Rossen smiled tiredly, thinking about the night before. “It all felt surreal, even before I was this much of a zombie.” He yawned. “Honestly, I haven’t had much chance to think about it. The mess with Isabel’s father and the FBI, and Slade’s bull ride, then picking up this girl have all kept us busy. It hasn’t even sunk in yet that we really did make it. We’ve wanted it for so long, but in the mix of life and death situations, it kind of takes a back seat.
“I don’t think Slade has even stopped to consider his buckle yet. He realized they’d grabbed Isabel just as he settled onto his bull. It’s a wonder he even made it through that ride. I guess Dad filled you in on it all?”
She nodded. “We talked until two. It must have been quite a night!”
With a long sigh, he leaned his head back against the top of the couch. “Isabel’s finally safe and they’ll get married now. It feels great to be the best, but I’m really looking forward to coming home and moving on.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The rodeo was just the beginning. I have no idea what this girl’s story is, but she’s in a mess. I’m so glad we were there when we were.” He went on to tell her the details of what had happened, and ended with simply, “She needs us, Mom. She was desperately sad in the truck. I don’t know what’s going on, but she needs some help. Her name is Kit, by the way. That’s all we know about her.”
He got up to move across to another couch where he stretched out full length on his stomach, spurs and all. “Do you mind if I have a short nap?” Naomi shook her head and smiled, and he mumbled, “I think I’m well into the killing brain cells realm. Wake me when she’s out.” He was sound asleep in seconds.
****
Smiling, Naomi thought, if he had put his boots and spurs on her leather couch at home she’d have crowned him, but today it was all okay. Rossen was her oldest child at twenty-six and she couldn’t have asked for a better son. Oh, he’d been a normal teenager and at times had given her fits, but he’d become everything a mother could ask for as an adult and they'd become the best of friends. As she sat and watched him sleep, she was grateful for the fine man he was.
She sat beside him and read her Book of Mormon, then went over her Christmas lists until Dr. Sundquist came in almost two hours later, pulling off his rubber gloves and surgery mask to toss them in the waste basket.
“Naomi!” His smile caused his eyes to almost crinkle shut as he took her hand in his. “I should have known you'd be here watching over everything.”
He plopped onto the couch beside her with a sigh. “What have these boys gotten you into this time? I don’t know anything about her, but it would appear she’s in quite a fix. You're exactly what the doctor is going to order! More than anything, she just needs good old fashioned care and you're the perfect remedy.”
The young doctor’s words made her smile as he continued, “Rossen and Slade look good. Came home from the big rodeo all in one piece, apparently. Heard they both took world champion! Makes us all proud. I told my wife I get all the credit, because they couldn’t have done it without me putting them back together from time to time.”
Chuckling to himself he added, “I wasn’t sure Slade could pull it off after that bad wreck last summer, but he did. Shouldn’t a doubted him. He’s a good man. All of your family are good people. You’re obviously a wonderful parent!”
“Thank you.” She enjoyed his compliment as he wound down, but she had to add, “Although it’s not my parenting. They're just good kids and a lot of that is Rob’s doing. I think he teases them until they behave. I swear sometimes it‘s like raising an extra child. And Slade I can‘t take any credit for. He‘s always been good and has helped raise the whole bunch. If you ever get a chance to have an extra kid like him, better jump on it.”
The doctor sobered somewhat. “Well it looks like you may have another extra kid for a little while. They couldn’t tell me much about her, but I can tell you she’s been neglected and abused. And I see no signs of drug use, not that I can always tell, but there’s nothing overt.
“The surgery went well. She’s got three pins under her cast, but her malnutrition is more of a problem than anything. She has a rather serious concussion and I put twenty three stitches in her head and Noah Grady came and set her nose. She is also about three or four months pregnant. I don’t know how old she is, but she’s young and obviously hasn’t had much care.
