Tides of Hope: It's Never Too Late For Second Chances (A Nantucket Island Romance Book 1)

by Dawn Tomasko

  Lately, his relationship with Nicole seemed based on her obsession with the atrociously expensive wedding she planned the honeymoon, house and car she wanted more than the love she bore him. In fact, she never said the words to him.

  Long past time, Michael decided, to have a long talk with his father.

  The days of summer slid by in a crazy blur of sun, sea and stunning summer weather. Some days, Sara and Gabriel worked on the cottage. On days he did other jobs, she worked in the yard and on her business plan. They spent lazy Sundays on the beach, or in stormy weather, made love in bed all day if Bree stayed with the Silva’s or over a friend’s house. Tucked under fresh cotton sheets, they talked, laughed or held each other in silence as the wind whistled and rain pelted the cottage at the end of the lane.

  They discovered they both liked comedy. Either at home or the theater in Town, they watched funny movies, ate popcorn, and laughed until tears streamed from Sara's eyes.

  When Charlotte’s time allowed, they made plans for her backyard and the baby's nursery.

  Bree would soon need to leave for her summer job. The Dean's family kindly postponed her start date so she could enjoy extra time with her mother, Gabriel, and the Silvas. The night before her flight back to Boston, Gabriel and Sara took her out for a casual dinner in Town. Afterward, they spent time window shopping and talking.

  “Thanks for dinner, Gabe,” Brianna smiled up at him, and linked her arm with his.

  Gabriel’s heart melted. He found her open and sweet and appreciated her easy acceptance of him. While she possessed qualities unique to herself, so much of Sara's influence ran through her.

  “You’re welcome,” he ran a finger down her nose. "I hope you have a great time in France. Remember we're here if you need us. We'd be happy to visit you back at school. You can show us around Boston."

  Sara smiled at Gabriel, as pleased as he was. Gabriel and Bree walked on ahead as she stopped to tie a loose lace on her sneaker. As she perched on the corner of Main and Center Streets, a group of kids ran toward her up the sidewalk. To make room for them, Sara backed up to let them pass, not realizing her proximity to the corner.

  Right then, a delivery truck rounded the corner, and when she surged to her feet, her heel caught on a brick pushed up by tree roots in the sidewalk. Alarmed, she fell backward toward the street, her arms windmilled as she struggled to regain her balance.

  The next car clipped her, spun her around, and her body went airborne before it made a sickening impact on the cobblestone street. The driver of the car jammed the brakes, leaped from the car, shouting for help.

  Hearing the commotion, Gabriel and Brianna turned to see Sara lying in the road, the drivers of the car and truck bent over her. Brianna screamed for her mother, and Gabriel sprinted toward her.

  “Oh my God, Sara,” he panted, and dove to his knees on the stones. Her body lay at an odd angle, and his stomach pitched and rolled. He ran his hands over her body. “Baby? Sara? Somebody call 9-1-1. Sweetheart, can you hear me?” he called loudly and ran a shaky hand over her cheek.

  “Mom! Wake up, please,” Brianna cried, as shock and disbelief distorted her face. “Mom,” she keened and rocked back and forth. "Oh, my God, oh, God."

  The driver of the car brought a blanket. Gabe spread it over her.

  Shaken, the driver knelt down next to Gabe. “I didn’t see her, I swear to God I didn’t. Is she okay?”

  Bile burned a bath up Gabriel's throat. A cold sweat broke out over his body. “I don’t know. She hasn’t moved.” With difficulty, he swallowed past the knot in his throat. “Where the hell is the ambulance!”

  “Mama,” Bree sobbed. Gabriel wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say. The situation looked bad, and his fear and grief threatened to swamp him.

  “Sara, baby, we’re here. Me and Bree. You’re going to be okay. They’re coming to help, baby. Stay with me,” he pleaded, his throat raw. His hands skimmed her body. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, trying to coax a response. After he had run his hand along the sides of her head, his hand came away coated with blood.

  Sirens wailed in the distance, then closer. An ambulance roared up Main Street to the circle of people surrounding Sara. Paramedics cleared the crowd, pushed them back to assess her condition.

