Think, Heather, think. How can you remove the gun without your fingerprints all over it?
She spotted a box of tissue on his nightstand and grabbed several sheets before carefully prying the weapon from Michael’s hand. Her eyes frantically searched the room, looking for a towel, cloth, or even a throw, anything she could use to stop the bleeding. In a hospital setting, it would have been easy to find something to treat a gunshot wound. But in Michael’s study, she could find nothing.
But Heather refused to give up. She knew Michael’s life depended on her, and she was determined she would do everything humanly possible to save his life.
Her gaze darted one last time around the room before settling on a small cushion propped in the corner of a leather sofa. A cry of relief escaped her lips, and Heather snatched the cushion and returned to his side. She set the flashlight down and pressed the cushion tightly against his chest, trying to stop the flow of crimson. Then she made another cry for help. Heather pressed a finger against his wrist and counted his pulse.
His pulse is weak.
Heather knew that meant Michael had lost a lot of blood and for the odds of survival to be in his favor, he needed to be transported to a hospital immediately. Her voice pierced the nighttime silence as she made another cry for help and a muffled moan from Michael’s lips pulled her head toward his face. She cradled his face between her hands.
“Michael, are you okay? Can you talk?” She leaned over his face, trying to decipher the garbled sounds coming from his mouth. But Heather couldn’t make sense of his words.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Michael. Just stay with me.” She clutched his hand between hers. “Please, stay with me . . . stay with me.” Her vision began to cloud as a veil of tears drifted across her eyes. “Don’t leave me ...”
The unthinkable reality she could lose Michael forever brought anguish to her heart. How could something so tragic happen to the only man she had ever felt a true connection with? The only person she felt a soul connection with? Why had God brought him into her life only to allow some crazy lunatic, or The Cove Thief to take him away? She wondered if Mary had the same feelings when her son Jesus was crucified.
The sound of pounding footsteps from the hall pulled her from her musings.
Had the intruder returned to finish the job or eliminate her as a witness?
Her heart beat as if she had downed ten cups of coffee. She snatched the heavy flashlight and stood behind the door, holding the flashlight high above head, ready to take out her attacker. She only had one chance to take out her attacker, and she needed to make the first swing count.
The footsteps became louder and as a medium-sized figure stepped past the door, her arms shook as her muscles tensed, ready to send the unsuspecting attacker to the ground.
Give it all you’ve got girl! Make it count!
She gripped the flashlight tighter, but before she could seek justice for Michael, something made her stop.
Heather’s arms relaxed as she recognized Charlie’s face.
“Whoa, Heather! Take it easy, it’s just me.” Charlie held his hand up and gave her a nervous smile.
Heather let the air rush from her lungs as she lowered the flashlight before rushing back over to Michael’s side.
“What happened?” Charlie fell on one knee across from her.
“Someone came in and shot him. I think it must have been The Cove Thief.”
“The Cove Thief? Are you sure? Did you see what he looked like?” Charlie’s voice pitched higher as he lowered his brows at her.
Heather shook her head. “I saw him as he escaped out the window. I couldn’t make out his face. We need to call 911 now.”
Charlie gazed up and down Michael’s body as he reached for his cell phone. “How bad is it?”
Heather continued pressing on the cushion. “I don’t know. But if we don’t get him to the hospital immediately, we might lose him.”
“I’m on it.” Seconds later, Charlie began relaying the address to the dispatcher. When it was confirmed the police and paramedics were on their way, he radioed the other guards to secure the rest of the house.
Heather’s stomach began to burn as if she had just swallowed a hot chili pepper. She knew the bullet had pierced into his chest but wasn’t sure how close it was to his heart. She had treated several gunshot victims, and she knew the odds of survival were good if the bullet didn’t penetrate any major organs or blood vessels. But with the large pool of blood already next to his body, she couldn’t be certain what damage had been done and where the bullet was lodged.
