URGENT CARE

by Alexander, Hannah

  Had he truly seen a flash of light showing Mitchell’s face in all the confusion before everything else happened? If Mitchell had been the one who hit him and if he had suffered a similar fate, then...

  “Mitchell?” His head and back throbbed in response to his effort. Calling did no good anyway. He could barely hear his own voice over the rush of floodwaters.

  Cold air pricked his flesh and crept beneath his wool suit coat. He shivered and the pain attacked. In agony, he cried out again, losing his concentration, losing control of his thoughts completely as the torture took over his body as surely as if someone were beating him to death.

  He could not endure the pain and he allowed it to take him back down into darkness.

  ***

  “No. Thanks anyway, Helen...”

  Jessica’s voice drifted through the screen door onto the front porch of the parsonage, where Lauren stepped into the light that streamed across the welcome mat. Lauren had just raised her hand to knock when Jessica strolled into the living room from the kitchen, caught sight of her, and gestured enthusiastically for her to enter while she continued to talk on the phone.

  “I think it’s wonderful that you want to call a prayer meeting and I’m sure Archer will appreciate it, too.” She pushed the screen door open for Lauren. “But I need to stay here at home in case he shows up or tries to contact me.” She met Lauren’s gaze. “Yes, I know he could just as easily turn up at the church, but I’ll take my chan—” She signaled for Lauren to wait and then paced back toward the kitchen with the cordless phone. “Thanks for the offer, Helen, but someone is already here with me. If you and Mr. Netz want to open the church for prayer, feel free.”

  As Jessica continued to reassure her caller that everything was fine here on the home front, Lauren tried hard not to eavesdrop. She stood at the open door, staring out through the screen at the pools of light that spilled down from the streetlamps.

  “Yes and thanks again, Helen. I’d better see to my company.” Jessica hung up and gave a weary sigh as she reentered the living room. “Hi, Lauren. I guess you got my messages?”

  “Actually, no. Grant was at my house when I arrived home tonight and he told me about Archer.”

  Jessica gave a quiet sigh and joined Lauren at the screen door to stare out into the night. “Grant was worried about you, too.”

  “I was fishing all day. I never dreamed anything like this was happening.”

  For a moment, as if in unspoken agreement, they stood side by side watching the silent street out front. A moment later Jessica sniffed and Lauren realized she was crying.

  Tentatively, Lauren squeezed her arm.

  “I don’t know how they do it,” Jessica whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  Jessica dashed a hand across her face. “How do pastors’ wives keep their Sunday school faces? I can’t do it. I’m an awful pastor’s wife.”

  “According to whom?”

  Jessica made a face. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I just want to see Archer come walking in that front door. All day today when I haven’t been out searching for him or on the telephone I’ve been standing here desperately hoping that the next car I see will be Archer’s, and that he’ll come leaping up onto the front porch with a perfectly logical explanation about why—” her voice faltered—”about what happened to him last night.”

  “I’m praying for that to happen,” Lauren said. “He might just be stranded somewhere. I think that’s very possible, especially with the flooding.”

  Jessica sighed. “It’s what I’ve been telling myself. The phone’s been ringing all afternoon—people offering to search, offering to come and sit with me, mostly church members. Most people would want company in a situation like this. But for me it’s like being on stage constantly.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have just come barging in like this,” Lauren said, “but I thought you might need some moral support and when I tried to call you the line was busy.”

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “Just remember you’re not on stage with me and if you don’t want company I’ll bar the door for you.” She took Jessica’s hand and squeezed gently. “Just remember you’re not alone. Have your father and sister been in touch?”

  “Yes. Dad and Heather both helped search this afternoon but Heather’s taking the show for me tonight and Dad went home to take care of the livestock.” Jessica brushed fresh tears from her face. She closed the heavy oak door and locked it. “Lauren, this afternoon Heather and I overheard some people talking.”

  “About what?”

