by Cheryl Wyatt
“We brought chili over.”
“And stayed to help?” Delight brightened his amazing eyes.
She nodded, lowering her head in hopes he wouldn’t see the blush flaring past her mask and goggles.
Fondness washed across eyes that suggested he knew how hard it was for her to do this.
Mitch held out his hand, but she rested a scalpel there before he could say the word. She could tell by the way his cheeks lifted above the mask that he grinned.
She loved the transformation of lighthearted Mitch to serious surgeon. Yet he never lost his trademark humility. Confidence crucial to his job and leadership, yes. But no shred of an inflated ego existed in him.
Lauren busied herself organizing surgical instruments, feeling all eyes on her. She looked up to see Ian’s eyes crinkling at the corners as he observed her. The circulating nurse also smiled and appeared to melt with relief. They seemed really happy to have her.
God, don’t let me mess this up. More prayer surfaced in her mind. Help me deserve their trust and keep me as competent as this patient deserves.
“Retractor,” Mitch said after his initial cut.
Lauren eyed the instruments and picked up something resembling a shoehorn. “Retractor,” she repeated and placed it where he indicated in the surgical site.
“What happened?” Lauren asked after Mitch got through the intense portion of the surgery and into wound closure.
“Rock climber not properly geared for the terrain.”
“He’s lucky,” Lauren said, then eyed Mitch. “Had you not built this center…” She trailed off, remembering that even under anesthesia, patients’ hearing was the last sense to go.
Mitch’s expression finished her sentence.
Had this center not been here, this young man would not have made it to another hospital.
It dawned on Lauren what Mitch reminded her of when he entered into surgery-mode. He operated on each and every patient as though intent to give the person the life his dad never had.
Compassion welled up for him. She knew how it felt to grow up without a dad. Yet hadn’t God provided Lem? How odd that she and Mitch never ended up meeting until now. She handed Mitch his next-needed clamp.
Ian arranged respiratory tubing. “Cardinal outdoor rule. Never hike or fish alone,” he said to no one in particular.
Alarm screamed through her. “Mitch, does Grandpa have a fishing buddy close by?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”
Lauren broke out in a cold sweat. “Then I may need to scrub out and go check on him. He came with me to drop off chili. When I was needed, he said he was going fishing with a friend.”
Mitch met her gaze. “He’s safety-conscious. I doubt he’d go alone. We’re almost done here. Let me go with you to be sure.”
Lauren didn’t like the concern swimming in Mitch’s to-die-for eyes. Or the intensity and speed with which he worked now to suture a wound.
A terrible sense of panic enveloped her. Mitch’s expression didn’t circumvent it.
No, she didn’t like it at all.
Chapter Fifteen
Not until two military search-and-rescue helicopters hovered over the trauma center with pararescuemen scampering down ropes did Lauren realize how worried Mitch was about Lem.
She raised her voice above rotor buzz. “PJ friends?”
“Yeah.” Mitch bent to exchange his surgeon shoes for combat boots. “I called in a favor.” He winked at her, but tension carved a determined edge into his face she’d never seen before.
One she guessed he’d honed overseas while operating with bullets zinging over his head. She knew because Grandpa told her, which added to Mitch’s appeal. Which was the last thing she should notice right now with Grandpa MIA.
Lauren stared at her phone screen and felt like growling. “Why isn’t Grandpa answering his cell phone?”
Mitch drew near. His very presence calmed. “Probably because it’s sitting at home on his stereo, where he leaves it every time he walks out the door.” His tone went wry.
Lauren looked up. “Sure he knows how to use a cell phone?”
Mitch unfolded a lake map. “Yes. I made sure of it.”
“You got it for him?” She instinctually knew the answer.
A man like Mitch would.
“Yeah. Hooked it up, paid the bill and taught him how to use it. But so far haven’t managed to get him to take it with him when he goes somewhere.” Mitch ran hands over his buzz cut and walked with her to meet the camouflaged men.
