by Terri Reed
Trista knelt in front of her brother and put her arms around him. Her heart twisted with anguish at seeing her brother so distraught.
He hugged her close, his tears soaking into her blouse. “She slid into a ditch. The baby’s coming.”
Trista nodded and stroked his hair, much the way he’d done with her when she was young and needed his comfort.
Ross pulled himself together. His face had seemed to age with his terror. “Someone needs to call Sandra Lange, Kelly’s mother.”
“I’ll do it,” Naomi volunteered as she rose and went in search of a phone.
Ross’s gaze zeroed in on Zach. “Where’s the car?”
“I had it taken in. We’ll check to make sure this was just an accident,” Zach assured him.
Trista could feel the tension and fear in Ross. “Of course it was an accident. Why would—?” She paused, thinking about the fires, the broken windshield and the threatening notes. “Surely someone wouldn’t try to kill Kelly and the baby.”
Ross stared at her for a moment and she saw that he believed someone had. Shock and paralyzing fear washed over her, mingling with the anguish of knowing they could lose both Kelly and the baby. Her insides twisted with dread of what that would do to her brother.
“Sandra’s on her way,” Naomi stated as she returned, with Scott just behind her.
Trista gasped softly when she saw him. Compassion, so evident on his face, made fresh tears spring to her eyes. He came straight to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.
She rose and without worrying about the consequences, went into his embrace. His big solid frame wrapped around her, shielding her from the pain of what had happened. For a moment she allowed herself to indulge in the comfort he offered. He was so steady and safe.
A man worth hanging on to.
Only…she pulled away. He wasn’t the man for her. He’d made that clear. He was here as a pastor, nothing more.
An aching emptiness replaced his comfort.
She moved to sit on the arm of the chair beside Ross and wrapped her arms around her middle as if somehow doing so would make the emptiness and terror gnawing at her go away.
A tall man in green scrubs approached Ross. His kind eyes surveyed the group. “I’m Doctor Eli Cavanaugh.” He and Ross shook hands. “Both mommy and baby are doing well.”
Sighs of relief echoed through the waiting room. Ross dropped his head into his hands. “Thank you, God.”
The doctor continued, “Kelly’s resting. She suffered a few minor bruises and a broken wrist, which we reset, and should heal quickly. The baby’s small and his lungs need more incubation time, but overall he’s good. He’s a fighter.”
Ross bolted to his feet. “I have a son?”
Dr. Cavanaugh smiled. “You have a son.”
Excited and overjoyed, Trista wrapped her arms around Ross’s waist again and hugged him close. She had a nephew. A playmate for Aidan. She couldn’t wait to see the newest addition to the family.
“Can I see Kelly?” Ross asked.
“Yes, you may,” the doctor replied. “The rest of you will need to wait awhile.”
Ross left with Dr. Cavanaugh and Trista breathed a huge sigh of relief. Eric and Pilar hugged each other and then hugged the Frasers. Scott’s understanding smile wrapped around Trista like a soothing embrace.
Her heart cried out to go to him, but she fought the impulse and turned away, denying herself anything more from him.
Ross sat at Kelly’s bedside watching her sleep. She was the most beautiful, tough and generous woman he’d ever known. If he’d lost her, he didn’t know what he would have done.
Their baby boy lay in an enclosed bed in another room where his little body was hooked up to monitors and machines. He was so tiny and helpless. And even though the doctor assured Ross his son was doing well, he’d wept when he’d seen his child.
Kelly stirred, her eyelids fluttered then opened. She gave him a small smile. “Hi.”
His heart squeezed. “Hi, Mom.”
Her smile grew and her eyes shined. “How is he?”
“Good. The doctor said he’ll need to stay in the neonatal ICU for a while but he’s strong and beautiful.”
“Cameron?”
Ross nodded. “Cameron.”
Kelly closed her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. One second the brakes were working and then they weren’t.”
