by Diane Moody
“Ah. That’s why he looks so familiar. I’m a Cubs fan myself, but Michael Dean was quite a celebrity a few years back. He could crack a bat like the best of them. I lost count of all those years he was MVP for the National League. Great ball player.”
“Incredible ball player,” she added, her thoughts traveling the gracious distance of time. “I used to love watching him play back when we were together. Never missed a game.”
A few moments passed. “Annie?”
She snapped out of her thoughts. “Yes?”
“I’m still concerned about your safety. Whoever shot your friend here could still be out there, you know.”
“I know.”
“Do you know anything else about him? Does he have a family? Where’s he been living? That sort of thing.”
“No, only bits and pieces. I heard he was married to the daughter of someone famous. Some actor or—I just can’t remember. And to be honest, I’ve tried very hard not to keep track of him.”
“I see.” Doc finished the procedure. “All right, that’s about all you can spare right now. You okay?” He looked up at her while pressing a cotton ball to the tiny hole in her arm.
“Oh, I’m fine. Not even dizzy any more.”
“Well, keep your seat there for a few minutes. You’ll be light-headed when you stand up again.”
He moved back to the kitchen sink to run more hot water. “Once we get Mr. Dean all fixed up, I think we need to move his car into the garage. Might be best to keep it out of sight.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she offered.
“You’ll do no such thing. I can do it myself. You just keep an eye on your baseball player for me. He’s going to be with us for a while,” he continued. “If the weather wasn’t so bad, I’d try to pack him up and drive him over to the hospital in Pueblo, but it’s too far and we can’t take that chance. We could lose him if we ran into even the slightest problem along the road. So we’ll just have to do the best we can.”
He dried his hands then began setting out the instruments he would need from his bag. “Let’s get started.”
Three hours later, Doc helped Annie to her room, insisting she get some rest. They had moved Michael to the guest room where he seemed to be resting comfortably. Doc was able to remove the bullet that had lodged in Michael’s shoulder fairly easy. But the abdominal wound was another story. He found no bullet there and surmised that it had evidently grazed Michael’s side, just passing through, but doing a substantial amount of damage in the process. Fortunately no internal organs were damaged, but the infection had spread. He estimated the wounds to be at least a day old.
“Are you sure he’s okay?” Annie asked, climbing into bed.
“His pulse has steadied and his blood pressure has stabilized. Right now we need to let the antibiotics do their work and help his body begin to heal.” He tucked her in, turning off the bedside lamp.
“If Michael wakes up—”
“If Michael wakes up, he’ll see the face of an old doctor who’s sitting by his side watching his every move. Now, you get some rest.”
“Doc?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think there’s someone out there?”
Annie heard him exhale before answering. “I don’t know. I’m going to pull Michael’s car into the garage and take a look around. Then I’ll be in his room if you need me. Once the sun comes up, I’ll have to make a quick run down to my clinic. I don’t have enough medication to keep him adequately sedated for the duration of his recovery. I’ll pick up some supplies and come right back.”
He walked over to the window. “Storm’s getting worse.”
“Do you think you should go now? What if you can’t get out in the morning?”
“I need to stay with Michael for the next couple of hours or so. You go on and get some sleep.”
Annie yawned. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No need. That’s what I’m here for.” With that, he closed the door quietly behind him leaving her alone. For the first time since this nightmare began, she heard the howling of the wind outside. Though the cabin was warm and secure, she felt a chill pass from her head to her toes.
Who would want to you kill you, Michael?
As tiny pellets of ice and snow tapped against the window pane, she fell into a restless slumber.
CHAPTER 19
Eagle’s Nest
“Annie?”
“Huh?”
“Are you awake?” A soft knock on the door followed Doc’s question.
“Sure, come on in,” she answered, still half asleep. The room was still dark. “What time is it?”
He walked over to the bedside chair and sat down. “It’s coming up on six o’clock. Sun won’t come up for another hour. Still snowing mighty hard out there.”