“Thanks for coming, guys. He’s been gone an hour now,” Mitch said to the group of PJs as he led them to a picnic table. “I went out with binoculars but didn’t see any sign of him or my boat, which isn’t in my pole barn. I can’t fathom him being out in this kind of heat.”
Mitch was right. Ninety degrees lasted into evening. Lauren fought fear and images of all that could go wrong with a frail person. He could become disoriented. Fall in the lake. He could—
Ugh! Being a nurse was a curse sometimes as far as making one imagine the worst.
“Is he alone?” Brock asked.
Mitch motioned to Lauren. “She mentioned he was going to fish with a friend.”
Lauren put her hair in a ponytail. “I’m not sure who the friend is. Grandpa didn’t give a name or address. He didn’t take water or anything, to my knowledge.” The words sounded ridiculous coming off her tongue. How could she have let him go without getting more information? Still, he was an adult… .
“He said he had a fishing buddy.” Welling panic threatened to choke her. She coughed. Mitch handed her a swig of water. She didn’t want a drink. She wanted Grandpa to be okay.
Why had she let him venture off alone? Yet the grandpa Lauren remembered taught outdoor safety to Eagle Scout kids. If anyone knew not to traverse the terrain alone, it was Grandpa.
“I am fairly certain he is fishing with a friend. I hope we’re overreacting,” Lauren said to Mitch’s rescuer friends.
“Still, it’s better to be safe.” Mitch planned a search grid with the PJs while Lauren paced.
“Please pray,” she whispered desperately to Mitch, drawing from his strength before he headed out to search.
When he came back with no sign of Grandpa, she crumpled into a garden bench overlooking the lake.
Mitch rested a sustaining hand on her. “Eagle Point authorities are also looking. We’ll find him, Lauren.”
“But in what condition? I let him go, Mitch. Me. I did this.” Her voice cracked. She looked up, expecting a scolding. Deserved it. Instead, strong arms braced her and mercy emanated from beautiful eyes.
“Keep praying,” she pleaded, and yearned for his faith.
“Sweet Lauren.” He pulled her up and into a big hug. “I have been. Won’t hurt matters for you to say a few, too.”
She set her cheek against his throat from where warm strength and pure comfort wafted. She nestled closer. It was the right thing to do. Lean on him and let God flow between.
Mitch pulled back without severing the embrace, his sturdy gaze tentative yet tender. That moment she knew several things.
He really cared about Grandpa. So did God. More than she and Mitch put together. She also knew Mitch understood what Grandpa meant to her.
Their joint love and concern for Lem bonded them beyond human time and reason.
Mitch’s mouth moving against her temple told her he prayed beneath his breath for Lem, and probably for her.
He shouldn’t have to pray alone. Her faith surged. “Please bring Grandpa back safely. And his friend, if there is one. And teach Grandpa to take his stinkin’ cell phone with him.”
Mitch chuckled at her ending prayer and echoed her “Amen.” He hugged her again. Profound realization hit t
hat she didn’t want to leave the strength and surety of his embrace. Ever.
Mitch broke contact, but not completely. “We’d better go house to house. Ask if anyone has seen him. Surely the friend lives along the lake. If we don’t find him there, we’ll expand the search.” He kept an arm around her, undoubtedly to provide support as she walked. It meant nothing more.
She’d be a fool to hope for more.
This was one guy even the strongest-willed woman would have a tough time not falling for. She’d mentally joked about liking him, but this—this was becoming the real deal.
Lauren had no idea how her mind could grapple with Mitch and forever with Grandpa missing. Except maybe subconsciously she knew if something happened to Grandpa, she’d have no one.
Other than Mitch?
The thought of something being wrong with Grandpa caused Lauren to hyperventilate. One of the PJs brought her a bag. Mitch helped her to breathe in it until she calmed down.
A local first responder spread out a neighborhood map on the table. Mitch and Lauren sat opposite the rescuer.
