Mick shook his head and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, as if to brace him for what was to come. “It’s Heather, son. There’s been an accident.”
Connor’s knees buckled as he tried to make sense of what his father was telling him. It was eleven o’clock in the morning. She should be at work. What kind of accident could she have in a quilt shop, for heaven’s sake? “I don’t understand. Did she fall off a ladder or something like that?”
“She was in her car, Connor. She skidded off the road and hit a tree. The roads are slick today because of the rain, but I don’t know if that had anything to do with it or not. Kevin didn’t mention that.”
“Kevin? What does he have to do with this?”
“I’ll explain in the car,” Mick said. “We need to go.”
Connor tried to sort through what his father was telling him, but the words just didn’t make any sense. Individually he recognized them, of course, but he couldn’t seem to grasp the implication. His father regarded him with sympathy.
“Are you okay?” he asked as Connor suddenly sank onto the closest chair. “Want me to get you some water? Or maybe Joshua has something stronger in his office. I’m sorry to come in here and just blurt this out, but we need to get on the road.”
Connor shook his head to clear it. “I don’t need anything. I’m fine,” he insisted. “Is she…?” He couldn’t make himself complete the question. He settled for asking, “Where is she?”
“She’s at the hospital now, but we need to get there fast. Trace is waiting outside to drive us. Your mother and sisters will meet us there. Gram’s going to look after little Mick.”
The rallying of the troops scared Connor as much as anything. Tears welled up in his eyes. “She’s going to be okay, right? They said she’ll be okay? Come on, Dad, don’t sugarcoat this. I need to know what to expect.”
“Let’s just go,” Mick said, urging him toward the door. “I’ll tell you everything I know on the way to the hospital.”
Outside, Trace was waiting for them, the motor running. He gave Connor a quick sympathetic glance, then focused on driving. Connor felt as if he were going to crawl right out of his skin unless he got answers fast.
“Dad, talk to me. What the hell happened?”
“Kevin happened to be on his way to work. He was on the road right behind her. He said some driver coming from the other direction on the two-lane road swerved into their lane. It was right out at that curve by Miller’s Creek. I’ve been complaining for years about it being a blind spot, but the state’s done nothing about it. Heather apparently didn’t see the car till the last second. She tried to avoid a collision, skidded off the road and hit a couple of trees.”
“Oh my God,” Connor whispered, envisioning it all. How could this be happening, especially now, when they had a real chance to work things out? “Did Kevin say…?” He swallowed hard. “Did he say if she’s going to be okay? Come on, Dad. He knows this kind of stuff. He must have said something.”
Mick avoided the question. “Just concentrate on the fact that your brother was right there on the scene. She had a trained EMT with her starting treatment even before the ambulance arrived. You know your brother, Connor. He has years of experience with trauma injuries. There’s no question, he did everything he could.”
All Connor heard was what his father hadn’t said. The evasion hung in the air until he couldn’t stand it another second. “Dammit, Dad, is she going to live or not?”
Mick shook his head, his expression helpless. “I don’t know, son. I just don’t know.”
And with those words, Connor knew that his life could very well be changing forever. “Please give me another chance,” he prayed silently. “Please, God. I’ll do it her way this time. I’ll get down on my knees, propose, the whole nine yards. Just let her be okay.”
He remembered how Kevin had barely gone through the motions of living when Georgia, Davy’s mom, had died in Iraq. He doubted he’d be any better at being a single dad than his brother had been during that terrible time.
“My son needs his mother,” he whispered.
“I know, Connor,” his father said, giving his hand a squeeze. “The whole family’s praying that he’ll have her for years to come. That you both will.”
But even with Mick’s reassurance and as he himself prayed, Connor wondered if after all the church services he’d missed, the mistakes he’d made, God would even hear him.
