Temptation

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  “And you are…?” I risked a glance at the officer who was freakishly tall. Meeting my eyes for an instant, he looked back at Sam. His voice was strangely gentle for such a big guy.

  Sam cleared his voice. “I’m Sam Cameron and this is my little sister, Rose.”

  Just when he said it, I felt the air stir, and the cool breeze pushing in from the open doors sent a shiver through me. I felt their eyes on me before I actually saw them, that weird sixth sense telling me they were there. And when I looked up, they were there, Noah’s parents, standing in the entranceway of the hospital, accusing eyes directed at me.

  Before I had a chance to go to them and beg for their forgiveness, a nurse ran by into Noah’s room, shouting, “Life Star is here…!”

  A minute later, the door flung open. Noah was on a hospital gurney, being pushed out of the room in a frenzy of activity. I only got a glimpse of his ruffled hair.

  I tried to go to him, struggling against Sam’s firm hold. I needed to tell him I’d made a mistake and that I loved him, loved him more than anything in the world. But no matter how I twisted and strained, Sam wouldn’t release me. He held me back, probably thinking it was for my own good. But instead, he was killing me, forcing me to watch helplessly while Noah’s parents rushed to his side and out the building with him to the waiting helicopter.

  More tears welled up in my sore eyes and the air hardly reached my lungs as I stared at the glass door. There went my whole life out that door—and maybe it would be the last time I’d ever see him.

  My tired mind felt the thought come trickling in on butterfly wings. Yes, I had already made the decision when I was lying in the tangle of brush beside the roadway—I knew what I had to do now.

  Right when the decision was cemented into my brain, Dad appeared and engulfed me in his strong arms, picking me off the ground as if I was a little girl again. Any anger I had been carrying toward him for the past few weeks was instantly erased. I clung to him tighter than I did even when Mom died.

  He smoothed my hair down my back for a brief time. Then leaning away from me, he lifted my chin, meeting my eyes.

  “Rose, calm down and listen to me. Noah has a good chance of survival. I stabilized him and now he’s being airlifted to Cincinnati’s Good Samaritan.”

  I stuttered out between breaths, “Is he paralyzed?”

  Seeing his shaking head before even hearing his words filled me with glowing relief. “No, Rose, he’s not paralyzed, but he has internal bleeding, a serious head wound and a fractured leg.”

  “Do you really think he’ll live?” I pleaded more than asked him.

  “All his injuries appear to be manageable, especially once he arrives at Samaritan. They’re larger and have a more equipped trauma unit.” He paused to catch his breath, obviously still pumped up from the rush to save Noah’s life. Then he asked me, looking into my eyes with a doctor’s searching gaze, “Can you understand me, Rose?”

  Nodding my head, I murmured, “Uh-huh.”

  “Amos and Rebecca Miller are not going to be allowed to ride in the helicopter with Noah. Even if they could, I doubt their traditions would allow it. So I’m going to offer to drive them to Cincinnati tonight. I want you to go home with Sam and get some rest. I’ll call you when I know anything for sure.”

  “Can’t I come with you, Dad?” I begged, choking back a sob.

  Sighing, he took a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping my face softly while he answered, “No, Rosie, that wouldn’t be appropriate under the circumstances. I don’t want to do anything that might upset Noah’s parents more than they already are.”

  I bobbed my head once in acknowledgment, hating his words but knowing they were true.

  Dad then turned his attention to Sam. “I want you to take her home and make sure she has a shower to get this blood and grime washed off. Then I want you to put antiseptic lotion on these cuts and put her to bed. Do you have all that, Sam?”

  “Yeah, sure thing, Dad,” he said in an unusually subdued voice.

  Dad let go of me, and while he was moving toward the entrance, he glanced back at me, promising, “I’ll call you when I have any news.”

  Then he was gone, and the agonizing wait began.

  28

  Noah

  The Light at the End of the Tunnel

  FROM SOMEWHERE FAR away came a voice, and I strained to listen. It was Father. He sounded desperate. Then, as my mind cleared, leaving the dream behind, I felt hands on my face, and abruptly the voice was loud in my ears.

  “Son—son, wake now. Rose is fine. You’re having an ill dream.”

  Hearing her name out loud, I snapped my eyes open. The world was fuzzy at first. I could tell where Father’s face was, but I couldn’t make out any of his features. I tried to blink away the vagueness, and after several attempts, my sight began to slowly return.

  I could see his worry now, and then I noticed Mother on the other side of the bed. She was gently holding my hand, rubbing it with her fingers. I breathed in deep with relief that I could feel her hand at all. Several things hit me at once: first, the crisp, cool sheets against my skin…second, the stark, bright whiteness of the room…and third, probably the most profound, the aches that immediately seemed to invade my senses from every part of my body.

