Crossing's Redemption

by Carrie Daws

  Crossing’s Redemption

  © 2013 by Carrie Daws

  All rights reserved

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN: 978-1-62020-232-6

  eISBN: 978-1-62020-330-9

  THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  Cover design and typesetting: Matthew Mulder

  E-book conversion: Anna Riebe

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Quotes, Recommended Resources, and Verses to Consider

  Also by Carrie Daws

  Contact Information

  Ryan’s Crossing Book Club Discussion Sheet

  Heal me, Lord, and I will be healed;

  save me and I will be saved,

  for you are the one I praise.

  Jeremiah 17:14

  Chapter 1

  AMBER YAGER PULLED HER 2010 black Jeep Liberty off Highway 26 at Crossing, Oregon. Running her hand through her dark hair, she rested her slender arm on the console between the front seats. “We’re almost home, baby boy.”

  She looked in the rearview mirror to see the reflection of six-month old Daniel in the mirror fastened above his rear-facing car seat. He had fallen asleep shortly after leaving the doctor’s office in Portland an hour ago, and his chubby cheeks and closed eyes weren’t showing any signs of waking now. The May sun coming through her window warmed her enough that she didn’t have to worry too much about constantly adjusting the heat in the Jeep. She liked it warm, but the child did not like being too hot.

  She turned right onto Hood Street and thought about stopping in the town square to see her parents who helped run the local hardware store. “Not sure I’m ready for all of Dad’s questions about the appointment today, God.” His journalistic mind frequently took over in conversations, and today she feared he’d seek answers she wasn’t sure she had. She drove by the two-story building, vowing to call her mom soon.

  Just as Amber approached the turn-off that would take her a short distance out of town to the home she shared with her husband, Peter, she noticed Patricia Guire sitting on her front porch steps. Amber raised her hand in greeting, but the sixty-six-year old woman barely acknowledged her.

  That’s odd, thought Amber. She’s usually friendly to me.

  She braked in front of Patricia’s home and rolled down her window. “Hi, Mrs. Guire,” she called out. “How are you?”

  Patricia barely lifted her hand in response.

  Amber tried again. “Are you okay, Mrs. Guire?” She barely heard the response.

  “Fine.”

  Amber watched for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Patricia’s short, gray hair blew slightly with the breeze, but the rest of her was uncommonly still. Something’s not right, Lord.

  Go help, came a gentle response.

  Amber pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep into park. Leaving it running and hoping Daniel would sleep for a while still, Amber grabbed her phone and got out of the vehicle. Patricia didn’t look her way.

  Amber crouched one step below Patricia and looked up into her face. Thankfully, most of the porch was in the afternoon shade. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Guire?”

  “I . . . just need . . . a moment,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll be . . . fine . . . in a minute.”

  Amber unlocked her phone and went to her contacts list. She clicked on her brother’s work number. “I’m calling Ryan.”

  Her brother being a licensed EMT had come in handy several times over the last few years, but she was now just as thankful that Mrs. Guire lived only a few blocks from the town clinic where he was working to become a physician’s assistant.

  The receptionist answered on the second ring. “Crossing Clinic.”

  “Hey, Becka. It’s Amber. Sorry to be short but I have a problem. Is Ryan there?”

  “Yeah. He’s just finishing up with a patient. Do you want to hold?”

  “No,” said Amber. “Please have him meet me at Mrs. Guire’s house. Tell him I need him now.”

  Amber ended the call and picked up Mrs. Guire’s small, trembling hand. “Ryan will be here in just a minute. He is at the clinic.”

  “It passes,” said Patricia breathlessly.

  “How long has this been going on?” Amber prayed the rumble she heard was Ryan’s 1968 black Mustang starting. As rarely as she called him at the clinic, he would know this was an emergency.

  “I don’t know,” said Patricia, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

  Ryan Griffin pulled up in front of the house and turned the car off. Grabbing a medical bag, he jumped out of the car, a lock of dark hair falling on his forehead. Running most mornings with Peter helped keep his twenty-five-year-old body in great shape, but his wavy hair resisted control. “What’s up, ladies?”

  Amber gave Mrs. Guire a moment to answer, but she barely acknowledged Ryan’s presence. “I was on my way home and saw her sitting here,” said Amber. “She’s not really talking much and didn’t say anything when I called you.”

  Ryan looked at his elder sister, eyebrows rising. Patricia Guire was not known around town for quiet compliance. He kneeled in front of the older woman and felt for a pulse in her wrist. “What are you feeling, Mrs. Guire?”

  “Tired,” said Patricia. “I’m just . . . tired.”

  “Uh-huh,” said Ryan. “Anything else? Any pain?”

  “I just need . . . to lie down.” She shifted her eyes to look at Ryan for the first time since he arrived. “It passes.”

  “Does it now,” said Ryan. “And how often does it pass?” Ryan pulled out a pulse oximeter and attached it to Patricia’s left index finger.

