“It’s looking that way. I talked to Hannah.”
Nick nodded. “This picnic have anything to do with it?”
“Maybe.”
“Well… don’t forget your condoms,” Nick said with a snicker as he left.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Luke stood on a ladder, hanging fascia. It was more of a two-man job, but Luke whistled as he worked. He hefted another board over his head, straining to hold it in place as he nailed it in with the air gun.
The picnic had been a success. The lovemaking on the blanket he’d spread on the ground had left him loose and in a whistling kind of mood. He was relaxed enough to go inside and coax Ava onto the couch. They could close their eyes, talk, listen to music. Or do nothing at all. But he wanted to get the outdoor electrical strung for the call box and the fascia needed to come first. With the electrical done, it’d be a simple thing to hook up call boxes along the way from cabin to barn.
He wanted Ava to see that, experience that, and all the possibilities that would make her living here possible. He thought maybe she was starting to change her mind about New York. Maybe. And if not… Could he move to New York? The bigger question was could he live without Ava? He already knew he didn’t want to.
Even now she was inside, prepping dinner for the two of them. By the time they finished eating the sun would be down and they’d go for a walk. Tell her about the lights, let her feel her way to the call boxes.
“Hey, Luke. I just—”
He turned from his spot on the top of the ladder, saw Ava walking toward him and shit. He’d left the miter saw on the ground, not wanting to take the time to drag out sawhorses and plywood to make a table surface. “Wait. Stop!”
Everything happened at once. Ava was one step from disaster and in his haste to get to her, he missed a step on the ladder, fumbled the tool in his hand. The nail gun went off twice in quick succession. “Ah, shit.”
“What is it? Luke? What happened?”
“Just stop. There’s—” His words were cut off when he reached the ground. He groaned and looked down at the inside of his upper thigh. Not good. His tan cargo shorts were already wet with blood. He knew that before he even looked at the wound. Before he saw the blood already pumping down his leg in a ribbon of red. “Ava. Get my phone.”
“Okay.”
“It’s on the porch, I think. Ava…” He was already light headed and lowered himself to sitting, then laying.
“I can’t find it! Luke? Where is it? I can’t find it!”
Ava was screaming and there was already a roaring in his ears. “It might be inside. Ava. Forget it. Come here. I need you to come here.”
He watched her coming toward him, her arms out in front of her. “Stop. Go to your left, little more. Okay. Feel around with your hands. I’m here.”
Luke looked at his hand, at the blood squeezing between his fingers. It was a lot. Maybe too much.
She reached him, grabbed for him, touching his left shoulder. “What happened?”
“I shot my leg.”
“What?” She reached out, searching for the wound.
“With the nail gun. Listen.” He reached out for her hand. “I need you to put your hand right here and press down hard, okay? Take my shirt.” He stripped his T-shirt over his head, balled it up and put it over her hands. “Okay. Press down on that. Hard.”
Her breath caught on a sob.
“It’s okay. We’ll tighten the belt around it and you’ll find the phone. It’s all good.”
He fumbled with the buckle, sliding it from the loops as best he could. Levering up so she could get it from the back.
Her hands were shaking when she got it loose. He tried to help her with one hand, keeping the other pressing on the wound.
Her hands, covered in his blood were shaking so badly they slipped on the leather. “Ava. Hey. Stay calm here, okay?”
It was good she couldn’t see him at that moment. He knew his face would be losing color. “Okay. Take the belt. You’re going to have to wrap it around. I’ll hold onto this end and every time you wrap you pull. Tighter. Do it tighter, Ava.”
“Okay! Tell me what to do!”
“I’m telling you. You’re doing fine. Go around again. One more time. Okay. Good. Now stick it through the buckle.” Her fingers fluttered over the square buckle. “Okay. Now you’re going to pull and pull hard.”
Luke sucked air— in through his nose, out through his mouth. Keep it slow, keep it even. A rapid heart rate wouldn’t help right now. He knew enough to know he wouldn’t stop the bleeding but needed to slow it down.
And also knew that if the nail had severed his femoral artery he’d already be dead. The fact that he was still conscious, still seeing clearly, told him it was most likely nicked.
“Okay. Now I need you to find a phone. Yours, mine, whatever. You can do it. Stay calm. We’ve got time here.” Honestly, he didn’t know how much time they had. And if she couldn’t find the phone…
“Okay. Okay. I’ll find it. I’ll get it.”
Ava was up and moving over the grass to the cabin, too fast and not at all careful. He couldn’t afford for her to be too careful right now.
He turned over, using his hands and his uninjured leg to make his way to the porch. He hadn’t made it halfway when he let his eyes close and fought the darkness pulling at him.
37
Ava moved through the cabin, using only her hands to feel for obstacles.
“Siri, call Luke!” She stood still, listening for her iPhone to follow the command. For a ring or vibration that would help her find it. Nothing. She moved around the room as fast as she could. She didn’t have her cane, didn’t know where it was. Couldn’t see.