  But where was Rose? Why wasn’t she here with me? My mind was still blurred with confusion. In an attempt to look around the room I shifted in the bed, directing my limbs to move. They responded somewhat, but sluggishly. In frustration, I began to struggle and, for the first time, felt the sharp tugging of the tubes poking into my arm and stuck up my nose.

  “Where’s…Rose?” I sputtered in a weak voice that sounded strange to me.

  Father’s hands were instantly on me, holding me down. His voice said gently, “She’s at her home, Noah, and she’s perfectly all right. Now, calm yourself, and we’ll talk.”

  “The truck—it didn’t hit her?” I asked, panic still gripping my heart.

  “No, no. She wasn’t in the accident. But she was there, Noah. She saw it happen,” Father said with a twinge of something in his voice I couldn’t quite understand in my frazzled state.

  “Why isn’t she here?” When neither of my parents answered, I shifted my head to Mother and said forcefully, “I want her here with me.”

  She sighed deeply, and without letting go of my hand, she sat down on the chair near the bed and cleared her throat. When she spoke, she sounded so tired, and I realized how difficult this ordeal must be for her.

  “Noah, why were you out on that road with your buggy?” she asked softly, squeezing my hand tighter as she said the words.

  The memories were cloudy, and I had to think for a minute. I remembered talking to Rose on the phone, and her wavering, upset voice. I remembered that she had left a party because some guy had bothered her, and she was alone in a field. I remembered she needed me, and I went to get her. To rescue her from whatever mess she’d gotten herself into.

  And I was almost to her, when the lights of the truck appeared, and the blaring sound of the horn thundered through the night air. Those were the last things I could pull from my mind. Straining, I tried to recall the impact…but I couldn’t. My mind had blocked that memory from me. The last thing I could recollect was the fear that had stabbed me when I thought that Rose had been run over by the truck, and then the peaceful relief that had come over me when she appeared beside me, and I felt her lying there, near me.

  After everything that had happened, I no longer feared my parents. Seeing the exhausted worry on their faces, I believed they would support me in any decision I made.

  Finding my raspy voice, I said, “I called Rose to talk to her…see how she was doing. She told me she had left a party on foot because a guy had been harassing her.” Pausing, I watched for their reactions, which appeared to be rapt curiosity, so I continued, “She was stranded in a field, all alone, and I couldn’t leave her like that. She didn’t want me to come, though. She didn’t want m
e to get into trouble.”

  “Yet, you went anyway,” Father finished with a heavy sigh.

  Looking into his eyes, I quietly said, “I love Rose, Father. I can’t erase the feelings I have for her just because you want me to.”

  Grimly he said, “You are very blessed, Noah, that you weren’t killed in that accident. You need to focus your energies on recovering, not on the English girl.”

  Anger flared in me at his words. “I need Rose in order to recover, Father. It’s not just about my body. It’s about my heart.”

  “The doctors tell us that you have a small fracture on your skull, bruised ribs, a fractured leg and a punctured lung, among other injuries. All will heal in time, but your body is definitely in worse shape than your heart at this point,” Father pointed out gruffly, sarcasm creeping into his words.

  “I need to see her, Father. I need to talk to her about something,” I pleaded in a low voice, figuring if he wouldn’t grant my request following a near-death experience, he never would.

  I watched him glance at Mother, who nodded her head. Then he turned back to me, saying, “I know what you want to talk to her about, son.” After a long pause he went on, “All right, I’ll see if she can come.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  For the next hour or so, I was poked and prodded by a number of doctors and nurses. My eyes were tired of the flashes of light, and I was thoroughly sick of repeating my birth date, address and the names of all my siblings over and over to prove to them that I didn’t have significant brain damage. One younger doctor had joked that if I could remember all those names, I must be in good shape.

  Just as the last nurse left the room, leaving me alone with Father and Mother, Dr. Cameron walked in. He sat down in the corner with my parents for several minutes explaining as best he could exactly about my injuries. I was sure they didn’t understand half of what they were being told. I sure didn’t, but the man was trying pretty hard and they were doing the best they could to listen.

  When Dr. Cameron finished talking, he rose up fluidly and crossed the room to me, placing his warm hand on the inside of my wrist while he studied my eyes.

  “You’re a very lucky young man, Noah,” he said in a friendly tone, going on to say, “Within a few months you’ll be back building houses and riding horses.”

  Without thinking about the rudeness of it, I said, “I want to see Rose.”

  His eyes widened for a second, but he regained his composure quickly and glanced at my parents questioningly.

  Father cleared his throat, and rubbing his beard uncomfortably, he said, “David, I would understand if you didn’t allow this…but, Noah really wants to talk to your daughter. I think it would relieve the anxiety he’s feeling if she was here with him.”

  Dr. Cameron looked from Father to me, and sighing, he pulled the phone from his pocket as he left the room.

  The couple of minutes he took to return seemed like an hour. But when he did stroll back into the room, he nodded his head, saying, “Sam’s going to bring her. They’re on their way.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling instantly better as I settled back into the bed, letting the tension go that I hadn’t even realized I was holding in.

