He remained still. The ground stopped shaking.
Yes, he might very well die here.
***
Jessica pulled into her driveway to see Tony and Caryn Dalton’s car parked at the curb. They stood at the front door, Tony in his police uniform, wearing dark glasses and carrying a white cane.
Jessica jumped from her car and rushed to them with the news she’d just received from the old farmer. “He said he heard a crash Friday night. Do you think it might have something to do with Archer?”
Tony shook his head. “It was probably the bridge itself, Jessica.”
Caryn stepped forward and put an arm over Jessica’s shoulders. “Honey, we came to tell you something.”
The sound of sympathy in Caryn’s voice alerted Jessica. “Have you found Archer?”
Caryn looked at her husband. “Why don’t we go inside and sit down.”
Jessica’s breath caught with panic. “Why? What’s happened? Tell me.”
“Let’s go inside, Jess,” Caryn said.
Jessica unlocked the door and they went in. Tony held a hand out, palm up, unable to see to reach for her.
Jessica took his hand. She felt the strength of his grip.
“I’m sorry, Jessica,” he said. “We found his car.”
“Where?”
“Down in a farmer’s bottom field by the river.”
She looked from him to Caryn in confusion. “That doesn’t sound so bad. He’s always making house calls. Maybe—”
Tony shook his head. “It was in the water, Jessica. That bottom field is a flood plain.”
She felt the dizziness creep around her again. “But what about Archer? Did you—”
“We didn’t find any sign that he was in the car when it entered the water,” Tony said.
“Then that could mean he got out and walked...” She focused on Tony’s face, imagined the steady, unseeing gaze behind the dark lenses.
“Anything’s possible at this point, Jess,” he said. His voice betrayed him. Jessica heard a tone of finality and horror. Tony and Archer were so close…
The dizziness struck her again. Blackness edged her vision. She felt weak. Her grip slid from his and her body seemed to surge forward.
“Honey, catch her, she’s fainting!” Caryn’s arms tightened around her to keep her from falling and Tony grabbed her awkwardly. Together they helped her to the love seat.
Jessica heard the clatter of footsteps entering her kitchen and the swish of water from the tap. She felt Tony’s hovering presence as he continued pat her shoulder.
Caryn knew the Pierce kitchen from several visits and dinners together. She returned quickly to the living room and placed a wet towel over Jessica’s face and neck. “Jess? You okay, honey?”
The cool moisture revived her. She looked at Caryn. “Who found the car?”
“Some fishermen found it earlier this morning about a mile south of the washed-out bridge. SAR has been called in.”
Jessica took the wet towel from Caryn and sat up. SAR—search and rescue. “The bridge. Yes. That was one of the places I searched this morning. I thought he might have...” Again, the darkness. The nausea. She had to concentrate to control her shaking. “Does the car look like it might have been caught in a flash flood?”
“We don’t have any way to tell right now,” Tony said gently. “We do know the wooden railing of the bridge was knocked off but that could have been from a passing tree limb when the river overflowed the bridge. The driver door is missing from the car. Judging by the time Archer was seen leaving the hospital, it’s possible he reached the bridge sometime past the point of the initial flood, but we just don’t know.”
Jessica leaned back and closed her eyes again. The nausea threatened to overwhelm her.
Caryn pressed the back of her hand against Jessica’s forehead. “Honey, are you still feeling faint?”
“I feel sick.”
“We need to get you checked out by a doctor.”
Jessica shook her head. “I’ll be okay. I just want to get back out and look for Archer.”
“When’s the last time you ate?” Caryn asked.
“Lauren McCaffrey slept over last night and she made sure I ate before she left for work.”
“In that case,” Tony said, “we’re taking you to see a doctor right now. It’s probably just a reaction to the stress but if you’ve eaten there might be something else going on here.”
***
Voices came gradually through the heavy mist that surrounded Archer.
“Nothin’ out here this morning. Didn’t think there would be. Everybody says he probably went off the bridge. That’s where we oughta be lookin.’ “
“Lots farther down, too, if you ask me.”
There was the gentle whir of a trolling motor and the voices drifted away. “We’ll go on down a couple miles.”
“Yep, always been a strong pull south of the bend...”
The voices echoed over Archer’s head as if in a dream. They sounded remote, as if they came from the far end of a long pipe.
His eyes flew open to the gray sky. He tried again to sit up and fought the pain. “Help me! I’m here! I’m up here! Please don’t leave me here! Oh, God, stop them!”
He called weakly until he no longer heard the engine across the surface of the river. All he heard was a soft ripple of tiny waves slapping the shore and a distant roar of floodwaters and the blood throbbing through his head. Pain attacked his spine and his vision grew dark, his thoughts unfocused.
He had to get out of here. He pulled his arms to his sides and then tried to push himself up on his elbows. The pain stopped him.
But if he could endure the pain, if he could drag himself into view where someone might be able to see him if they came by this way again, he might see Jessica again.
The earth shifted beneath him. He heard the splash of rocks hitting the river’s surface. The ground continued to shift until it gave way completely in a miniature mudslide. His mouth flew open in a cry of shock as he plunged, head first, into the river.