A whistle behind them brought them up. They turned to find Brock sprinting over. “Found him.”
Lauren rushed him. “Safe?”
Brock pulled Mitch aside, which incited Lauren. “He’s my grandfather. I should be kept in the loop.”
Whatever Brock said made Mitch brace an arm around her.
“He’s safe…for now,” Brock assured.
“For now?” Her body became one gigantic cold sweat.
“Yes, he was bitten by a venomous snake.”
Lauren felt like heaving. Mitch upheld her. “Where is he?”
Mitch led her to the center. “Headed to the trauma room.”
“What happened?” Mitch beat Lauren asking Brock as they ran. “Most poisonous snakes in the area are defensive and like to be left alone. Lem must’ve accidentally stepped on it or something. Never would he provoke one.”
“All I know is he was fishing with a friend, but on his way back to the center, he was bitten.”
“What kind of snake?” Mitch seemed breathless, yet not from running. He was as worried about Lem as she was.
“Copperhead or cottonmouth by the looks of it. They’re giving him antivenom now.”
“Who found him?” Lauren asked.
“His lady friend. When he didn’t call to let her know he made it back to the trauma center, she went looking for him. Found him nearly unconscious and called authorities.”
Lady friend? What lady friend?
Brock continued as they sprinted toward the center. “She thought he’d had a stroke because his eyelids drooped and his speech slurred. But he was able to communicate that after leaving her dock, he walked into a snake’s path and somehow was stricken. That part’s unclear.”
“Call off the crew. We found him. He’s mostly okay,” Mitch said as they passed the search party leader, who relayed the message into a fancy radio as they reached the double doors.
Brock held them open. “I’ll finish updating searchers.”
Lauren rushed inside the center with Mitch. “What room?” she asked Kate breathlessly, who met them at the door.
“With Ian in Trauma Three.” Kate ushered them to the room. Lauren stopped short. An older woman stood by Lem’s bedside and held his hand. Her forehead pinched in worry.
Lem looked like a bloated baked potato with sausage arms.
As Grandpa and the woman stared caringly at one another, they both wore devoted expressions and floppy sun hats.
Matching sun hats.
The sight froze Lauren speechless on the spot.
Mitch hunkered at his bedside. “Heard you lost consciousness after the bite. Did you see what kind of snake it was?”
Lem shook his head. “We were both trying to get away from one another but he took a swipe at me anyhow.” Grandpa grimaced and writhed. Lauren knew his high tolerance. He was in excruciating pain.
Her heart squeezed with fear and compassion. Able to move now, she leaned across the bed and hugged him. Her tears wet his gown. “I’m grateful you were found in time to get help.”
No one commented, which ramped her into outer panic. She eyed the doctor. “He did get found in time for help, right?”
Mitch raised his chin and eyed her sternly. Calm down.
Right. Okay. She needed to not lose it. Otherwise Grandpa’s pulse would soar and the poison would travel faster. She reached for Mitch’s offered hand beneath the bed. He squeezed. The minor tremor in his fingers told her that while he was doing a better job than her of hiding it, he was seriously scared for Lem.
She gave his hand a good return squeeze this time, still under the bed rail and out of Grandpa’s sight.
It felt good to draw strength from Mitch and to impart it.
“Thizzziz lady.” Lem aimed a groggy grin at the woman.
Mitch reached across and shook her hand. “You look familiar. You’re the new local librarian, right?”
She nodded and nibbled her lip as the antivenom specialist reentered. “Folks, if I could ask some of you to step out. We need a little more room to work. One of you may stay.”
“Tight quarters,” Lauren said and scooted back, annoyed that the hat woman and Mitch stayed plastered to Grandpa’s bedside as though family. Lauren was Lem’s blood relative, yet the doctor kept asking Mitch for the legal and medical permissions.
Lauren gave the woman an abrasive stare. “Excuse me, but I’d really like to have time with him, too.”