Heather could feel her eyes swell as she fought back the flood of tears. She wanted to be strong for herself and for Michael. She had prided herself for being the rock her patients could lean on, the one strong person in their life that could give them hope during their darkest hour. But now that Michael was facing his darkest hour, her world had turned upside down, and she couldn’t find the strength within to be the rock he needed. The thought of losing him made her sick to her stomach. The only person who could help Michael was the one deity he had rejected. Heather could only hope this tragedy would bring him to his senses and help him realize how much he needed God in his life. She bowed her head and began to pray.
“Dear God, I know you’re watching what’s happening right now, and I lift up Michael to you. His life rests in your hands, and if it be your will, I pray you save him. Show him your mercy and your power and let him know You still love him. Let this be an opportunity for him to see the error of his ways and an opportunity for him to surrender his heart to you. Please give me strength to be there for him. He needs you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I need him. Amen.”
Heather opened her eyes, placed two fingers on the side of his neck and felt his pulse grow weaker. Michael’s face had become ghostly white, and she knew time was running out. “Michael, stay with me,” she ordered. Charlie had called an ambulance, but what was taking so long? She cradled him in her arms as she waited, praying for it to come swiftly. She studied his face and watched as his eyelids fluttered before slowly opening. Heather could see the pain in his eyes.
“Don’t ... leave me, Heather ... please ...” Michael gasped. “Evelyn ... please check her.” His eyes winced with pain. “Reagan knows ... take care ... of you.” His voice faded away as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
“Michael.” Heather gently shook his body. “Michael.” But he remained unresponsive.
At that moment, another guard entered the room, and Heather motioned a hand toward the hall. “Ask Charlie to find out the status of the paramedics and tell him to watch over Evelyn. Michael wants to know that she’s being protected.”
The guard nodded his head, said, “Yes, ma’am,” and turned to rush down the hall.
Heather focused her attention back on Michael. “It’s okay, Michael. I sent someone to get Charlie to go stay with her. She’ll be fine, and no one will leave her side. I’ll make sure of it. Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re going to come out of this fine. Just trust God.”
But the only response she received was the imperceptible rise and fall of Michael’s chest.
A line of tears streamed down her face. “I need you Michael. You can’t leave me ... you can’t leave us.” Heather felt an overwhelming relief as her emotions broke free. For years, she had imprisoned the tender desires of her heart, afraid that if she surrendered them to the wrong man, they would be manipulated and trampled on, leaving her to suffer a slow and painful emotional death. But there was something different about Michael. She felt safe and protected by his quiet confidence and his genuine concern for her well-being, and he seemed to be the only one she could submit her heart to.
“I love you, and Evelyn needs you ... I need you. You make me crazy and happy at the same time. Just stay with me, Michael ... please.” She closed her eyes to pray again, hoping God could see how important Michael was to her, and that was when she heard the wail of the sirens approach the house
.
Chapter 12
Heather clasped her hands nervously together as her eyes remained fixed on the door of the hospital conference room. Two weeks had elapsed, and Michael still remained in critical care in the hospital. Because of the delicate location of the chest wound, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, and today was the day his doctors were going to tell the family what the next step was.
Michael’s family consisted of his brother Andrew, his mother Eleanor, and his father James. They had been staying at the estate ever since Reagan informed them about the tragic assault. Mr. Reagan had contacted Michael’s parents, and they had immediately left their home to see him at the hospital. His mother and brother had both been very kind to Heather, freely sharing any new information from the doctors. But Michael’s father, James was very much the opposite. It seemed he was purposely giving her the cold shoulder and refused to share any information about Michael. But his wife, Eleanor was the complete opposite. She was a sweet and kind woman who reminded Heather of Mrs. Covington. When she had arrived at the hospital the night Michael had been shot, Heather saw that she was a jumbled mess of tears and questions. Heather’s thoughts returned to how she met his family that tragic night.
