“No way.” Cheryl laughed. “I don’t believe it.”
“I do.” Noah yawned. “Mary knits Georgina hats and everything. They go everywhere together. Mary never had kids, and I think Georgina started as a substitute baby and ended up as a lifelong friend.”
“So how come she wanted you to have Georgina during the storm?” Cheryl asked. “Wouldn’t she want Georgina to be with her?”
“They’re both really old now, Cheryl. I guess Mary couldn’t bear to see anything happen to Georgina, and she doesn’t want Georgina alone in the house if anything happens to her. Somehow I don’t think Georgina’s going anywhere for a while.”
“You mean you’ll have her even when the storm passes and the roads are open.”
“I think so.” He was stretching beside her again, his arms up in the air, not bothering to smother his yawn. “I’ll take her over to Mary’s for a visit now and then, but I reckon I’m lumbered with the little madam for now.” He gave a low laugh. “I’ll write it off as experience, I guess. Who knows? I can always open a hospice for spoilt, overindulged miniatures horses if business gets bad.”
The rain was still pounding, but with less urgency now. Cheryl lay listening to it, cocooned in her own world with Noah. His hands softly rolled her over toward him and she went to him in an instant. The brown stubble on his chin was peppered with blond, and she reached up to kiss him, a deep, languorous, lazy kiss that affirmed the passion they had discovered last night. Reluctantly Noah ended the kiss, dragging his tired body out of the bed and yawning again as he searched the floor for his clothes, running a lazy hand through his hair. If ever there was a moment she wished she could somehow capture forever, it was that one.
Although the rain was steady outside, the terror of yesterday was gone now, and the promise of today stretched before them.
“Don’t be long,” Cheryl grumbled as Noah pulled on his discarded clothes.
“Hopefully not,” he said. “I’m just going to check the damage, find out what the hell that noise was when the storm first hit.”
“You’re not going outside.” The storm may have abated, but the weather was anything but friendly.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t got a death wish. There will be power lines down and God only knows what else.” Sitting back on the bed, he pulled on his boots and then leaned over, one hand catching her naked thigh through the rumpled sheet. “You get some more sleep.”
“You need some, too, Noah.”
He gave a weary smile. “I didn’t nearly drown yesterday.”
How long she slept, Cheryl wasn’t sure but it was a deep sleep. She wasn’t even aware he had returned until she felt the mattress shift, heard a long, exhausted sigh as finally he stretched out.
“How are the animals?”
“Good.”
“Mabel?” Cheryl asked when Noah didn’t elaborate.
“Proud mother to twelve.”
“What was the noise, Noah?”
He paused before answering. “Upstairs is completely gone. There’s a tree where the bathroom used to be—I guess we might be needing that kitty litter after all.
“That was a joke,” he added when Cheryl didn’t respond. “There’s a washroom here.”
“It isn’t a joke, though, is it.” She could feel his utter weariness. “I’m sorry, Noah, really sorry. All that work you put into…”
“It’s just a house.” He sighed. “Downstairs seems okay. I’ll have a better look when it’s lighter. I’ll have to put up some tarpaulin till I can get someone in. I guess we’ve been lucky, really.”
He gave a tight shrug, delivered the usual platitudes, but Cheryl felt his hollow sadness. It wasn’t just a house; this was his home. The one room he had lovingly renovated had been destroyed, his family heirloom no doubt smashed to pieces. Maybe in the scheme of things it wasn’t much of a loss, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. She lay quietly for a moment, wishing there was something she could say that might help. Maybe she was a nurse after all, Cheryl decided, because all she could think of, the only practical thing she could offer was to get up and make a drink.
“Not for me,” Noah said. “I’d better get back out there. It’s getting light enough to see now. I just wanted to stretch out for five minutes.”
“Literally! Come on, Noah, you’ve only had a couple of hours’ sleep. Surely the horses can wait a while.”
“No, Cheryl, they can’t.”