If she could just see. The phone could be right in front of her. She felt around, swiping her hands that were sticky with blood over furniture. Over the kitchen counter. She screamed for Siri again, relying on a machine to save the life of the man she loved.
She couldn’t find it. She couldn’t find it! Frustrated, terrified tears ran down her face.
I can’t find it.
She’d go for Luke’s, she thought. She’d find Luke’s phone. Outside.
She didn’t know how much time had passed but it felt like hours. She made her way back, moving as fast as she dared. “Luke?” She crawled on her hands and knees toward the spot she thought she’d left him. Her hand pressed down on something jagged and sharp and she cried out, but kept moving.
“Luke!” She sobbed when she felt him. She thought he was closer to the porch now but he wasn’t moving. She pulled at his arm, her voice breaking. “Luke!”
She felt for the wound. Warm and wet. His blood had soaked through his shorts, his shirt. She put her hand over it and panic roiled in her gut as she felt warm Luke’s blood well between her fingers. The belt wasn’t working. She touched his face, his chest. “Luke? Please. Say something!”
“I’m here,” he said, but his voice sounded funny. Tired. “My phone’s on the porch. Get it.”
“Okay.” She was already standing. “Okay.”
She stumbled, tripped, went down hard. She made it up the steps then moved her hands in a wide, sweeping motion. She knew it was a chaotic search, knew that she could be within inches, centimeters of what she was looking for and miss it.
It was here. It was on the porch somewhere. She started at one end, feeling along the edges, making sure she went all the way across side to side. She scooted back, repeated the blind sweep side to side.
“Luke?” She called out to him when she was thought she was nearing the end. “Luke? Luke! I’m looking! It’s not here! It’s not here!” But he wasn’t answering her. “I’ll get help. Okay? I’ll get help.” Where was she going to get help?
The truck? She scrambled down the porch steps, missed the last step and fell, but she was pointed in the right direction. She was almost sure. Hadn’t they gotten out of the truck and walked straight to the porch? To the left, then straight?
She half ran, half crawled until she felt the front fender. She got in, thanked God Luke had left the key in the ignition, and turned over the engine. She knew how to put it in drive, knew which side was the gas. She pressed her foot on the gas and the truck lurched. She cried out and hit the brake. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t get help.
She had to. She let up on the brake, let the truck roll slowly over the ground and laid on the horn. Someone would hear. Someone would see. They had to because she didn’t know what else to do.
She slammed her hand down on the steering wheel again and again, stopping in between to listen for any sign someone had heard. She wanted to go back to Luke. She was just about to abandon the horn blowing to look for the phone again when she thought she heard yelling.
She froze. It was distant, faint, but there was definitely something. She pressed the horn again, three quick blasts, hoping and praying whoever was close enough to hear would get the message.
When she heard a car horn call back to her, she heaved a sobbing breath and crawled out of the truck cab and back to Luke.
She heard a car coming up fast, heard doors open and shouts. “Over here! He’s over here!” Her knees gave way and she sank to the ground.
Everything happened in super slow motion after that.
She heard Hannah and Stephen, heard Hannah saying her brother’s name over and over, more frantic every second that she didn’t get an answer.
“What happened? Ava, what happened?”
She heard Stephen call 911 then heard him say, “No time.”
“It was… I don’t know. He… He said it was the nail gun.”
“Get him in the car. Hang on, buddy.”
Then Luke’s silent body was being lifted away.
She felt the movement around her. Heard shouting to get his legs. She stood, reached out to help but only found air. She heard the grunts of effort and the sound of breathing. And Hannah continuing to say her brother’s name over and over.
She never heard Luke’s voice. She stood there, frozen. She couldn’t run to him, couldn’t help carry him.
“Ava!” A hand grabbed her arm, pulled her. She felt the side of a car. Felt for the door handle, felt another hand swipe hers away.
“Get in.” Then the door was opened and she climbed in. There was no time. No time. Then Hannah was gone and Stephen was yelling instructions. The back door closed.
The engine revved and Hannah laid on the gas. Ava had to brace herself against the dash.
“Luke? Luke? Open your eyes, damn it.”
It was Stephen, Ava knew his voice.
“Come one man!” When she heard flesh on flesh, a hand slapping a face, she pressed both hands over her mouth. To stop herself from vomiting or screaming. She didn’t know what was happening. Were Luke’s eyes open? Had the bleeding slowed? She wanted to ask but couldn’t make her lips move.
She wanted to cover her ears so wouldn’t hear people calling out to Luke and him not answering.
What seemed like a lifetime later she was standing in a cold hospital hallway. Luke had been taken into surgery. That’s all she knew. That’s all she’d been told.
Luke’s blood that had coated her hands had dried. She could feel it cracking. She could smell it. She tried to hide them, crossing her arms across herself. She didn’t want to wash it off. Not yet.
There was other family there now. Mia and Nick. Zach was there too. Nora was coming from a different hospital as soon as she could. Ava heard their voices, trying to be quiet but the sound carried.
“Why didn’t she call for help?”
“She couldn’t find the phone, I think. I don’t know.”