She had been standing in the hospital lobby, her shirt stained with Michael’s blood and her eyes swollen from crying. The doctors had already whisked him into emergency surgery, and there was nothing she could do but wait helplessly in the waiting room. She knew nothing about Michael’s family and had no idea how to contact them. Fortunately, Mr. Reagan knew who to contact and informed her that he would make the necessary calls to Michael’s family. Linda stayed home with Evelyn while Heather was away.
Heather had sat anxiously in the crowded waiting room, waiting for news about Michael’s condition. But because she wasn’t family, she knew the hospital couldn’t share anything about Michael’s condition. All she could do was wait patiently until one of his family members chose to share news of his condition. Hours later, a loud commotion at the nurses’ station caught her attention, and Heather turned to see what was going on. It was then that the nurse pointed at Heather, and a mature woman with short platinum blonde hair strode over to her, leaving the other men behind.
“Hello, I’m Eleanor, Michael’s mother. I assume you’re Heather?” The woman held out a hand.
“Yes, I am,” Heather returned her greeting.
“Michael’s told me a lot about you.” She leaned back, and her eyes drifted from the top of Heather’s head to her toes. “Well dear, you’re quite a mess aren’t you?” she said with a kind voice as she clasped Heather’s hand between her own. The two men joined them, and James made the first comment to bring her out of her shock.
“What nonsense has my son been involved in that would get him shot? Do you know anything about this?” His voice was loud and accusing.
“Dad, she just works there. It doesn’t mean she knows everything that goes on with Michael; give her a chance to talk.” Andrew turned to look at Heather, and his eyes grew wide. “Good God, is that Michael’s blood all over you?” He ran a hand through his blond hair.
“Oh, dear; why would anyone want to hurt Michael? I just don’t understand.” Eleanor sat down and rubbed her hands together nervously as Heather joined her.
“Tell me dear, what do you do for Michael?” She looked intently at Heather.
“I’m Evelyn’s nurse.”
Eleanor lowered her brows. “If you’re here, then who’s at home with Evelyn?”
“Oh, Linda came back early and is staying with Evelyn.” Heather gave her a nervous smile. “I didn’t want Michael to be all alone.” She looked up at Eleanor, hoping his mother could see how concerned she was.
“You’re a good woman, Heather. That was very kind of you.” Eleanor patted her hand. “It’s all in God’s hands now.”
Since that day, Heather had visited Michael daily, hoping he would awaken from his coma. Eleanor, James, and Andrew had moved into the house temporarily while Michael was undergoing recovery. It seemed to make the most sense because they would be able to spend time with Evelyn and were close enough to be at the hospital within a few minutes. Otherwise, they would have to get a room in town so they wouldn’t have to make the two-hour trip home to Santa Barbara and then drive all the way back again. Linda and Heather had prepared two rooms for the family across the hall from where Evelyn’s room was.
Heather could recall feeling Linda’s worry in every movement she made as she watched the nanny tidy her room.
“Linda, he’ll be okay.” Heather placed her hand on Linda’s shoulder.
“We don’t know that, Heather.” She forced a sigh from her mouth. “I should’ve been here; I could’ve done something!” She threw herself into an overstuffed chair by the door and buried her face into her hands as she began to sob.
Heather couldn’t help feeling sorry for the woman. She understood exactly what Linda was going through emotionally. They both loved him and were worried whether Michael would pull through this crisis or not. But the two differed in how they expressed their fears.
Heather wouldn’t show her true feelings to anyone. After stepping foot into the hospital, it was as if someone had flipped a switch inside her brain, and the professional nurse Heather took over. Maybe it was the way Heather had trained herself to desensitize her feelings as a way of coping with the future loss of her elderly patients. Whatever it was, it had come in handy, especially during Michael’s crisis.
Linda sobbed for a few minutes more and looked up at Heather. “How do you know he’ll be okay? How do we know if we’re even really safe in this house?”
