by Kim Murphy
Was this good news? The doctor’s inflection suggested that it could be, but I failed to comprehend why Lee was in the woods.
“He’s in the ICU and probably will be for a few days. The bullet fractured his left femur, and a bone fragment nicked the femoral artery. He’s lost a lot of blood. We’re giving him transfusions and fluids to help compensate. I didn’t see any sign of nerve damage. He was in a lot of pain when he was first brought in, but thankfully, he was able to move his toes. Any questions?”
Where to begin? “What is a femur?” I asked, raising my hand, as my tutor had taught me.
“The thigh bone.” He pointed to a chart of a skeleton. “The femoral artery is the main artery in the leg. More than likely, Detective Bailey saved his life by applying direct pressure to stifle the bleeding until the medical team arrived.”
As a healer, this explanation I understood. “May I see him?”
“Of course. He’s been asking for you. I do want to limit the number of visitors to two at a time while he’s in ICU.”
I glanced to Shae, and she instructed me to go ahead. Following behind the doctor, Ed escorted me to the ICU. I imagined this to be the woods that he had spoken of, but it looked similar to the hospital room I had been in upon arriving in this century. A blue curtain separated the beds, and tubes trailed everywhere from Lee’s body. A mask covered his nose and mouth, and there was a screen that resembled the TV at Colwell House.
Though Lee was awake, his eyes were glazed. Careful not to hit any of the tubes in his arm, I grasped his hand. His face brightened upon seeing me, and he squeezed my fingers.
“You were lucky, Lee,” Ed said. “He killed that mother and her little girl.”
Lee’s gaze followed Ed’s voice.
“We got him, partner. He won’t hurt anyone again.”
Lee’s grip tightened on my hand, and I stroked my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, but I had already felt the rush of emotion. As best as I could, I hugged him, whispering my love, whilst behind me, Ed slipped out of the room. He had delivered the message that Lee needed to hear. Unlike Lightning Storm, Lee would live, and I would tend him.
* * *
53
Shae and Lee
The following day, Shae canceled her appointments and drove to the nursing home. After parking the car, she went straight inside. Upon entering, she notified the receptionist that she had an appointment with Mr. Shreve, one of the management staff workers. Soon, she was escorted into an office, where a portly man with a pale-blue button-down shirt greeted her. He motioned for her to have a seat. “What can I do for you, Dr. Howard?” he said, seating himself behind the desk.
“I was wondering if Natalie Crowley has been informed about her son.”
“The hospital hasn’t kept us very well informed.”
“In other words, ‘no.’ Mr. Shreve—”
“Dr. Howard, we have told her, but I’m not certain how much she’s absorbed. We’re short staffed, and I’m actually quite relieved that you’re here. As a psychologist, you’re much more qualified to explain the situation.”
Not really—dementia wasn’t her specialty. “I’m going to take her to see him.”
“As I had hoped. I’ll make certain the paperwork is ready when you are.”
At least they were being cooperative. “Thank you.”
“If there’s anything else I can do—”
“I’ll let you know. Thanks again.” Shae made her way into the hall and went in the direction of Nat’s room. Except for a few cousins, Lee was the only family Nat had among the living. And now— Don’t think that way. Lee will live.
Stopping before the door to Nat’s room, she wondered if she was ready for this. How did you tell a mother that her son had been gunned down? Lee faced these situations in his job. She’d handle it as well. Shae knocked. When no one responded, she poked her head into the room. “Nat?”
As usual, Nat sat in her wheelchair near the window. “Shae?”
Shae pulled a chair next to Nat’s wheelchair. “I’m here.”
Tears filled Nat’s eyes, and she gripped her hand. “They told me...” She drifted, obviously having difficulty thinking of which words to use. “Lee...”
“I’m going to take you to see him.”
Though infirm, Nat’s grip tightened. “He’s alive?”
“Very much so,” Shae said in as much of a reassuring voice as she could muster. “He’s in critical condition, but you know how pig-headed he is. He’ll pull through.”
The wetness of Nat’s tears spread to her cheeks. “I knew you would come.”
Shae took a tissue from the nightstand and wiped Nat’s face. Damn Russ for being right. Although her relationship with Lee had changed, she couldn’t deny what had gone before. “I’ve never stopped caring for you or him.”
More tears. “Thank you.”
Shae wheeled Nat toward the door. On their way out, she said a silent prayer that not only would Lee be alive by the time they arrived, but that his condition had improved.
* * *
In a morphine haze, Lee was semi-conscious of people filing in and out of the room. Police officers, some he hadn’t seen in years, since he had been on patrol duty. All of them sent their best wishes. They were like a tribe. When one of them was down, all shared the pain. He felt the camaraderie only understood by those who lived behind a badge.
Shae visited. Even while drifting in and out of the drug-induced fog, he saw that she fought the tears.
“Damn you, Lee. You said you were more likely to be hit by a truck.”
Had she really uttered the words? Aware of why she had divorced him, he hoped Russ could give her what he had been unable to—a stable life. She deserved it, and he held no animosity that she had sought it.
What of Phoebe? He’d bring her the same grief, if he loved her. Too late, he already did.