All at once she sat up, her mind suddenly clear. “Is Michael okay?”
“Yes, he’s fine. He’s resting. Thrashed around a bit, mumbled a lot, then dozed back off. Best thing he can do is sleep right now.”
Annie leaned back against her pillows. “Do you think he’s going to be okay? Can he make it if we don’t get him to a hospital?”
Doc stretched his arms over his head. “Oh, I think he’ll pull through, if that’s what you mean. He’d recover a lot faster in a hospital, but I’ll do my best to see he gets the care he needs. I need to make that trip down to my office. Think I better bring a back-up generator up here in case the power goes out. I know for a fact Christine never got one. Never saw the need since she’s gone so much during the winter months.
“I’ll stock up on pain medication and supplies for our patient in there. Not a lot we can do for him but we can at least keep him comfortable. I put what medication I have left on the top of the dresser in his room. There’s plenty for the time being. If for any reason I don’t get back before he wakes, you can certainly administer it to him. I wrote out some instructions in case that happens. Will you be all right?”
“I’m fine. I’ll go sit with him while you’re gone.”
Doc made his way for the door. “I shouldn’t be gone long.” He pointed toward the window. “The wind just started kicking up again and it’s snowing pretty hard, so I’ll try to get back as quickly as I can. You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Go. I’m fine.”
He stopped at the door, his back turned to her. “Listen, Annie,” he paused looking over his shoulder. “I’m going to pay a visit to Sheriff Patterson while I’m in town.”
“No! Dr. Wilkins, please don’t do that!” Annie sat up, clutching the comforter around her.
He turned back around to face her, his hand held up to stop her protests. “Now just listen to me. You or I neither one know what Mr. Dean has gotten himself into. We don’t know if those are criminals who shot him or if he’s running from the law.”
“But Doc—”
“It’s my responsibility as a physician to report this kind of injury. I need to at least let Patterson know I’ve got a patient with gunshot wounds up here.”
“Please don’t say anything! At least not until Michael wakes up and can tell us what happened. He’s not going anywhere. If we find out he’s done something wrong, we’ll do the right thing. I promise you. But please don’t tell anyone else he’s here. I’m begging you.”
He stared at her long and hard. Finally, he rubbed his hand over his face. “I suppose it won’t hurt to wait awhile before going to the sheriff. If those gunmen had followed him, they would have barged in here by now. I don’t know how Michael made it up these roads, let alone anyone else. Besides, if they’re some kind of law enforcement officers, they’ll go to Sheriff Patterson themselves.”
Annie relaxed, sighing again. “Thank you.”
“Just promise me you’ll keep the door locked and won’t open it for anyone but me. Understood? I’m still concerned that whatever trouble Mr. Dean has gotten himself into may eventually follow him up this mountain.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll
be careful.”
“You better be. Good nurses are hard to find around these parts, especially when they’re as pretty as you.” With a wink of his eye, he was gone.
“NO! Don’t shoot! Oh God, don’t let him shoot me!”
Annie jumped from her chair. “Michael! It’s okay! No one’s trying to shoot you.” She took hold of his left hand and held it firmly in her own. His breathing was rapid, his mind surely reliving a scene Annie didn’t want to think about.
“Shhhh, you’re safe here now. No one’s going to hurt you. Just take it easy.” His eyes were open but focused somewhere far away. He slowly relaxed, his breathing gradually easing back to normal.
His face glistened with perspiration. She found the ceramic bowl of water Doc had set on the bedside table and reached for the wash rag floating in it. Wringing out the cold water, she began carefully patting the damp cloth against his face.
“Oh, Michael, what have you done?” she whispered. She brushed aside his hair surprised to find it peppered with strands of gray. How odd. In my mind, you never aged at all.
