by Vella Day
PROMISES OF MERCY
Montana Promises
Book 1
Vella Day
Copyright © 2013
PROMISES OF MERCY
Copyright © 2013 by Vella Day
www.velladay.com
[email protected]
Cover Art by Sloan Winters
Published in the United States of America
E-book ISBN: 978-0-9899759-0-2
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief questions embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To Dr. Charley and Dr. Rebecca Lynn for all your help.
Without Olivia Jaymes and Kennedy Layne this book might never have been written.
To the best proofreaders and editors around: Maureen, Anne-Marie, Carol, Corinne, and Erica. You ladies rock!
Chapter One
As oncology nurse, Amber Delacroix, stepped from one of her patient’s room, her boss, Tammy White, headed toward her with tense shoulders and a haunted expression. She hesitated only a moment before wrapping an arm around Amber’s shoulders. Amber stiffened at the unexpected contact—and feared what it might mean.
“We need to talk,” Tammy said in a soft voice. And Tammy didn’t do soft.
Those ominous words “we need to talk” swam in Amber’s head, and her stomach tumbled. Something horrifying must have happened. Tammy never approached her unless it was serious.
“What’s wrong?” Amber’s voice shook.
Her boss escorted her down the hall into the break room. “Let’s sit down.”
Tammy motioned to the sofa. She sat next to Amber and inhaled deeply, the lines around her eyes and mouth appearing more pronounced than usual. When Tammy picked up Amber’s hand, an ugly sludge oozed through Amber’s veins.
She couldn’t stand the suspense. “Tell me.” Her voice cracked.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that your brother was in a very bad motorcycle accident an hour ago.”
Amber’s heart stopped. That couldn’t be true. Intense pressure crushed her from all sides. “But he’s okay, right?” She needed to go to him. “Why didn’t I find out sooner?”
“Amber. Chris ran a red light. The paramedic on duty did everything he could to stabilize him, but his spinal cord was compromised and his spleen may have been damaged.”
Amber shook her head. “No.” Chris was a bit careless, but he was a good driver. She rubbed her temples, but Tammy’s words still stampeded through her brain. “I have to see him.” When she tried to stand, Tammy gently pulled her back down.
“He’s in good hands. Let the doctors do what they do best.”
Having their standard saying apply to her made Amber realize what her patients’ family members truly went through. Living Hell. A sob bubbled up and escaped.
Tammy rubbed her back. “It’ll be okay.”
No, it wouldn’t. Amber’s shoulders trembled. Poor Chris. She dropped her face in her hands and cried. When the tears finally stopped, Tammy stood. A few minutes later, she was back with a cup of tea and some crackers.
“Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” She placed the package next to her.
Amber shook her head. Nothing would make her feel better. Upon Tammy’s prodding, Amber sipped the hot tea, but it didn’t dull the ache racing through her.
For over an hour, her boss remained by her side trying to comfort her, but nothing helped. The door had opened a few times and whispers sounded, but her boss must have shooed her coworkers away.
Tammy’s pager then went off, and when she looked at it, her jaw hardened.
Amber wiped her cheeks. “Go ahead and take it. I’ll be okay.”
“I hate to leave you.”
“It’s okay. You have a job to do.”
Tammy appeared torn. “I’ll check up on you.” She gave Amber one last hug and hurried out the door.
No longer able to sit, Amber stood, wrapped her arms around her stomach, and paced. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
She halted. Oh, God. She had to tell her mom. The thought of delivering the bad news made her stomach churn even worse. She wasn’t even sure she could say the necessary words.
Just do it.
Inhaling, she punched in her mom’s number, hoping she’d be free to talk. As head cardiac surgeon at the Oklahoma City Memorial Hospital, her mother could be with a patient or addressing a group of doctors somewhere in the country.
“Amber? Can I call you back? I’m having lunch with someone important.”
I’m not important? The hurt and anger from the past, combined with this recent blow, nearly drowned her. There never would be a good time for her mom, so she blurted out the terrible news. “No, Mom, you can’t. Chris was hit by a car.” She choked out another sob and rubbed her palms down her pants, trying to dry the perspiration. “He might be paralyzed.”
“Oh, my God. Was he driving that damned motorcycle of his? How many times have I warned him of the danger?”
“Is that all you can focus on? This is your son we’re talking about. Chris. Remember him?” Then she recalled that everyone grieved in different ways.
“Amber, don’t be insolent.”
Then don’t shut me out. “He was on his bike when a car ran into him.” The horrific part was that he was speeding and had run a red light, but she wasn’t about to share that bit of information now.
“What’s his prognosis?” Her mother’s tone came out cool and controlled. A far cry from Amber’s emotional reaction.
“It’s too early to tell. Can you come and be with him? He’ll want to see you when he wakes up.”
“Oh, darling, you know I would if I could, but there’s a huge benefit this weekend to raise money for the cardiac unit of the hospital, and I’m running the event.” Chatter and the clinking of glasses sounded in the background, implying she was at a restaurant. “Call me when you know more, and I’ll try to get up there.”
