A Christmas Promise

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A Christmas Promise Page 2

by K. C. Wells


  “Would I kid you about something like this?”

  Dad huffed. “I’m grabbing my keys. I’m on my way.”

  Micah blinked. “Dad? It’s real late. You should be going to bed soon. Besides, what can you do here? He’s asleep.”

  “Then I’ll nap in a chair until he wakes up. You think I can sleep after this? The guy’s got an envelope addressed to me. Of course I wanna know what this is all about. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  “Hey, drive carefully, okay? The roads are getting icy again.” Micah’s stomach clenched at the thought of his dad veering off the road and into a snowbank. Or worse.

  “Don’t you fret, I’ll be careful. See you soon.” Dad disconnected.

  Micah pocketed his phone and went back into the building. He hurried to ICU and tapped on the glass door to attract the nurse’s attention.

  She opened it. “I thought you’d gone.”

  “Am I okay to come back in?”

  She smiled. “Sure, but he’s still asleep.”

  Micah walked over to Greg’s bed and stared down at him. Who are you? There was clearly a mystery here.

  The nurse stood beside him. “His vital signs are slightly better. They should be able to fix his leg tomorrow.” She glanced at Micah. “You don’t need to stay.”

  Micah took a deep breath. “Thing is, my dad’s on his way here, and it’ll take him at least an hour and a half. So… can I stay? I’ll sit in that chair over in the corner. I promise I won’t be in your way.” Micah did the best impression of Bambi that he could manage, all wide-eyed and innocent.

  The nurse bit back a smile. “You’re cute when you do that.” She sighed. “Okay, fine. But if the doctor comes back and wants you out of here, that’s it, all right?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you…” He scanned her name badge and smiled. “Rachel. Thank you, Rachel.”

  The way Rachel was looking at him gave Micah a sinking feeling he might have overdone the charm. Too bad that sweet expression wouldn’t get her very far. Rachel was definitely not his type, the major black mark against her being the fact that her plumbing was all wrong, as far as he was concerned.

  Rachel beamed. “You’re welcome. You might not be thanking me when you sit for a while in that chair, however.” She left the room, her hips swaying a little more than previously.

  Micah shook his head. Nice girl. Too bad it won’t get her anywhere with me. He sat down in the chair, and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Two

  “Micah. Micah!”

  Micah awoke with a start. “Wha?”

  Dad stared down at him, his hand on Micah’s shoulder. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  Micah sat up straight, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “A little after one. The nurse let me in here.” He held up an insulated cup. “Want some coffee?”

  Micah groaned. “You’re a lifesaver. The stuff from those machines is just nasty.” He flipped open the closure on the lid and inhaled the steaming liquid, before glancing around. “Where is the nurse, by the way?”

  “She just stepped out for a moment.” Dad wandered over to the bed, gazing down at Greg. “Never seen this kid before in my life.”

  Micah took a sip of hot coffee and let out a contented sigh. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.” He got up out of the chair and joined him. “Kid? He’s probably about the same age as me.”

  Dad grinned. “I rest my case.” He went back to studying Greg. “God, he’s skinny. There’s nothing to him.”

  “You sure you don’t know anyone by the name of Chambers?”

  Dad shook his head. “I’m trying to see if he looks like anyone I know, but it’s so hard to tell with all that bruising.” He expelled a long breath. “Still can’t quite believe this, you finding him, and him with an envelope with my name on it. Where is that, by the way?”

  “The nurse outside has it. She said it’s up to Greg to give it to you, if that’s what he wants.”

  Dad sighed. “Then we’re gonna wait until he’s awake. I mean, I know it has to be for me—there’s only one Joshua Trant in Wright, at least as far as I know.”

  Micah chuckled at that. There had to be less than two thousand souls in Wright. Not the smallest town in Wyoming, not even in the top five, and certainly bigger than Buford on I-80, that boasted it was the ‘Smallest Town in America’, with nothing but a single house and a gas station.

  Dad shook his head. “Poor kid. Wonder who did this to him, and why?”

  “He was robbed.” Micah regarded Greg for a moment, taking in the movement beneath his eyelids and the occasional soft whimpers that fell from his lips.

