She gave him a startled look. “Why?” she asked, pacing in front of him.
He turned to look at her. Her agitated state was obvious as she paced across the large kitchen. Her body language told him she wanted him to go. But she obviously couldn’t voice her need.
“I would like to meet your brother. To let him know that, at least for now, his sister is cared for. I know you love him and he must have been a wonderful boy for you to still cling to his memory the way you do. I want to meet someone who is capable of garnering such love, loyalty and devotion.”
“He’s going to die.”
The words came out on a sob as she leaned back against the refrigerator. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor.
“He’s going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him. He’s all I have left.”
Her words hit him hard. The pain was sharp. The wound deep. She was right, to an extent. For years, her brother had been all she had left. But not any more. She had him now.
He knelt down and gathered her in his arms. She sobbed against his chest and he wondered how many times she had sobbed out the same sorrows while she prayed for the help of her God.
He couldn’t think about that now. He refused to drown himself in his own pity while she cried her heart out against his chest.
“Then I should go with you. You shouldn’t be alone to do this. You won’t be in any condition to drive when it is over.”
She nodded. “You’re right.” She pushed against his shoulders and stood. “I’ll never be able to walk down the corridor, let alone drive all the way back here.”
Reaching across the counter, she pulled a paper towel from the holder attached to the underside of a cabinet and wiped her eyes before using it to blow her nose.
“Just let me get my purse and we can get the hell out of here.”
* * * *
They arrived at the hospital too early. The nurses in the ICU, reluctant to allow Emma see her brother before the official visiting hours began, sent them away.
“You should be seen by a doctor while we’re here and it’s not like we don’t have some time to kill now.”
She turned to examine one of the exposed burns on his arm. He tightened his muscles, refusing to flinch. The way he figured it, if she even remotely thought he was in pain she would drag his ass to the emergency room and he didn’t want that. There was no telling what modern medicine could find out about his blood.
“I feel fine. There is no reason to waste the time of these people when I can clearly see they are needed elsewhere most urgently.”
Finally, after arguing with him for several minutes, she apparently realized he wasn’t about to budge on the matter. So she shifted tactics.
“You said you would see a doctor if I brought you,” she twisted his words in an obvious attempt to get him to let the medical professionals check him over.
The woman was tenacious as well as devious. He stifled a smile at the thought. Under certain circumstances he liked that in a woman.
“No,” he said shaking his head. “I did not. I said I would go with you to the hospital and no other. I did not agree to let another man poke and prod at my person.”
She crossed her eyes. What a baby!
“Why do you always talk so funny?”
Uh, oh. She was beginning to think that it was strange how he seemed to slip in and out of his strange, antiquated speech. He’d spoken like this for centuries. He was finding it hard to stop now. Apparently old habits do die hard.
He shrugged. “I didn’t realize that I was.”
Obviously deciding to give up on getting him seen, she steered him toward the cafeteria.
“Why don’t we get something to eat? By the time we’re finished, we can go in and see Alex.”
He agreed. He wasn’t all that hungry, but maybe she was.
He followed her down the brightly lit corridor, admiring the shape of her ass. He loved a nice ass and Emma had the nicest that he’d seen in some time. Her hips swayed from side to side as she led him down the hall. He wanted nothing better than to grab her and drag her into one of these rooms and fuck her brains out.
“I thought maybe you would be hungry after all that has happened over the last several hours.”
She watched as he chose a cup of coffee and a bagel from the cafeteria shelves and he smiled at her.
“I rarely eat much when I’m upset.”
He plunked his tray down on a table in the center of the room and straddled the chair with his legs before he sat. He gave her a crooked grin.
“It never failed to worry my mother.”
“Hmmm...” she took a sip of her coffee grimaced and put two more packets of sugar in it. “I’ll bet it did. Moms can be like that.” She glanced at her watch.
“Or big sisters who are used to playing at being a mom, too, I’ll bet.”
She gave him a noncommittal shrug.
“Yeah, I suppose.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out on a sigh. “You don’t understand. I’ve raised my brother since he was eight. When…when my mother died.”
She stared down into her coffee and wrapped her fingers a bit tighter around the cup, turning her knuckles white.
“Then my dad died when I was eighteen. He left Alex and the farm in my custody until Alex is ready to take over. The way—” Her voice broke. She straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. “With the way things look now, I’ll never be able to hand over the reins.”
He stared at her. Impotent rage at his neglect of her during her time of need raced through his blood, a lightening storm of seething emotion. How could he call himself her God, her protector when he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him the most?
* * * *
Emma didn’t want to lose her brother. Yet today she had to agree to let them take him off the life-support. The doctor had already told her several times that there was minimal brain activity. If his brain couldn’t even function enough to keep his body breathing on its own, there wasn’t much hope.
