Indigo
An imprint of Genesis Press, Inc.
Publishing Company
Genesis Press, Inc.
P.O. Box 101
Columbus, MS 39703
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, not known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission of the publisher, Genesis Press, Inc. For information write Genesis Press, Inc., P.O. Box 101, Columbus, MS 39703.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all incidents are pure invention.
Copyright© 2012 Mildred Riley
ISBN-13: 978-1-58571-648-7
ISBN-10: 1-58571-648-0
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition
Visit us at www.genesis-press.com or call at 1-888-Indigo-1-4-0
PROLOGUE
The day that Dina Raines graduated from high school was one that she would never forget, for more than one reason.
As soon as she and her grandmother returned home from where they’d celebrated, she ran upstairs to her room.
“Goin’ to change, Gram, be right back down. Have to get out of this white dress.”
“Okay, hon, take your time.”
Emily Raines had been dreading this day for the past two years, but the time had come for Claudine Raines, her beloved Dina, to learn the truth.
Dina raced back down to the living room. She was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt.
“Feel better?” her grandmother asked.
“Much better.”
Dina loved her grandmother’s small ranch house. She had her own bedroom, and thus privacy when she needed it. Her grandparent never intruded, telling Dina, “It’s your life to live.”
Emily Raines was in her seventy-fifth year, and although her hair was now white, her cinnamon skin was unlined. On meeting her, people would declare that she looked to be in her late fifties.
She would chuckle, saying, “Thank you for your kind words, but my body tells me differently.”
Emily Raines had always believed that there was no good way to deliver unsettling news. Straight out with it was the only way.
She was extremely proud of Dina. Not only had she graduated as valedictorian, she had been accepted at Boston University’s School of Nursing. She had also been accepted as a volunteer aid at the local hospital, and had signed up to tutor middle school students enrolled in summer school.
“Dina,” she said, knowing that she could no longer keep this very important information from her eighteen-year-old grandchild.
“Yes, Gram?”
“My child, this has been a glorious day for you and me, but there is something you should know….”
Seeing the serious, closed-in look on her grandmother’s face, Dina sensed that what she was about to hear was extremely important.
“What is it, Gram?”
“Arla and Dennis were not your parents.”
Wide-eyed, disbelieving, Dina almost choked. “Not my parents? What are you talking ’bout?”
“They were not your biological parents, but they adopted you legally when you were two months old, and you became my granddaughter.”
“I don’t understand.…”
“I know it’s hard, but I have all the documents here in this envelope.”
She pointed to a large brown envelope in her lap. She reached for Dina’s hand.
“Here’s what happened, hon. It’s all in here.” She tapped the envelope. “Your mother was Graciana Murray. She was Arla’s younger sister. She was nineteen when she and your father, Henry Lawrence, got married. From what Arla told me later, they were very much in love, were thrilled when you were born. But everything went downhill when Graciana died. Swine flu, I think it was. Anyway, your father, Henry Lawrence, took you to Arla and Dennis, begged them to adopt you, which they did. They were childless and welcomed you into their hearts and home. They never saw Henry Lawrence again.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“So he could be dead, too.” Dina’s voice quavered. “Four parents, all dead! And,” her eyes widened, “that means you’re not my real Gram!”
Emily Raines pulled the now sobbing girl into her arms.
“Yes, I am your Gram, don’t see any other grandmother around here! You were legally adopted, so you are legally my granddaughter, and don’t you forget it!”
Sniffing, tears welling in her eyes, Dina clung to her grandmother.
Emily said nothing, merely held the distressed, sobbing Dina in her arms.
Suddenly, Dina stared into her grandmother’s eyes.
“I’ve got to find him,” she said.
“Find who?”
“Henry Lawrence, that’s who! I’m going to be somebody one day, and then he’ll see who he gave away!”
“Look, hon, I don’t want you to be bitter. The past is just that, the past. You may not always be able to understand another person’s motivation for what they do, or don’t do, but as I’ve always told you, it’s your life.”
CHAPTER ONE
Drew Tyler brushed his dark dreadlocks back from his sweaty forehead. Wearing his favorite outfit, cutoff shorts and a well-worn t-shirt, and leaning over his kitchen table, he reached for his cup of coffee, still hot, the way he liked it. This was his third cup, but he knew he definitely needed this jolt of caffeine.
His body was bruised and sore from Sunday’s football game. The hours he’d spent in the whirlpool had helped some. It had been a hard-fought game against the Washington Capitols, a well-earned victory.
A wide receiver for the Boston Anchors, a franchise so-named because Boston is a major seaport, Drew had caught five passes from the team’s quarterback, Charlie Freeman, resulting in five touchdowns and the coveted league title.
It was just after the final score when Drew spotted the beautiful young woman in the end zone seats. She seemed focused on him and watched, fascinated, as he impulsively threw the ball to the young red-haired boy sitting beside her.