Ross’s jaw tightened. He forced his voice to stay neutral. “What matters is that you and Cameron are safe now.”
She took his hand. “Yes.”
“I’m going to stop my investigations. The risk to you and Cameron is too great.”
She stared at him. “You don’t think this was an accident?”
“No.”
“You can’t let whoever did this win! The adoptees deserve to know the truth. And we’ll never discover who’s behind all of this if you back off.”
There was a knock on the door a second before it opened and Zach stuck his head in. He gave Ross a quick nod to indicate he needed to speak with him before Zach disappeared, shutting the door behind him.
Ross leaned in to kiss Kelly. “I’ll be back in a few.”
“Hmm. Okay. Be careful,” she replied sleepily.
Ross found Zach waiting for him in the hall. “What’s up?”
His eyes were hard and his jaw set in a grim line. “The brake line had been cut.”
Ross pounded his fist into the wall, startling a passing nurse. “I’m going to find out who’s responsible and when I do—”
Zach put his hand on Ross’s shoulder. “You need to concentrate on your family. Let me take care of this.”
“Like you have with everything else,” Ross barked.
Zach drew back. “Hey, buddy. I’m doing my best.”
Ross blew out a harsh breath. “I know. I’m sorry. This is just too much.”
“We’ll catch the person responsible. The forensic team is thoroughly searching the car and where the car was parked. We’ll canvass for witnesses, see if anyone remembers someone in the parking lot.”
Ross nodded, knowing that was the protocol and if there were any clues the team would find them. He felt so helpless and vulnerable. His family had almost been killed.
“I better get back,” Zach stated. “Oh, and be aware there’s a news crew in the lobby.”
That gave Ross an idea. “I’ll walk you out.”
In the lobby, Ross went straight for the news crew. The reporter, a guy in his late thirties wearing a dark green suit and yellow tie, eagerly asked Ross for a statement.
“Oh, I have a statement all right,” Ross announced. He looked straight into the camera. “Tiny Blessings Adoption agency will never stop searching for the truth and repairing the damage that has been done to so many families. And whoever tried to kill my wife today, I will find you. Then you will pay!”
Chapter Nine
Trista leaned her head against the back of the hospital waiting room chair. Around her the staff of Tiny Blessings, the Frasers and Scott sat chatting quietly. The soft click of heels on the hard surface of the floor drew Trista’s attention.
Sandra Lange, Kelly’s biological mother, and Sandra’s friend Tony Conlon, approached. Kelly had been stolen from Sandra at birth and the two had recently been reunited. Sandra was shorter than her daughter and plump. She’d recently battled breast cancer and was apparently doing well now.
“Please, tell me Kelly is okay,” Sandra said to the group. Her worried green eyes searched them all and landed on Trista.
Trista rose and went to her. “Kelly’s a little banged up, but otherwise good. The baby’s a boy and the doctor said he’ll be fine.”
Sandra sagged with relief. “How did this happen?”
Trista shook her head. “We don’t know yet. Ross is in with Kelly now. I’m sure you’ll be allowed to see her soon.”
Sandra headed to the nurses’ station. Kelly was lucky to have found her mother and to have developed such a close bond. T
rista would always regret that she’d spent so many years angry with her mother and now would never have a chance to bond with her.
When Sandra reached the nurses’ station, a tall African-American male nurse seemed to ask a question at which Sandra pointed back toward the group. The nurse then came down the hall.
“Excuse me. Is there a Trista Van Zandt here?”
“I’m Trista.”
The man waved her forward. “There’s a call for you at the desk.”
Trista followed the nurse. Who could be calling her? No one knew she was here except her boss.
She picked up the phone. “Hello, this is Trista Van Zandt.”
“Trista, it’s Harvey Benson. How’s your sister-in-law?”
Her boss. “She’s going to be okay.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but a Mrs. Angelo called. She wants you to call the nursing home right away.”