"She needs food, love, probably counseling--depending on what her background is, and prenatal care. She’ll have the cast on her arm for eight to ten weeks and the nose splint on for eight days or so at least. I’ll keep her here for another day or two, depending on how she’s feeling. Her concussion and the pain medicine will keep her pretty out of it, and head injuries often cause extreme nausea, so this might be quite a project.” He patted her hand as he stood up. “But, like I said, you're the perfect motherly person for it. And I’ll do what I can to help.
“By the way, under the circumstances, I’ll donate my services and see what I can do about the hospital costs. I’m assuming from her condition that there is no money for medical bills.”
Naomi nodded. “Thank you. I don’t know anything about her either, but we’ll do the best we can to help her.”
Dr. Sundquist went to leave. “She’ll be in recovery for a while, then they’ll come and get you when they put her in a room.
“Care and food and she’ll be fine.” He indicated Rossen. “Tell him he did a good job getting her here. He’s a good man.” With that, he went back through a set of double doors, leaving her to contemplate the next while. She mentally began to reorganize her life to fit in an extra person who may need a lot of care. The fact that this was the third time in four months that she'd sat beside the hospital bed of someone who was not her biological child never even registered. To her, they were all God’s children, and as long as her own family was okay, she was happy to be able to help.
Forty-five minutes later, when a nurse came to tell her they had moved Kit to a room, Rossen still hadn’t moved a muscle, so Naomi left him, and followed the nurse into a dimly lit hospital room. Alone, and lying on a steel hospital bed, was a pale girl with almost black hair, two black eyes, and a nose splint. Her hair was a mess of tangles and looked like it had been chopped with a butcher knife, and the hand that lay on top of the light blanket was so thin it was hardly more than skeletal, the vein that held the I.V., large against the small bones.
The low light and neutral walls, combined with white linens and beige electronics, made the room positively dismal and her heart went out to the patient before her. The first thing Naomi did was call the hospital gift shop and order two bouquets of flowers and a bunch of balloons sent up, hoping that the color and smell would lighten things up a bit before she came to. Then, with infinite patience she settled into a chair beside the metal bed to watch over the girl, going back to her book and planning. Occasionally she walked down the hall to check on Rossen, but it was six hours before either one of them moved.
Chapter 2
The journey from under the anesthetic was a long one and Kit was in thick fog that was difficult to move through as she slowly came awake. She was so tired and her eyes were incredibly heavy. As she struggled to open them, she knew she was going to be sick, but she couldn’t wake up enough to move. She was infinitely grateful when gentle hands turned her on her side and pulled her hair back. A quiet voice registered through the mist in her brain, and then she was mercifully oblivious once more.
Later, when the fog began to lift again, it was the same quiet voice and there was a gentle touch on her hand. When her heavy eyes finally opened, it was to see a middle-aged woman with a kind face hovering above her. She fought to voice a question, but her fuzzy brain couldn’t make her mouth work. The kind woman seemed to read her mind as she said, “I’m Naomi. I’m just here because one of God’s precious daughters needs a little extra care.” Kit felt the touch on her hands again as she drifted back to sleep, wondering who the daughter of God was.
/> Finally, Kit felt herself wake up with less of the mist drifting through her head. She looked up to find an extraordinarily good looking stranger with tired, deep blue eyes sitting beside her bed. She was instinctively afraid and tried to curl up and turn away, pulling the blanket tightly to her. She was too out of it to move much and felt the need to be sick before she could react. Her body began to wretch and she was too sick to shrink from him, as the tall, blonde stranger stood up to hold a bag in front of her and pull her hair back away from her face. He spoke to her softly, gently rubbing her shoulder and somehow she knew, even through the fog, that she’d be okay. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes again.
Sometime later, she was having strange dreams of a scary, dark street and a gang, and her foster father. Her fear was overpowering, but then there was a kind man and an angel with silvery, gold hair, then a dark haired woman talking about God. There was a baby and a muddle of pain, and fear and flashing lights. The images were disjointed and warped, and through it all was a horrible, queasy nausea. The strange images smoothed away to be replaced by a sweet unfamiliar sense of security. Even as she forced herself to wake because she knew she was going to be sick again, she still had this peaceful feeling that all was well.