  Jessica sank into the sofa, picked up the pillow, and fingered the lace edging.

  “Did they try to drag my name into it?”

  Jessica closed her eyes, nodded.

  “Honey, your husband has never in our adult years shown any interest in me whatsoever except as a friend and a member of his congregation.”

  Jessica slid her gaze toward Lauren, gave her a tentative smile. “Adult years?”

  “Boyhood crush. He got over it in a hurry when I caught him and my brothers, Roger and Hardy, swinging on a rope from the barn loft into a pile of hay when I was thirteen and Archer was eleven. I gave them all Dutch rubs and grounded them until my parents got home.”

  Some of the tautness eased from Jessica’s face. “What’s a Dutch rub?”

  “Well, to give an effective one you catch the little criminal’s head in a half nelson and scrub his scalp with your knuckles. I always gave the best and I have the callouses to prove it.” Lauren held her hands up and wiggled her fingers. “Don’t worry, it never left a scar. I don’t think it would constitute child abuse.”

  Jessica relaxed a little more then turned to gaze out the window, as if afraid to stop watching for Archer. “As the hours go by I have more and more trouble convincing myself Archer’s okay.”

  “Give it more time. The flooding is pretty widespread right now. I’ve heard stories about some folks out in the country who will be stranded for days.”

  “Others have told me the same stories,” Jessica said. “I’m depending on it.”

  “Good. Now, I came prepared to spend the night and don’t think of me as company. Go about your usual routine if you can and just forget I’m here. I’m a nurse, I know how to keep my mouth shut—at least, about important or private things—and I can help you answer the front door and the phone. But if my company’s going to bother you, just let me know and I’ll—”

  “Oh, thank you.” More tears trickled down Jessica’s face. She blinked hard and reached for a tissue. “I didn’t know if I was going to be able to face another night alone.”

  “How long since you ate?”

  “It’s been... I don’t know. I haven’t had an appetite.”

  “Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen while I raid your fridge and see what I can find.”

  “I can fix something if you’re—”

  “Jess, you need to get your mind off this nightmare for a while. Watching me try to cook could be a great distraction. Let’s go see what you’ve got. Meanwhile we can keep on praying.”

  “I’ve given up on that. Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

  “I won’t tell a soul. I’ll do enough praying for both of us.”

  Lauren figured she couldn’t go wrong heating the contents of a can of soup on the stove and Jessica devoured it as if it were a sumptuous feast.

  She spread peanut butter over a cracker and gave it to Lauren. “So you heard the rumors about you and Archer last summer.”

  “Yes. I was devastated.” Lauren broke a corner from the cracker and put it in her mouth.

  “It’s one thing I have against small towns. Sometimes it seems as if everyone knows everyone else.”

  “They do.”

  “And they’re willing to believe the worst.” Jessica made another peanut-butter-and-cracker sandwich. She had mixed strawberry-flavored milk for both of them. She took a sip of hers. “Even people who should know b
etter.”

  “That’s one of the drawbacks, I guess. But that familiarity is also one of the blessings.”

  “I didn’t think much of the blessing last summer when Mr. Netz called and asked me point-blank why I’d broken the engagement with Archer.” Jessica stirred her milk with the straw until it foamed. “Turns out he’d heard the same stupid rumor and he was pumping me for details.”

  Lauren took a long swallow of the strawberry milk and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I almost quit the church over it until I realized that would make things look even worse.”

  “Can I make a confession?” Jessica asked.

  “Sure.”

  “I was so jealous of you last summer I could have strangled you a few times.”

  Lauren thought about that for a moment and then smiled. “Wow. I wish I’d known.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “For a very short time last summer,” Lauren said, “I did develop a sort of crush on Archer. Please believe it wasn’t reciprocal and at the time I didn’t think anyone knew except Gina.”

  “A crush?” Jessica asked.