  “Nope, not buying it,” Dad stated emphatically. “Why not just throw a punch and knock him out, then rob him?” He pointed to Greg’s leg, held in traction. “No, son, there’s malice here.” He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand.

  “Here, sit in the chair and try to sleep.” Micah guided him to the corner. “I’ll clear it with Rachel.” When his dad arched his eyebrows, heat spread up Micah’s neck and face. “The nurse, I mean.”

  Dad chuckled. “You had me worried for a moment there. I thought you’d gone over to the other side of the church.”

  “Hush. Get some sleep.” Micah waited until his dad was in the chair before looking around for another. When he didn’t find a spare one, he left the room. Rachel was at the desk, staring at a monitor. She glanced up as Micah approached, and smiled.

  “Aw, did your dad wake you up? You were sleeping so soundly.”

  Micah nodded. “If it’s okay, we’re going to stay until Greg wakes up. Can I find another chair somewhere?” He waited, holding his breath that he hadn’t pushed her good nature too far.

  Rachel hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Grab a chair from the waiting room. Just be sure not to disturb him, okay? He needs his rest.”

  “Of course, and thanks.” Micah went on a chair hunt, and pretty soon he was carrying one back to ICU. Dad was already asleep when he got there, his head supported on his hand as he leaned on the chair arm. Micah smiled to himself as he set down his chair next to Dad’s. He sat in it and gazed across to where Greg was sleeping.

  This is crazy. We’re waiting for a stranger to wake up and tell us what was so important about finding Dad. Micah had hoped Dad would have seem something familiar about Greg, but the state he was in, Micah doubted Greg’s own mother would have recognized him.

  A warm fuzziness stole over him, and Micah fell asleep.

  “No… get off me…. Stop….”

  Micah blinked, not sure if he was still dreaming.

  “I won’t… please… stop.”

  The pain in Greg’s voice was enough to jolt any tiredness from him, and he lunged up from his chair and over to the bed. Greg was frowning, his hands clenching and unclenching on top of the blanket, sweat popping out on his brow, his breathing labored.

  Micah didn’t hesitate. He reached for the button to summon help.

  A minute later, Rachel was at Greg’s side, checking the IV drip and looking at his chart. She quickly took his temperature and gently lifted his eyelids to examine his pupils. Then she disappeared briefly, only to return with a small vial. Micah watched as she injected some of its contents into the IV tube. The result was almost instantaneous: Greg’s breathing evened out and his fists unclenched.

  Rachel gazed at him, stroking his forehead as she checked his pulse.

  “Was he… dreaming?” Micah got the feeling it had been a nightmare. “He was talking in his sleep. Sounded like he was fighting someone off.”

  She sighed. “The pain meds were wearing off. He’ll sleep more soundly now.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five am. I’ll be going off duty soon. I’ll make sure the nurse who takes over knows you’re here.” Another glance at Greg. “He seems calmer now.” She smiled at Micah. “Any chance I can get your number before I go?” Her cheeks were flushed. “It’s not like you’re even related to the patient, so
I wouldn’t get in trouble for asking.” Her eyes sparkled. “Maybe we could go out for a coffee or something.”

  Aw crap. Micah struggled for the words to let her down gently.

  “Sorry, honey, but he’s spoken for. There’s a girl at home, waiting for him.” Dad sounded groggy, but his tone was apologetic.

  “Oh, okay.” Rachel bit her lip. “I thought I’d ask, seeing as you weren’t wearing a ring. Never mind. These days, if you don’t ask, you don’t get, my mom says.” She gave Micah a pat on the arm and left the room.

  Micah waited until he was sure she was out of earshot, before turning slowly to stare at his dad. “There’s a girl at home?” He was trying hard not to laugh.

  Dad shrugged. “That wasn’t a lie. There is a girl at home right now, but cute nurse here doesn’t need to know it’s your sister. Besides, what if you told her you were gay, and she turned out to be one of those haters you hear so much about?”

  Micah had to admire his dad’s thought processes. He gazed down at Greg. “I wonder who he was fighting off?”