She fought to open her eyes and realized there was someone there beside her supporting her back and smoothing her hair as she was sick into the blue bag he held for her. He gently wiped her face and helped her settle back against the pillows, then went to the restroom to dampen a cloth. Her mind was still zoned, and she couldn’t quite remember who he was, or why he was sitting here beside her hospital bed being so kind to her. She couldn’t even remember how she came to be here.
Her eyes sought his in a silent quest to understand. He met her gaze openly and honestly as he gently placed the cloth on her brow and said, “I’m not sure why it works, but it seems to. Try putting your hand here on this ice pack too. The nurse said it sometimes helps the nausea.”
There was none of the horrible, suggestive leering she had come to expect from her foster father’s eyes, or the cruelty she had seen in her foster mother’s, or even the impatience she was used to from the case workers. There was only kindness and a sense of infinite patience.
She tentatively put her hand out to touch the indicated ice pack, still wondering what he wanted from her. She’d learned a long time ago that nobody did anything for her without a reason. She pulled the sheet up around her neck in a gesture of self protection, before returning her hand to the ice pack.
He reached out toward the I.V. line attached to the back of her hand and she flinched sharply. His eyes narrowed, questioning, but his voice was kind when he said, “I’m not going to hurt you. I was just unkinking the tubing. Dr. Sundquist wants to get as much fluids into you as possible.” He slowly reached for the line and smoothed the bend, watching her eyes as he did.
He really didn’t frighten her. The flinch had been instinctive. Years of being struck had made it reflexive. Realizing she wasn’t afraid of him filled her half drugged head with wonder. She believed him. He wasn’t going to hurt her and she closed her eyes again, content to rest while he kept watch.
When she awoke horribly ill once more, he was still there, gently helping her and though she still wondered why, she knew she was safe and accepted his help gratefully.
An older, dark haired woman came in, followed by the nurse. The woman put her arm around him, took Kit’s hand gently in hers, and asked, “Look who’s awake! Still feeling lousy?” Her blue eyes were bright and warm.
Kit nodded wordlessly, her eyes going from one to the other. The nurse was doing something that squeezed her arm, and put an instrument in her ear again, then pulled out a keyboard to type something. She smiled at Kit. “Ready for some Jell-O or apple juice?”
Just the thought made Kit’s stomach heave and the man barely made it to her with the blue bag from where it hung on the wall. Regretfully, he said, “I wondered if that was going to happen.” He gently wiped her face once again. “I have no idea how you can throw up. You’ve eaten nothing for at least two days.”
As the nurse went out the door, she said over her shoulder, “It’s the I.V. fluids.”
“Mom,” He turned to the dark haired woman, “Can’t they give her anything for the nausea? Isabel was this same way with her concussion.”
His mother came closer to Kit’s bed. “Kit, I know it sounds kind of backward, but food may actually really help. Is there anything that sounds good at all?” She took Kit’s hand again. “I’m Naomi, by the way. I’m Rossen’s mom. I’ve been here, but you’ve been pretty out of it.”
Kit sighed. “Anything sounds wonderful. I’m starving. I just can’t keep it down.” She looked down at her hands. It wasn’t a concussion that was causing this. She’d been this way for three and a half months, but she couldn’t tell them that.
Naomi turned to the man. “Rossen, go ask at the nurse’s station for some soda crackers and warm 7-Up, then go down to the cafeteria for a large cheeseburger and bring it back hot. Make it a double”
“It’ll never work.” He was shaking his head. She just nudged him toward the door.
“We’ll at least try. Even if it only stays down for a moment, she’ll get something from it.”
As he went out the door, Naomi moved close again. “Kit, I don’t mean to intrude, but Dr. Sundquist told me yesterday that you're expecting a baby. I’ve had six babies and I’m inclined to think this is probably more morning sickness than brain concussion. Is that a possibility?”