Despair lodged in her chest. A sob caught in her throat as she finally faced the fact that this could likely be the day of her brother’s death. But, with the bank account dwindling and the insurance company about to stop paying the bills, she didn’t have much of a choice.
She raised her head, knowing her eyes were filled with her sorrow.
“How do I do this, Thor?” her voice broke on a sob. “How do I walk into that room and tell them to take my baby brother off life-support and then sit there and wait for him to die?”
She buried her head in her hands and cried. She cried for the losses and hardships she’d had to suffer through. There were so many in her young life. How many more would she be forced to endure?
She ignored the varied stares from the other cafeteria patrons. Pity would only make her cry harder. What she needed now was a way to become angry. Anger was a good thing in a situation like this. Perhaps she could make it work for her. Who knows? With any luck, perhaps she could force the tears back.
How can I do it? How can I ever make that choice?
Reach out and I shall be there to comfort you in your time of sorrow. My heart aches for you, my child. Reach for your God. He is there willing, waiting to help you.
Emma’s eyes widened. She looked around. There wasn’t anyone behind her and she knew Thor hadn’t said anything. Had she finally taken a dive off the deep end?
She shook her head.
You did not hear that voice of a strange man in your head. What are you thinking? You are not hearing the voices of strange men in your head at all.
Studying the wisps of steam from her coffee, she busied herself with putting cream and sugar in the dark brew. It didn’t take long to stir it in and she soon found herself with nothing to do again.
I am your God, Odin. Listen to your heart, child. Ask Thor for help and this time he shall deliver.
I am not hearing voices in my head!
Oh, God! She’d finally irrevocably gone off the deep end. Now she was hearing voices. What was next, wearing a tinfoil hat?
Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared across the table at Thor, as she contemplated the loss of her sanity. He was so strong, so caring. It would be so easy to fall in love with someone like him. Shaking her head, she swiped her hand over her eyes. She couldn’t let herself fall in love with him. If she did, and he died too, it would kill her.
Chapter Thirteen
Thor stood up quickly. His chair slid noisily across the smooth tile floor. Several people sat staring at Emma, during what should have been a private moment for her. He scowled at the gawking people, giving them his fiercest glare so they’d give her some small semblance of privacy.
He strode around the table and pulled her up into his arms. She stood easily, letting him press her face against his chest. She reached out automatically and wrapped her arms around his waist.
His heart ached for her. It was his fault she had gone through such terrible times. It was his fault that her prayers weren’t answered years ago. He should never have been so caught up with his own troubles that he couldn’t sense the needs of one of his people.
Yet he knew the conundrum. Had her prayers been answered all those years ago, she wouldn’t be the woman she had become. A woman worthy to be the consort of a God.
He tightened his arms around her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. After a few moments, she pulled from his embrace and wiped the tears from her eyes.
She laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood, but the sound came out more of a croak. He reached up with a napkin and gently held the napkin against her nose.
“Blow.”
He felt nine times a fool, dragging that damned paper napkin over her face. Big and clumsy, his hands shook as he did his best to comfort her, even as he feared accidentally harming her in some way.
She cleared her throat. “We should go to his room now,” she said, checking her watch again.
“I want to spend some time with him before—” Her voice broke and she shook her head.
Holding her hand up, she shook her head again when he would have pulled her into his arms once more.
“Please, don’t be nice to me.” Her voice quavered when she spoke. Grabbing another napkin from the table, she blew her nose. “I’ll break down if you’re nice to me. I need to be strong today. For Alex.” She sighed when her words came out on soft hiccups. “He doesn’t deserve to lay in that hospital bed with tubes sticking out everywhere. I have to be strong enough to let him go.”
Thor let her lead him up to her brother’s room where he waited silently for her to say her heartbreaking goodbyes.
Father, if you’re going to help this boy, now is the time. He said, reaching out with his senses trying to figure out if his father was even with them. The hospital officials have been hounding Emma to remove the boy from the life-support machines. Those machines are holding him to this life.
Move closer to the bed, son. The boy is too far gone. I can’t heal him through you. I must return your power to you and you must heal the boy. Even though you are with him, you will find that you do not have the power to heal him in one day. It will take several visits, but it can be done. When you have finished with the healing, then I shall strip you bare of your powers once more.
Following his father’s instructions, Thor moved closer to the bed. He placed his hands on Alex’s arm and stomach and closed his eyes. Reaching within himself, he found his power lagging and weak from disuse. Still, he felt the surge as he began to pour it into the injured boy.
Burning hot energy rushed from him and into Alex’s body, repairing the swollen tissue of his brain and healing his damaged organs. Heat built up inside his own body, making him sweat as he forced the healing energy into Emma’s beloved brother.
Using up his energy this way was taxing, especially when his powers had begun to wan from neglect over the centuries.
Even though his family and the others were what these people knew as gods, they were only omnipotent when others believed. The less people believed in them, the less power they had. Soon, one day, they would be no more.