  Dad joined him. “Let’s face it, he’s not gonna have just medical issues to deal with. We could be talking PTSD here. Boy could have nightmares about this for the rest of his life.”

  “Aw, don’t say that.” The idea made Micah’s heart ache for Greg.

  His dad tugged on his elbow. “How about you go find us some coffee, while I stay with Greg?” He grinned. “You drank all the stuff I brought.”

  Micah arched his eyebrows. “I think you should try to get a little more sleep while you can.”

  Dad shook his head. “I’m fine. Besides, all I can think about is what’s in that damned envelope.”

  Micah couldn’t blame him for that. He was more than a little curious himself. “Then I’ll go fetch coffee. But you have been warned.”

  “That bad, huh?” Dad let out a chuckle. “I’ll cope.”

  Micah laughed quietly and went off in search of hot liquid trying to pass itself off as coffee.

  “Micah!”

  He woke with a start. “Huh? Did I fall asleep?” He had no idea of the time.

  Dad stared down at him. “Son, Greg is awake.”

  Micah blinked. “Really? Oh. Okay.” He rubbed his eyes and then got to his feet. A new nurse was standing beside Greg’s bed, doing her observations. She smiled as they approached.

  “The doctor will be here shortly, so don’t wear him out, all right?” She gave Greg a last glance before walking away from the bed.

  Micah gazed at Greg. “Hey. Remember me from last night?”

  Greg gave a single nod. “You’re the guy that brought me here. Thank you so much.” He spoke carefully, his mouth swollen.

  “Anyone would’ve done the same,” Micah said with a shrug. “I hope you don’t mind, but the nurse let me go through your jacket. You mentioned an envelope?”

  Greg stilled. “Is it… still there?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, only…” Micah took a deep breath. “The name on the envelope? Joshua Trant?”

  “Yes?”

  Dad stepped closer. “Greg, I’m Micah’s father. I’m Joshua Trant.”

  Greg’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

  Dad nodded. “So, you can probably guess how curious I am right now. We’ve never met, have we?”

  “No, sir.” Greg swallowed. “But… I made a promise to find you. I—”

  “I’m sorry.” The nurse appeared at his bedside. “You’ll have to step outside while the doctor examines Greg.”

  “Can… can they stay?” Greg asked suddenly. “If I say it’s okay by me?”

  “Not really,” she said firmly.

  “Then… what if I give the doctor permission to… discuss my case with them, once he’s seen me? Would that be all right?”

  Micah stared at him, surprised by the request.

  The nurse sighed. “Very well. But they still have to leave.”

  Micah grabbed his dad by the arm. “Come on, let’s go.” He gave Greg a smile. “We’ll be right back, okay?”

  Greg nodded. “Good.”

  Micah led his dad out of ICU. Outside, he leaned against the wall, yawning. “What time is it anyway?”

  “Eight.” Dad shivered. “I was talking to the nurse while you were asleep. She was telling me what they generally do in cases like this. He’ll probably have to have pins and a plate put in his leg to repair the fracture.” Dad scowled. “Makes me wonder, how he got such an injury in the first place. Because she said it looked to her like his thigh got stomped on.” He shook his head. “Kid’s damn lucky the bone didn’t break in two.”

  “That sounds nasty.” Micah peered through the glass to where the doctor and the nurse were standing by Greg’s bed, their expressions neutral. He couldn’t see Greg, however. “Still, he looks better than he did last night.” At least he was talking coherently.

  “You know what worries me? How’s he gonna pay for all this? He’s just a kid. And he doesn’t look like he’s loaded.”

  Micah had reached the same conclusion. Movement caught his eye. “Hey. Doc’s coming.”

  A moment later, the doctor had left the ICU and was standing in front of them. “He’s stable enough for surgery, and the orthopedist has booked the OR, so we’re ready to take him down. It’s a simple enough fracture to repair. We’ll dress the wound, then we’ll fit him with a knee immobilizer before he’s discharged, that he’ll wear while the leg heals.”

  “How long will he be in here?” Dad asked.

