by Home Fires
Minutes passed slowly. Worry gnawed at her in concert with fatigue.
“… just a friend.”
She jolted awake and glanced around, trying to get her bearings as she pushed herself to a sitting position. An older man in a white lab coat smiled at her. He occupied a chair identical to the one upon which Colt sat not fifteen inches from her couch.
“You must be Casie Carmichael,” he said.
“Yes.” Her voice was nothing more than a croak. She cleared her throat, wiped her knuckles across her lips, and wondered if she’d been drooling. Colt was staring at her. He was as wickedly handsome as ever, but his grin was noticeably absent. Fear crept up her spine.
“I’m Dr. Deacon.”
She nodded, still groggy, as she turned back toward the older man. “How’s Linette?”
He sobered a little, but the crow’s-feet remained around his eyes as if he was accustomed to smiling. “She sustained some pretty serious injuries to her right tibia, as I’m sure you know.”
She didn’t take time to tell him she knew nothing. “How serious?”
He tilted his head a little. “Compound fractures such as this one can be somewhat difficult. But Dr. Lucas is an excellent surgeon.”
“Compound …” She felt herself blanch. “That’s when the bone …” She swallowed but kept her focus directly on the good doctor. “That’s when the bone …” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“It’s when the bone pierces the skin. Yes, I’m afraid that’s the scenario we’re dealing with. But Dr. Lucas is very experienced with that sort of thing, and …” He smiled again. “I’m not exactly a first-year resident.”
She nodded. That’s when he reached for her hand, looked into her eyes. “Try not to worry,” he said. His eyes were a silvery blue. “She’s in surgery right now. Be assured we’re doing everything we can for her.”
She nodded again. He squeezed her hand and stood up.
She blinked and watched him walk away. It was no easy task to gather her wits, but she made a game effort as she faced Colt. “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.”
He stared at her, expression bland. “I’ll remember the cattle prod next time.”
She scowled and glanced at the doctor’s retreating back.
“Emily’s fine,” he said. “If you’re interested.”
She scowled at him. “Of course I’m interested. Where is she?”
He shrugged. “Probably flirting with an MD. What is it about you Lazy Windmill girls?”
“What are you talking about?”
He opened his mouth, but a woman in a skirt and heels had arrived with another battery of questions.
By the time yet another person finished interrogating her, Colt had left. He returned just as Casie was finishing up and bent to shove a white paper bag into her hand.
She glared at it. “What’s this?”
“Food.”
“I don’t need—”
“I know. You’re too tough to eat.”
“I never said—”
“Just eat the damned thing,” he said, voice peeved.
“Listen,” she began. If anyone had the right to be irritable she was pretty sure she had dibs, but just then a dark-haired nurse stepped into the room. She was young and attractive, her smile effervescent.
Colt glanced up at her.
“She’s at four,” she said, leaning around the corner.
“Thanks, Shelly.”
“You bet,” she said and left.
Casie sat there like a block of salt, paper sack on her lap. “Got a hot date in room number four?” she asked.
“Just eat your sandwich,” he said.
“How come you’re not hustling out of here? Are you waiting for someone to get discharged so you have a free room?”
“I spent good money on that meal.”
“Your hot date’s not in labor or something is …” she began, but in that second the truth struck her like a blow. “Who’s at four?” she asked.
“When was the last time you ate?” he asked, but she jolted to her feet. The paper bag tumbled to the floor.
“Is Emily in labor?”
He gritted his teeth at her. “Damn it, will you eat—”
“You son of a bitch!” Rage trembled through her, though she didn’t really know why. “Em’s in labor, and you didn’t even tell me?”
“What good do you think you’re going to do her if you’re passed out on the floor?”
“Where is she?”
“I’m not going to tell you until—” he began, but she caught his shirtfront in both fists and pulled herself up to him.
“Where is she?” she growled.
His brows rose a little. “You are turning into one scary chick, Head Case.”
“Tell me—” she began, but he spoke before she finished the threat.
“Room two seventy-four,” he said. “But she told me not to bother you.”
“Not to …” she began, then snorted and jerked down the hall.
The hospital was like a rabbit warren, but she finally found her way. It took her a while to get permission to visit Emily, who was lying in bed, looking out the window.
“Emily,” she said, slowing her pace as she entered the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Hey, Case,” she said. Her eyes were dilated, her tone a little groggy. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” She forced a laugh. “Well, apparently, you’re having a baby.”
“Oh, yeah. It’ll be over pretty soon, I guess, though. Then I can get back to getting things done. I’m thinking maybe I can sell my rhubapple jam on the Internet. You know, get a bigger market for it.”
Casie settled herself on the edge of the girl’s mattress. “I don’t think now’s the time to think about jam.”
“How’s it going?” A woman in turquoise scrubs stepped into the room.
“Fine,” Emily said. Her eyes were dull. “When do you think I’ll be done?”
“Everything’s going according to schedule,” she said, and glancing at the monitors, wrote something on her clipboard.
“Well, the sooner the better,” Emily said. “I got miles to go, if you know what I mean.”
The nurse gave Casie a dubious glance, then ducked back out of the room.
