"Keep everyone away from here," he told the thirtyish manager. "As soon as we pull people free, we'll need an area set aside for the paramedics to work." Then, because the man clearly seemed uncertain about taking orders from him, he added, "I'm a doctor. Find plenty of blankets and have someone check the driver of that car."
A sky blue four-door Plymouth Neon was now part of the storefront window, its sole occupant slumped over the steering-wheel.
With that information, the manager—John Peel, according to his ID tag—didn't hesitate. He immediately began organizing his employees to do as Alex had asked.
Several began tossing around pieces of the destroyed wall and scattered merchandise, but Alex stopped them. "Don't lift anything if it will cause another piece to fall," he cautioned his impromptu but able-bodied rescue crew. "We don't want these folks worse off than they are. If you aren't sure if you can move someone, then don't. The ambulances and fire department will be here shortly."
The three men nodded, and returned to their task with more cautious enthusiasm.
Alex glanced behind Claire and saw Jennie's familiar red coat and Joshua's little blue parka lying amidst the mess, a few feet away. Unfortunately, to get to them he had to move Claire, and to move her he had to move the fellow who'd pinned her to the ground.
"Can you see the kids?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "But we have to play pick-up sticks first. I can't reach them otherwise." He moved to check the elderly gentleman who had started to groan.
"Hurry," she mumbled.
As if he needed urging. He noticed the man had several deep cuts to his face from the flying glass and he began feeling for broken bones. Fortunately, he found none, or at least none that were obvious.
"How are you doing?" he asked the fellow.
The man touched his bleeding face. "Like I got hit by a freight train. What happened?''
"A car crashed into the store."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding," Alex said. "Can you move?"
He gingerly moved his legs. "Yeah. My foot's stuck on something, though."
Alex shifted the pile of crushed popcorn tins lying across his lower body until he saw the problem. The shelf that had held the merchandise had buckled and was resting at a drunken angle on the man's foot. He lifted the shelf without earning a hernia for his efforts, and the elderly fellow slid his leg free. A minute later, Alex had placed him in the care of a woman employee who immediately flung a blanket around his shoulders and led him to the now-deserted checkout area.
"Your turn," he told Claire as he helped her to her feet. The distant wail of sirens had never sounded so good. "The cavalry is coming." ^
"Thank goodness." Her next breath was a groan and she sagged in his arms.
"What's wrong?"
"Shoulder," she gasped. "But don't worry about it now. Get Joshua and Jennie."
Someone else had taken his place, so by the time he returned to the spot where he'd extricated Claire, Jennie was being freed from the broken aisle display of canned soda.
"Daddy," she exclaimed as she ran into his arms.
He ran his hands over her head, taking in the scratches on her face which had already stopped bleeding. "Are you OK?"
She nodded. "But my coat is ripped."
The fabric showed long gashes and he was glad that this was coat and sweater weather. Ripped clothing was easier and less messy to repair than ripped skin.
"Don't worry about it," he told her. "We'll either fix it or buy a new one. Wait with Claire while I look at Joshua.''
"OK."
The little boy lay motionless in a veritable sea of soda cans and plastic bottles. A deep gash across his forehead and a goose egg at the back of his head where he'd obviously hit the floor told the tale.
"Hi, Alex. Fancy seeing you here." Alex's neighbor, twenty-five-year-old Morey Keaton, knelt beside him and opened his kit of supplies. Not only was he a paramedic for the city, but his wife was Alex's patient and they were now proud parents of a two-month-old daughter. Alex had let Morey catch young Brianna as she'd been born and the light in Morey's eyes hadn't dimmed from the experience yet.
"Yeah. Are you coming on duty or going off?"
"I came on this morning," Morey told him as he ripped open a package of gauze and held it out to Alex. "Do you need anything else?"
"Hold that on his head for a minute." While the paramedic obeyed, Alex helped himself to latex gloves. "How about a penlight?"
Morey reached into his left shirt pocket and handed it over. "I hope this kid's parents aren't under that mess." He inclined his head in the direction of the car's front fender.
"We already got her out. She's waiting on aisle five."
Alex quickly checked Joshua's pupils and was pleased to see them responsive to light. He peeked under the pressure pad and examined the edges of Joshua's gash. "He's going to need stitches."
Joshua's eyelids fluttered until his eyes opened. At first he stared blankly at Alex, but then he began to cry.
"It's OK, Josh," Alex soothed the little boy, who was both hurt and scared. "You're going to be fine."
"Do you want a neck brace?" Keaton asked.
"Yeah. Let's play it safe."
"We'll transport him and his mom together," Morey said.
"Good idea. Can you take Jennie, too? Just so she's out of the way? I'm going to stay for a little longer. Someone might need a doctor."
Two Emergency Services people waved in their direction. "Keaton. Over here."