  “That’s all it was. It had a lot to do with his being the only familiar face in town and the fact that I was longing for a husband and family and my biological clock was ticking down. I was so humiliated by the rumor and by the implication that several people were willing to think that of me and of Archer that I just wanted to go crawl in a hole somewhere and die. It really hurt my feelings.”

  “And if you’d known I was jealous of you, that would have made you feel better?”

  “That someone as beautiful and talented as you would consider someone like me to be a rival?” Lauren shrugged. “I wouldn’t have wanted you hurt but in a way, yeah, it probably would’ve soothed my ego.”

  Jessica finished her milk and pushed away from the table. “Well then, you’ll be glad to know that it was probably my jealousy of you, more than any other single factor, that made me realize how much I loved Archer.”

  “I hope you also realize how much he loves you.”

  Jessica twirled the straw around and around in the empty glass. “Tell me something, Lauren. How do you feel about Grant?”

  “I’m crazy about him.”

  “And Brooke and Beau?”

  “Them too.”

  “Does that mean you love them? That you’re ready to become a part of the Sheldon family?”

  “Funny you should ask. I’ve been thinking about that same question all day. All week, actually.”

  “Want to know what I think?”

  Lauren nodded.

  “Don’t put it off. Loving someone and knowing he loves you is one of the most wonderful experiences in the world. I didn’t realize quite how wonderful until today. Now I’m terrified that it may be too late to tell Archer.”

  “Oh, Jess, don’t think like—”

  Jessica raised a hand to stop her. “I was afraid to marry Archer because I knew how devoted he was to his church and I was afraid I’d come in last in a contest for his time and attention.”

  “I know he’s been busy lately.”

  “Yes, and all this time I’ve felt as if it were a competition—me against the church. Everything I feared before I agreed to marry him has happened, but I’m still so glad I married him, and...” Her voice cracked and she looked down at the table. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t come home, Lauren.”

  “Why don’t we do some more praying,” Lauren suggested. “Have you ever heard about the ‘Please God’ prayer?”

  Jessica shook her head.

  Lauren reached for a napkin and handed it to her. “A friend of mine, Dr. Mercy Bower, explained it to me once. She said if all you can say is, ‘Please God, please God, please God,’ then say it. He knows. And He answers. He’s right here with us and he’s right there with Archer wherever that is.”

  Jessica reached across the table and placed her hand over Lauren’s. “I’m so very glad you came.”

  ***

  Archer opened his eyes in the darkness and listened to the chatter of water nearby. There was a tiny rivulet trickling about a foot from his head. He reached out to it, allowed some of the water to trickle into his palm, and brought it to his lips. He slurped at it thirstily and then reached for more. It could be contaminated but it shouldn’t be as bad as the river. If he got sick he got sick. He had to have fluids or he would die for sure.

  At least the rivulet wasn’t trickling over him. In fact, he was protected here from the wind, which seemed to attack the treetops with a roar from time to time. He was also partially protected from the rain by the cliff ledge and by the trees overhead. The temperature had risen. Although Archer felt chilled from time to time, it could have been worse.

  It frustrated him that he couldn’t at least shuffle his way up the cliff side to the road, where he would quickly be found, but the pain was too great. He would just focus on trying to stay alive.

  Chapter Twenty

  Early Sunday morning Jessica walked into the dining room to find Lauren dressed in her purple print scrubs for work, zipping a small denim backpack that served as her purse-carryall.

  “Lauren, if you ever need a place to stay, a shoulder to cry on...if you ever need a friend, you’ve got one.”

  Lauren flashed that typical broad McCaffrey grin and drew her into a hearty embrace. “Thanks, so’ve you. Take care of yourself today, will you? And call me at work if you hear anything. Even if I’m busy at the time I’ll return the call as soon as possible.”

  Jessica wished she could hold on to Lauren and keep her eyes closed and imagine that they were high school buddies after a sleepover. “I promise.”