Drew was rewarded with a wide, happy grin on the lad’s face as he clutched the precious gift to his chest. The lovely young woman gave the boy a high five. Then Drew realized he had been holding his breath. Talk about ‘some enchanted evening’! He had to meet her…but how?
CHAPTER TWO
Dina Raines knew it would not be a good idea to be late for her appointment with Dr. Sumner Ralston, the director of Waverly Estates. He was a stickler for promptness from his staff.
Earlier that day she had been called into her supervisor’s office. She had thought she was doing well as the head nurse in charge of an admissions unit at Waverly Estates, a private psychiatric facility that treated teenagers, most of whom had wealthy parents. Already a registered nurse with a master’s degree in nursing, she hoped to attain a Ph.D. in nursing. She loved nursing, wanted to teach.
She had lost her parents when she was sixteen, both killed by a drunk driver. Her only living relative was her paternal grandmother, Emily Raines, who took the bewildered teen to Connecticut to live with her.
Emily Raines was a tiny, small-boned woman with cinnamon-burnished skin, whose high cheekbones spoke volumes about her Native American ancestry. Her hair was a silken silver white, worn softly around her smooth, unlined face.
Despite the tragic loss of her only son and his wife, she was determined to do her best for her grandchild.
“First, we’ve got to enroll you in high school. Since this is a small farming town, there is no high school here. But not to worry,” she told Dina, “we have a private prep school here in town, been here for years, and the town pays tuition for townies who want to go there.”
“I can go to a private school, Gram?”
“Don’t see why not. Been payin’ taxes for over fifty years in this town.”
“Did Dad go to this school?”
“Sure did! One of the best football players they ever had. When you get there you’ll see his picture right up there in the front lobby of the school. He’d be proud to have his child attend his alma mater. Don’t worry, Dina, you’re going to do great!”
“I hope so. I’m not sure…a new school, everyone will be looking at me, checking me out,” Dina fretted, frowning at the thought.
“Are you kidding me? They’ll be so glad to meet someone from Boston, they’ll be all around you like bees around honey,” her grandmother insisted.
Though unsure about her grandmother’s philosophy, Dina did not protest, thinking that her Gram had been sustained all these years by simple values. One bit of guidance that Dina heard often was meant, she knew, to help her deal with her loss. “Yesterday’s gone, tomorrow’s not here yet, so you better make the most of today.” Another one of Emily Raines’ favorite sayings was from a famous baseball player: “Don’t look back! Something might be gainin’ on you.”
Dina adjusted well at the small prep school in the town of Springdale, situated near the Connecticut River.
After she had settled in, she told her grandmother, “Gram, I think I want to be a nurse.”
“Got no problem with that! You’d be good at that, if it’s truly what you want to do,” her grandmother said encouragingly.
* * *
Walking up the stairs of the administration building, Dina thought back to the many years of her now-deceased grandmother’s support. The insurance policies from her parents and grandmother had helped finance both her undergraduate work and her master’s degree, but her ultimate goal was to obtain a doctorate in nursing.
Would this ‘new’ assignment bring a higher salary and enable her to pursue that goal?
As she stepped into the lobby, she thought again of Gram, how much she owed the woman who had been her life support during those tumultuous years. The words Gram spoke so often rang in her ears: “All will be well if you trust in God.”
When she presented herself, Dr. Ralston’s secretary gave Dina a bright smile.
“He’s expecting you.” She said into the intercom, “Miss Raines is here, Dr. Ralston.” Still smiling, she pointed to the door behind her. “You may go right in.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. Good luck.”
As soon as Dina opened the door, the doctor rose from his desk, his hand outstretched for a welcoming handshake.
“Come in, come in, Miss Raines. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, sir.”
“Eager to know why I’ve summoned you, I suspect. Here, have a seat and I’ll tell you just what I have in mind.”
Sumner Ralston was a tall, rangy man with dark brown eyes and sandy colored hair. When he smiled at Dina, she noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled, which made her feel more at ease.
“May I get you something to drink?”
“Water, please. Thanks.”
“Of course.”
He reached into a small refrigerator at the bottom of his desk and handed her a chilled bottle of water and a paper cup.
“You can set it right on the table beside your chair. It won’t hurt the top. Ms. Raines, I’ve gone over your proficiency ratings and I find that you are not only a skilled professional, but you are also a gifted, perceptive nurse who really cares about her patients.”
“Thank you. I try to do my best for all of my patients.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Dr. Ralston observed the unhurried movements of the attractive woman of color as she uncapped the bottle of water, poured some into the paper cup, took a sip, capped the bottle, and waited for him to continue.