Morey motioned to a fireman who brought a stretcher. "Ship him out a.s.a.p."
Alex went over to Claire, who'd struggled to her feet. "What's wrong with Joshua?" she asked, clearly worried and frightened.
"He's had a bad bump to his head and was unconscious for a few minutes," Alex told her. "They're taking him in for a CT scan."
"Oh, God. I need to go with him." Her voice rose.
"Of course," Alex said, "but don't panic. He's awake, but he probably has a huge headache." He glanced in Morey's direction in time to see him wave her forward. "I'll meet the three of you at the hospital so don't worry."
Claire nodded and she grabbed Jennie's hand. Alex hoped she'd heard everything he'd said, but if not, he knew where to find her. Joshua would require close observation and nothing would draw her from his side.
Then, because it seemed like the thing to draw her out of her shock, he planted a firm, hard kiss on her lips. "I'll see you later."
He'd expected to surprise her by his impulsive action, but her only reaction was a slight widening of her eyes.
"Ma'am. We need to go," a paramedic said.
Without hesitation, she hurried after the stretcher-bearing men as Jennie waved goodbye to him over her shoulder.
Alex wondered if Claire would ever remember his brief kiss, but it didn't matter if she forgot. Now that he'd stolen a sample, nothing would stop him from going after a full meal.
* * *
Claire sat next to Joshua's hospital crib and stroked his small hand. After three hours, blood tests, brain scans and X-rays, the diagnosis had been plain and, according to the ER physician, straightforward.
Mild concussion.
Yet she couldn't quite believe it. He lay too quietly for her peace of mind—normally, he was quite active even while he slept—but she didn't want him fussy either, because she couldn't hold him. Although she knew the signs and the treatment, she analyzed his every move and tried to second-guess every complication she'd ever studied, read about or seen.
What if the ER doctor had missed something?
Just considering that thought caused a fresh wave of nausea.
The door opened soundlessly and she glanced up to see Alex. Strong, confident, rock-solid Alex. Instant relief swept over her.
He was Joshua's doctor and although she doubted if she'd truly believe Joshua was fine until he acted his usual rambunctious self, she wanted Alex's assurances.
He smiled at her as he walked in, his glance
sweeping briefly to Jennie who lay asleep on the empty bed.
"How is he?" he asked, his low voice barely above a whisper.
"Resting. Did you look at his test results?"
"Right before I came in. He'll be running around tomorrow as if nothing had happened."
She nibbled on her lip to keep her mouth from trembling. "Do you think so?"
"Sure. He has a hard head." He smiled. "How are you?"
Claire touched her shoulder. "Fine. Bruised, but unbroken. Dr Simmons wants me to wear a sling for a few days."
"And Jennie?"
"A few scratches, a few bumps. For the record, I don't think I could have managed without her," Claire said fervently. "She entertained Joshua while I was being looked after and even when I wasn't, she played with him." She grinned. "Joshua isn't going to be satisfied with me as his only playmate any more."
"Seems like sewing and babysitting are fair exchanges," he said.
"How are things at the Super-Mart? Was anyone hurt badly?"
"The kid driving had some burns from the air bag and a couple of shoppers had broken bones. We admitted a few—one was bleeding internally when the doorframe snapped and hit his abdomen, but the last I heard, he was doing OK in surgery. One had a skull fracture and we airlifted him to a neuro unit. Everyone else had minor cuts and bruises."
"I'm glad. Did the police figure out what happened?''
"Apparently the teenage girl behind the wheel was reaching for her cellphone when she hit that icy patch in front of the store."
Claire remembered that spot well. Alex hadn't let go of her arm until they'd been well past it.
"The car fishtailed, she panicked, overcompensated and slid right through the plate-glass window. She's just lucky she didn't drive over a pedestrian."
Claire shuddered at the thought. "Did they close the store?"
He grinned as he shook his head. "And miss an opportunity to earn a buck? Hardly. When I left with the last injured person, they were already covering the hole with plastic. My guess is that once news leaks out, everyone in town will want to see the damage first hand."
"Probably."
"We missed lunch and now it's almost time for dinner. Why don't we grab a bite from the cafeteria?"
"I couldn't."
"A cup of coffee."
She pointed to the three empty styrofoam cups on the bedside table. "If I drink any more caffeine, I'll be like the television Energizer Bunny."
"OK, but grab your coat. I'll run you home."
The idea was unthinkable. "I can't leave."
"Not even to freshen up?"
"The nurse said I could use the shower here."
"What about clothes?"
"Nora will bring what I need. She has my spare key. How long do you think he'll have to stay?" Claire tensed. Normally they kept a patient in overnight for observation, but if Alex suggested a longer time, she'd know something was wrong—something they weren't telling her.
"If he has a good night, then I don't see why he can't leave in the morning," he said.
Unable to speak, she simply nodded.