  “Every few days or so.” Patricia’s voice was soft but becoming more steady.

  Amber turned to look through her car window but didn’t see any movement from the car seat. She prayed Daniel still slept peacefully.

  “Are we talking more than once a week?” said Ryan as he watched the reading on the pulse ox machine.

  “Not normally.” Patricia’s eyes were clearing, and she watched Ryan’s movements.

  “How about you let us help you inside so we can get this jacket off?” said Ryan. “I’d like to take your blood pressure.”

  “No need to worry,” said Patricia, weakly waving him off. “If I can just rest for a while . . .”

  “Mrs. Guire,” said Ryan. “That wasn’t really a request.”

  Amber watched the two of them size each other up. She’d never seen her brother stand up to Mrs. Guire quite like this before, but she knew his obstinate side very well. Just five years younger than she was, she remembered many stand-offs growing up.

  After a brief moment, Patricia nodded. “Okay.
”

  Ryan extended both his arms, and Mrs. Guire leaned on him heavily as she stood.

  “I’m just going to grab Daniel from the car,” said Amber.

  “Oh, child,” said Patricia, “go on home.” Patricia carefully climbed a step, obviously relying on Ryan to steady her. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Guire,” said Amber, “I’ll feel much better once Ryan’s convinced you’re fine.”

  Amber opened the front door of her Jeep and turned the engine off, then went to the back door and opened it to see Daniel looking at her. “Hey there, handsome.” She unlatched the seatbelt and pulled the car seat towards her. “We’re just going to go inside Mrs. Guire’s house for a few minutes.”

  By the time she made it inside, Ryan had Patricia sitting on her couch and was helping her out of her jacket. She seemed like a weak version of her normal self, yet more responsive than before.

  “I don’t know why you think this is necessary,” said Patricia.

  Ryan fastened the blood pressure cuff around her right arm. “Because you were sitting on your front porch allowing me to attach medical equipment to you without an argument.”

  “I simply over-exerted myself for a moment,” said Patricia.

  “Really,” said Ryan calmly. “Doing what?” He inflated the blood pressure cuff.

  “I was tending to my bluebells in the garden,” said Patricia.

  As he began to release the pressure on the cuff, he felt her pulse at her wrist again. “And what were you doing last time this happened?” asked Ryan.

  “Last time?”

  “Yes,” said Ryan. “You said this happens once a week or more. Were you also tending the garden last time?”

  “That’s not any of your concern,” snapped Patricia.

  “It’s good to hear your attitude returning to normal,” said Ryan.

  Amber felt the tension rising in the room but wasn’t sure what to do to help.

  “Now you listen to me, young man,” Patricia began.

  “No, ma’am,” said Ryan. “You listen to me.” He sat down on the couch beside her and removed the blood pressure cuff. “I don’t know how often your family checks on you by phone, but with the exception of your niece’s trip here six months ago, I’ve not seen any of them rumble into town.”

  “I dare say nothing rumbles in this town but that old Mustang of yours,” Patricia muttered.

  Ryan continued on without letting her distract him. “And I’m willing to bet that I’m the closest thing to a doctor that you’ve seen in a long time.”

  Patricia crossed her arms. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Mrs. Guire, as both a medical professional and a friend, I care about you. And what I saw when I first got here concerns me.”

  “Is my blood pressure bad?”

  “It’s not horrible,” said Ryan.

  “And that contraption you put on my finger. Was it reading okay?”

  “It was acceptable.”

  “So what exactly are you proposing?”

  “I’d like to start by testing your blood sugar now.”

  Patricia raised her eyebrows. “You think I’m diabetic, boy?”

  “That’s one possibility.”

  “And what are the other possibilities?”

  “Truthfully, Mrs. Guire, the possibilities are quite extensive because I have a very short list of symptoms. I’d really like you to come back to the clinic to tell me more about what’s been going on and to allow me to draw blood for some tests.”

  “And what if I don’t want to?”

  “I don’t mind setting up shop right here. I have quite a bit of what I need in that bag.” Ryan pointed his index finger in her face. “And I’m not above calling someone to bring me everything else so you don’t have a chance to lock me out.”

  Patricia grabbed his finger. “You’re about the most irritating boy in this whole town.”

  Ryan grinned at her. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Chapter 2

  CONVINCED HER JEEP WAS EASIER for Patricia to get out of than Ryan’s Mustang, Amber insisted on driving her to the clinic. Upon arriving at the front door, Patricia thanked her for the ride. Ryan opened her door and held his hands out to assist her. “I wouldn’t get used to this, young man,” she said as she leaned on him to get out of the Jeep.

  Ryan shut the vehicle door and waved to his sister. “I’m rather counting on you hanging around for a while to help spoil Alaina.”

  “How old is your sweet child now?” Patricia knew she was moving more slowly than normal, but her steps were taking so much effort.

  “Two weeks old today. We thought she and Peter might share a birthday, as late as she was coming.”