Her skin was a soft ivory tan, luminous with its glowing texture. She reminded him of the radiant beauty of the late Lena Horne. Dina’s hair was black, close cut, an attractive frame for her face. Her eyes were dark brown. She was slight, of average height, and dressed in gray slacks, a navy blazer, and a white silk blouse.
“Miss Raines,” he began, settling back in his chair, “there is a new treatment protocol I want to establish here at Waverly Estates. As head nurse of one of our admissions units, I’m certain that you have noticed the increasing number of teenagers we are admitting.”
He could see that this young woman was giving him her full attention. Her eyes never wavered from his face. She seemed eager to hear what he had to say.
“For some time now,” he told her, “I have been doing research, hoping to find a treatment modality to facilitate a viable therapy that will help our young patients. They are usually in a capricious, transient, unstable period in their lives, caught between childhood and adulthood. A very difficult time for many of them.”
He was pleased to see that Dina was nodding her head at his assessment of teenaged patients. He continued to explain his plans.
“During some of my research, I came across an article in one of the psych journals. There is an institution in the South, Tennessee, to be exact, that has had remarkable success with an unusual approach that has proven to be quite effective and therapeutic with teenagers. To me, it seems quite simple. I want to try it here at Waverly, and I need your help.”
* * *
As she left the doctor’s office, Dina wondered if she could handle this new assignment. Though she had an advanced nursing degree, there were other staff members with much more clinical experience than she had.
Anorexia nervosa, a hysteric aversion to food. She recalled the diagnosis, one that usually signaled a psychiatric illness. Dina knew that this diagnosis was found quite often in young women.
Her new assignment, a patient named Lynette James, was only fourteen. She had been a problem to her parents, Dorcas and Mansfield James, ever since reaching puberty. She was uncommunicative, rebellious, and her once nearly perfect grades had fallen drastically. There had been instances of Lynette running away from home, hanging out with the wrong crowd. Now, lately, she had been refusing to eat. A dire sign.
She headed for the bank of elevators that would take her to the basement level and the tunnel that provided access to all of the seven hospital buildings.
The adolescent building, Building Two, was a short distance from Building One, the administration building she had just left.
Walking through the well-lit tunnel, she began wondering what it was going to be like, this special assignment. She would be shouldering the whole responsibility for managing a patient’s care and treatment protocol. She would be working with a team of physicians, psychiatrists, social workers, and therapists, but she would make the final decisions.
She had been told by Dr. Ralston that the rationale behind this new policy was that nurses spent more ‘one-on-one’ time with a patient. Though there would be consultations from other team members, the final decisions for patient care would rest with the nurse leader.
Dina fingered the notebook in her jacket pocket. She had already made a decision. Having read Lynette James’ history, she determined it would remain just that…history.
She planned to tell her patient that together they would start a clean slate.
“It’s a brand new day. Today we start to get to know one another,” she would say to the young patient.
Dina had another worry. Lynette had been hospitalized for only two days, but according to what she had learned, the patient’s mother, Dorcas James, would be visiting her daughter this very day.
Dina hurried along, hoping to have some time to get acquainted with her pat
ient before Mrs. James arrived. From the record, she had already discovered that Lynette was continuing to refuse food, taking only occasional sips of water.
Removing the cluster of hospital keys from her jacket pocket, she unlocked the door to the unit for new admissions and walked down the corridor to Lynette James’ private room.
CHAPTER THREE
Drew Tyler was handsome, with copper-toned skin black eyes framed by sleek, well-defined eyebrows. His was an open face, with a smile that enchanted all those who met him.
Six feet, four inches tall, he had a solid, sturdy body, but for a large man was extremely quick on his feet.
He had inherited his body from his father, Ross Tyler, who had played football in high school and college. His father was director of human resources for a computer company. Drew’s mother, Vanessa Tyler, was a high school foreign language teacher.
She was barely five feet tall, but her physical strength seemed limitless for one who seemed so fragile.
Drew often warned John, his younger brother, “Don’t mess with Mom! When she says, ‘jump,’ you better say ‘how high?’ Mom don’t play!”
Drew’s father was a football fanatic. He was delighted when his older son showed interest in the game. Carefully, he encouraged Drew, beginning in the early Pop Warner days, then all through junior high school, high school, and college. And after graduation, when Drew signed a contract with the Boston Anchors, Ross Tyler’s pride in his son was immeasurable.
Drew had never forgotten his conversation with his father the first day of high school football practice. It was after supper. His mother was cleaning up in the kitchen, and his brother was up in his room. Drew and his dad were out on the back deck. A crisp fall evening made it quite comfortable. Both treasured these moments together. Each relaxed in a familiar comfort zone.
“Dad,” Drew asked, “did you always like to play football? Even as a kid?”
“I did. I think it was the challenge that appealed to me. I wanted to prove to myself that I was as good as any one of the boys in the neighborhood.”
“Were some of them older?”
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