The woman’s eyes widened, making Lauren realize how rude she sounded. “Yes.” She stepped back but her eyes filled with tears. “By all means. I’m so sorry.”
Remorse riddled Lauren as she spent time with Grandpa and tried to ignore the sniffling behind her. Either the woman was very attached to Grandpa or very hurt by Lauren’s outburst.
Lord, maybe Mitch should just suture my mouth shut.
Lem eyed the lady, then Lauren sternly. “What’d you say, urchin?”
“Nothing, Lem. She’s fine. Let her be,” the lady said.
Lauren blinked and offered a kind smile. Genuine this time. The woman didn’t have to defend her. Lauren didn’t deserve it.
“We’ll step out,” Mitch said to Lem’s lady friend and ushered Lauren out, to her further dismay.
“Mitch, are you Grandpa’s power of attorney agent or something?” Lauren blurted out as they stepped in the hall.
Mitch’s eyes narrowed in an assessing manner before he spoke. “Yes. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
Her eyes narrowed back, giving him a plain answer. Of course it bothered her. Why hadn’t Grandpa asked her?
“Lauren, he needed someone who’d be physically present in order to make decisions in events of emergency. Like this.”
“But you’ve been overseas.”
“We just signed the papers a month before you decided to drop in with little notice.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to crash your and Grandpa’s lives.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that. Why are you angry?”
“Because it should be me.”
Mitch enunciated clearly, probably so the frustration he felt building inside would not cause his teeth—or hers in her axe of jealousy—to grind. “It still can be.”
She hated when he was right. “So I suppose you know also about the new library Grandpa’s founding in Eagle Point?”
“I know everything about Lem. Except this.” Mitch grinned at the elderly pair through the doorway.
She socked his arm. “They could just be friends.”
Mitch leaned in. “Pretty cozy for ‘just friends.’”
“Let me see.” She shouldered him aside. “What’s cozy?”
Mitch pointed over her shoulder. “Look. Grandpa’s elbow is brushing hers,” he whispered.
A sudden thought perfused her face with warmth. Clearly, Mitch thought Lem’s brush of elbows meant more than friends.
What, then, did it mean when Mitch did the same while they worked surgical cases side by side?
Or had Mitch simply used that contact as a means to infuse courage to Lauren because he knew she felt ill-equipped?
Lauren studied him, but his face gave nothing away.
Something else hit. What Mitch said about knowing everything about Lem. Indeed he did. Except maybe the thing Grandpa told her on the way here. “Mitch, did you know that Grandpa is donating this year’s Library Fun Day proceeds entirely to the trauma center?”
His expression didn’t waver. “He mentioned that.”
“You seem intimately acquainted with all his dealings.” Her tone sounded sour to her own ears, but she couldn’t help it. Was there any aspect of Grandpa’s life Mitch wasn’t involved in?
Mitch eyed her funny but didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to. The scowl forming over his eyes said enough. He was plenty tired of her jealousy. She was growing sick of it, too. Sick of the struggle of not being able to let go and lay it down.
“Do you know what this year’s Library Fun Day will entail?”
She clenched her jaw. “No. Do you?”
“Hey, cool your jets. I asked out of curiosity. Not to incite you.”
“Grandpa never shares what the Library Fun Days are to be until a few weeks out. He likes surprises. And don’t tell me you already knew that, or I might have to box your ears.”
Mitch almost smiled at that.
Maybe she was on to something here. Maybe humor could defuse some of her envy.
Mitch’s place in Lem’s life, however innocent, irritated Lauren beyond reason. Perhaps her mind’s wonky way to prevent her heart from finding one more reason to like Mitch?
“Quarter for your thoughts.” Mitch watched her carefully.
“You seem to know more about Grandpa than I do.” Jealousy stabbed its ugly blade in Lauren’s heart again. She fought it.
After all, she had had a chance and she’d chosen Texas and nursing school, then a shop, over Lem and making a life here.