At the hospital, they found Kevin and the rest of the family in the emergency waiting room. Connor went straight to his brother. Thanks to his EMT experience and his tour of duty in Iraq, Kevin, as Mick had said, knew trauma injuries as well as any doctor around. Moreover, he’d be brutally honest about what lay ahead.
Connor stood in front of him and held his gaze. “How bad is it, Kev?”
Kevin returned his gaze unblinkingly. “Bad,” he said quietly.
Connor tried to hold back a gasp of dismay, but a sob seemed to be wrenched from somewhere deep inside him. Kevin nudged him into a chair, then hunkered down in front of him.
“Tell me,” Connor pleaded.
“She has a pretty severe head injury, more than likely a grade three concussion since she was unconscious. Maybe worse,” he told Connor, his tone straightforward. “I was focused on trying to get the bleeding to stop, but she probably has a couple of cracked ribs from the airbag, and it looked as if her right leg got jammed under the dashboard. I’m pretty sure there were breaks in her tibia and fibula, just below her knee. I didn’t try to move her. I didn’t want to make anything worse. There’s no way I could tell about internal injuries. Her pulse…” He shook his head. “It wasn’t good, Connor, but the EMTs took her vitals and said she was hanging in there during the ride over here.”
“Was she conscious?”
“In and out for a couple of minutes, then unconscious.”
Connor nodded. “What’s happening now?”
“The trauma docs are assessing her, probably taking a CT scan or an MRI of her head. I imagine she’ll be in surgery before long, once they can prioritize which injuries they need to focus on first and determine if any of her internal organs were injured.”
Connor stood up. “I need to see her. Where is she?” He spotted the double doors to the treatment area and headed in that direction. Kevin stepped in front of him.
“Don’t,” his brother commanded. “You’ll only be in the way back there.”
Connor just walked right past him. “There are things I have to say, things she needs to hear in case…” He couldn’t bring himself to complete the thought.
Before he could push his way through the doors, Megan appeared at his side. “Connor, sweetheart, listen to your brother. There will be plenty of time for you to say all the things you want to say,” she assured him. “Let the doctors do their job. Right now, saving Heather’s life is the only thing that matters.”
Mick joined them. “Why don’t you and I go for a walk?” he suggested, putting his arm around Connor’s shoulders.
“I’m not leaving here,” Connor said, regarding all of them with defiance. “Not until we have answers, not until I’ve seen Heather for myself.”
“I’m not suggesting we go far, just get some air,” Mick coaxed. “You need to hold it together for Heather and for your son. We could be here a while. Someone will come for us if anything changes, right, Kevin?”
“Absolutely,” Kevin said. “I’ll get you myself.”
Connor didn’t want to leave, but sitting around in this cold room filled with plastic chairs and frantic people would only increase his anxiety.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go,” he murmured and followed his father into the courtyard outside. He paced for a few minutes, but the frustration of not having any real information finally got to him.
“Dammit, I need answers,” he said.
“And you’ll have them,” Mick promised. He settled onto a concrete bench, then patted the spot beside him. “Come on and sit here beside me.” When Connor had comp
lied, Mick met his gaze. “Did you know what a difficult time your mother had the night you were born?”
Connor blinked at the information. “What are you talking about? I never heard anything about that.”
“You were a breech birth, and it wasn’t going well. I was in the delivery room, freaking out, and then they made me leave. I thought I was going to go out of my mind waiting for information. Your uncles sat out here with me, trying to convince me that everything was going to be fine, but that was just a bunch of words. After all, what did they know? Thomas had never fathered a child, and Jeff only had Susie back then. I swear that kid popped out like she was in a hurry. Not a bit of trouble. Susie’s birth was just as easy as Abby’s, Kevin’s and Bree’s. I should have known that night what a handful you were going to be.”
Connor felt the faint curve of a smile on his lips. “Susie hasn’t changed much. She’s still in a hurry, and she’s never caused anyone even a moment’s grief.” His smile widened. “Except maybe Mack.”