She continued wiping his face with the cool cloth, finding herself drawn to study his ruggedly handsome face. The years have been kind to you, Michael Dean. The lines and creases of age had only helped to define his good looks. Despite the trace of fear still locked in his brow, she noticed a collection of tiny laugh lines around his eyes. Sculpted from that perpetual smile of yours, no doubt. She caught herself smiling, remembering his wonderful sense of humor.
A wistful chasm of time pulled her back to a day long ago.
Michael had just led his college team to win the conference title by hitting a grand slam home run at the bottom of the ninth. Through the wild celebration on the field that followed, he kept searching the stands to find her—waving, bouncing into the air, dancing in wild circles, laughing like a crazy man. She made her way down to the field along with their horde of friends. When Michael finally spotted her, he flew across the infield, catching her as she jumped into his arms.
“Annie! We did it! We won! We’re going to Omaha! We’re going to the College World Series!” He spun her around and around until she begged him to put her down.
“You won it! Your grand slam won the game! You were AMAZING! Michael, you won it!”
“Annie, we’ve got to celebrate! Oh, baby, I love you!” He took hold of her face with both of his hands and kissed her hard. He pulled back, grabbing her hand as he headed for the celebration out on the pitcher’s mound, whooping and hollering at the top of his lungs.
Before she knew what was happening, Michael leaned over, lifting her up onto his shoulders then parading all through the crowd of his teammates, coaches and friends. A reporter pulled Michael aside for an on-air interview. Michael conducted himself with complete attentiveness, as if doing so with a girl on his shoulders was the most natural thing in the world. Annie couldn’t stop laughing. She could only imagine what they must look like—a double-decker scoop of ice cream on a cone in constant motion.
After the usual questions, the reporter asked, “Michael, what are your plans for the future? Can we look for you in the majors next year?”
“You better believe it. I hope to go first or second round in the draft, I’m gonna marry this beautiful woman, and play major league ball!”
It was a moment in time forever captured in her heart, like some favorite movie that would be played over and over again.
An eternity ago.
Suddenly, the room darkened, awaking Annie out of her thoughts. A weak glow from the snow-covered landscape outside began to filter through the curtains offering the only source of light. Annie’s heart pounded in her ears. Had the storm knocked out the power? Or was someone out there? An eerie silence filled the cabin.
“Doc, please hurry,” she whispered.
She tiptoed across the bedroom floor with the aid of her crutches putting as little weight on her swollen ankle as possible, then peeked out into the great room. Steeling her courage, she made her way into the kitchen and looked out across the room. Everything still in place, she hobbled toward the front door to check the locks. Both were secure. Thank God. Then she realized what was missing. No hum of the refrigerator. No digital clock glowing the time on the microwave. The power’s gone.
Unaware she had been holding her breath, Annie felt her eyes sting. Limping back to the front window, she peered outside, careful not to rustle the curtains.
The storm unleashed its fury. Annie had never seen anything like it. It was dark as night with thousands of angry white flakes swirling in a mad frenzy. Then, as if in sudden orchestration, a wall of powder shifted to pound against the cabin. She wrapped her arms around herself and prayed. Oh God, why now? Why couldn’t this blizzard hold off until Dr. Wilkins got back?
Startled by the unexpected ringing of the phone, Annie jumped, the air exploding out of her lungs. She reached over to pick up the receiver, not at all surprised when her voice wouldn’t budge.
“Annie? Are you there?”
“Yes,” she croaked. “Yes, I’m here. The phone just startled me, that’s all. Dr. Wilkins, where are you? The power’s gone out!”
“I know. That’s why I’m calling. Apparently this whole side of the mountain is down. I’ve got a back-up generator here, but I’m sorry to say I didn’t get one up to you in time. How’s Michael doing?”
“He’s still sleeping, but I think his fever is still awfully high. How long until you can be back?” Annie felt her heart sink at the pause on the line.