There was an edge to his voice she couldn’t understand, a warning as his eyes flashed at hers, but she chose to ignore it, genuinely concerned now. He was beyond exhausted; the very last thing he should be doing was going outside.
“Come back to bed,” Cheryl insisted, but Noah just shook his head.
“This is how it is for me. This is what being a veterinarian entails. Animals don’t care that you’ve barely slept for three days. They don’t give a damn that it’s Christmas Day or that you’ve been out late the night before.”
“Are you trying to put me off?” Cheryl asked softly.
“I’m just telling you how it is.” He gave a low, mirthless laugh. “Believe me, Cheryl, there’s nothing I want to do more than lie down beside you.”
“Or just lie down?” Cheryl asked perceptively. “I bet the floor looks pretty good right now?”
Noah nodded, facing her then. “I’m trying to be honest, Cheryl, trying to tell you, right from the start, how it is for me.”
“So tell me.”
“I just did, and you’ve got no idea how many women have said they understand and have seemed to…”
“Until your pager goes off at the vital moment?” Moving across the bed to where he sat, she knelt behind him, massaging aching shoulders that were knotted with tension until finally he relaxed a little beneath her touch. “Or until you jump ship in the middle of a dinner party or miss the end of a DVD for the second night in a row? I really do understand, Noah.”
And she did, more than she could logically explain. Somehow she understood that work couldn’t always be confined to a single shift.
“Noah.” There was bewilderment in her voice and he reacted to it, turning to face her, watching as she struggled to articulate the images flashing in her mind. “I am a nurse. I work shifts.” Her eyes widened as memories returned, stilted ones. It was like flicking through a stranger’s photo album, catching glimpses of someone else’s life. Noah’s hands gripped hers hard as she carried on.
“I know the pressure you’re under. I know how it feels to come home late to accusing eyes. I did shifts, came home tired after a long day, and all I wanted to do was rest instead of go out to a movie, but my…” Her mouth snapped closed, choking down the one word neither of them wanted to hear.
But Noah was the brave one. He faced it head-on as Cheryl attempted to slam that mental window closed, the memories she had begged to return not wanted now.
“Your husband?”
She didn’t answer at first. Her brimming eyes met his, and when she saw the pain in his face, anger even, as he stared back at her, it was the hardest thing she had ever done to nod at him, confirming their worst fears. His hand dropped hers, his expression aghast at her revelation. “Please, Noah…”
“Please, Noah what?” He shook his head, striding across the room, wrenching the door open before turning to face her. “There’s nothing more to say here, Cheryl. You’re a married woman. This conversation has to be over.”
“I don’t know for sure that I am married, Noah. It’s just a memory, a feeling. I don’t knows what’s real anymore. All I can remember—”
“Cheryl.” His voice was like the crack of the whip, his stance unequivocal. “If you remember nothing else, then remember this. What happened last night was wrong. Until we knew who you were, we should never have taken things further, and I accept full responsibility for my part in it. But I won’t be responsible for breaking up your marriage.”
“We need to talk, Noah,” Cheryl begged.
“It’s a b
it late for that,” he said tightly. “The best thing I can do for you now is put as much space between us as possible.”
“That isn’t going to change anything,” Cheryl insisted. “That isn’t going to make this all go away.”
“So how do you want me to play this, Cheryl? How do you think I should react? Climb back into bed and pretend that you didn’t say what you just did?”
“Of course not.”
“Or perhaps you want me to tell you that last night didn’t mean a thing, to forget it ever happened? Just what the hell am I supposed to do here, Cheryl?”
“I don’t know….” Cheryl never knew quite how it happened, whether Noah froze or she did, whether what she heard first was the footsteps or the frantic knocking on the door, but even before that, panic engulfed her. Sitting up, she pulled the blanket over her breasts and turned to Noah as a frantic pounding hammered the door, then watched in slow motion as he started to run.
She was searching for her own clothes now, pulling on the same blue uniform she had worn last night. Once she was dressed, she dashed through the clinic. Something clicked inside—instinct, memories, she didn’t know what. But this sense of urgency was familiar, and she knew that the pounding on the door meant someone was in serious trouble.