“Yeah, those two are quite a pair, aren’t they?” Mick said. “What’s with spending every spare second together and still swearing they’re not dating?”
“They’re both delusional, that’s all,” Connor said.
Mick shook his head. “Crazy, if you ask me. Anyway, my point is that waiting around when someone you love is injured or ill may be one of the toughest things you’ll ever have to do, but you get through it, son, because you have to. People are counting on you to be strong. Heather needs that. So does your son.”
“I know,” Connor said, dragging his hand through his hair. “I’m just no damn good at waiting. I need to be doing something.”
“Then how about this,” Mick suggested quietly. “You need to think about calling Heather’s family. They’d want to be here.” Before Connor could tell him to forget it, Mick held up his hand. “Look, I know there have been some differences there, but we’re talking about her mother and father. They have to know what’s happened. It’s only right.”
“Heather wouldn’t want them running over here acting all concerned after the way they’ve rejected her and our son,” Connor protested. “And frankly, they’ll be none too pleased to hear the sound of my voice.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mick insisted. “At times like this, families put differences aside. Whatever they decide, you need to do the right thing and at least give them the option of being here for their daughter. I can have Ma or Megan call them, if you don’t want to. Just give me a phone number.”
Connor thought about what his father was saying and deep down, he knew the call had to be made. He also knew he had to be the one to make it.
“I’ll do it,” he said eventually.
“You have their number?” Mick asked.
Connor nodded. “It’s in my cell phone. You go on back with the others. I’ll call and be there in a minute. If you find out anything, if the doctor turns up, come and get me.”
“Or I can wait with you,” Mick offered.
“No, I swear I’ll make the call. You don’t have to stand over me the way you did when I slugged Timmy Frost and you made me call to apologize and stood right there until I did it.”
Mick smiled. “Don’t think I didn’t figure out that you were holding down the disconnect button the whole time,” he said.
Drawn out of his despair by the memory, Connor laughed. “You knew?”
“Of course. I’d have done the same thing. Why do you think I drove you over to Timmy’s house right afterward and made sure you actually spoke to him face-to-face?”
“I thought that was just part of my punishment,” Connor admitted. “It was humiliating.”
“You learned your lesson, though, didn’t you?” He squeezed Connor’s shoulder. “Now make that call. I’ll be inside.”
Connor paced around the small courtyard, ignoring the patients and family members sitting on the benches on the pleasant morning. He dreaded making this call, not just because of the news he had to impart, but because he feared Bridget and Charles Donovan wouldn’t react as loving parents, but as the two judgmental people who’d hurt Heather so deeply.
Finally, knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he placed the call. The phone rang several times before Bridget Donovan picked up.
“Mrs. Donovan, this is Connor O’Brien,” he said, then heard her gasp of dismay. “Please don’t hang up. There’s something you need to know. It’s about Heather.”
“What about her?” she asked, the question tentative. “We haven’t spoken in months.”
“I know that, but it doesn’t really matter right now. She’s been in an accident. She’s in the hospital over here in Maryland. I’m still waiting for word on how serious her injuries are, but it’s not good. I just thought you and Mr. Donovan should know.” He hesitated, then added, “If you want to fly over, I can make the arrangements and have someone pick you up at the airport.”
“She won’t want us there,” she said, sounding sad.
“Right now, all that matters is that she be surrounded by everyone who loves her,” Connor said. “Please, come. I know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“It’s…it’s that serious?” she asked in a choked whisper.
“It is,” he said. “Please, come.”
“We’ll drive,” she said decisively. “In the end, that will be faster than trying to arrange for a flight. I doubt I could get Charles on a plane, anyway, not even for this. Tell me where you are.”
Connor filled her in. “Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said and gave him the number.
“I’ll call you the minute I know anything more,” he promised. “And you take down my number in case you have any questions or need directions or anything.”