  “Get the gurney!”

  In a fog, Gabe watched as with great care, they lifted her head from the stones. A paramedic fastened a collar around her neck. They slid a board under her body, strapped her down and placed it on the gurney and lifted her into the back of the vehicle. Blood covered the stones where her head had been. Sick to his soul, Gabriel stayed right behind them.

  “Sir, it would be best if you followed in your car,” one of the men told him as he climbed into the ambulance.

  “Not happening,” he said flatly and helped Brianna climb in. “Get going.”

  Brianna held Gabe's hand as they both watched helplessly while three paramedics worked on Sara. One started an intravenous line, the other checked her head and limbs, and the other used a light to examine her pupils.

  "How the hell did this happen?” Gabriel wheezed out.

  One second they were having an enjoyable evening, and the next, the love of his life lay still and grey-faced on a gurney on the way to the hospital. Not once did she move, speak or open her eyes. To his horror, he noticed the blood on the pillow under her head, and he stared, transfixed as the wet stain began to spread.

  “Her head's bleeding badly. Are we going to the Cottage Hospital? Shouldn’t we get Life Star to take her to Boston?”

  “We have to get an idea of the extent of her injuries. Then the doctors will make recommendations.”

  A bitter taste filled Gabriel's mouth. The pitch and sway of the vehicle made his head spin. I think I'm going to puke. A loud roar sounded in his ears, and the edges of his vision blurred. How the hell could this be happening? The only way he kept it together was the need to be strong for Brianna.

  The paramedics pushed the gurney into the hospital at a full run. A guard stopped Gabe and Bree at the double doors behind which Sara and the paramedics disappeared.

  The guard held up a hand. “You’ll have to wait in the waiting area.”

  The separation from her was excruciating. “No, I’m her fiancé and this is her daughter. Please let us in. We need to be with her.”

  He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but you’ll only be in the way. Let the doctors do their job. I promise, as soon as there’s word, I’ll get you.”

  They stood there by the doors, stared at each other for long minutes. Air wheezed in and out of Gabriel's lungs, his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

  Finally, Gabriel reached for Brianna's hand. “Come on, sweetheart,” he told her in a voice choked with emotion. “Let’s wait for word about your mom. Call your dad and I'll call Charlotte and Gary.”

  There’d been an awful noise. A thump. Then spinning, falling. Awareness something bad happened. Darkness. It must be night, she mused. No moon at all. Nothing to light the way.

  The way to where? She moved forward, not on her feet, but more like floating, gliding. Peace, coolness, quiet.

  The idea that someone waited for her nagged at her conscience. But those feelings were fleeting. Who is it? Who's waiting for me? She couldn’t hold on, couldn't find the focus. Move forward, keep moving. Someone else waited for her now. Up ahead, in the light, beautiful and warm as the sun.

  Not behind, but ahead.

  Three hours later, two emergency physicians led Gabriel, Brianna, Charlotte and Gary to a private room to discuss Sara’s condition.

  The look of the room made Gabriel ill. He didn’t want to be in a place where bad news got delivered to families about the people they loved. Did they honestly think plush furniture, flowers, and classy window treatments made anyone feel any better? The room looked like a damned funeral parlor.

  He longed to be back at the cottage, work beside Sara, make dinner with her, walk on the sand with her, take her
to bed, love her through the night.

  Their life together had just begun. Please, God please, it couldn’t end now.

  The chairs circled a coffee table with a large floral arrangement in the center. Large white lilies with hot pink centers gave off a cloyingly sweet scent. Nothing like the beautiful flowers Sara showed him she wanted for the backyard gardens during their visit to the flower farm. Gabriel leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees. Gary held Charlotte’s hand, and she held Brianna’s.

  “Okay, let’s have it,” Gabriel demanded, near crazed with the need for news.

  “When Ms. Shepard fell, her head hit the cobblestones. There’s a break in the left arm. We placed a cast on it. The break is clean and should heal well. There is bruising on her right cheek bone, but there are no other broken bones. There are multiple contusions, which is to be expected.”