Water invaded his nose and throat. He tried to kick his way up, but streaks of fire moved up his spine until the agony became too much. His arms fought the water as if in slow motion. He felt himself floating up and thrust his face toward the air. He broke the surface as his mouth opened in a gasp.
Choking, spitting out water, fighting for breath, he allowed the current to carry him downriver, praying he wouldn’t be crushed between a log and the rocky cliffs along the shore, praying he wouldn’t drown.
***
Jessica laid her head against the pillow on the exam bed and caught a flash of purple in the periphery of her vision as Lauren stepped into the room with her chart.
“Jessica Pierce, are those muddy hiking boots I see? And look at you, your hair is wet.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Lauren grabbed a blanket from a nearby cabinet and spread it over Jessica’s shoulders. “Went looking for Archer? I guess I’d have done—”
“They found his car.”
Lauren’s movements halted. Shocked silence hovered for only a moment before she shifted the blanket and patted Jessica’s shoulder. “Where?”
“Down in a bottom field, washed there by the flooded river.”
“Was it empty?”
“No sign of Archer,” Jessica said. “They’ve called the search-and-rescue people in.”
Lauren gave a soft whistle.
“Lauren, you know what this means, don’t you?”
“Sure do. It means they’re narrowing the search.”
“It means Archer could have been caught in the flood and washed downstream with his car,” Jessica said. “He could be—” She couldn’t say it.
“It means they’re narrowing the search, Jess.”
Jessica felt the chill deep in her gut, felt it wash outward with a wave of trembling.
Lauren took her hands. “If Archer were here he’d tell me to get you checked. That�
�s what I’m going to do.”
Jessica allowed Lauren to give her a complete nursing exam. The human touch, human concern, and very Lauren-like human warmth and constant chatter soothed the sharp edges that had begun to fray out there on the lonely search this morning. Maybe there was something, after all, about calling on others in time of need.
Grant joined them as soon as Lauren completed her exam. He ordered an EKG, had Lauren establish an IV, and had her draw blood for a chemistry panel, a complete blood count, and a serum pregnancy test.
“Pregnancy?” Jessica asked weakly. “You think I could be—”
“It’s just routine, Jessica,” Grant said. He, too, had a comforting bedside manner. “With the stress you’ve been under I know you don’t need anything else to worry about right now but I’d like to check you out and make sure you’re okay before we send you home. Lauren told me the news about the car and that’s probably what caused you to faint. Can you tell me if you had been feeling dizzy or nauseated before this happened Friday night?”
Friday night seemed a whole lifetime ago. “Maybe a little.”
Grant continued to question her.
“I really think I’ll be okay,” she said. “If Archer does come home and I’m not there—”
“If he arrives home and you’re not there you can be sure he’ll find you here, Jessica.” Grant placed a hand on her shoulder and gently guided her back against the pillow. “You relax and let us take care of you because if we don’t, Archer is going to have our hides when he does get home.”
***
Grant called Lauren into his office barely twenty minutes after Jessica’s initial tests had been taken. He held the results up for her to see.
Her lips parted and her green eyes widened. “Pregnant?”
“Don’t say anything yet. I’ve asked Lab to run a quantitative before we tell her so I can let her know immediately that the baby’s okay and how far along she is.”
“You have doubts about the viability?”
“Just because she fainted, that’s all. I want to rule out a tubal. She’s had a bad enough time of it—I don’t want her to have to wait for more test results. I’ve put a stat order on this one but wait for a few minutes before you go back in to see her.”
“Why?”
“Because she’ll take one look at you and know something’s up.”
“No she won’t. I’m a professional.”
“You’re too close to this case. I can tell you’re upset about them finding Archer’s car.”
“So is Jessica and she needs someone with her who understands.” There was a catch in her voice and Grant could identify with her emotion.
“Forgive me, Lauren, but we can’t afford to think about that right now.”
“Tony and Caryn are still in the waiting room. I’ll have Caryn brought back to sit with her.” She looked at the results again. “I can’t imagine being in Jessica’s situation.”
“Nobody wants to think it could happen to them.”
“But it could. It’s a scary thought.”
He watched her for a moment. Was she implying that she didn’t want to take a chance on the same type of thing happening to her?
“I’m also wondering how it must feel to be pregnant,” she said.
“I think you should consider being married first.”
To his surprise, she gave him a teasing grin. “Is that an offer?”
“That depends. It would make my second proposal in less than a week.”
“I’m thinking about it, Grant. Believe me, it’s all that’s been on my mind.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” He heard the churlishness in his own voice and was disappointed by his own lack of professionalism.
She frowned at him. “Are you still upset because I went to Jessica’s alone last night?”
“I’m trying not to be upset at all. I just never realized the decision would be such a struggle for you.” In fact, he couldn’t help wondering if she’d already decided and was waiting for the right time to let him down gently. But then why bring it up? Why tease about it?
His daughter’s paranoia was affecting him big time. He should listen to Beau more often and to Brooke less.