“We’ll be there by tonight. Shouldn’t take more than eight hours or so to get there.” She hesitated, then added, “Thank you for calling, Connor. I’m sure it wasn’t easy after the way we’ve treated you both.”
“That’s not important now,” Connor said.
“Can you tell me something before I let you go? Were you in the car with her?” she asked.
“No, she was alone. She was on her way to do some shopping, according to my mother.”
“Then—” she began, hesitated and then asked “—the baby? He wasn’t with her?”
“No, she’d left him with my mother.”
“Thank God for that,” she murmured.
“Hurry, Mrs. Donovan.”
“We will, and don’t you worry. Heather’s strong. She’ll bounce back from this. Just you wait and see. We’ll see you soon.”
Connor disconnected the call, relieved to know that the Donovans would be here in a few hours. Mick had been right. This was no time to let ridiculous squabbles, which seemed insignificant in light of the situation, keep them away from their daughter.
Bridget Donovan was a large, raw-boned woman who arrived alone, looking as if she were one step away from falling apart. Connor reluctantly crossed the waiting room to greet her.
“Where’s Mr. Donovan?” he asked, steering her toward one of the hard plastic chairs.
“He refused to come,” she said tightly. “Stubborn old coot. How is she? How’s Heather?”
“She’s in surgery,” he said. “But the doctors are cautiously optimistic. She had a serious concussion, and there’s some swelling of her brain, but they’re going to relieve the pressure. They think she’ll regain consciousness after that.”
Mrs. Donovan sketched the sign of the cross over her chest. “She hasn’t been awake in all this time?”
Connor shook his head, trying to hide his own panic over the same information.
“Anything more?” she asked.
“They didn’t find any internal injuries, just a couple of cracked ribs, but there are two serious breaks in her right leg, so they’re going to put a metal rod in the worst one. She’ll be in a cast for a couple of months, they said.”
Mrs. Donovan paled a
t his words. “Oh, my poor child,” she whispered.
Connor regarded his mother with relief when she joined them, sitting down next to Mrs. Donovan and introducing herself.
“You must be exhausted,” Megan said. “Why don’t I take you down to the coffee shop and we can have some soup? Someone will come to get us if there’s any news. I think we have a long night ahead of us.”
Mrs. Donovan looked too dazed to refuse. As Connor mouthed, “Thank you,” Megan led her out of the waiting room.
“At least she didn’t shoot you on sight,” Kevin said, sitting down next to him. “I was expecting fireworks.”
“Oh, there will be plenty of time for that,” Connor said, being realistic. “I think she’s in a state of shock right now, just like I am.” He met his brother’s gaze. “Kevin, tell me the truth. Do people recover from injuries like this? I’m talking about the head injury.”
“All the time,” Kevin assured him. “She’s lucky it wasn’t anything more than a severe concussion. She’ll probably have a few headaches, but since there wasn’t any hemorrhaging, her symptoms should be minimal and short-lived.”
“Then there’s not going to be any…you know?”
“Brain damage?” Kevin said, voicing the words Connor hadn’t been able to bring himself to say. “She should be fine, Connor. Of course, there’s no way to know if there will be any long-term effects until Heather’s awake and can be fully tested, but there’s every reason to be optimistic.”
“Then the odds are in her favor?” he persisted.
“If I were a betting man, I’d take them,” Kevin told him. “Come on, bro, keep the faith. Heather’s going to be back to her feisty old self in no time. You’ll be longing for the days when she wasn’t in your face.”
Connor managed a half smile. “I look forward to that.”
“Then focus on it,” Kevin said.
It was another three hours, nearly midnight, when the surgeon came in and told them that Heather was in recovery and that he was satisfied that things had gone exceptionally well in the operating room.
“It’ll be awhile before she comes around, even under the best conditions,” he told them. “Go home and get some sleep. This is just the beginning of what could be a long recovery. The ribs will heal on their own, but that right leg of hers is going to take awhile to mend.” He looked to Connor. “Any questions?”
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