That she was needed.
She raced behind Noah as he wrenched the door open, then gasped in shock as scared green eyes she actually recognized met hers.
“Help my mom,” the lisping voice pleaded.
“Flynn!” She recognized him! But there was no time to relish her memory’s return. Flynn’s screams were filling the hall, the bandage she had so carefully applied sodden on his arm as he pulled on Cheryl to follow Noah, who had already dashed out.
“They’re in the car,” he said.
She could feel the mud beneath her bare feet and almost slipped in her haste to get to the vehicle. Anguish tightened Noah’s features as he wrenched open the back door of the car, no doubt thinking the nightmare of losing Cody was starting all over again.
“Noah!” Her shout was controlled as she pulled open the driver’s door. “Noah, it’s Beth who’s in trouble.”
And she was in serious trouble.
The engine was still running as Beth lay slumped over the wheel, her cotton pajamas drenched in blood, and it took a second for Cheryl to figure out where it was coming from. She registered the crude tourniquet fashioned from a tea towel around Beth’s arm.
“Help me.” It was barely a whisper, Beth’s pale lips just forming the words.
Cheryl’s heart went out to this brave, amazing woman who had somehow managed to drive her babies to safety.
“We’re going to help you, Beth.”
“The window broke.”
Flynn was hysterical, holding his fractured arm, the slab she had applied literally hanging off, and Cheryl ached to reassure him, but there simply wasn’t time. Her fingers palpated Beth’s neck, feeling the rapid flickering pulse there. She stepped aside as Noah picked Beth up, scooped her in his arms as effortlessly as if she were a child and started running back to the house. Cheryl went to follow him, but whether it was professionally ingrained or just feminine instinct, she first unclipped the baby seat. Walking as fast as she could toward the house without falling, she carried Paul and used the tiny slice of time to comfort Flynn.
“You’re safe now, Flynn.”
“Mommy was bleeding, there was so much blood. She tried to call Mitch. I tried, too.” He held out his phone to Cheryl, and she struggled to keep the look of utter devastation from her face as she saw the flat signal line. “I think I dialed wrong, but I tried—”
“You did so well,” Cheryl broke in, “so very well. The phones don’t work, Flynn, because of the storm last night, but they will soon.”
She led them through the clinic, where Beth lay bleeding on an examination table as Noah set to work. Cheryl took the two boys to the apartment, where she fashioned a sling around Flynn’s arm from a towel, securing it tightly to his chest and wrapping a blanket around him. Then she turned her attention to Paul, who was purple in the face and screaming at the top of his little lungs.
“He wants his soother,” Flynn called through chattering teeth. “Mommy clips it to his sleeper.”
She did, too. Thank God, Cheryl thought as she unwrapped the baby’s blanket, located the soother and prayed it would be enough to comfort him.
“Told you!” Flynn said proudly as the sobs abated. “Sometimes I put it in for Mom if she’s having a shower. It always works.”
“You’re a smart boy, Flynn.” Cheryl gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and pulled him into her arms to attempt to calm him a touch. “I need to help your mom, Flynn.” She felt him stiffen and hugged him tighter. “You have to be very brave. You have to look after your little brother and stay here. Can you do that for me?”
“Is she going to die?” he asked. “Is she going to die like Cody?”
And even though false hope was wrong, even though she couldn’t really be sure, this was a seven-year-old boy she was leaving alone, a seven-year-old boy who had already been through way too much in his short life.
“Mommy’s very sick,” Cheryl said slowly. “But Noah’s very skilled—”
“And you’re a nurse,” Flynn broke in. “You told me you’ve seen legs hanging off….”
“Lots of times,” Cheryl said firmly. “That’s why I need to be with her, Flynn. Can you understand that? That’s why I need you to be brave and strong and sit here. I want you to hold the phone, and the second there’s a signal, I want you to call me in your loudest voice. Can you do that?”