“He has to be, Linda, he has to be ...” She trailed off. “I have to have faith in that.”
Linda looked at Heather for a moment longer and sighed.
“We’re a mess, you and I, Heather. We both love him in our own ways.” She hung her head down.
Heather pulled her brows toward her nose. “I don’t love him, Linda ... there’s—”
Linda stuck her palm up at Heather.
“Don’t deny it, Heather. I already know you love him, and I have for a long time. I know you didn’t want to hurt my feelings, but I’ve seen the way you two act around each other and the way Michael looks at you. I’ve known Mr. Robbins for several years, and the only other person he’s looked at that way was Mrs. Robbins.” A gentle sigh escaped her lips. “Plus, there was the garden too ...” Linda rested her gaze on Heather’s face.
So Linda knew about the kiss in the garden. Heather could feel the heat rise up her neck.
“I ... I don’t know what to say, Linda ...” Heather collapsed in the chair next to Linda, making no effort to hide the look of defeat on her face.
“I never planned for anything to happen between us, and I’ve tried over and over again to deny it. But I couldn’t help myself.” Heather gazed outside the living room window. “But now, it doesn’t matter anyway ... he’s getting married to Cynthia.” Heather leaned back in the chair as a feeling of exhaustion set in.
“That is if he wakes up, Heather. Otherwise, I don’t think that wedding is going to happen. But you know what, Heather? I’m really not upset. As a matter of fact, I’ve moved on.” Linda stood and gathered her stuff. “I’m seeing someone now. It’s not like loving Michael, but ... maybe one day.” She smiled. “You shouldn’t give up on him, Heather. He really loves you; I can see it in the way he looks at you.” Linda gave Heather one last smile before exiting the room, leaving Heather with a bewildered look in the chair.
Her thoughts returned to the hospital room.
Was it that obvious to the rest of the household? Did Evelyn suspect something? Worse than that, was the girl upset at her?
The thoughts raced through Heather’s mind. She had tried to keep a professional relationship with Michael, keeping her strong feelings for him to herself. But it seemed the more they interacted, the stronger his power over her, and she was finding it difficult to keep her emotions re
strained. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out before her heart took over and something happened that she would regret.
Heather shook her head. Life at the Robbins household was beginning to get more complicated, and she was having second thoughts about continuing as Evelyn’s nurse. But now that Michael needed her, she needed to stay by his side. Not because it was her duty as a nurse, but because she needed him, maybe even loved him. She bowed her head and whispered a silent prayer, asking God to take away her desires for Michael or show her where to go to escape the emotional torture she was suffering through.
The days had blurred together into weeks, and Heather did her best to be a gracious host to his visiting family, all while caring for Evelyn and spending time praying with her for her father. There had been a flurry of life-threatening events that had happened in such a short period of time, and now Heather couldn’t believe she was standing in the hospital again, waiting for the doctor to update them with news about Michael’s condition. All Heather could think about was how the surgeon, Dr. Hagen had to tell them that he was going to be okay. That he would be able to return to a normal life with his family, with her. She paced the room with lowered head until finally a tall man with thin white hair came out and called for the “Robbins family.”
Eleanor stood to her feet and walked over to Heather. The mature woman hooked her arm around the nurse and together with the doctor; they made the way into the conference room. The room was stark white and had chairs grouped together on one side. Heather made her way to the one furthest away. Andrew smiled as he sat beside her.
“Before I begin, I would like to let you all know that Mr. Robbins is responding well to treatment and that we have decided to gradually take him out of his induced coma. His wound has healed nicely, and I don’t think there will be any reason why he can’t breathe and function on his own. We started the process this morning, and he should be waking up sometime this afternoon. We’ll still keep him sedated, and he’ll be awake and talking, but I’m not sure how much of what he says will be coherent. We will take him off the propofol and keep him on pain medication so he can continue to sleep soundly.”
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