by Dianne Drake
“Dislocated,” he said. “I think you’ll have to fix me again.”
“Let me catch my breath for a minute first.” Bella shut her eyes, expecting a vision of Rosie’s face to haunt her, the way it so often did. But the face there was Gabriel’s. Only Gabriel.
The walk to the village took nearly an hour, with both Gabriel and Bella practically holding each other up along the way. Several aftershocks hit them en route, and debris that had fallen down in the road threatened to block them in several places. But beaten down, injured, dirty and exhausted as they were, they finally made their way back to the village to discover that a number of the houses there had been damaged or destroyed, as they’d expected. Once Gabriel saw that his mother’s home had sustained severe damage to the front, he left Bella standing in the middle of the road, trying to figure out where to start her assessments first, and ran straight to the house, only to find that no one inside answered when he called.
Frantic to know if his mother and Ana Maria were still in there, he tried to pull away tumbled boards and roofing from the front, ripping at them with his bare hands without regard to his injuries and making very little progress at getting through. So he finally gave up and ran to the rear of the structure, only to discover just as much damage back there. “¿Gloria Elena, dónde está usted? Está usted ahí adentro?” Where are you? Are you here? He shouted frantically, his voice breaking over the cries of children up and down the street and the shouts of other frantic people looking for other survivors. Where was his mother? And Ana Maria…the child he hadn’t wanted, and the child he’d decided grudgingly to raise only because no one else wanted her. Where was she? He had to find her. To protect her. Keep her safe. Because he was her…father. He was Ana Maria’s father. She was his…his daughter. Dear God, his child. She was his child. “Ana Maria!” he shouted frantically, pulling away debris from the back of the house, hoping the way in from there would be easier. But the more he pulled the boards loose, the more the house fell in.
“Vincent!” His mother’s neighbor was standing in the yard, surveying his own wreckage, too stunned to make much sense of it. “Can you help me? I need to find my mother…and my daughter.”
Vincent looked across the lawn at Gabriel, but there was no recognition on his face. Nothing but numbness. The same numbness he saw in Alfonso Calabrese, the neighbor on the other side, who sat in a lawn chair and simply stared out at the road rather than at the collapsed heap of rubbish that had been his home. Gabriel’s heart hurt for these people. He wanted to help them on their own searches, but he couldn’t. Not until he found his family.
For the next ten minutes Gabriel methodically pulled away board after board, as the pain in his shoulder threatened to rip him in two. Every joint, every muscle, every tendon in his body burned, but he had to get through. Had to find them. No matter what the outcome, he had to find them.
Twisting and tearing debris away from the pile, that’s when it hit him. Arabella. She’d lost her friends, people she would have worked with here, and she hadn’t had closure. That’s why she was here now. He was sure of it. Sure that’s why she wasn’t healing. The incision that had cut her life in half was still open, and now that he couldn’t find his mother and baby, he knew how utterly devastating that felt. Dear God, the pain of not knowing! He understood. He truly understood. “Ana Maria!” he shouted. “Mamá!”
“They’re in the church,” Bella called, running up behind Gabriel. “Safe. Both of them. Father Carlos is taking in the people who lost their homes, and your mother and Ana Maria are there, among them.”
Frantic and focused, he kept ripping away the boards, not hearing her.
“Gabriel, stop. Listen to me. They’re safe. Your mother and daughter are safe.” She stepped up behind him and grabbed hold of his arm to physically restrain them. “They’re in the church. They’re not hurt.”
He dropped the board he’d pulled from the pile and let it fall to his feet. “You’re sure it’s them? You saw them yourself?”
She nodded. “I talked to them. Ana Maria’s a little cranky, but so are all the babies there. And Father Carlos says he believes he has every baby in the village safe in the church now. I need you to go stitch him up, maybe tie him down, because I’m afraid he’s going to pass out. Then I need to have a look at all the babies to make sure…then the children, and…” Her words were tumbling out so fast they were difficult to understand.
“Stitch who?” Gabriel asked, effectively slowing her down.
“Father Carlos. He has a nasty cut on his head, and he’s lost too much blood. I’m worried about him because he won’t slow down, and he does need to get off his feet for a while.”
“Slow down yourself, Arabella. You’re as bad as Father Carlos.”
Bella drew in a deep, steadying breath, then slowly let it out. “There’s so much to do. It’s making me frantic.”
“Which is why we need a plan. You know, figure out where to put the people who are injured, decide how we want to go about a house-to-house search for survivors, find a way to get medical supplies into the village.”
“You’re always steady like this, aren’t you? No matter what, you’re always steady.” She looked up at Gabriel for a moment, then tumbled straight into his arms. Arms that were ready for her. And there, in the middle of the road, they stood clinging to each other for a little while, but not as long as either would have liked. Duty called, and they were the only ones there to answer it. Finally, when they knew they’d spent all the time together they could, Gabriel tilted Bella’s face toward his. “You’re a filthy mess, you know.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Blood and dirt caked on your face.”
“I know.”
“Your left eye is swollen half-shut.”
“I know.”
“And you have a cut on your lip the size of that sinkhole I almost lost you in.”
