Magnolia Storms

by Janet W. Ferguson

  Spit it out all ready. The not-knowing needled at Maggie’s composure, but she had to be strong for the family.

  “Worst case scenario?” Cammie managed to squeak out.

  “We’ve already avoided the worst case because you’re alive.” His words were slow and calm. “No extensive internal injuries. But you could possibly have to adjust to life in a wheelchair.”

  A whimper came from Cammie, but she blinked and kept her face expressionless.

  “There are advances being made in research and technology.” His voice was kind and full of hope. Did they teach that in medical school? Most doctors she knew weren’t this good at it. “Meanwhile, my patients in wheelchairs get around well, some even drive. They live good, productive lives.” He stared into Cammie’s eyes, which flooded with tears. “Today, focus on healing, keeping still. Let the swelling go down, then we’ll work on the rest.”

  At least the doctor had a good bedside manner while delivering the blow. Cammie needed to focus on the positive. Maggie took her sister’s other hand. “We’ll pray for the best and prepare for the worst.”

  If their past held any indication, they could expect the worst.

  The cogs of Maggie’s mind whirred, returning to the storm. How long before she could get them all out of here and safely inland? The storm surge had reached the first floor of this hospital during Katrina. She turned to look at the doctor again. “What about the hurricane? Can we evacuate her?”

  “The hurricane’s still pretty far out.” His fingers slid across the dark stubble on his chin. “I don’t think we need to worry about the storm right now. The hospital has protocol set up for that kind of thing.”

  Not worry about the storm? She might need to check into his academic credentials. Had he not lived here during Katrina?

  “I’m keeping her in ICU for at least five days so we can keep tight control of her blood pressure and to make sure we salvage as much spinal cord tissue as possible. Staff will check her every hour.” His gaze turned to Cammie. “Buzz the nurse and have her call me if you feel a sensation in your legs. Tingling, pins-and-needles sensations. Anything of that nature.”

  A tiny nod seemed to be all her sister could summon.

  “I want to stay here with her.”

  “Visiting hours are limited so the patients can rest. Staff will keep a close eye on her, and I’m on call. You may as well go home with your niece. As a parent of a ten-year-old daughter myself, I would suggest waiting a few days before bringing her in.” He took a step toward the door. “I’ll leave you two alone for a minute.”

  “Thank you.” Cammie mustered a tired smile, and he nodded and stepped out.

  The weight of the situation crashed into Maggie’s heart, ramming against the old scars of grief and loss residing there. She swallowed hard against the emotion thickening her raw throat. She had to be strong for Cammie. For Dahlia and Aunt Ruth. “What do you want me to tell Dahlia and Aunt Ruth?”

  “Nothing.” Cammie sniffled. “I need to process.”

  Didn’t they all? “I’ll feed everyone, get Dahlia ready for bed, and come back to spend the night in the waiting room. See if they’ll let me in.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “Not negotiable.” If there was a way to get back here and check on things, she’d find it.

  Her sister’s eyes fluttered again. “Josh will have to make other arrangements.”

  “How in the world—?”

  “Not now.”

  “Okay.” But she would like to know how the current arrangement came about.

  “Talk to Josh, and get it over with.” Cammie took a slow breath and let her chestnut-colored eyes close all the way. “There are bigger issues to deal with than who hurt who when you were eighteen. Time to be adults.”

  Whoa. That stung. Cammie definitely needed some space. “I’ll tell him to make other arrangements.” And when Cammie was better, she could explain how she ended up becoming a nanny for Josh Bergeron’s kid.

  ON THE WAY HOME, JOSH alternated between fear, sadness, worry, and another emotion that caused him a sea of guilt. Anticipation. He was going to see Maggie again.

  He tried to ignore the way his pulse ramped at the thought. What would she look like in person? Since his divorce, he’d looked her up a time or two on social media. She still had those beautiful dark curls. His chest expanded at the thought.

  He was an awful human being for being the slightest bit happy that Magnolia Marovich had been forced to come back to the Coast because of an accident.

  In the hospital parking lot, he glanced in the mirror, lifted his baseball cap, and ran his fingers through his hair. He was a mess from the inside out. Oh well. He’d gotten here as fast as he could. That should count for something.