Kit raised her eyes to Naomi, completely ashamed to admit the truth to her, but then again almost comforted to be able to finally speak about her troubles to this woman who had been kind, even after finding out about the baby. She nodded and said, “I haven’t kept much down in three and a half months.”
Naomi put a hand on her bony shoulder and smiled. “You haven’t had Naomi there to help you. With one of mine, I could only eat a tiny bit to keep it down, but with the other five I had to eat like a Sumo wrestler twenty-four seven to feel half-way decent. I’m just assuming you haven’t had a lot because you’re so thin.” Kit shook her head no and Naomi went on, “Can we try to give you a lot. If it doesn’t work we’ll try the warm 7-Up and crackers. Somehow, you and this baby need a lot more nutrition to be healthy.”
Kit started to cry. “I know. I know I’m not doing a very good job at having this baby, but I’m doing the best I can. I didn’t want to get pregnant, but I did, and when my foster father found out, he was going to force me to have an abortion.” She put her hand over her belly. “I didn’t plan for this baby, but I don’t want him to kill it. That’s why I ran. He was going to make me.” Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
Naomi’s voice was gentle as she asked, “Kit. How old are you?”
Kit tried to control her sobs. “Seventeen.”
“Who is the father?”
She wouldn’t look up and Naomi came to her and leaned over, pulling her to her in a hug as she cried. Finally, in the smallest of voices, Kit said, “My foster father.”
They were both in tears and didn’t see Rossen when he came back in with the food. He looked from one to the other, then silently slipped back out the door unnoticed.
A few minutes later, whistling loudly, he came through the doorway again. This time, although it was still evident that they'd been emotional, the tears were gone and Naomi looked up as she was helping Kit brush her hair and said, “Ah, good. There you are. This girl needs some food. I know a cheeseburger isn’t usually the first thing to try, but maybe it’ll go down easy.” Naomi smiled at her and squeezed Kit’s hand.
“It smells wonderful.” Kit took the burger and began to eat it. Rossen watched skeptically as he moistened a cloth. After just a couple bites she was sick again, but Naomi encouraged her to keep eating and miraculously she made it through the rest of the burger and kept it down beautifully.
Rossen was amazed and said, “Mom, you are a miracle.
Do you know how sick this girl has been? That is so backward. I would have thought a tiny bit of bland food would be better. How did you know?”
Naomi just winked at Kit. “Moms know everything, honey. You know that by now, don’t you?” She wrapped her arm around her son’s waist.
“I should." He grinned. "You caught me every single time I did something wrong!”
Kit was still tired. Her head ached and her elbow throbbed. When she hadn’t been able to keep pain pills down, they’d brought her a morphine pump. It kept the pain under control, but made her sleepy, and finally well fed, she went back to sleep almost instantly.
When she next woke, Naomi was gone, but Rossen was still there asleep in the chair beside her bed. It was strange. Somehow as he had been helping her, she had come to trust him. There was something so innately safe about him that she’d been able to push aside the fear she’d come to have for literally every male she encountered.
She studied him in the dim quiet. He was tall with bleached blonde hair and long legs stretched out in front of his chair, crossed at the ankles. Faded jeans and cowboy boots exactly fit his casual strength. He was incredibly handsome, even with his eyes closed and she already knew that with his eyes open he was devastatingly so. His eyes were deep blue and although he always seemed to be smiling, they had a quiet depth that went on forever. Even in his sleep he had a hint of a smile in the tiny lines around them. She wondered how old he was. He obviously wasn’t a teenager anymore.
She still wasn’t exactly sure how she came to be here at the hospital with him and his sweet mom. She’d never been around anyone like them. Their love and affection was so obvious and comfortable it was remarkable. And the way they treated her was unbelievable. They treated her like she actually deserved to be cared for and watched over, even though they didn’t know her. They had never even met her before when? She still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of that.
Above Rubies (Rockland Ranch) Page 2
