I reached for my iPhone and thumbed it on.
Quinn looked askance at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m calling Dr. Young.”
“But it’s late, babe.”
“Not in Mountain Time. It’s only just coming up on seven-thirty. He’s in Utah, remember?”
He stretched his arms over his head. “Oh. Right again.”
I scrolled through my contacts and found the number I’d carefully saved from last summer when Dr. Young had called me. To my surprise, he was in. I’d been afraid that he would be at his clinic in Ecuador, or prowling the jungles of the Amazon for new oils, or riding camels in the dessert en route to a new find of boswellia trees.
His wife Mary answered, then after a few moments of pleasantries, passed the phone to her husband.
“Dr. Young?”
“Hi, Marcella. Mary says you have some serious news for us about Skyler Lissoneau.”
“Yes. Sir, I’m sorry to tell you, but Sky was shot in an effort to save my husband’s young cousin from some very bad men. He was instrumental in saving her.”
I heard a sudden intake of breath on his side. “How badly was he hurt?”
I took a deep breath. “Two bullets hit his spine. They say he’ll never walk again.”
A long period of silence followed. Finally, with a catch in his throat, he spoke. “Marcella?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Wait a minute. Don’t call me sir. Remember I told you to call me Gary last time?”
I smiled. “Okay. Yes, Gary?”
“Do you know what happened to me when I was a young man?”
I nodded into the phone. “You mean about the tree falling on you, right?”
“Right.”
Silence again.
Gary sighed. “I don’t want to promise anything. But after thirteen years of hard work, I beat the same diagnosis as Sky. And you know how I’m doing today.”
“I do! I’ve seen pictures of you riding camels and hiking miles into the jungles.”
“Everyone’s different. But let’s see what our oils and supplements can do to help him. At least we know we can boost his mood when he most needs it, and reduce some of the swelling at the site of the injury. That part’s guaranteed. Hold on one second, dear.” I heard him discussing his schedule in the background with his wife. “Okay. I’m going to try to get out to New York at the end of the week, actually. I wanted to visit the lab and discuss the Project Hope results, anyway.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure, Marcella. You tell Sky I said to hang in there, and that I’ll see him soon.”
“Will do, Gary.”
We hung up and I hugged the phone to me. Maybe. Just maybe, the oils could help Sky. I prayed that he’d have a chance, and fell asleep dreaming of Tall Pines, missing the gentle sound of the murmuring river.
Chapter Forty
Two days later, we sat in Sky’s room waiting for the doctor to arrive to break the news to him. Quinn, Callie, and I exchanged nervous glances every time someone walked toward the room.
Sky looked at Callie, then me. “What? Why are you guys all so jumpy today?”
I glanced at his rugged face, averting my eyes. Callie leaned over to kiss his cheek. “We just love you, honey. That’s all.”
He smirked and looked at the clock. “Well, I love you guys, too. But you’re still jumpy.”
Quinn started to say something, but this time the approaching footsteps actually turned into the room and the doctor entered. Tall and slim with iron gray hair, Dr. Miller’s eyes darted from Sky to the chart he held in his hands, and back to his patient again.
“Mr. Lissoneau. Good to see you looking so alert. How are you feeling today?”
Sky grinned. “Not bad. When can I get out of this damned brace, doc? I have to get back to work. They need me up on the project.”
Dr. Miller pulled up a chair to Sky’s bedside. “I’d like to speak with you in private, if that’s okay.”
Sky raised one eyebrow. “Why?”
Miller cleared his throat and looked at his hands. “To chat about your prognosis.”
Sky waved a hand at us. “These are my friends and family, doc. I want them here to listen to what you have to say. So they can help me remember. I’m still a little muddled in the head from all the crap you’re giving me through this IV.”
Dr. Miller glanced at us, nodding. “Okay.” He scooted a little closer. “Sky, it looks like your spine is pretty badly damaged.”
Sky laughed. “You think? Come on, doc. Tell me something I don’t know already.”