  “If you want someone to come and stay with you today we can call the church—”

  “No.” Jessica stepped back. “Thanks, Lauren. I’ll be okay. I’ll be in and out today probably looking for Archer every second I’m awake.”

  “I know you haven’t learned to trust the church,” Lauren said gently. “Sometimes that’s a hard thing to do but you can trust God to place the right people in your path.” She picked up her backpack and draped it over her shoulder. “I’ve found that most people have good hearts around here. Maybe they’re not always the ones who try hardest to control the church, and maybe they aren’t the most outspoken, but they’re out there—you just have to find them.”

  “I’ve found one for sure.”

  “Do you need someone to stay with you tonight?”

  Jessica hesitated. She didn’t want to impose on Lauren again. “I’ll be fine.”

  “When are your in-laws planning to arrive?” Lauren asked.

  “They’re on their way but they’re flying home and then here so they might not get here until tomorrow. Last I heard they were still working on a flight out of Mexico City.”

  “I’ll come straight here when I get off work tonight.”

  Jessica knew she should refuse, of course. Lauren had a life of her own and she didn’t need to baby-sit. “Thank you. I would really appreciate it.”

  Lauren put a hand on her shoulder. “Lord,” she said, eyes raised to the ceiling, “please protect Archer today and bring him home safely. Please be with Jessica—lift her in your love and never let her go.”

  That was it. No amen. No typical closing. It was as if those two sentences were just a small section of ongoing prayer with Lauren.

  Another hug. Another pat on the shoulder and Lauren left with a promise to be back that night.

  ***

  For the second morning in a row, Mitchell completed the unfamiliar tasks of cooking breakfast for his daughter, checking the hallway every few minutes as he waited for her to come in. She’d kept to herself in her room after that disaster of a meal last night and he was relieved. How was he supposed to converse with her?

  He patted the bacon to keep it crunchy—whether that worked or not he didn’t know because he never cooked bacon for himself. Darla had done so from time to time—it seemed like centuries ago.


  Mitchell glanced outside and saw bright blue skies and sunshine—not a threat of rain. He laid his paper towels down and stepped to the dining room window, caught in the confusion that had nagged at him last night.

  Pink dogwood blossoms trailed over his neighbor’s privacy fence, teasing a vague memory. But why? From where?

  He touched the knot on his forehead. Though tender, it wasn’t as swollen as it had been yesterday.

  He shrugged away a shiver of unease, blinked, and shook himself. This worry about the Envoy was most likely for nothing. Surely last night’s insomnia was only another sign of the paranoia that had attacked him at unexpected times the past couple of weeks—maybe even a backlash from his conflict with Trisha at dinner.

  Would he ever be able to sleep again if he tried to cut back on the drug?

  A door closed softly somewhere in the house and he turned in time to see the stranger who was his daughter drift into the room. She wore a pair of faded jeans so filled with holes she might as well have worn a swimsuit. Her T-shirt was black with red paint spattered all over her chest to look like a gash and bloodstains.

  He nearly asked her if that had been her Halloween costume last year.

  “Hungry?” he asked instead.

  She nodded and sat in her chair, not looking him in the eye.

  “Bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns.” He caught himself watching her face for some sign of life, some vestige of interest. Her skin was so pale, so bloodless, her eyes empty of hope.

  She drank her juice and grimaced. He had noticed that yesterday. She ate as if she was hungry but she showed no enjoyment in the food. It could be she didn’t like his cooking or his menu choice.

  “Maybe I need to get a list of things you like to eat,” he suggested. “I don’t do a lot of cooking.”

  She gave him a brief glance and shook her head. “That looks good. I like bacon.” As if to justify her point she reached for a piece of bacon and stuck half of the slice into her mouth. “Better food than I’ve had in a long time.” But she still chewed and swallowed as if she were eating sawdust.

  He filled a dinner plate with the food and set it before her. “Not to nag, but you could stand to gain some weight.”