Vaguely cognizant of a feeble form in a wheelchair beside the bed, he struggled to lift his head. “Mom?”
She hushed him to take it easy, as if he had skinned a knee, and he lowered his head back to the pillow.
“Lee, there’s something I must tell you.” A fragile but loving hand touched his. “You already know that your father and I couldn’t have children of our own. We were at the age where we should have been thinking of grandchildren, but when the hikers found a toddler in the woods... well, it was like having a gift delivered from God. I tried my best to teach you about your heritage, but I had no guidance...”
“You did your best.”
She hushed him again. “I need to finish, or I may lose my nerve. I was so happy to have a child of my own, but I was angry too. Angry at the woman who had left you to die alone in the woods. Our attorney knew a compliant judge who got you labeled as abandoned. I didn’t want to lose you. After the media circus died down, we stopped looking for your birth parents. I let my anger rule, and we rushed the adoption through. Over the years, I began to think about your birth mother. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have responded to the newspaper reports or gone to the police, but what if there was some reason that had prevented her? Maybe she was sick and never saw the reports. Maybe she was injured. Lots of maybes. And what if she hadn’t found out about you until it was already too late? You know how they seal adoption records. If she did abandon you, may the Lord have mercy on her soul, but I can never forgive myself if there was a legitimate reason that I separated a mother from her son.”
Lee had difficulty focusing on his mother’s wrinkled face.
She patted his hand. “Please, don’t hate me.”
“Mom...” But he couldn’t break the dizzying effect of the morphine.
When Lee woke, she was gone. He was flat on his back. Sound asleep in the chair beside the bed, Phoebe rested her head in her arms. She had on the green dress that she had worn to the party. How long ago? A week? Or a month? He couldn’t recall. She wore the arrowhead he had given her. When he was on his feet again, he’d have to buy her a real
necklace.
Exhausted beyond anything he could imagine, he stretched, then clenched his teeth against the pain. He reached a hand toward Phoebe’s reddish-blonde curls. “I thought of you before...”
Her eyes opened, and tears of joy filled them. “I was afraid that I might lose you as I had Lightning Storm. Right now, you’re not to worry about anything but getting better, and I shall tend you.”
He liked the sound of that and hugged her close.
* * *
Shae hadn’t planned on visiting Lee in the hospital again, but circumstances required her presence. When she entered the room, Phoebe and a nurse were helping him into a wheelchair. “I’d like to speak with you,” she said.
He looked in her direction. “You’re always complaining to me about no ‘Hi, how are you?’”
“Alone, please.”
He nodded, and the others left the room. “I presume your visit is about Phoebe.”
“She’s left Colwell House. What’s gotten into you? She’s not ready for the world.”
He shifted his weight in the wheelchair and grimaced. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Her tutor has agreed to work with her at my place, and I’ll show her what she needs to know.”
“Of all the asinine...,” Shae muttered, attempting to keep her temper in check. “Are you certain you didn’t break more than your leg? You used to think rationally. Have you given any thought as to how she’ll manage when you return to duty?”
“I’m on extended medical leave. I won’t be going back to work for several months.”
“And you just avoided the question. I had to call in favors to get her into Colwell House—”
“She promises me that she’ll keep in contact with her friends there.” Shae opened her mouth to protest, but he continued, “Shae, this is none of your concern.”
“The hell it’s not. Phoebe is still my patient.”
“I thought you had said she canceled her appointments.”
“Lee...” She held up her hands in surrender. “I only want what’s best for Phoebe, okay? Nothing more. In my professional opinion, I think it’s too soon for her to move out of Colwell House, but if both of you insist on this, I’d like to work with you to help make it a smooth transition. Can we agree on that point?”
His features softened. “We can.”
“Good. Then can you please try to get her to return to her appointments?”
To this, he agreed.
“I do wish the two of you the best of luck, but it’s not going to be easy.”
“Tell me—what in life that’s worth pursuing is easy?”
He had a point, and her shoulders sagged. “Call me sentimental or unprofessional, but I don’t want to see either of you getting hurt.”
“Your concern is appreciated.” His face contorted.
“And don’t pretend you can hide that you’re in pain.”
He caught his breath. “Is this an ‘I told you so,’ doctor?”
She gaped at him in disbelief. “I wouldn’t be that cruel. I thought you knew me better than that.”
His gaze met hers. “I do. Forgive me.”
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
“Definitely. And I’d like to thank you for bringing my mother.”
“You’re welcome. She’s always treated me well.”
His face clouded in thought.
“Don’t judge her harshly,” Shae said. “She did what she thought was best for you and her.”
“It’s nothing like that. I had often wondered if there were things my parents hadn’t admitted to. So my adoption was one of the many that falls into a gray area, legality wise. Minimum waiting period, an all-too-willing judge ready to label a woman an unfit parent, even though most of the facts are unavailable, and she’s forever shut out of her child’s life. Nothing ever changes. Why didn’t my mother tell me before now?”
“For a cop, you can be dense sometimes. What usually keeps people from revealing the truth?”
Fear. He nodded in comprehension.