  The doctor paused while the news sunk in. "The blood came from a cut on the back of her head, which we stitched. X-rays show no skull fracture, which is a miracle, frankly. We assume she must have rolled, which lessened the impact on her head."

  “But she must have a concussion if her head hit the stones, no?” Charlotte questioned.

  The grim look on the doctor’s face made Gabriel curl his fingers around the arms of the chair. “Yes, she does, but I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that. Ms. Shepard is in a coma.”

  "Oh, God,” Brianna wept openly, and Charlotte wrapped her arms around the distraught girl.

  “For how much time?” Gabriel wanted to know.

  “We don’t know. We'll monitor her carefully. A concussion is a trauma, and her head hit the stones hard. A coma is the body’s way of inducing a restful state while the body heals.”

  “Will she be all right?” Brianna asked in a childlike voice.

  The doctor turned to Brianna, his eyes kind. “Many times people recover fully from similar and even worse accidents. So we wait and watch.”

  "We just got back together, Aunt Charlotte,” Bree cried. "A few days, that's all we had, and it’s all my fault.” Bree began to hyperventilate, and Charlotte pushed the girl's head between her knees as she cried her mother’s name over and over.

  "Shh, baby,” Charlotte crooned to her, tears streaming down her face, as she rubbed Bree’s back. After a time, she settled down.

  Gabriel and the doctor stared at one another. “Charlotte, please take Brianna outside for some fresh air,” Gabe stated, his voice devoid of emotion. After the women had left, Gary moved into the seat next to Gabe.

  “Okay, Doc, spell it out.”

  “We’re hoping for the best. If her brain swells, we may have to relieve the pressure.”

  “By drilling into her head,” he said flatly.

  “Yes.”

  “How do I know you’re the best doctor here? Are there specialists in Boston?”

  In spite of Gabriel's strident tone, the doctor took no offense. “Yes, but I wouldn’t recommend we move her right now.”

  Gabriel gave a curt nod. “If I get someone here, a specialist, will you let them treat her?”

  The doctor stared at him a long moment before he answered. “Well, of course, we would welcome that kind of help. But how will you do that?”

  Determined, Gabriel stood and pulled out his phone. “It will be no problem.”

  The helicopter delivered Dr. Steven Flatly to Nantucket Cottage Hospital a few hours later. A world-renowned neurologist, he was the best available on the East Coast. Gabriel knew they'd been fortunate he managed to get the man to Sara so quickly.

  He arrived at midnight. The staff physicians brought him directly to Sara's room. After an extensive physical examination and review of the imaging, scans, and labs, he consulted with Gabriel.

  “Thank you for coming, Doctor. I appreciate it.” The two shook hands. Flatly stood a full foot shorter than Gabriel, his sandy hair disheveled by his trip and the late hour. A borrowed white lab coat, embroidered with another doctor's name, hung too low on his short frame.

  But his sharp gray eyes reflected intelligence.

  “You’re welcome. Ms. Shepard’s injuries are exactly as the ER physician stated. The coma can last a short time, or longer. The longer it lasts, the less likely it will be that she makes a full recovery. We’ve yet to know the extent of her injuries.”

  Bewildered, Gabriel stated the possibilities the doctor implied. “She may recover or be disabled or somewhere in between.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  "Yes. If she survives.”

  His chest burned, his heart ready to burst in his chest. Gabriel swore viciously, dragged a hand through his hair. The doctor raised a hand. “Mr. Donovan, it’s too early to tell or come to any conclusions. You asked for brutal honesty. What I advise is for friends and family stay with her, talk to her, touch her. Let her know you’re here.”

  “Do you think she can hear us?” Hope, fragile as the filament of a spider web, took hold in his heart. Sara loved him. He knew without a doubt she did. If the doctor gave a reason for hope, he could keep it together, until she came back to him.

  The doctor nodded slowly. “I believe so. Another encouraging fact is that she's breathing without assistance.”

  “You’re certain I shouldn’t take her to Boston?” Gabriel asked. "I'll do whatever is necessary."