  He jogged toward the entrance. Of course, Maggie had texted exact instructions on where to find them. Once inside, he went straight to the elevator and pressed the button to get to the floor with the ICU waiting room. His heart knocked against his chest when the doors opened. How would Maggie take it if something terrible happened to Cammie? Of course, something terrible had already happened, but if... He couldn’t let himself go there. This family always meant so much to him, and they’d been through too much sadness already.

  God, please heal Cammie.

  He started at a quick pace down the hall.

  “Josh Bergeron?” A redheaded nurse caught hold of Josh’s arm. “You made it back fast. Is my husband with you?”

  Josh turned and focused on the nurse’s face. His coworker’s wife. “Hey, Angie. Only me. Graham should be home soon, but I hauled it.” Angie and Graham had been good friends to him and J.D. after the divorce. She’d taken his son on a number of outings with their boy Conrad and often invited them both to dinner. “How’s Conrad?”

  She craned her neck, scoping out the area. “Conrad’s fine—still a handful, but what are you doing here? Is J.D. okay?”

  “Yeah.” Of course, she’d be worried. “My babysitter was injured, so I hightailed it back to get J.D.”

  “Oh, no. Cammie’s a patient here?” Her green eyes widened with concern. “What happened?”

  “Right, you two graduated together.” Where was his mind? Stuck on Maggie, of course. He hated being the bearer of bad news. Especially about the Marovich family. “She was hit by a truck.”

  Angie’s hand went to her heart. “I pray God helps that poor girl. She never catches a break. Who’s watching J.D. and Dahlia? Her aunt Ruth can’t do it.”

  “Maggie’s here.” Just saying the words unearthed the raw emotions he’d worked so hard to bury.

  “Ah, Maggie.” Angie clucked her tongue and bobbed her head. “Y’all were a pretty hot item back in the day.”

  He wasn’t touching that one. Josh shuffled his feet. Why did everyone feel the need to bring up their disastrous past?

  “Are the kids here with Maggie? I can take J.D. home. Dahlia and Ruth, too, if they want. My shift’s over in fifteen minutes. Conrad would love to have J.D. over to play as long as you need.”

  “I couldn’t put you out, plus I just got home. J.D. probably won’t let me leave his sight, and I can’t speak for the others.” And Maggie would likely send him packing.

  “You won’t put me out.” Determination set her angled chin. “I’ll follow you, and we can see.” Angie touched his forearm. “You know I hate what Trisha did to you and J.D. It wasn’t right. How any mother could—”

  “Water under the bridge.” He didn’t want to throw thoughts of his wayward ex-wife into the tempest already forming.

  “So, Maggie’s here now, taking care of everyone?” Angie’s eyes fished for more information. “A lot like her grandmother. The woman could cook a mean batch of fried oysters, but her temper and that evil eye she could give when we got out of line intimidated me.”

  He chuckled at the memory of the sturdy Cajun woman. “Yeah, her grandmother scared me, too.” And now, so did Maggie.

  They wound around the halls un
til they neared the waiting room. Josh’s pulse accelerated. More than it had during the tanker exchange on high seas. Long dark curls came into view by the doorway. Maggie held J.D. in her arms. A swell of emotion tore through him, blasting open tender wounds he’d worked so hard to heal. Something about that picture of his son on Maggie’s hip looked so right, yet swamped him with regrets. If only...

  “Daddy!” J.D.’s shout jerked Maggie’s head his way.

  Her eyes spoke volumes. The depths of the sorrow there crushed his throat, suffocating, submerging him in the past. Then those eyes blazed, and she gently let J.D. down.

  Prying his gaze from her, Josh bent to scoop up the little form running to him. He swung J.D. around. “Ahoy, mate. Give your daddy a kiss.”

  Slobbery lips pressed against Josh’s cheek. “Daddy, we’re going to eat supper at Chick-fil-A. Wanna come?”

  “I do like their chicken.” Josh’s eyes bounced from Maggie to Angie standing beside him. “I bumped into Angie in the hall.”