Trista gripped the phone as a sudden jolt of dread and apprehension shot through her. “Thank you. I’ll call right now.”
After hanging up, she stood there, her heart pounding, her thoughts racing. Had something happened to her mother? Had she passed on? Trista began to shake.
“Is everything okay?”
She turned to find Scott standing close by. His concerned gaze brought tears to her eyes. She blinked hard to hold them back. “My mother’s nurse wants me to call.”
“Do you want me to call for you?”
His offer was so tempting, but she shook her head. She had to do this herself. “No. I can.”
From her purse she dug out the number for the nursing home. Within a few minutes she was talking to Mrs. Angelo.
“I tried to reach your brother first. Your mother took a fall this morning.”
Trista’s chest tightened. “Is she okay?”
“She broke her hip. She needs surgery, but the hospital needs either yours or your brother’s signature on the consent form.”
With one hand, Trista rubbed at the place between her eyebrows that began to throb. “Which hospital?”
“Bon Secours Richmond Community.”
“I’ll be right there.”
She hung up. Her mother was alive, but hurt. She had to get a message to Ross, but she didn’t want to bother him now. He needed to concentrate on Kelly. She’d tell him later, after Mom was in recovery.
“What happened?” Scott asked.
“My mother fell and broke her hip. I need to go sign some papers so they can operate.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She’d like nothing more than that. “It’s not necessary.”
She headed back to the waiting area. She asked Eric to let Ross know that she’d be back soon. As she headed to the elevator, Scott followed.
“I said I don’t need you,” she stated, wanting so badly to lean on him. But she was strong. She could do this.
“I know. I’m coming anyway,” he stated.
They stepped into the elevator. “Why?”
“Because whether you want to admit it or not, you shouldn’t go through this alone.”
She folded her hands together to keep them from trembling. “I’m fine.”
The elevator doors slid open and she marched to her car. She tried to open the lock with her key, but her hands shook too much.
“Here,” Scott said and took the key. “You’re shaking so badly you shouldn’t drive.” He took her by the elbow and led her to the passenger door. He unlocked the door and held it open. “Get in.”
“When did you get so bossy?” she asked, but was truly grateful he’d insisted.
“I’ve always been bossy. You just haven’t seen it until now.”
He went around to the driver’s side, got in and started the engine.
Resigning herself to letting him take her to her mother, she slid into the seat and shut the door. After giving him directions, she settled back and stared out the side window. First Kelly, now her mother. How much more could she take today?
“Why are you really doing this?” she asked.
“Because you need a friend right now.”
She glanced at him. “So today you’re my friend? Not my pastor?”
“I’m both.”
That was good. She could deal with that, but why did she feel vaguely empty? She told herself she didn’t want more from him, couldn’t ask for more from him. But still…she sighed. Leave well enough alone, girl.
“Has Kevin contacted you again?”
Trista snorted. “No. And he probably won’t. He’ll fixate on something else soon, I’m sure.”
“You’re very cynical.”
“When it comes to Kevin, I am.” Thinking about the years of emotional hurt she’d endured while married to him made her shudder.
At the hospital, Trista asked at the front desk for her mother. The male nurse directed her to the second floor. Once there, Trista and Scott were introduced to a doctor named Corbin Sterns.
“Nice to meet you, Pastor Crosby.” To Trista the doctor said, “Miss Van Zandt, I’m glad you came. Your mom’s stable and we’ve set the fracture, but your mother needs a pin to hold the bone together. It’s unlikely she’ll be able to walk much from here on.
“She’s been in some pain, so we’ve given her a sedative. If you’ll look over these forms and sign them, we can get her into surgery.”
Trista took the forms, read them and signed where appropriate. She handed them back to the doctor. “Can I see her?”
Dr. Stern nodded. “Of course.”
Aware of Scott at her heels, Trista braced herself before entering the sterile room. Her mother lay on a gurney with IVs and monitors hooked up to her arm and an oxygen tube in her nose. She moaned slightly and Trista’s insides clenched with empathy.
