. You and I were blessed to have found that kind of love.”

  Sam nodded and then wondered aloud, “Does anyone ever totally recover from the loss?”

  “I doubt it.” And the thought filled Maddie with dread, because she had to face an unknown number of years feeling pain. “All a person can do is keep moving forward.”

  Just then she realized the hour was up. “Oh! I can go in now and see Cam.”

  As Maddie made her way into the ICU, she braced herself after Caleb’s warning. Her body quivered as she stepped to her son’s bedside. He did look awfully pale. She checked the clock so she wouldn’t overstay her visit and then fixed her gaze on Cam. His golden brown hair lay in tousled waves over his forehead. The oxygen cannula had slipped slightly in his nostrils and canted to one side. She noticed that his nose was swollen and his lower lip was split, injuries that struck her as odd. If a bull had butted him in the face, surely the damage would have been worse.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to touch him for fear of disturbing his rest. He breathed evenly and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Those were good signs. Dear God, she prayed, don’t let him come through this partially paralyzed. Sam had described the bull’s attack, so she knew her son had been butted on the back and sent flying against thick fence rails. Could a man have sustained such severe blows without having spinal damage?

  Even as Maddie asked herself that question, she saw Cam’s right foot move. She released a taut breath. Had it been a nerve twitch? She desperately hoped not. She wanted her son to go home with the use of both legs.

  Chapter Ten

  Left in the waiting area alone, Sam sat forward on the chair, using his knees as an armrest as he stared at the floor. Poor Maddie, he thought. He couldn’t blame her for being so worried. Cam had taken some solid hits.

  It had been a long time since Sam prayed, but he did so now, sending up a silent plea that Cam McLendon would completely recover. He remembered how Cam had walked to his porch last night and faced him. He also recalled how the younger man wouldn’t get up and fight back after Sam busted him in the chops. When Sam died—and he hoped that didn’t happen soon—Kirstin would need a man who’d protect her with his life, and Cam had proven today that he would do that without thinking twice. Sam wasn’t a person who changed his mind easily, but he’d done a turnaround in his estimation of Cam McLendon. Sam hoped he would fully recover to stand at Kirstin’s side.

  Maddie emerged from the ICU. Sam took careful measure of her expression and thought she looked less drawn and sad. She resumed her seat beside him, sighed, and smiled slightly. “I saw his right foot move.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  She nodded. “It could have been a nerve twitch, I suppose. But it gave me hope that his back is okay.”

  Kirstin and Caleb returned from the cafeteria. The boy’s arms were filled with food cartons and a drink tray. “Lunch,” he said. “Kirstin paid for everything.”

  Maddie murmured a thank-you, and Sam, remembering his manners, followed suit. Caleb handed out sandwiches, small bags of chips, and soft drinks.

  As Kirstin unwrapped her BLT, she said, “You know, Maddie, you could go home. I plan to stay the night.”

  “Oh, no. Even if I left, I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”

  “Me, either,” Caleb said. “I don’t want to go home.”

  “Well, I have the only vehicle,” Sam inserted, “so I reckon I’ll hang out here, too.”

  Sam was secretly glad to have a reason to stay. He no longer wanted to be a badass, but a sudden about-face wasn’t easy, either. As soon as he’d finished eating, he walked up the hall to call Miguel and ask him to rustle up some help for the following day. Neither Kirstin nor Sam would be around to work, and the McLendons also had livestock and pets that needed care.

  “But, senor,” Miguel said, “how will I find anyone to help? No one wishes to work here anymore.”

  Sam’s heart sank, because he knew it was true. He had burned too many bridges over the last six years. His once-loyal friends avoided him now. He had hired and fired so many ranch hands that people no longer applied for work at the Conacher Ranch.

  With a sigh, Sam said, “Then just take care of the animals, Miguel, and let the rest slide.”

  He went on to speak with his manager about other concerns before returning to the ICU waiting area. Caleb had wolfed down his meal, and now, like a satisfied pup, he was nodding off to sleep. As Sam sat beside Maddie, he saw Kirstin draw the boy’s head down on her shoulder. Relaxed by the
pain shots the ambulance attendant and the ER doctor had given her, she soon fell asleep herself.

  “Well,” Sam said, “I think we’ll be keeping this vigil by ourselves.”

  Maddie looked up at him. “There’s no reason for you to stay. If we need to go somewhere, I can always hire a cab.”

  He stretched out his legs and set his hat on the empty seat beside him. “I’ve driven back and forth so much today that I’m not excited about doing it again.” He glanced at her uneaten sandwich, perched atop her purse, and the glass bottle she held. “Ginger tea? My wife drank that to settle her stomach while she was getting chemo treatments.”

  She shuddered. “God save me from that. I’ve just developed a taste for it.”

  Sam studied her face, remembering how exhausted she’d become while walking in the hallways. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  “Heavens, no.” As if she guessed that he was recalling her lack of endurance earlier, she added, “I just get winded easily these days. I chalk it up to age. I also feel off my mark sometimes.” She shrugged. “It may be something I eat every once in a while that disagrees with me. I feel nauseated and shaky.”

  “Are you feeling that way today?”

  “A little.”

  “That explains the ginger tea,” he noted. “It’s supposed to soothe the stomach. Maybe you should get a wellness check.”

  “I had a complete physical last spring.”

  • • •

  Growing uncomfortable with the conversation, Maddie was relieved to see that an hour had passed, allowing her to check on Cam again. She considered waking Kirstin to give her a turn, but the young woman looked so exhausted she decided to let her snooze. Cam looked much the same when she went in. She was disappointed not to see his right foot move again, but someone had straightened his cannula, and the monitors showed that his heart rate and blood pressure were normal.