  Angie greeted Ruth and Dahlia with side hugs. “I hated to hear about the accident.” She turned to Maggie and took a cautious step. “Hi, stranger.” She hugged Maggie, then stepped away. “Long time no see. I’m so sorry about Cammie. Let me take everyone to eat, and then J.D. can come home with me for a while to play with Conrad. I’ll drop off Ruth and Dahlia at their house, too.” She held out her arms to J.D. “Want to?”

  “Can me and Conrad play ships?”

  His son was sure quick to abandon him.

  “Of course you can, buddy.” With a broad grin, Angie tweaked J.D.’s nose. “I think we’ve bought some new ones since you were over last.”

  Maggie shook her head, dark curls bouncing. “You don’t need to do all that. I can take Aunt Ruth and Dahlia home and come back to spend the night with Cammie.” An edge of steel laced her measured answer.

  “I insist.” One of Angie’s thin eyebrows raised. “You and Josh need to talk.”

  Oh right. Josh held in a chuckle. Angie’d always been a bit of a firecracker, too, but she was no match for a Marovich.

  A harsh laugh came from Maggie. More like flames whooshing from a dragon. “No. We do not.”

  “Yes. You do.” She nodded toward J.D. “About Cammie’s condition and what’ll happen when Josh goes back out in two weeks.”

  Josh watched the exchange. It was like two warships preparing for battle. Should he get involved? Keeping his mouth sealed might be the smartest approach. And the safest.

  Chapter 4

  MAGGIE’S HANDS FISTED. If she weren’t in a hospital and standing near children, the sick, and the elderly, she’d scream at the top of her lungs. A few times. Or twenty. She did not want to talk to Josh Bergeron. Why didn’t anyone understand that the man reminded her of everything she’d lost? Her dreams of love, marriage, and a family? Her love of home on the Coast, her childhood on sea and shore? And with Josh working as a pilot like her father...plus the fact he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him most. He hadn’t even left school in New York to come to her father’s memorial service.

  Yet, there he stood with his hair the color of sand and his stupid big eyes with alternating shades of blue sky and water. Melting her heart again.

  No. She wouldn’t let him.

  Angie’s mere mention of his job shredded through Maggie’s raw emotions like broken shells under bare feet. The reckless career of piloting ships had ripped her father from her life. Ripped away her sense of security and peace. Almost ripped away her faith.

  Josh was brilliant. He could’ve picked any profession—any place in the world. Not that piloting ships from all over the world didn’t take brains. But her father had taken Josh in like the son he’d never had. He’d taught him about the tides, the winds, the obstructions in the water. Passed on his passion for the sea. Then Daddy had disappeared into the Gulf he loved so much, leaving her family heartbroken smack dab in the middle of the most destructive natural disaster in the history of the United States.

  Though exhausted with the heaviness of the day’s emotions, she summoned her strength to continue the battle of wills with Angie. “We can talk later. There are too many variables. No one has to decide the future right now. Besides, I heard Josh lives next door, for goodness’ sakes.” She couldn’t stop the eye roll or the scoff.

  Dahlia pressed her hands to her hips. “Let’s eat already. I’m starving.” The attitude again.

  “Me, too.” J.D.’s small voice battered against Maggie’s resolve.

  “Let me help out, Maggie. You can’t do it all by yourself.” Angie made a dramatic wave.

  Maggie bit her tongue. Who did that Angie think she was? Some kind of matchmaking counselor? The girl hadn’t seemed like such a meddler in high school.

  Her gaze skimmed from Angie to J.D.

  Angie, she could tell no, but not the children. “Y’all go on and eat. I’ll see you in a little while.” Maggie lowered her voice and turned back to Angie. “And if you really want to help, someone can figure out how to get Aunt Ruth’s car home...” Aunt Ruth sure didn’t need to drive after dark.

  “Graham and my dad can do it.” Angie gave an understanding nod. “No problem.”

  Maybe Josh would take the hint and leave with them. But she had promised Cammie she’d speak with the man. She may as well get the talk over with. Groaning inside, Maggie stepped toward him.