Every century that passed reduced the number of believers. Soon, his people would be mortal like everyone else. They were only gods by the grace of those who served and worshipped them.
His powers exhausted, he staggered back from the bed. Even after expelling every bit of energy he held within him, the boy still lay like the dead upon the narrow bed in front of him.
He was too late. He had waited too long. He raised his eyes to Emma, who looked on with barely disguised despair and knew that he had failed her. Losing her love and her belief had weakened him.
He fell back, slamming against the wall behind him. His knees buckled and he felt himself inexplicably sliding to the floor in a disgraceful heap.
She rushed to his side.
“I told you that you needed to see a doctor, you stubborn creep,” she said, pushing the hair from his face. “God, you look so pale! I’m going to find a nurse.”
She started to leave and he grabbed her arm.
“I don’t need a damned doctor,” he grumbled wearily. “I need sleep. I’ll be fine.”
He let his eyes drift closed, hoping to gather enough energy to at least stand. It wouldn’t do to have the hospital staff come in and find him on the floor like this.
The door opened beside him and a nurse and doctor walked into the room.
“It’s time already?” Emma asked, darting a look at her brother.
Sparkling tears caught on her lashes before they fell to her cheeks, glittering like gems. He wanted to brush those tears from her face, but was still too weak to stand. He clenched his hands at his sides, berating himself for his continued selfishness that put her in this situation.
The nurse bustled around the small room with cold efficiency, unplugging equipment, removing the tubes that snaked down her brother’s nose and throat, helping him to breath.
The steady beep and whoosh of the life-support, still attached to the tube anchored in his chest suddenly stopped and they all stood in the room surrounded by the eerie silence.
Alex’s chest did not rise and fall on its own, and after a full minute, the doctor checked his watch.
“Eleven twenty-two, Mrs. Harper, Let’s call it.”
Suddenly, Alex sucked in a huge gulp of air. The heart and brain wave monitors started to go crazy and his chest began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm.
The doctor rushed to Alex’s side and, putting his stethoscope to his ears, listened to the boy’s chest.
He looked up at Emma and smiled.
“Against the odds, your brother has begun to breathe on his own.” He looked at the monitors and frowned. “And his brainwave activity has increased quite drastically.”
He strode to the foot of the bed and picked up Alex’s chart.
“That’s strange, his records show that yesterday...” His voice trailed off and he looked around the room, clearly at a loss for words, his face pale. “I do believe that we have all just witnessed a medical miracle.”
He looked back at the boy in the bed. His color had improved in just the few moments that he’d been breathing on his own. The doctor shook his head in obvious disbelief.
Thor heaved a sigh of relief. Emma’s brother may not be out of the woods, just yet, but at least he had improved enough that the medical professionals were no longer so eager to give up on him.
Before, there had been no hope that he would survive. At least now, Emma had his recovery to look forward to. At least now she had hope.
She rushed to her brother’s side. She buried her head in his neck, whispering her love to him. Thor could hear her and hoped to one day hear those words said to him with such feeling, but only if Emma was the one speaking. He knew she didn’t want to live without her brother and he’d had obviously fought, struggled to stay with his sister.
She g
azed down at her brother. Perhaps now she would finally be able to rest, finally be able to smile and not feel guilty because she laughed while her brother lay dying. And she would find the place where she no longer felt guilty for stealing small moments of pleasure for herself.
* * * *
With every breath Alex drew on his own, Emma’s guilt at having stolen a few moments of paradise in Thor’s arms lessened. Even though she loved Alex with everything in her, she needed that time. Perhaps it was her turn to live. She had always put her wants, her needs aside to care for him and their father. Maybe it was time that for once in her life, that she took control and seized a few moments for herself.
Gazing down at her brother, so still and pale, she watched the steady rhythm of his chest. She listened to the soft sound of his breathing and smiled. It was a beautiful sound.
She looked over at Thor and frowned. Why did he look so pale and tired? The normally small laugh lines around his mouth and eyes were deeper, more pronounced.
He stood leaning against the wall, his shoulders slumped. She’d never seen anyone look so tired in her life. It was almost as if he had somehow given Alex all of his energy and now stood here on the very edge of death himself.
What a ridiculous thought, Emma. Of course he did no such thing. He’s merely tired because neither of you got any sleep last night.
“You should see a doctor while you’re here. You’re so weak you can barely stand.” Should she put her foot down and make him go? Could she?
“I have already told you,” he said shaking his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m just tired. After a few hours of sleep, I’ll be good as new.” He looked up at her and winked. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, you know.”
Her face warmed and she turned to look at her brother.
“It’s not very nice of you to bring that up in here, you know,” she whispered. She turned to open the blinds. “I feel like letting some sun in. Do you think he knows the sun is shining on him?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile as he pulled himself up off the floor. “I think he knows the sun is shining and I would bet that he can even hear the smile in your voice.”
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