  “Seven to ten days. He’ll need physical therapy though, once he’s been discharged.” The doctor smiled. “I’ll be around later to see how he’s doing.” He left them and walked off down the hallway. A minute or two later, two orderlies appeared and entered the ICU.

  “Wow, they don’t mess around, do they?” Dad muttered as Greg was wheeled out of ICU. He managed a single wave of his hand before disappearing out of sight around the corner.

  The nurse came out to speak with them. “They’ve taken him down to the OR. You might want to visit the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat while he’s having surgery. You’ve been here all night, so you must be hungry. But don’t hurry back. He’s going to be in there two hours minimum, and it could be as long as six, once he’s out of recovery.”

  Dad’s face fell. “That long?”

  “It’s difficult to predict. But hey, there’s a visitor’s lounge on the first floor.” She winked. “The chairs are a lot more comfortable than the ones in ICU. If you want to stay, why don’t you go there?” With a friendly smile, she went back into ICU.

  Dad’s belly rumbled, and Micah chuckled. “Good advice. Let’s see what they have in the way of breakfast. A couple of pancakes and some coffee sounds good right now.”

  As they walked along the hallway, Dad gave a backward glance toward ICU. “I sure wanna know what’s in that envelope.”

  “I know, and I’m positive you’ll find out, once Greg’s had his surgery. He’d have probably given it to you just then, if the doc hadn’t showed up.”

  Dad shook his head. “Wanna know something funny? Now he’s awake? There’s something a little… familiar about him, like I’ve seen him before.” He gave a shrug. “Well, I’ll know soon enough.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “I’m starving.”

  Micah rolled his eyes. “When are you not? No wonder Naomi thinks you have a tapeworm.”

  Dad grimaced. “Hey, don’t go saying stuff like that when we’re in a hospital. That’s just plain wrong.”

  He chuckled. “I hope the cafeteria has enough food to satisfy that humongous appetite of yours.” His mind was focused on Greg, however. Micah couldn’t help wondering what the hell was going on.

  Micah yawned as they walked along the hallway to ICU.

  Dad snickered. “Haven’t you had enough sleep?” He counted off on his fingers. “You were asleep when I got here, then you dozed off again…and for God’s sake, you just slept for three hours. I swear, someone
snatched my son and exchanged him for Rip Van Winkle.” Thankfully whatever else he was going to say got cut short when Dad’s phone burst into life. “Oh hell. It’s your sister.”

  Micah snickered. “I’m glad she’s calling you and not me.” Naomi was a worrier, a trait she’d inherited from Mom. Not that he minded all that much: it was like Mom hadn’t truly gone.

  Except of course, she had.

  Micah pushed the thought from his mind, and glanced across at his dad. It suddenly occurred to him why Naomi was calling. She had to be going out of her mind, since neither of them had called home.

  “Naomi, I’m fine.” Dad caught Micah’s glance and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I agree, I should have left you a note, but I was in a hurry, and I forgot.” He sighed. “Yes, I know one of us should have called, but… we fell asleep.”

  Micah heard her snort from three feet away.

  “Look, I’m fine, Micah’s fine. Remember I told you he found a guy by the roadside last night, all beat up? Well, we’ve just got a call to say he’s out of surgery, and we’re waiting to see how he’s doing… Yes, we’ll both be home later. How about you get some of that soup you made last weekend out of the freezer? We’ll have that when we get home… Yeah, sure, I’ll tell him. Later, sweetheart.” He disconnected and huffed out a breath.

  “Sounds like she was giving you the third degree,” Micah remarked with amusement.

  Dad lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, you may well smirk, mister. You are in big trouble.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “Apparently, you were supposed to stop me from dashing out into the snow, risking life and limb to drive to the hospital. You were supposed to make me stay at home. And to top it all, you didn’t call her.” Dad’s eyes twinkled.

  Micah snorted. “Hey, you have a phone too. And as for the rest… Yeah, right. Since when can either of us stop you from doing anything, once your mind is made up?” He glanced up to see the nurse standing outside the door of ICU.

  “Greg is out of surgery.” She smiled. “He’s still groggy, but he wants to see you. So if you’ll come with me? We’ve moved him to another bed now.”

 

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