“Em,” Casie said and reached for the hand that was not plugged into the overhead bag of fluids. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “Well, I’m higher than a kite. I mean, I figure, why not go the pain-free route? But the docs say I’m fine. I should be home the day after tomorrow. Don’t feel like you have to wait around.”
“Of course I’m waiting around,” Casie said. “But you’re not still thinking of giving up—”
“Did I tell you? They found a family for it,” Emily said. “Isn’t that great? An endodontist and his wife. She’s a gardener. Has a greenhouse where she grows orchids and stuff. Can you imagine growing orchids? I can barely get the carrots to grow. And she does charity work. Volunteers at the food shelves. She wears those shoes with the funny name. Berkenshoes or … What are they called?”
“Emily …”
“Birkenstocks,” she said. “Ugly things, but they probably cost more than my hospital stay. The kid’ll be spoiled rotten. Like one of those mean girls in school that I always hated.”
“Emily, I think you need to—”
“Hi,” someone said.
They glanced up in unison.
“My name’s Linda. I’ll be taking over for Sue. I’m told you’re just about ready.”
“I am ready,” Emily said. Her face was flushed. “Let’s roll.”
“Well, let me take a look,” Linda said, and snapping on a pair of gloves, pushed up the blanket that covered the lower half of Emily’s body. “Great,” she said, replacing the sheet. “You’re almost there. I’m going to call the doctor and then we’ll get down to business.”
“Sounds like a plan, man,” Emily said and turned back toward Cas
ie. “You should get something to eat. You look kind of pale.”
“Are you okay?” Casie asked again.
“Never been better.”
“I really think you need to give this more thought, Em. You’re under a lot of stress right now, and this is a huge decision. Maybe—”
“So, Emily … it’s that time,” said a man who entered the room briskly. “Hi.” He glanced up from his clipboard. “You must be Casie. I’ve heard a lot about you. Emily and the baby are going to be living with you at the ranch, isn’t that—”
“There’s been a change in plans, doc,” Emily said. “I’m giving the kid up for adoption.”
“What?” He scowled and glanced at Emily. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely. I mean … I’m just a kid myself, right?” She paused and smiled, though there was sweat on her brow. “I gotta live my life before I can be tied down with that kind of responsibility.”
“Well, maybe now’s not the time to decide something of that importance,” the doctor said.
“I’m giving it up,” Emily said. “And it’s going to have a perfect life. Two parents. No money troubles. A private school.”
“Those things don’t make—” Casie began, but Emily interrupted her.
“The decision’s been made.” She gritted her teeth. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”
Even with an epidural it was a difficult birth, but finally the baby crowned. Casie cut the cord as a doctor drew the infant into the world. Wrinkled and purple and as loud as a cyclone, she arrived with a gargled wail.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor said.
A nurse sucked the fluid from her nose and mouth, then wrapped her in a blanket and handed the little bundle to Casie.
She caught her breath and stared into the disgruntled little face. It was wizened and ruddy, with slits for eyes and tiny fists clenched angrily beside its goopy head. “Oh, Emily …” Her words were barely audible even to herself. “She’s amazing. Just look—”
“Take her away,” Emily said.
Casie glanced up. Emily was facing the wall, expression stony, eyes dead.
The room went silent. Even the infant was quiet.
“Emily—”
“Get rid of her,” she said and squeezed her eyes closed.
CHAPTER 29
The next few hours seemed interminable. But at last the baby was in the hospital nursery, asleep in her glass bassinet like a tiny soldier lined up with her fellow cadets behind the plate-glass windows. Colt stood a few feet and a couple lifetimes away, expression somber as he watched the tiny bundle.
“She’s so …” Casie shook her head.
“Helpless?” he said.
She glanced toward him. Their gazes met. Apologies trembled on her lips, but Dr. Deacon appeared before they could escape her mouth.
“Ms. Hartman is out of surgery,” he said.
“How is she?” Colt asked.
“Better than we had any right to hope,” he said. “She was lucky you found her right away. She’ll be in a wheelchair for a while. Chemotherapy weakens the system for some time even after the treatments stop, but she seems like a fighter.”
“Chemo!” Casie said.
The doctor raised his silvery brows. “You didn’t know?”
“No, I … No,” she said.
His expression was grave. “I’d better let her tell you about it. You can see her now if you like.”
They walked together to her hospital room, but they seemed worlds apart.
Linette looked small and narrow beneath the nubby white blanket.
“Hey,” Casie said, easing into the room. “How are you feeling?”
Linette shifted her gaze sideways. “I’ve been better. I just can’t remember when.”
Casie forced a smile. “You’re going to be all right.”
“Am I?” she asked. She sounded worn and defeated.
Casie refrained from glancing across the mattress toward Colt. She didn’t need him, didn’t need anyone, but sometimes that was hard to remember.
“The doctor said you’re lucky. Everything went well.”
“Lucky,” she said. “I guess that’s a relative term.” She glanced out the window again. There was a dynamite view of the pediatrics wing. “Did he say anything else?”
“Why didn’t you tell us about the cancer?” Casie asked.