Cautiously, she approached the bed. Her mother looked even more fragile and vulnerable than she had the previous week. Trista’s chest ached as she took her mother’s hand, careful not to dislodge the IV stuck into the purple vein.
“Mom. Mom, it’s Trista,” she said softly.
For a moment Trista thought her mother was too medicated to hear her, but then her mother’s eyelids fluttered slightly.
“I’m here, Mom. Ross had to stay with Kelly. She got into an accident but she and the baby are fine. They have a little boy.” Trista’s voice broke. She didn’t even know what they’d named her nephew.
Mom opened her eyes, her unfocused gaze on the ceiling. Trista didn’t know what to do. She felt so inept. She glanced at Scott, who stood near the window. He gave her an encouraging smile and nod.
Turning back to her mother, Trista said, “Mom, can you hear me? Do you know what happened to you? You fell. They need to repair your hip. But you’ll be okay. I’m here and I won’t leave you.”
Mom turned her head, her gaze shifting to Trista. For a moment her gaze remained unfocused, then she narrowed her eyes as if trying to focus. “Trista?”
Relief and pleasure at being recognized clogged Trista’s throat. She swallowed before answering. “Yes, Mom. I’m here.”
Mom nodded. “You’re all grown-up. When did that happen?”
While you weren’t paying attention. Bitter hurt squeezed Trista’s chest, but she forced herself not to respond with words she’d only regret. “Do you know what happened?”
Mom frowned. “I fell. You just told me that.”
Maybe crankiness was a good sign. “Yes. I did.” Trista brushed away a strand of stray hair that had fallen across her mother’s forehead. “You’ll be going in for surgery soon.”
Her mom closed her eyes. “I just want to sleep.”
“I know, Mom. And you can. I’ll be right here.”
“I love you, Trista.”
The air left her lungs in a rush. Tears gathered at the backs of her lids and spilled out. Her throat constricted. “I love you, too.”
Two orderlies and a nurse bustled in. Trista was forced to step away and watch as they wheeled her mother from the
room. Scott’s hand at her elbow startled her. She turned to stare at him with awe. “She said she loves me. I can barely remember the last time she said that. If fact, I’m pretty sure I only wished she’d said those words.”
“Of course she loves you, you’re her daughter.”
She moved away from him. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me,” he said, his voice soft, compassionate.
He’d said he wanted to help. He claimed to be her friend and her pastor. She could use both at the moment. She refused to contemplate what else she needed from him. “My mother was a drunk. My father, too. Ross was more of a parent to me than either of them.” Trista’s gaze shifted to the door her mother had just been wheeled through. “I always wondered what I did that made her not love me. That made her not want to be my mom.”
She glanced at Scott and the pained expression on his face made her quickly add, “I know, I know. I’m not to blame for the actions of my parents. But I’m a product of their actions. Just as my mother is a product of the actions of her parents. Last time I went to the nursing home I saw a photo album that I’d never seen before. One of the pictures was very disturbing. I think my mother had been abused by her father.”
Scott briefly closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
She stared out the window. “Me, too.”
Awareness slipped down her spine as Scott came to stand beside her. “It may be a while before your mother is out of surgery. Why don’t we go the cafeteria and I’ll buy you a cup of hot chocolate.”
She smiled up at him, thankful for his presence. “I’d like that.”
A few hours later, Dr. Stern found them sitting in the cafeteria near the window that overlooked the city. “Your mother is doing well. She’s sleeping comfortably, but she will be out for at least twelve hours. I would suggest you come back tomorrow to see her.”
Relieved, Trista thanked the doctor and then she and Scott headed back to the children’s hospital to check on Kelly. After a brief visit with her and a quick peek at her new nephew, Trista longed to see her own little baby. She said goodbye to Scott and then drove herself to the Chestnut Grove Child Care center.