“You have to come. Chris needs you.”
“I’ll try.” Her mother disconnected.
You better do more than try. Amber sagged against the edge of the break room counter, her gut clenching. Every bit of pent up frustration shot to the surface. Why was she so disappointed at her mom’s response when she’d never been any other way? Once her older brother, Thomas, became a doctor, her mother’s mission in life had been fulfilled, and it seemed as if she’d said to hell with the rest of her kids.
One of the reasons her mother insisted Amber’s younger brother move from Oklahoma to Rock Hard, Montana was because she thought Amber might be able to tame him. Now apparently she’d failed at even that.
Amber shook the phone. “Fuck you, Mother.”
She didn’t know whether the dismissal or the hint of blame her mom seemed to be placing hurt more. Amber turned back around and looked in the mirror over the small kitchen sink. “It’s not my fault.” Christ. She looked like shit. The person with the red eyes, sunken cheeks, and brown wavy hair that had escaped its tie, mocked her.
Before she could do anything about her ragged appearance, the break room door burst open and Jamie Henderson rushed in. “Oh, Amber, I just heard.”
Her best friend, a hospice nurse at the hospital, embraced her, and the comfort helped unbind some of her muscles.
Jamie tri
ed to soothe the hair around Amber’s face. “Maybe you should go home and rest. You need to be strong for him.”
Amber shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”
Jamie leaned back and squeezed her hand. “I found one of the doctors who worked on Chris.” Her smile looked forced. “He’s going to live.”
The words should have comforted her, but Chris’s definition of living might be different from Jamie’s. Amber sniffled. “Did they say when he’d be back in Intensive Care?”
“The doctors are looking at the CAT scan now.”
That didn’t answer her question. She hoped Chris needed surgery. If his spinal cord had been severed, there’d be nothing the doctors could do.
Amber wiped the moisture from under her eyes. “I should let them know where I am in case one of the doctors needs to get a hold of me.” For the first time, she noticed the small table wedged in the corner of the break room. It looked as lost as she felt.
Jamie gave her another hug. “I’m staying with you.”
“What about your patients?”
“Marla and Cherise are covering for me.”
“Tell them thank you.”
She followed Jamie out of the room and located one of the emergency room nurses. Amber told her she and Jamie would be in the waiting room until they received news of her brother’s condition.
“I have to call my older brother Thomas,” Amber said, the crack in her heart widening once more. “He’s a doctor.”
“I remember.” Jamie stood. “I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll grab some snacks from the machine. They don’t have tea, so do you want a Coke instead?”
“Sure.” The caffeine might help with her headache. Dread swirled as she called Thomas, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Shit. She hated to leave the terrifying news on a message, so all she said was for him to call her back. That it was important.
Less than a half an hour later, after downing two packages of crackers and a Coke, he returned her call. Because the waiting room was freezing, she stepped outside into the sunshine and told him the same thing she’d told their mom. At least her brother sounded upset even though by the time Chris was old enough to talk, Thomas had already left home for college.
Pinching the bridge of her nose for relief, she returned to the waiting room.
“So?” Jamie asked.
Her best friend knew of her rocky relationship with the rest of her family members, outside of Chris. “He sounded genuinely upset, and I don’t think it was his doctor’s persona either.”
Jamie rubbed Amber’s arm. “I’m glad.”
Over the next two hours, people came and went and yet there was no news about her brother’s condition. Amber stared at the endlessly ticking wall clock and prayed for someone to bring good news fast. Chris had to survive. She’d be lost without her brother.
Without him, she had no one.
At 5:25 p.m., a doctor entered the waiting room, his gaze cast downward. She recognized him, but she’d never spoken with him before.
“Amber?”
“Yes?” She stood and crossed her arms over her stomach. “How is Chris?”
“Stable. I’m afraid his C7 was severed.”
Her heart stopped. Her head spun. Everything between C3 and C6 was needed for the diaphragm to work. Everything below C7 was for moving the rest of his limbs. “He has no movement at all from the chest down?” She didn’t know why she asked. Was she hoping the doctor had made a mistake?
Jamie stood and wrapped an arm around her, and Amber dropped her head on her friend’s shoulder for a moment. Her temples pounding, she faced the doctor.
“I’m afraid not. He can breathe on his own, so that’s good.” His cheeks sagged. “He’ll be able to shrug his shoulders, move his wrists, and wiggle his fingers. With therapy, he might be able to peck out some words on a keyboard. His cord is still swollen, so we can’t say precisely the full extent of his injury until after we test him.”
Hope of a recovery evaporated. Chris would want to die. “When can I see him?”
“He’s sleeping and needs his rest. We had to intubate him and give him a lot of pain meds, but you can go in and hold his hand for a few minutes if you want.” He told her the room number.
“Thank you.”
The doctor nodded and left.
Amber might be an oncology nurse who dealt with pain and death on a daily basis, but to see Chris crumpled and broken would take every ounce of courage she possessed not to let him see the horror on her face.