But he felt an increasing irritability. He recognized it for what it was—hurt feelings left over from yesterday’s conflict. “You said you wanted children, ticking clock and all that, but I’d think you’d enjoy the children you’d already have. I realize you’d never dreamed of a ready-made family with two teenagers, but—”
“Two wonderful seventeen-year-olds whom I love, you know that, but loving someone and living with them on a full-time basis are two entirely different things, Grant. Completely. I’m talking major impact here—”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture.”
“If you were honest with yourself and with me you could be a little more compassionate about how daunting that would be to you if you were in my position. If I marry you, not only will I be gaining two teenagers, but I’ll also be competing with the very real memory of their mother. Your wife.”
He frowned at her. “Why bring Annette into it? She’s been gone for three years.”
Lauren shook her head. “Not really.” Her voice softened. “She’s still alive in your hearts, Grant. I’m sorry. Right now I’m asking myself if I have the strength to compete with a ghost who still has that much power over you. The kids talk about her all the time and until recently I loved hearing them talk because I truly have always admired Annette from the stories her family cherishes about her.”
“Then what’s changed?”
She turned away but not before he saw the sheen in her eyes. She stepped to the window that overlooked the broad hospital lawn. “I got possessive. I started wanting that family for myself and I realize I could never have them, not completely. I couldn’t live up to that reputation.”
Oh, Lauren. He didn’t know what to say, because in a way she was right. Annette had been the love of his life for over twenty-one years, counting the years of grief after her death. Every time he looked at Brooke or Beau he saw their mother. He, too, had always enjoyed being able to talk to Lauren about Annette.
Would that change?
He should have been more sensitive to her feelings. “Lauren, you always encouraged us to talk about her. It was one of the things that’s helped all three of us heal. Your compassion was also one of the things that drew us to you.”
“Have you considered the possibility that you haven’t healed completely?” she asked.
An overhead announcement blared through the speaker with a page that didn’t concern them and Grant saw Lauren’s shoulders straighten. He knew without seeing her face that she was reminding herself sternly about where they were. When she turned around her professional demeanor was back in place.
“Joanne Bonus is in four with both her sons.”
“Both?”
“That’s right. Last I saw, Kent was holding the baby. I can’t believe the change in that kid. I’ll go check with the lab about Jessica’s blood test. And for the record, Jessica would be more suspicious if I didn’t go back in and see her.” She brushed past Grant and out the door before he could say anything. And he didn’t know what to say.
He followed her out. They had patients to see.
Chapter Twenty-two
With charmed surprise, Grant studied the chart for Clayton Grant Bonus. Joanne had named her baby after the two doctors who had delivered him—Clayton was Mitchell’s middle name, if Grant wasn’t mistaken. It would be interesting to see Mitchell’s reaction.
Grant noticed the chief complaint was merely, “Fussy, won’t eat.” At least the baby didn’t have a fever.
He entered the exam room and greeted Joanne, who sat on the bed alone. Kent sat in the chair in the corner, thick arms cradling the infant as if they had been fashioned for one another.
“It appears to me there’s one young man who might make good daddy material someday,” he said to Kent.
&
nbsp; Joanne gave him a distracted smile.
“Joanne, you say Clayton is fussy but I see he’s content while he’s being held. When does he fuss?” Grant settled into the other chair with his chart.
“Well, he acts like he’s hungry but then when I try to feed him—I’m breast-feeding, you know—he can’t quite get ahold. Get my drift?”
“Are you saying he has difficulty with suction?”
“There you go.” She gestured to her older son. “See there, Kent, I knew the doctor’d know what I meant.”
Kent rocked the baby in his arms, face turning pink. “Uh, sure, Mom.”
Grant made some notations. “How long has he been this way?”
“Just the last day or so. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow and take a chance he’d get worse.”
“Of course.” He questioned her a little further and then did a physical exam under the older brother’s watchful eye.
It wasn’t until Grant checked the baby’s mouth that he found something questionable. He gently scraped the tongue with the tongue blade to check if the whitish coating scraped off easily. It didn’t. The baby squirmed and cried.
Grant removed the blade and otoscope. “Joanne, when were you last able to feed him?”
“Haven’t tried for at least an hour.”
“He isn’t on any antibiotics, is he?”
“No, why? What’s wrong?”
“How about you?”
“Yeah, Mom,” Kent said. “You are. You know—for that sinus infection.”
“That’s right. I forgot to tell the nurse about it but it’s just stuff left over from a bladder infection I had when I was carrying Clayton. They okayed it for pregnancy. I needed the pills for an awful old sinus infection that just keeps hanging on.”
Grant was relieved. “I’m pretty sure I know what the problem is and it isn’t serious.”
“You won’t have to give him a shot will you?” Kent asked.
“Not if this is what I think. Have you ever heard of thrush?”
Blank stares.
“Normally there’s a balance in our mouths between good bacteria and a type of fungus called Candida albicans. When something kills off the good bacteria, such as an antibiotic, the fungus grows unchecked and causes a painful white coating over the mouth and gums. Commonly, we call it a yeast infection.”
URGENT CARE Page 21