“I know.”
“And I want to kiss you so badly I don’t think I can stand it, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you if I do.”
“Gabriel, I’ve been hurt so much…so much,” she whispered against his shoulder. The one that wasn’t injured. “I think the only thing that won’t hurt me is a kiss from you.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Dr. Arabella Burke,” he said as he lowered his lips to hers.
It was a gentle kiss, and one that could have had so much more had either of them been in good enough physical condition. But none of that mattered because there, in the middle of the road, when Gabriel kissed Bella, the earth moved again. And this time it wasn’t the earthquake.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“READY or not, I think it’s going to be a long night,” Gabriel said on his way past Bella, who was bent over a young girl, examining a wooden splinter half the size of a man’s little finger sticking in the calf of her leg.
“Not ready,” Bella replied, bracing herself to remove it but handing the forceps over to Gabriel instead.
He took a look, and made it quick. One clean yank and a very pretty brown leg was well on its way to healing. The church had been turned into the hub for all medical activity. Besides that it was now home for the homeless, a meeting place for those looking for others and a spiritual sanctuary for anyone seeking peace. The tiny building was full to bursting and, crowded or not, it was the best they had. “How about you doing triage?” she asked. Meaning he would assess the injuries according to severity and need. “And treat the minor injuries. I’ll take anything that’s major.”
Which turned out to be a broken leg that Bella splinted as best she could with makeshift material. And a broken arm, another improvised splint. Lots of head injuries, none of which were too serious. Cuts that couldn’t be stitched for a lack of supplies—her small amount of suture was being saved for the very worst emergencies while she applied tape to injuries that should have been stitched. Hour after hour, people needing medical care trickled in not only from Lado De la Montaña but from other areas.
&nbs
p; “I need more room,” Gabriel shouted to Bella above the noise in the church. “I’ve got another ten people outside who really should be bedded down somewhere for a while.”
More room? They needed a whole medical clinic, Bella thought as she washed abrasive cinders from the eyes of an older gentleman who’d insisted that she treat everybody else before she got to him. They needed Rosie’s medical clinic. “I questioned my sister’s motives,” she said to the man, who didn’t understand a word of English. “Or maybe it was my own motives I questioned. And to be honest, I thought she was crazy for coming back here the way she was going to—just arrive and everything would work out. That’s what my sister thought would happen, and others believed her, probably because she believed it so much herself. She was like that. But I was the one who doubted.”
“Crazy,” he repeated, grinning at her.
“You’re right. I was, maybe still am because I thought that I could come here and step into her dream…maybe as a tribute, or to make amends some way. But…”
A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her confession to a man who, for all she knew, could have thought she was talking about the weather. “It’s Marisol Reyes,” Gabriel said, as Bella spun around.
“No! She’s not…?”
“She’s in heavy labor. Father Carlos just wobbled down to her house—I couldn’t stop him—and she’s having trouble. He said the pains are coming pretty fast. Maybe every minute.”
“I don’t think she can deliver that baby vaginally, Gabriel. You were there. You know it’s huge. Then with the way her blood pressure is elevated…”
“Do you have anything critical going on here?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Then I think we’re going to go deliver a baby together, one way or another. Which I haven’t done since I was a resident, by the way.” He grabbed hold of Bella’s arm and led her through the people clustered everywhere, then out onto the street where there were even more people.
It was an amazing thing, Bella thought. So many of them had lost their homes and everything they owned, yet there wasn’t a great sense of panic or urgency. They were milling about like they might have been going to a church social. And they were helping, comforting, reassuring each other. “I don’t have anything in my medical bag that’s going to do any good delivering a baby,” she shouted, running down the road trying to keep up with Gabriel. Nothing to ease the pain of a natural birth, nothing with which to do a Caesarean should that become necessary.
But she had Gabriel, and that made everything better. Bella seconded that feeling the instant they stepped into Marisol’s home and saw a woman fully involved in having a baby. She was in bed, three of the village women were standing over her, watching her pant and push. “Tell her not to push,” she told Gabriel as she went to the end of the bed and had a look, only to discover that the baby’s head was crowning. “It’s on the way,” she said to Gabriel, who was already assessing Marisol’s vital signs.
“Her blood pressure is topping out,” Gabriel replied. “One-eighty over one-ten.”
“Damn,” Bella muttered. “And we don’t have anything to control it.” She looked at the ladies, who were anxiously engaged in busy work now—fluffing pillows, massaging Marisol’s shoulders—then she looked back at Gabriel. “Can you hypnotize her?”
He chuckled. “Those of us who are experienced in the field prefer calling it the progressive relaxation technique.”
“Well, I think you’d better start relaxing her, because this baby wants out and it’s going to be a hard struggle.” Brushing by Gabriel on her way to the kitchen to wash her hands, she stopped for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here to do this.” His response was drowned out by a moan from Marisol, but Bella didn’t need to hear it. She saw the smile on his face, and that was enough.
“Almost there,” Bella said, feeling sweat beading on her brow. “How’s her blood pressure?”