He nodded solemnly, and Cheryl’s heart went out to the brave little guy sitting on the vast bed, staring at the cell phone that he hoped would bring help for his mother.
“GO BACK TO FLYNN.” Noah didn’t even look up as she ran through the clinic and into the operating room.
Beth’s body lay limp and pale on the table, her arm held high by Noah as he wrapped a wad of green sterile cotton drapes over the tea towel Beth had used in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Occasional whimpers of pain were the only noise she made as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
“We need to elevate her legs,” Cheryl said instead, eyes frantically searching for a cushion, pillows, anything.
“The table lifts,” Noah said without looking up. “There’s a lever underneath.” He slipped a tourniquet over Beth’s good arm and slapped at her hands in an attempt to bring up her veins, as Cheryl lifted the bottom of the table. “Get back to Flynn,” he said again, more loudly this time. “I’ll deal with Beth. He can’t be left on his own.”
“I’ve spoken to him,” Cheryl responded, her eyes working the room. In seconds she located the IV flasks and giving sets, all neatly labeled. Locating a plasma expander that was suitable for humans, she started to run it through. “He understands that I—”
“He’s seven years old.” Noah’s face was an unhealthy gray, and the eyes that turned to her held more pain than she had ever wanted to witness. “He watched me try to resuscitate his brother and now he knows I’m trying to do the same for his mom. That little guy’s been through hell—he cannot be left alone.”
“I’m a trauma nurse, Noah.” Her eyes held his. “I can remember everything now—everything!” she added. Cheryl could feel the unspoken questions sizzling in the air, the pain in his eyes as his gaze held hers, but there simply wasn’t time to go there, so instead she shot into assertive-nurse mode, taking action exactly as she was trained to do.
“Everything, Noah,” she repeated briskly, managing to avoid looking at him by turning the connection on an oxygen cylinder and trying to fit a too-small mask over Beth’s slack mouth. “This is what I do every day of my working life. I’ve explained to Flynn why I need to be here, that his mom needs help, and if he can understand that, then you can, too.”
“But Flynn…”
“Flynn needs his mother,” Cheryl said firmly, coming back to
his side as he struggled to gain access to Beth’s collapsed veins. “And we’re going to make sure he gets to keep her. Now, have you got an oxygen mask that will fit better?”
A nod in the direction of some drawers was all the response she was going to get, and Cheryl located a mask that would provide a tighter fit and give Beth a higher concentration of oxygen. She headed for the IV fluids, checking what Noah had that might be compatible with humans and settling for the safety of a liter flask of normal saline—not the ideal fluid for a hemorrhaging woman, but at least it was something. Pulling on gloves, she pushed the IV pole over, hung the flask and connected it, as Noah somehow managed to gain IV access. The liquid seeped down the line, but they both knew it simply wasn’t enough.
“I’ll put in a second line before I take a look,” Noah said, and Cheryl nodded as she tried to familiarize herself with the room, pulling out packs and making a mental note of anything they might need. Their first priority was to resuscitate Beth with fluids, to stabilize her hemody namically, before they addressed her injury. “Do we know any more of what happened?” he asked.
“Just that she cut it on a window.”
The second line was in, fluid gushing into her veins. Beth moaned in agony as Cheryl attempted to get her blood pressure reading. She shook her head as she pulled off the stethoscope. “I can’t hear it.” Her fingers worked Beth’s wrist, inflating the cuff yet again, straining to feel a pulse as she let the cuff down.
“Her blood pressure’s unrecordable, Noah.” She handed him the stethoscope to allow him to check, but Noah shook his head, clearly trusting her judgment. “She needs blood.”
“I don’t have blood.” Noah shook his head grimly. “Just saline.”
“But she’s still losing.” Cheryl gestured to the cotton drapes, dark now with blood despite Noah’s tight wrapping. Attaching Beth to a cardiac monitor, Cheryl chewed her lip as she eyed the tachycardia on the monitor. “She needs blood.”
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