“What ever happened to patient-doctor confidentiality?” Linette groused. “He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get charged with a lawsuit.”
“If we had known—”
“What?” Linette asked, facing her again. “You could have wrapped me in cotton batting and put me up on a shelf?”
“We could have been more careful. We could have—”
“You did everything right,” Linette said. “You’re legally and morally exempt from blame. Listen …” She cleared her throat. “I hope I didn’t say something too asinine earlier?”
Colt shook his head. “You were a little disoriented. That’s all.”
“Disoriented as in I forgot the current secretary of state or like I forgot my own name?”
He smiled at her. “Once I came off a bull headfirst in Reno. Made everyone call me Garth for a week and a half.”
“And here I had you pegged for a George Strait fan,” she said and took a deep breath. “How’s Madeline?”
“She’s fine.”
“You sure?”
He squeezed her hand. “Would I lie to you?”
“Probably,” she said, and he smiled, showing that irresistible light at the end of the tunnel.
She sighed, seeming to relax a little as she glanced from one to the other. “And what about you two? You okay?”
“You’re the one we’re worried about,” Casie said.
“Maybe you should worry about yourselves for a while,” Linette suggested.
“Well, we don’t have any broken bones,” Colt said.
Linette scowled a little. “That’s not exactly what I meant. You know …” She drew a deep breath and winced a little. Maybe the painkillers were already wearing off. “It might not seem like it to you, but life’s short. I think you two should—”
“Emily had her baby,” Casie burst in.
Linette lowered her brows, but allowed herself to be distracted. “When?”
“A few hours ago. While you were in surgery.”
She nodded slowly, working out the lost hours in silence. “She probably just didn’t want to make a separate trip to the hospital,” she said finally. “Carbon footprint, and all.”
They smiled. She looked exhausted.
“So everything went okay?”
“Yes. It’s a girl.”
“How long was she in labor?”
“Five hours. Maybe six.”
“Not bad. When I had Heidi …” She stopped herself, glanced toward the window. It had started to rain, pellet-like drops against the window. “So she’s keeping her, right?”
Casie scowled, confused about the older woman’s family, but Linette was speaking again.
“You’ve talked sense into her, haven’t you?”
“It’s not my decision,” Casie said and felt her toes curl at her readiness to cop out at a moment’s notice.
Linette stared at her for several seconds, then shifted her gaze to Colt. “How about you?” she asked.
He remained silent for a moment. His eyes spoke of regrets so deep they burned his soul, but he said nothing of the daughter he had lost before ever seeing. “I guess she’s already signed the legal documents.”
“Documents can be amended,” she said, eyes sharp.
Colt shook his head. “I’m in no position to try to change her mind.”
Linette drew a deep breath, and for a moment Casie thought she would disagree, but the phone rang beside her bed. Her hand looked bruised and fragile as she reached for it.
“Yes.” Her voice was hard. She waited in silence. “She’s right here. Tell her yourself,” she said
and handed the phone to Casie.
She took it with a scowl. “Hello?”
“Ms. Carmichael?”
“Yes?”
“This is Stephanie Pritchard from Pritchard and Pritchard.” The attorney’s voice was low and flat.
Casie winced at the sound of it. Too many crises were coming too fast. She felt it like a blow to her psyche. “Yes?”
“Mr. Pritchard and I have given this case a good deal of deliberation.”
“Listen …” She felt panicked and beaten. “I’m not saying Ty was justified in his actions, but—”
“We’ve decided to drop the charges.”
“He was just trying to …” Casie paused. “What?” The word was barely audible.
“Just don’t expect our son to be coming around in the future.”
“Oh …” She nodded numbly. “Okay,” she said.
In a second, the phone went dead. She stared at it for a prolonged instant, then handed it back to Linette.
“What was that?” Colt asked.
“I just …” Casie shook her head, trying to make sense of things. “I don’t know.”
“Who was it?”
“It was Mrs. Pritchard.”
“The attorney? David’s mother?” His back was suddenly straight, his expression confrontational. “What the hell is she doing calling here?”
Casie shifted her gaze to Linette. “I don’t have any idea. Why did she call you?”
She shrugged. The effort looked exhausting. “They must have gotten my phone number by mistake.”
“But how—”
“I’m tired,” Linette said, and turning toward the wall, closed her eyes to the world.
“So she’s okay, right?” Sophie asked. Her face was drawn. Casie hadn’t seen her smile since her father’s visit. They were on their way up to Emily’s hospital room. Two days had passed since the baby’s birth.
“I think she’s fine. Physically, at least.”
“Physically?” She could feel Sophie’s scowl.
Casie shrugged. It wasn’t as if she had any experience with this sort of thing. “I’m sure it’s not easy giving up a baby,” she said, and wondered if she’d ever know what it felt like to produce another human being. Wondered if she’d ever have the nerve.
“It’s not easy giving anybody up,” Sophie said.
Casie glanced at her, but they had already reached their destination. The door to Emily’s room was open. Dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and oversized cargo pants, she was sitting with her back propped against the pillows, bare feet flat on the bed. Her eyes looked flat and dull as she stared out the window.