Gabriel nodded, indicating that it was not dire. He was still engaged in lulling Marisol into a relaxed state and Bella didn’t want to disturb that. If Gabriel kept her blood pressure down, she’d be happy, because all she needed was another minute or two. “Next time the pain comes, give me a good push, Marisol.”
Gabriel translated, and Marisol nodded. She was fighting the pain, her face red, her nightgown drenched with sweat, and Bella was still worried. Two minutes was an awfully long time in a difficult birth, and so many things could happen. She was sure Gabriel was thinking about his sister right now.
“Now, Marisol, push…push…hard!”
Marisol pushed, screamed and pushed some more. Naturally her husband, George, chose that moment to enter the house. He took one look at his wife’s condition, and at the baby that Bella was turning in order to help it all the way out, and passed out cold on the floor. At that moment the baby let out a wail that was worthy of his very large size, and Marisol collapsed back into her bed in an exhausted heap.
“A good ten pounds, I’ll bet,” Bella said, as she handed the newborn over to one of the ladies. “And beautiful. Ten fingers, ten toes, and all the right equipment.”
“Well, Marisol’s still struggling, but she’d holding her own. And the father…” Gabriel glanced down at him. “He’ll have one hell of a headache when he comes to.” He took Marisol’s blood pressure, and gave a big sigh of relief. “It’s down to one-fifty over one hundred. How’s the baby?”
Bella asked one of the ladies, who informed him that the baby was just fine. She was cleaning up the infant, getting him ready to show to Marisol. “I think he’s doing better than either of his parents.” She looked over at Gabriel, who seemed far away, distracted. Thinking about his sister. It had to be tough, and her heart did go out to him. “How are you holding up?” she asked.
He frowned for a moment, then nodded. “I’m good.” He paused. Thought about it again, then nodded again. “I am good,” he repeated, this time sounding like he meant it.
“I was worried because—”
“Bringing a new life into the world takes the sting out of a lot of things. I’m glad we were here to help Marisol through this.”
He didn’t say the rest of the words, but she knew them. If they hadn’t been there, another woman might have died in childbirth because there was no doctor in the village to help. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Bella felt it in the pit of her stomach. “Me, too,” she agreed.
“Like I told you before, we make one hell of a team.” And a fast one. From the moment they’d entered the door until now it had been fifteen minutes. Marisol hadn’t had much more time left than that, and Gabriel was amazed by the way he and Bella worked so well together, anticipating each other, almost without words between them. It had saved two lives and, for the first time, the thought crossed his mind that they would do well together in a clinic here. If he stayed. Which he wouldn’t. But if he did, they could have a hell of a medical practice together.
Could he stay?
Gabriel tried picturing himself giving up the things he’d worked so hard for, the things that defined his life in Chicago, then pushed the thought from his head. Of course he couldn’t stay. The emotion of the moment was clouding his judgment. That’s all it was. Different emotions, different worlds, different everything. He was only reacting to his sister’s death. That was all it could be.
George Gabriel Reyes had been in the world all of thirty minutes now, most of it spent with his father sitting in a chair, holding an ice pack on his head, while his mother reclined in bed, smiling, holding on to him. Bella was busy fussing over mother and baby while Gabriel stood back and watched her. She was an amazing lady, an amazing doctor. Totally out of her element here, yet she didn’t let that stop her from doing anything. And the thing that amazed him most—the sadness was gone from her eyes. When she found herself in her work, the sadness vanished. Bella was finding her heart here in the village, with her work, and he was happy for her. But sad for himself because those thoughts he’d had about the two of
them meeting for long weekends halfway between Chicago and San Francisco would never be anything more than thoughts. “I need to get back to the church,” he finally said, even though he didn’t want to leave Bella. “Who knows what we’ve got going on over there? I think one of us should be there.”
“I’d like to stay here a little while longer, just to keep an eye on George Gabriel. He’s doing well, but I just want to make sure no complications set in. So I’ll be along in an hour or so. And if you need me in the meantime, send someone to get me.”
Before he walked out the door, Gabriel went over to Bella and pulled her into his arms. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?”
“Quite a day,” she whispered.
“How about the two of us finding a bed and grabbing a couple of hours’ sleep when you get back to the church?”
“Why, Dr. Velascos, that almost sounds like a proposition.”
“If I weren’t so tired, it might have been. But the only rise I’m capable of right now is my chest going up and down, hopefully while I’m in a horizontal position.” The sad thing was, he meant it. But the thought of curling up with Bella, if only to sleep, had almost as much appeal as curling up with her for other purposes.
“Then I’d say it’s a date. I’ll see you in an hour if everything goes well.”
An hour that was going to seem more like an eternity. “An hour,” he said, then brushed her lips with a gentle kiss.
One his way back to the church he really wanted to remind himself that he was playing with dangerous emotions here, that there was no way he and Bella could have anything between them. But he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to figure out why.
Practically dragging herself through the church’s narthex, Bella was greeted by dozens of people all huddled in little groups inside the chapel itself, families and knots of friends claiming specific pews as their random domiciles. Babies were crying. Children whining. Adults talking in animated voices, trying to drown out the other noises. The level of noise in the tiny structure reverberated in Bella’s head, caused the dull ache already there to throb even harder.