“I’ll get Phoebe.” She turned and said, “I expect to see you walking soon. The wedding is in August.”
“I may be on crutches, but I’ll be there.”
She left the room.
Phoebe waited outside the door. “Are you angry with me, Shae?”
“Of course not. I know how much you love him. Phoebe...” Shae caught herself. Let Lee talk to her. “Lee’s waiting for you.”
Phoebe’s eyes sparkled before she vanished into Lee’s room.
Shae had no doubt that Lee was in good hands. If only she could worry a little less about Phoebe.
* * *
54
Phoebe
Upon taking up residence in Lee’s apartment, I began by seeing that he was resting comfortably in bed, and then I set about to straightening up the clutter by picking up the clothes thrown across the divan. Aft finishing that task, I placed empty ale cans in the recycling bin. Meg had told me that bachelors were oft messy. My experience had been that ’twas true of men from any century.
Throughout the day, Lee ne’er complained of pain, but he woke in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. I held him ’til he finally slept. In the morn I phoned Meg. She and Carol brought me to a shop where I could purchase herbs. The few I had grown at Colwell House were unready for harvesting. Used to growing my own, I expected a visit to an apothecary, but the shelves were lined with bottles, jars, and packages. Teas and salves were already formulated, overwhelming me on how to choose the best medicines.
Confused by the labels and unable to read them in their entirety, I had the women assist me. I failed to comprehend the twenty-first century physicks—the remedies prescribed from the doctor seemed to hinder Lee’s wellbeing more than they aided him. The yellow dandelion pictured on a bottle made my initial selection an easy one. I would make a tea to aid his digestive woes. I then proceeded to choose comfrey, sarsaparilla, and lobelia. The powdered roots would make a poultice for the swelling in his leg.
Though I searched the many shelves, I could find naught to relieve his pain and became distraught that I was unable to locate a suitable remedy. Carol assured me that she would drive me to another shop, as Meg needed to return to her daughter. Aft taking my purchases to the sales counter, I carefully counted out the currency, as Liz had shown me. I mistook a nickel for a dime, and Meg shook her head. I checked one more time, found the dime, and Meg nodded.
Afterwards, we returned Meg to Colwell House, but the next shop produced the same results. In defeat, I got into Carol’s car.
“Listen, Phoebe. I might be able to help.”
I raised my head. “Do you know of yet another shop?”
“No, but...” She withdrew a plastic bag containing dried herbs and handed it to me. “You can have this if you don’t tell anyone where you got it from.”
I inspected the bag. The leaves had distinctive jagged edges.
“Do you recognize it?”
“’Tis bangue.”
“Whatever. Can you use it?”
“Aye. I can simmer it in butter and add it into soup. Why could we not find it in the shop?”
Carol twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “They must have been out of stock. It’s popular for pain relief, and stores are always running out.”
Though I detected hesitation in Carol’s voice, her answer made sense. Satisfied that I had what I needed to make Lee comfortable, I told Carol to return to his apartment.
* * *
Once again, I was a prisoner in my home. Bess tended to the wounds upon my back, but the scars of my being failed to heal. I had lost many loved ones—Lightning Storm, Dark Moon, Little Falcon, even Henry. Poppa locked the gate, instructing the guards to not allow me outside the palisade. Cut off from Momma and Silver Eagle, I feared I would not have been able to carry on if it had not been for Elenor.
With Henry presumed dead and having no male heir, his land was bequea
thed to me. If I had truly understood the meaning of my newfound wealth, I could have ordered Poppa to leave the plantation, but having been raised Arrohateck, I failed to comprehend how land could be bought and sold. With each passing day, I went aimlessly about my chores, as I had always done whilst Henry was at sea.
On a cool day the following May, I performed my morning ritual of bathing in the spring. Upon completing my task, Poppa stood afore me. Immediately, he averted his eyes, and I pulled on my shift.
“Phoebe, I wish you would wear your shift when you bathe.”
I finished dressing. “’Tis the way of the Arrohatek.”
He grumbled under his breath about the futility of daily bathing, but his usual lecture of how I would burn in hell if I didn’t mend my heathen ways wasn’t forthcoming. Instead, he glared at me. “I’ve decided to return you to England.”
“I shall not go!”
“You have no choice in the matter. I am your father, and as long as you remain here, you’re at risk of running off to the Indians.”
“I vow that I won’t run off if you will allow me to stay. Virginia is my home.”
“I’ve reserved passage for you and Elenor.” He put his arms loosely about me. “I only want what’s best for you.”
Amongst the Arrohatek, I had been taught to honor my elders. Though I had been borne from this man’s seed, he was not my father. I could not bring myself to reciprocate his hug and vowed to myself that I would somehow escape with Elenor.
* * *
55
Shae and Lee
Relieved that Phoebe had rescheduled her appointments, Shae had listened to the progression of her story with interest. “I’m pleased you’re seeing me again.”
“Lee thought it best,” Phoebe acknowledged.
Thank goodness she’d had that chat with Lee. “How is he doing?”
“He doesn’t bemoan his injury, but he is melancholy. He doesn’t know how to ‘take it easy.’”