Miller paled. “Er. Well, what I’m trying to tell you is there’s a chance you won’t walk again. A pretty good chance.”
Sky shook his head. “No way. I’m walking. As soon as you get this blasted cast. You just watch me.”
The doctor slid an X-ray out of the chart and popped it into a light box on the wall. “See this vertebrae, here? And this one?” He started to go into a long description of all the nerves and muscles and the problems associated with each. I didn’t catch most of what he said, except that he was trying to break the news to Sky in a flurry of technical terms that bowled us all over.
Sky stared at the X-ray. “What? So I’ll be in a wheelchair for a while?”
The doctor flashed a half smile. “Probably for the rest of your life. I’m very sorry.”
Sky’s bravado faltered. His eye ticked. And all color drained from his face.
The doctor rose and nodded to us all. “Sorry to be the bearer of such grim news, but I felt we owed you the truth, Mr. Lissoneau.”
Silence filled the room.
The doctor backed out, slowly. We murmured our thanks, and turned back to Sky.
We stayed with him until he couldn’t stand our kind ministrations anymore, and he kicked us out a little while later.
“I just need to be alone with this, guys. Thanks, but I’d like you to go home.”
I watched his face. Impassive, chalk white, his mouth set in a determined line. And I tried to imagine how it felt to lose so much in one’s lifetime. He’d lost his standing in the military when he’d had to go AWOL to avoid getting murdered by some rogue independents. He’d lost me when he left for the service long before that. And now he’d lost the one thing he loved so dearly, the ability to run through the mountain trails of his beloved Adirondacks.
I tried to picture him doing calisthenics in a wheelchair; participating in veterans races on wheels. Rolling up to the lab counters to do more experiments in test tubes. Rolling out to his boat to try to launch it and collect pond specimens.
It was a bleak picture, and it killed me.
I’d never been able to imagine that his sweet desire to help us save Kitty’s life would put him at such risk. I’d known we were at risk. Hell, we’d all been shot at. But this time it really sank home.
Sky would be crippled.
For the rest of his life.
Chapter Forty-One
Sky’s nurse Illana had been a Godsend, and I noticed when she tended to him her voice softened, her eyes melted, and she took extra-special care of his needs. Originally from Bosnia, she spoke with a slight accent. Her face was strongly angled, her hair the color of wet straw. She moved with an airy confidence, but her bright blue eyes were her best feature. I wondered if she was married.
On Thursday, Dr. Gary Young scheduled his visit for one o’clock. Quinn, Callie, and I sat in the hospital room with Sky, making small talk and trying not to let our excitement show. Although I’d seen videos of Dr. Young on the Young Living website, I’d never met him in person. He was an icon. A prophet. A pioneering leader who had inspired countless research efforts which were for the good of mankind. My heart beat with anticipation, and I was nervous as hell.
Dr. Young entered with Mary a few minutes early, standing tall and strong beside his slim, tiny wife. The first impression I had of him was of gentleness, of humility. Thi
s prophetic, incredibly talented man had devoted his life to bettering mankind, had distilled oils for thirty years on seven continents, had built schools for poor children in lands where he farmed exotic plants, had discovered elements in rare plants used thousands of years ago with promising cures for cancer, diabetes, and more…yet he entered the room humble and unassuming.
After greeting us, he turned to Sky. “Skyler.” He leaned down to embrace him. “I hear you’ve been playing hero again.”
Sky offered a lopsided smile. “Nah. Just did what had to be done.”
Gary pulled up a chair to Sky’s bed and took his hand. “God’s plan is sometimes hard to fathom, isn’t it?”
Sky’s mouth tensed. “I guess.”
Mary patted Sky’s shoulder and pecked his cheek. “I’m so sorry, honey. You deserve better than this.”
“Thanks, Mary.” Sky dropped his eyes, and the quiet in the room burgeoned with sadness and tension.
Callie sniffled beside me.
“It’s okay, honey,” I said, patting her shoulder.