  Years ago, she’d begged Josh to shift his dream away from piloting. In turn, he’d begged her to accept his career choice. They’d both refused to budge. Hoping the other would finally give. Neither did. He’d clung to his beloved Merchant Marine Academy in New York, discarding her, while she’d grieved the loss of her father. The last thing she wanted to do was relive that misery.

  THE OTHERS DISAPPEARED around the corner, and Josh battened down his emotions. Hurricane Maggie. Blowing back into his life. The storm that swept him up and capsized him every single time he thought of her.

  Suddenly, she was beside him, smelling like the sweet Southern flower that was her namesake. After over a decade, she looked even more beautiful than she had before, if that were possible. More like a woman than a teen. But where once she’d been a spirit so alive, so strong, sadness now shrouded her eyes, her posture. The image cut deep into his heart. He’d failed her when she’d needed him. Hurt her almost as brutally as Katrina had.

  “Everyone wants us to talk. Let’s get it over with.” She avoided looking directly at him.

  Lord, help me be a comfort rather than a burden. “Can we get a bite of supper downstairs?” As soon as she got some food in her, he’d ask about Cammie. But it was clear Maggie was barely upright. She needed fuel and rest first. “Neither of us have eaten. From what I remember, you got...” Why had he started that sentence?

  “I got what?” Her eyes seared him.

  May as well dive into shark-infested water. “You got cranky when you were hungry.”

  “Me? Cranky?” Her hands went to her hips in a movement exactly like Dahlia’s had done moments earlier. “You were the grumpy one.”

  He dared a partial smile. “Okay, I was, too. We were a lot alike. Stubborn. Tenacious. Neither willing to bend.”

  “I was willing to bend.” She scoffed. “I asked one thing of you. Give up the idea of piloting. Choose any other career somewhere away from the Coast and be with me.”

  “And I asked one thing of you. Support my dream and wait for me.” And her answer still rammed against a tender scar.

  She blew out a long breath. “Good grief. It’s over and done with. No need to relive it.” Maggie mashed her palm to her forehead as if pressing out tension forming there.

  Yep. It had been many years ago. But the pain surging through his chest hurt exactly like it had before. Looking at her standing there, probably going through the same kind of anguish, twisted his judgment, and he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Maggie.” Her name came out in a husky whisper. “When you broke things off, it killed me. I thought you’d...” The word
s tangled on his tongue.

  “You thought I’d change my mind.” Her lips turned down, and she lifted her eyes to his, gaze softening. Moisture pooled near her lower lashes. The longest, blackest lashes he’d ever seen. “And I thought you’d change your plans and come to me.”

  The desire to hold her overwhelmed him. Not giving into the urge left him feeling as if he were drowning, gasping for air, so he took a step back and schooled his expression. “Let’s go eat. I’m getting cranky.”

  A resigned chuckle bubbled from her throat. “Me, too.”

  Down the hall to the elevators, they walked in uncomfortable silence. They both reached to press the lobby button, hands colliding.

  The touch zapped through Josh like a bolt of electricity. “Sorry.” He jerked his arm back.

  She did the same. “You can press it.”

  “Okay.” He extended his hand again slowly, carefully. The silliness of it made him laugh.

  She gave him a curious glance, which made him laugh again.

  “This is crazy.” He nudged her with his elbow. “We’re not teenagers anymore.”

  A begrudging smile lifted her lips, the way he remembered. “That’s basically what Cammie said when I saw her.” Maggie shook her head, causing the mass of curls to brush her shoulders. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

  More than he wanted to admit. “I know I am.” And his fingers itched to toy with her hair.

  Once they’d gone through the food line and settled in a cafeteria booth, Maggie aimed an intense stare at him. “Cammie’s paralyzed from the waist down. We don’t know if it’s permanent.”

  Nausea swept through him, and Josh pushed his tray aside. One more tragedy in a long line of heartbreaks for this family. The unfairness of it all. Bowing his head, he folded his hands. “Lord, please let the paralysis be temporary. Heal your servant Cammie, in Jesus’ name.” The lump in his throat kept him from saying more. His eyes burned as he lifted them back to Maggie.

  A tear ran down her cheek as she stirred the green beans on the tray with her fork. “Amen.”