  Ryan opened the front door of the clinic, and Patricia shuffled through, pausing in the small waiting area. Two people sat in chairs to her right, and Patricia determined not to look to see who was going to know she’d come in the door on Ryan’s arm.

  “Hey, Becka,” said Ryan. “Is Exam 2 open?”

  Becka’s blonde ponytail bounced with each movement of her head. “Sure is,” the receptionist replied before answering the ringing phone.

  “Just a little farther, Mrs. Guire,” said Ryan. “We’re going back here to the left.”

  Patricia straightened her spine and gave each step concentrated effort. I will not look like an invalid, she thought.

  Just as they reached the exam room door, the door to the right opened. Dr. John Williams stood to the side while seven-year-old Joshua Davis and his mother, Amy, stepped out.

  “Hey, Doc Ryan!” said Josh. “Doc John says I’m doing great!” Josh emphasized his last word by jumping as high as he could with his fist in the air.

  Patricia thought back three years when Ryan first appeared in Crossing, before the days that Crossing had a regular doctor in the clinic. Josh had been showing signs of a flu that wouldn’t go away and nose bleeds every few days. When the small child had fainted at Amber’s wedding reception, Ryan had been the one who insisted on taking the child straight to Doernbecher Children’s Hospital in Portland, where he had been diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

  “Give me five,” said Ryan, holding his hand out for the child to hit.

  “C’mon, Josh,” said Amy. “Let’s not ’old everyone up.”

  Patricia smiled at Amy as she directed her child toward the front door; then her eyes briefly met Dr. Williams’. She jerked away, releasing Ryan’s arm so she could walk into the exam room.

  “Everything okay?” said Dr. Williams.

  “Yeah,” said Ryan. “Just doing some routine checks.”

  “Let me know if you need me,” Patricia heard Dr. Williams say.

  She refused to acknowledge his presence in the hallway. She could sense Ryan’s confusion, and she knew she was being rude, but she would take a firm stance. She could not let her guard down.

  Finally, the doctor moved on, and Ryan shut the door.

  “Want to tell me what that was about?” said Ryan, walking over to help Patricia sit up on the exam table.

  “I thought you wanted to hear more about my episodes.”

  “I do. I’m just wondering if whatever that was has anything to do with your episodes.”

  Patricia breathed in deeply and folded her hands in her lap. “He and I have a history I’d rather not repeat. That’s all.” She turned to focus intently on Ryan. “What are your other questions?”

  Ryan watched her for a moment. “Interesting.” He picked up a clipboard with papers attached and grabbed a pen. “Okay, let’s talk about these episodes. When did they start?”

  Amber pulled in front of her log cabin home and sighed deeply. The scene before her was calming. The young maple tree in the front yard was budding, small flowers were beginning to poke their heads out of the dirt in front of the long deck, and a soft glow was coming through the front windows. “Daddy’s home, baby boy,” she whispered.

  Daniel had s
tarted whimpering before they dropped Patricia off at the clinic. Now he was fully upset. Between the doctor’s office, the long drive, finding Patricia, and Daniel’s cries from the back seat, her nerves were shot.

  Just as she released Daniel’s car seat and pulled it to her, Peter opened the front door. “Want some help, Ray?” Their Australian shepherd, Sassy, barked beside him.

  “Yes.” She smiled. She marveled at how Peter still calmed her. Thanks, God, for bringing us together.

  She grabbed her purse and the diaper bag from the floorboard and then moved out of the way so Peter could get to Daniel. He easily lifted the car seat, closed the Jeep door, and wrapped his free arm around Amber while they walked inside. He adjusted his much longer stride to her shorter steps.

  “I was starting to wonder about you two,” said Peter.

  Amber set the bags down beside the soft leather couch and turned to greet Sassy, who spent most of her time with Amber. “It’s been quite a day,” she said, rubbing the dog’s dark brown ears.

  Amber saw concern etched in Peter’s blue eyes before he turned his focus to pulling Daniel from the car seat. “Everything go okay in Portland?” he said, patting the child’s back.

  Amber sighed as she adjusted a pillow on the couch behind her and prepared to nurse her baby. “Yeah, and I have a lot to tell you about that. We have some decisions to make. But on the way home, I found Patricia Guire on her porch steps.”

  “Her porch steps?”

  Peter handed Daniel to Amber before sitting down beside her, and while the baby latched on and began to eat, Amber told Peter about how Patricia looked and calling Ryan.

  “Did Ryan say what he thought was going on?”

  “Can you grab me a rag or something?” Amber wiped the small stream of milk on Daniel’s cheek. “He mentioned diabetes, but he said he had so little information that he had a long list of ideas. I took her to the clinic where she was going to talk with Ryan more and let him take some blood to send to the lab.”

  “Well, we know she’s in good hands. Ryan will do his best.”

  Amber shifted slightly so she could lean into Peter. He wrapped one arm around her. “I know. I guess I’m just remembering how fragile life can be. I know in my head that none of us is promised tomorrow, but life just seems to go on, and I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about someone not being there.”