She wiped at her eyes and slipped her arm through mine. “Thanks, Marcie.”
Gary nodded to us. “Marcella. Thanks for calling.”
My voice barely broke a whisper. “You’re welcome.”
Mary gracefully lowered herself to a chair beside me. “Tell him your story, honey.”
Gary looked from me to Callie and back to Sky. “I’d like to, if that’s okay with you?”
Sky spoke up. “I heard some bits and pieces before, but I’d like to hear it again.”
The great man smiled and lowered his eyes. “Okay.” He stood and began to speak. “When I was just a young man, in 1973, I was a logger. I homesteaded up in Canada, and using horses, brought out the trees for harvest.”
He walked to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and waited a moment. “One day things went really haywire, and I was on the wrong side of a falling tree. It landed on me. Almost killed me.”
Mary’s eyes teared up, and thick emotion vibrated in her husband’s voice.
“They basically made me comfortable in the hospital, expecting me to die. With three skull breaks, nineteen broken bones, and multiple spinal injuries, they didn’t hold out much hope for me.” He turned to Sky. “It was the lowest point in my life. They said I’d never walk again.”
Callie hiccupped a sob and my eyes welled with unshed tears.
Gary sat beside Sky again. “I lost my farm. I lost my first wife. And I lost my will to live.” His eyes filled with tears and he waited a moment to collect himself. “And Sky, when you fall so close to bottom, it really does feel like you’ve died.” He leaned over to take Sky’s hand again. “But let me tell you…when you’re that low, the only place to go is up.” After a moment of silence, he leaned closer to Sky and whispered, “Nothing is impossible.”
Sky tried to sit up, and Illana, who’d been listening from the doorway, rushed forward to raise his bed. “There you go, big guy.” She flashed a teary smile at him and backed away.
Sky motioned for Gary to come closer, and wrapped one big arm around Gary’s neck. “Thank you.”
They hugged, and when the embrace broke, Gary continued his story. “It took me a long time, son. I’m not saying it was easy, and I’m not saying you’ll have the same experience as me.” He patted Sky’s arm. “It was the hardest thing I ever went through. I sat in that wheelchair feeling sorry for myself. And it took my father to give me a kick in the pants to get me fighting again. I’ll be grateful to him forever, because he got me angry. Angry enough to fight like mad.”
I watched and listened as the story poured out of Gary. My heart broke as he offered more details of his road to recovery, and how he learned about essential oils during his recuperation, using them to create blends that helped his legs and spine.
He stood again and stretched. “It took me thirteen years to get my body functioning again. I use my oils every single day to keep me healthy, and as you know, I can hike like the best of them now. Not without problems, of course. But I do it.” He leaned over Sky and locked eyes with him. “And you can, too. Like I said, nothing is impossible, never forget that.”
Sky clasped Gary’s hand and his voice emerged croaky and full of emotion. “Thank you, sir.”
Mary handed Gary a small black zippered case. “Here, honey. Show him what you brought.”
“Ah, yes.” Gary took the bag from his wife and unzipped it on Sky’s rolling tray table. “Here we go. First of all, a full bottle of Sacred Frankincense. This is one of the best batches we’ve distilled. You wouldn’t believe the numbers on this one, Sky.”
He unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to Sky. “Apply it liberally on your feet, back of your neck, and when your wounds are not quite as tender, apply it right on your spine.”
The next bottles I recognized immediately. Lavender and helichrysum. “You already know about lavender and its ability to heal scars and skin. But you need to add helichrysum, too. Its restorative properties provide support to the skin, liver, and nervous system. It scores 17,430 on the ORAC scale, Sky, and you know how impressive that is. Helichrysum also provides a defense against harmful free radicals, and with your body weakened like this, you’ll need to pump up your immune system.”
Illana came closer to examine the bottles. “Awesome.”
Gary glanced at her with a playful expression. “You might need to help Sky apply these daily, my dear. He’s lucky to have you at his side.”