“He goes off to God knows where and does God knows what and comes back here and this happens?” Hannah’s voice was nearly shrill and someone shushed her.
Ava swallowed back a sob and bit her lip. There’d be no stopping the tears once they started.
“Hey, Ava.”
Mia. The woman’s arm came around her shoulders. It didn’t help the twisting in her gut. An alarm went off over the speakers and a voice echoed code blue. The soles of feet slapped on the floor as people moves quickly past her.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”
If he was, it’d be no thanks to her.
Ava heard the door to Luke’s hospital room open from where she sat in a plastic chair next to his bed. Mia had been right. He’d made it through the surgery.
“What the hell, bro?” Zach asked, coming into the room. “You done with your near death experience?”
“Pfft. Near death my ass,” he said. “Pass me some water, will you?”
Ava heard Zach slide the plastic pitcher, heard the water pouring over ice. Luke hadn’t asked her to get him more water.
“Do I need to take away your power tools?”
“Nah,” Luke said, his voice softer than usual. “Just me being an idiot, not paying attention.”
“What do you think, Ava? Is he too old to climb a ladder?”
“I wasn’t climbing, I was coming down.”
Ava’s stomach clenched as the realization hit her. Luke had been coming down the ladder, hadn’t been paying attention. Because of her. Because she’d come outside while he was working and he’d yelled at her to stop. To keep her from getting hurt. So that’s what had happened. She’d been about to run into something and Luke had yelled at her to stop. He’d stopped paying attention to what he was doing and… And he’d almost died.
He could have died. She distantly heard Luke offering her fries over the roaring in her ears. She’d stupidly thought that she would end up needing him too much, that he’d expend all his energy watching out for her and assisting her until he grew tired of it. She hadn’t considered that he’d be hurt because of her. Had never thought there would be a time he would need her and she wouldn’t be able to help him.
Was he already thinking about how to get out of this? How to take back what he’d said? If he wasn’t thinking it now, he would. And she wouldn’t go through that again. She wouldn’t put either of them through that.
She slid her hand from the edge of his bed and stood.
“Hey. You okay?” Luke caught her hand and she trembled at the feel of his big hand around hers.
“Yeah.” She slid her hand from his. “I… I um…”
“Hey.” Zach touched her shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? You look kinda pale. Want me to grab you something to eat?”
“No. Thank you. I’m fine.” Were the two brothers exchanging a look? When she walked out of the room would Luke ask his brother for advice on how to get out of this? She shivered with a sudden chill. “I just need to go the bathroom.” She had her cane and her other hand out, feeling her way.
“Use this one,” Zach said. “I can step out.”
“No, really. I’ll be back. It’s fine.” She managed a smile and prayed it was believable.
She made it out the door, her insides trembling. Because her blindness and Luke trying to protect her had nearly gotten him killed.
38
Luke wasn’t in the best of moods, laying flat on his back. His leg ached and he was bored while Ava bustled around, asking him every two minutes if he was okay, did he need anything. And that’s about all she’d said to him since he’d come home from the hospital two days ago.
“Are you sure I can’t make you something to eat? My mom’s going to be here any minute.”
“I’m good. But you could come sit down for two seconds.” He didn’t consider himself particularly sensitive, especially when it pertained to the moods of women. But he knew when something was off. And something was off with Ava. He’d give her a little time to work up to telling him and if that didn’t work he’d pull it out of her.
“Luke?” She sat down on the coffee table in front of him. “I’ve been thinking.”
And here it comes, he thought.
“I think I should go back to New York. It’s just… It’s the best place for me and…”
&
nbsp; She shrugged and he wondered if this was what she’d been working up to saying for days now. “I see.” Of course she had a right to do what she wanted, to live and work where she wanted. But she was acting like it was a foregone conclusion that her life wouldn’t include him. And that was a punch.
* * *
Luke’s voice was calm. He didn’t sound angry or upset. Didn’t sound shocked or hurt. There was nothing Ava could discern in his tone that made her think maybe she was making a mistake. Because he knew she wasn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” she whispered.
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“Luke—”
“You know the first thing I thought when we met? Brave. I thought, that’s one brave lady. No way is she a coward.”
She pulled back. “And now you think I am?”
“You’re running. Again.”
His words struck true and hard and she nearly rubbed at the sting in her chest. “You almost died.”
“That’s just bullshit.”
“It’s not! Your blood was on my hands! I called your name and you couldn’t answer me. I couldn’t get you help!”
“You did get help!” He matched her anger with anger of his own.
“I couldn’t drive you to the hospital.”
“It was my own damn fault and if I was unconscious you wouldn’t have been able to get me in the car anyway. What if I’d been alone? Then what? There would have been no one to tie the tourniquet, to put pressure.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been there.”
He cursed under his breath. “It could have happened any time.”
“But it didn’t. It happened then. Because you had to look out for me because I couldn’t look out for myself. And sooner or later something will happen again.”
“So what?”
“So what? Would you say that if the tables were turned?”
“They’re turned now aren’t they? I’m flat on my back. You’re sitting there.”
Waiting On the Rain Page 28