“Well, now don’t worry—”
“Doc, Michael needs you,” she urged, fearing what he was about to say.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be awhile. The road is out. Some fool trucker tried to beat out the storm. Came flying through town and missed the curve in the road. It was a logging truck—he was hauling a full load, too. You’ve never seen such a mess. It knocked out our transformer that sits a good twenty yards from the road. That’s why we’ve all lost power. The road is completely shut down. We’ll have to wait until the power company can send some trucks over from Canon City, and in this weather, who knows when that will be. I’m sorry, Annie. There’s just no way for me to drive up there.”
“But surely there’s some other—”
“No, I’m afraid not. You’ve got to remember, you’re sitting up on top of a mountain. There’s nothing but a steep wilderness all around you. I’ve hunted up in that area my whole life, and I can assure you, it’s not a place to be in this kind of weather. This is quite a storm, even for this neck of the woods. Wind this strong, snow this heavy—it can be a deadly combination. And it won’t do you or Michael any good if I’m off in a ditch or down a ravine.”
“But what are we going to do?” Annie pleaded. “I don’t know how to take care of someone in Michael’s condition! He needs you.”
“Now, don’t sell yourself short. What Michael needs most right now is lots of rest. All you have to do is try to keep him comfortable. And if you run into any trouble, all you have to do is call me. I don’t expect these phone lines to go down so there’s no reason we can’t stay in touch. Besides, I don’t have to remind you that you aren’t alone. The Lord is fully aware of your situation—and Michael’s too for that matter. He’ll keep you safe.
“Annie, are you still there?”
“Yes. I just wish the Lord would give me a break. This is the last thing I need.” She felt a rush of impatience. “I came here to get away. I needed time to think. And now look at this—this whole ridiculous situation. After all these years, at the worst possible time in my life, God dumps Michael on my doorstep. And if that wasn’t enough, He has to go and dump a blizzard on us, too! Now I’m the one stuck having to help Michael. Michael Dean! Of all the people on the face of the earth, why did it have to be him?”
She suddenly realized she was shouting at the phone. Shouting at Doc Wilkins, no less. She buried her face, frustrated and embarrassed. She tried to stifle her sobs as she heard the quiet voi
ce coming through the telephone line.
“Annie? It’s okay, dear. I think maybe there’s a whole lot more here than just a bizarre series of coincidences.”
She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “What do you mean?”
“Well now, I don’t have a clue about what it is you ran away from—”
“I didn’t run away!” Annie snapped, immediately sorry. She knew she should apologize. He was absolutely right.
Doc continued. “I knew the minute I met you over at Williamson’s that something was burdening you. Doesn’t take a psychologist to know when someone is in that much pain. And you’ve alluded to it just about every time we’ve crossed each other’s path. I haven’t wanted to pry. Thought you needed your privacy.
“But under the circumstances, with what’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, I would have to assume the Lord may be trying to tell you something. Sometimes He allows the strangest events to befall us just so He can get our attention—”
“Yeah, well He already had my attention,” she interrupted. “I laid all my cards on the table. I poured it all out and left it as His feet. And I was waiting on Him for some—some kind of guidance. Some answers. Anything! But He just disappeared on me! I begged for answers and He totally turned his back on me.”
“But that’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” Doc answered patiently. “You may think He deserted you when in fact all these circumstances may hold the very answers you’ve been searching for all along.”
Silence drifted across the line. She knew he was waiting for a response.
“Annie, what I want you to do is go sit down by Michael’s bedside and just relax. Make sure he’s okay and take some time to get a hold of yourself, all right? Then try to get your thoughts organized. You’ll need to make some preparations because it could get mighty cold up there if this power is down for as long as I think it will be. Put some more logs on the fire. I left a good supply of them on the hearth for you, and there’s a whole rack of them out in the garage as well. You’ll also find a Coleman stove out there. Better bring that in so you can heat up some soup or stew or something. Make some tea. Michael is going to need some good food once he wakes up. Then I want you to find some lanterns, some candles, dig out some more blankets and quilts—that sort of thing. That’s a lot to do with that ankle of yours but you’ve got to do it anyway.