* *
Stone Benson, a paramedic for the Rock Hard Fire Department, jerked his attention back to what his roommate, Cade Carter, was saying. “Sorry. What?” Stone had been off work for four hours, yet he hadn’t been able to get the image of that poor kid sprawled at an odd angle next to his cycle out of his head.
Stone’s mind had wandered to when he was in Iraq holding his best friend, Heath, in his arms, helpless to save him. Heath’s legs had been badly mangled by a bomb, whereas this young man’s spine had been contorted by the wreck. Both had life altering injuries. He’d been unable to save Heath. At least this kid had lived.
“I asked if you’d heard anything about Emma Luther’s case?” Cade brought Stone’s attention back to their present conversation.
“No.” He looked up at Cade. “You do remember I don’t work at the hospital, right?”
“You socialize with the ER docs. One of them might have mentioned something about her death.”
Stone blew out a breath. “Emma Luther was a late stage cancer patient. She might have died suddenly, sending the oncology wing into a tizzy, but the ER docs wouldn’t have a reason to know about her except for hearsay.” Had her parents not demanded an autopsy, no one would have known she’d been murdered. Stone held up a hand. “I did ask around for you, but either the emergency room guys want to protect someone or they don’t know anything. Bottom line is no one’s saying a word.”
Cade stabbed a hand through his hair. “I’m at a dead end.”
Stone stood, went over to the kitchen and retrieved a beer from the fridge. “I bet that’s driving you crazy.” Cade worked harder than anyone Stone knew—too hard in fact—though if Stone’s father had been a criminal like Cade’s, he might want to work extra hard to atone for his wrongdoings, too.
Cade stopped pacing and dropped onto the living room sofa. “I’ve spoken with every one of the nurses and doctors who cared for Emma as well as the family members, but I can’t point a finger at any of them.”
Stone sat back down across from him. “Weren’t you convinced Emma’s nurse was involved? What was her name?” Cade handled a lot of cases, and Stone couldn’t keep up with who was who.
“That’s the one I’m talking about. Her name’s Amber Delacroix.”
His heart pinched. “Delacroix?”
Cade’s hand stilled. “You know her?”
“No, but I brought her brother in today.” The emergency room doctor had told him the young man was Amber’s younger brother and that she was a nurse at the hospital.
Stone blew out a long breath. At least when he’d delivered the kid to the ER, the young man had been alive. Too many motorcycle accident victims died before they got help.
“How is he?”
“Bad.” He described the gruesome scene when he’d arrived. “You know how much I never like to resort to a neuromuscular blocker, but the victim was thrashing about so much, if I hadn’t stopped him from moving, no telling what further damage he might have caused. From the angle of his head, his spinal cord had already been compromised.”
“That sucks.”
“Tell me about it. You think after six years of seeing this shit, I’d become immune.”
Cade chugged half his beer. “Did you speak with the sister?”
Stone often tried to follow up with the family members. “Not yet, but I will after I visit the boy. There was something special about the way the kid looked at me that makes me want to be sure he’s okay.
” It was hard enough to find the time to visit the injured let alone the relatives, but with Amber, he considered it a professional courtesy. Besides, when Cade first mentioned her, his eyes had lit up then extinguished quickly as if he didn’t want to consider her a suspect in the other case.
“Let me know your impression of her. Amber stated that Emma suffered a lot and that she was terminal. When I interviewed Amber a month ago, I admit she seemed compassionate, and not really the type to be an angel of mercy, but she had the motive and opportunity.” He hunched over. “I just need evidence.”
“I’ll speak with Amber because that’s what I do, not because you want me to help with your case. If I think there’s something screwy or unscrupulous about her, I’ll let you know.”
Cade nodded. “Thanks.” He leaned back in his chair and stared ahead. “This case is kicking my butt.”
“It’s okay not to be perfect.” Cade had lost weight in the past month and his cheeks were a bit sunken. Stone suspected it was this case in particular. “You don’t have to solve all your cases. No one does.”
His roommate took another hit from his bottle, but he set it right down. He must have forgotten it was empty. The slightest hint of a smile appeared. “You think I’m perfect?”
His change in attitude cheered Stone up. The fun-loving side of Cade had returned, if only briefly. “In your mind, buddy.”
“What do you say we head to Banner’s Bar and tie one on?”
Stone’s shift started at 4:00 a.m., and he needed to be sharp. “I’ll take a rain check.”
Cade nodded as if he’d expected Stone to turn him down. “You got it.”
Stone finished his beer, dumped the bottle in the trash, and headed to his room to shower. His mind raced to that poor broken boy and his sister. Not that he believed in stereotyping, but he imagined that as an oncology nurse, Amber Delacroix would be a true caregiver who would give hell to any doctor who didn’t do the best for her patient.
Once he undressed, he stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over his body. Too bad no amount of heat or scrubbing could erase the look on the boy’s face from his memory. The least he could do was try to help Amber, small though his effort may be. After he finished his shift tomorrow, he’d stop by the hospital to see Chris, then find the sister.