She blushed—something I’d never seen her do—and walked to Sky’s side to adjust his IV lines. “Of course. I’ll help any way I can. Sky’s one of my favorite patients, Dr. Young.”
Sky’s eyes flitted to her momentarily. Surprise dawned in his eyes.
I wondered if there’d ever come a time when he’d fall for another woman and give me the freedom to shed the guilt I’d carried around all these years after saying no to his marriage proposal long ago.
Last of all, Gary handed a small bottle to Sky that I didn’t recognize. “Douse yourself in this every night. It’s new, Idaho Blue Spruce. You know, the Lakota people always knew the spiritual essence of spruce. And now I have scientific evidence why they loved it so much. This oil has so many unbelievable elements in it, including four cancer-fighting compounds. Right now they’re doing tests on pancreatic cancer patients in Oklahoma City. I want you to apply this several times a day. Religiously. It’s got so much in it that’s good for you, you can’t go wrong.”
A fresh, sharp scent filled the room when Gary uncapped the bottle. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
I felt my spirits lift, bringing me hope and anticipation of things to come.
Was there a chance for Sky? Would he walk again?
I listened to Gary Young for another half hour, feeling more inspired with each passing minute.
The man’s belief in the Almighty, his love and trust of man living as one with nature, and his firm beliefs in the power of essential oils, gave me renewed strength. I squeezed Quinn’s hand and saw the same emotions swimming in his eyes.
Life was good. And we’d all be just fine.
Chapter Forty-Two
My mother fussed over the napkins on the dining room table, tut-tutting and refolding the fancy cloth squares I’d just arranged beside each plate.
“Marcella. You should have had Quinn do this. He knows how to fold.”
I rolled my eyes and brushed past her to place a blue glass vase of yellow and orange nasturtiums on the table. She’d been picking at me all morning.
“Oh, Thelma. For Heaven’s sakes. I don’t think Poloma will care how the napkins are folded. She just wants to be reunited with her daughter. She told me she couldn’t wait to see Kitty again. She’s been worried out of her mind.”
Kitty sat on the couch, playing Angry Birds on my phone with Dak cuddled beside her. She’d become addicted to the game and had asked me (in words!) if I would download the next level for her.
I did. And I almost
bought her her own iPhone.
I still might.
I’d become so in love with mothering her that my stomach clenched at the idea of her leaving us. When we weren’t visiting Sky, we took special time together to do girl-things. On Wednesday, I’d taken her to the salon for hair styling. Her dark, lustrous hair now fell in a fashionable new do, parted on the side and fastened with white feathers on hair clips that we’d found in a specialty shop in Rochester. Side-by-side, we’d been pampered pretty all day.
It was in the car on the way home that I asked Kitty about what happened to her in the woods that day when she lost her voice. In her own halting way, she shared the story of falling from a cliff and being frozen on the ledge for hours near a rattler. The snake and its babies had been near her, and she’d been powerless to move. It hadn’t bitten her, but finally, after the mother snake slithered away to find food, Kitty had been able to crawl her way to the top of the cliff and make her way home. The intense fear had traumatized her, and her voice had been lost.
I’d been so honored that she shared her story with me, it brought us even closer.
The next day, we went to the nail place and had our nails done with bright pink polish. Kitty had some fancy star designs added to hers, and over the past few days I found her frequently admiring them in the light reflecting off Honeoye Lake.
I loved having a young woman to share girly-things with. Quinn wasn’t exactly into fashion, hairstyles, or nail color.
Thank God.
Another spell of Indian summer hit, shoving October temperatures into the eighties. We all had gone swimming in the cool water. Kitty and I had run up Cratsley Hill every morning. We’d kayaked with Quinn up and down the lake in the early morning fog. And I’d fallen in love with mothering the daughter I’d never had.
Little by little, color and health returned to Kitty’s cheeks. Her eyes glowed, and every so often, she spoke with me.
Tall Pines Mysteries: A Mystery/Suspense Boxed Set Page 67