  Turning back to my parents, he said, “I have to get back to the hospital in Meadow View now, but I’ll be in contact with the doctors here, and when Noah is ready to be released, I’d be happy to make arrangements for you all to be driven home.”

  Father stepped forward and grasped Dr. Cameron’s hand tightly, and with an emotional voice, he said, “Thank you so much for all that you did for our son and for taking your time to bring us here. We will always be indebted to you for your kindness at such a dark moment.”

  “I was just happy to help in any way I could…and I believe that your son had a guardian angel watching over him last night.” He stared at me for a few seconds before going on to say, “I appreciate what you did, Noah—going out with your buggy to get Rose and bring her home.” There was an awkward pause, as if Dr. Cameron had more to say but wasn’t sure if he should, before he turned back to Father and said, “If you or Rebecca would like a ride back to your farm later today, I’m sure Sam could drive you when he heads home. Just let him know. I estimate that Noah will be kept here for six or seven more days.”

  “Yes, thank you for the offer. We’ve contacted our driver and are working out the details,” Father informed him politely.

  “Well, I’ll see you all soon,” Dr. Cameron said, sweeping out of the room, in a hurry to move on to other emergencies, I imagined.

  Closing my eyes, I decided to try to sleep a little bit before Rose arrived. My head was filling with shadows again from all the drugs the nurses were pumping into me through the tubes. I hoped to be more alert when I finally got to talk to her. Once my eyelids blocked out the bright light, my mind slipped away into the darkness.

  * * *

  The soft lips that were pressing against my forehead and the warm flowers filling my nostrils told me she was finally here, gently pulling me from unconsciousness.

  Happiness teased me as I opened my eyes, turning quickly to shock when I saw her face. Dark circles beneath her eyes sharply contrasted with the blue of the eyes themselves. Even more alarming was a long, jagged scratch sliced across her cheek.

  Reaching up with the hand that was free of needles, I softly trailed my finger across the cut. Worry filling me, I asked, “Are you okay, Rose?”

  She threw back her head and laughed heartily. The sound was music to my ears. When she straightened out and could speak, a grin touched her mouth. “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that, Noah?”

  “I’m better now that you’re here,” I said flirtatiously, dismissing the fact that Mother and Father were only a few feet away watching me. I was feeling pretty bold right then.

  It felt good.

  She leaned in closer, and I could smell her wonderful scent again while she studied my face.

  In a near whisper, she exclaimed, “You look terrible, Noah. Like a raccoon.”

  Now I was the one laughing, and it really hurt, so I breathed in sharply to cut off my amusement quickly. I had forgotten all about my black eyes and the stunned look on her pretty face would have brought the laughter back, if she hadn’t placed her fingertips over my eyes, softly caressing them. At that point I just relaxed, shutting my eyes to let her touch work its magic.

  The sound of two throats clearing burst through the room, and for the first time I noticed Sam standing at the end of one side of the bed. Then my gaze was drawn to Father, who held a slight frown on his mouth while he stood on the other. Rose either didn’t notice the others’ discomfort or didn’t care, because she continued to move her fingers softly over my face, ignoring her brother and my parents completely.

  Inwardly, I smiled about that. While I was dealing with the pleasant little tingles her fingers left behind, and the jabbing pain in my ribs, I said, “Thanks, Sam, for bringing Rose to the city.”

  “Oh, no problem, bro, just glad you’re still alive,” he said as he made his way to the chair by the window, flopping down in it.

  I really wanted to talk to Rose alone, but Sam looked settled in for a while, causing me to sigh in irritation.

  “Sam, my boy, why don’t you join the missus and me for dinner in the cafeteria. It’ll be my treat. I’ve been told the food isn’t too bad,” Father said in a friendly yet determined voice.

  Breathing deeply in exaggerated annoyance, Sam rose from the chair. “Yeah, I get the idea. The lovebirds want to be alone.”

  After my parents were through the door, Sam smirked back and before disappearing, he said smugly, “I guess I don’t really have to worry about you getting carried away with my sister—not in your condition anyway.”

  The guy really irked me. I decided that he would be a very difficult brother-in-law to have as I focused my attention back on Rose, who, seeing that we were now alone, brought her lips ever so softly to mine.

  E
ven in my near-dead state, the feeling was still amazing. But it didn’t last long enough, when she pulled back, staring at me with a faraway, glazed look in her eyes.

  “I thought you were dead, Noah,” she said, a single tear appearing at the corner of her eye.

  If I had been in better shape, I would have yanked her into a snug embrace, but at the moment all I could do was caress her hands with my one usable one.

  “But I’m alive and healable, so why are you crying? You should be incredibly happy,” I teased.

  “Oh, I am happy. That’s why I’m crying again,” she mumbled wetly, wiping her face on the sheet like a little girl with a cold.