  "I understand your concern.” The doctor shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I promise you the facilities here are fully equipped to care for her. The staff is more than competent. I can continue to consult on the case, but I feel she’ll do as well here as in Boston. If her condition deteriorates, we'll move her immediately. Here's my personal cell phone number.”

  Gabriel stood a deep ache in his bones, and solemnly shook the doctor's hand. “Thank you.”

  After the doctor had left, Gary clapped a hand on Gabriel’s back. “You okay?”

  Hands on his hips, his head bowed low, he muttered, “Nothing will be good until she opens her eyes.”

  Gary nodded in agreement. “How did you get this doctor to come down from Boston? Do you know somebody?”

  With great weariness, Gabriel turned to Gary. “If I learned one thing from working at DE, money talks. This is the first time in my life I used money as leverage."

  "If you don't mind my asking, how much did it take?"

  "A hundred thousand dollars,” he replied, as casually as if he'd said one hundred dollars.

  Stunned, Gary didn't say a word.

  For seven days and nights, Gabriel kept watch at Sara’s bedside. He held her hand, stroked the backs of his fingers over hers. Gabe dropped soft kisses on her mouth, washed her face with a warm cloth. To keep her skin soft, he massaged thick cream into her arms, legs, and feet. Countless times a day, he applied balm to her cracked lips.

  The swelling on her right cheek subsided somewhat, but the bruise morphed to a vicious purple and red that marred her complexion. Her long lashes lay unmoving on her cheeks. The blue L-shaped cast on her left arm rested on her stomach. Gabriel kept a pillow tucked along her side to support the weight of the cast.

  When the nurses came to bathe her, they asked him to wait outside. He refused, and took up the task himself, counted the scrapes, bruises, and marks on her beautiful body. As one day blurred into the next, he believed the healing in each scrape and bruise brought her closer to being whole again.

  The doctors told him her brain hadn’t swelled to a dangerous level. They'd been damn lucky. In time, she should wake up. But when? He’d heard horror stories of people who never woke up from a coma. When she did, would she be the same?

  “Sara,” he crooned as he trailed his fingertips up and down her arm. “Baby, I love you. Come back to me. Bree, Charlotte, and Gary, we're all waiting. We need you. I need you.”

  The rise and fall of her chest comforted him. It made it easier for him to imagine she was sleeping and could wake up any moment. "You're the most important thing in the world to me. The best thing that ever happened to me.
Do you know that? I love you. Please wake up."

  “Gabe?” Brianna called from the doorway. He rose, and seeing her eyes filled with tears, folded her in a hug. “I’ll sit with Mama for a while.”

  Charlotte told him Bree called her Mama when she was little. He found her use of the endearment bittersweet. "All right, honey. Call if you need me.” Not wanting to leave the room, he did understand Bree needed to be with her mother. Charlotte and Gary waited for him in the hall.

  Charlotte rubbed his back. “Gabe, go home and take a shower. Get some sleep. We’ll stay with her.”

  "No,” he snapped and scrubbed his hand over days' worth of unshaven beard. “I need to be here when she wakes up.”

  “Honey, that could take time. I promise she won’t be alone.”

  David stood at the end of the long hallway. He’d flown in the day after the accident. So far he’d only spoken to Brianna, but he wouldn’t leave. Gabriel didn't want him here.

  He tossed a nod in David's direction. “Why did he come? He treats her like crap any time he calls.”

  Charlotte glanced down the hall at Sara's ex-husband. “David’s here for Bree. I’m sure he feels terrible about the accident and the way he treated Sara.”

  A sharp laugh escaped him. "Do you think so? You're kinder than I am. I want to kick his ass for every shitty thing he did to her. Every nasty word he said to her on the phone the last time they talked."

  As they watched, David moved down the hall toward them. Instinctively, Gabriel moved his body in front of the door to Sara's room.

  "What the hell do you want?” he demanded.

  Remorse and sadness etched the man's face, but Gabriel didn't care. All he thought of was the man's hand striking the woman he loved. "I want to see her. Make my peace with her."