Apparently awakened by the sound of their voices, Jennie sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Hi, Daddy."
He strode to her side. "Hi, honeybunch. Are you ready to go home?"
"Yeah. Claire bought crackers from the machine and the nurse brought Joshua a sandwich, but he wouldn't eat it, so I did. I'm still hungry, though."
He chuckled. "Then we'd better fix that, hadn't we?"
Jennie slid off the bed. "Is it too late to get our tree tonight?"
"Probably not."
"Yippee!" At both adults' "Shh", she covered her mouth with both hands and looked sheepish. "Sorry," she whispered. "But we can pick it out right now, can't we?"
"On our way home," he promised. "We'll leave the decorating until tomorrow."
Jennie nodded, then spoke to Claire. "Will you and Joshua come over and help us? He'd really like our twinkly lights and glittery stuff."
"I'll bet he would," Claire answered, surprised by Jennie's invitation and yet loath to accept, "but I doubt if he'll be in a happy mood."
"Once he sees it, he'll get happy," Jennie insisted. "You don't have a big tree, so this will be something new and exciting for him."
Once again, a twinge of guilt struck her. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled, but—"
"It's all part of celebrating Jesus being born," Jennie continued. "We'll have hot chocolate and Mrs Rowe has gingerbread cookies, and when we're all done we can go to your house and work on my costume."
Clearly, Jennie had planned everything, and Claire hated to burst the child's bubble. She looked at Alex and silently begged for help.
"I'm sure Claire and Joshua will come if they can," he said firmly, "and if Josh feels better in the morning."
"OK, but I know he'd enjoy himself if he was there. I was a kid once, too, you know."
Claire smiled at Jennie's grown-up tone. "Whatever we choose to do, thank you for the invitation. Have fun picking out your tree."
Jennie nodded and her eyes shone with anticipation. "We will."
Alex leaned closer to Claire. "I'll see you later."
He didn't explain if "later" meant this evening or tomorrow, but Claire didn't press him. As much as she hated for him to leave, he couldn't stay. He had his own family responsibilities just as she had hers.
"If you need me, call," he ordered.
"I don't have your number."
He glanced around the room, and then yanked a paper towel from the dispenser and scribbled on it. "Here," he said. "If you lose this, the nurses at the desk know how to reach me."
Lose those two sets of numbers? Not a chance. They were her lifeline, her security blanket.
"Thanks," she said instead.
Alex stood over her and lightly clasped her good shoulder. "He's going to be fine. Don't worry. Now, get some rest. Once Joshua starts feeling better, you won't have time to recuperate yourself." With that, he left the room as soundlessly as he'd appeared, leaving Claire with her thoughts, the faintest trace of his woodsy scent and his touch indelibly marked on her shoulder.
Had he truly kissed her this morning, or had she simply imagined it?
No, she hadn't dreamt it. Neither could she chalk it up to wishful thinking. Either of those options wouldn't account for the pressure she could feel on her lips if she closed her eyes.
He'd kissed her and—heaven help her—she wanted him to do it again. This time preferably when she could enjoy it to the fullest.
She exchanged her straight-backed chair for the recliner and, after pulling it close to the crib so Joshua would see her if he woke, she relaxed and listened to the sound of her son's soft, steady breathing.
He probably wouldn't notice if she went home for a quick shower and a change of clothes, but she simply couldn't tear herself away. She wouldn't tempt fate by leaving if Joshua couldn't. She wasn't taking any chances.
She dozed fitfully until the door opened once again. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see that the man who'd invaded her dreams had returned.
"I thought you'd be gone longer than five minutes," she teased.
He quirked one lazy eyebrow. "Five minutes? It's been three hours."
"Three hours? It can't be." She glanced at the window.
Darkness had replaced the sunshine she'd seen earlier through the slats of the mini-blinds.
"It's seven-thirty," he told her. "If you don't know what time it is, then I don't have to ask if you've eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"Hmm." Before she could puzzle out what he meant by that, he went to the door and, after beckoning to someone, returned with Nancy Thompson, Joshua's pediatric nurse, in tow.
"Nancy will watch him while we dash down to the cafeteria," he said.
"I can't go."
"Yes, you can and you will."
"I'm not hungry."
"I am."
"Didn't you eat dinner with Jennie?"
"I d
ropped her off at my mother's. When I left, they were deciding on what type of pizza to order."
"You didn't need to come back," she began, grateful that he had.
"I always check on my favorite patient and his mother," he said. "Let's go so Nancy can do her job."
"But—"
Alex grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the easy chair. "Thirty minutes. No more, no less."
"I'll keep a close eye on him," Nancy promised.
Claire had already learned Nancy's credentials. She'd worked in pediatrics for ten years and in a PICU—or pediatric intensive care unit—for five years before that. In essence, she was placing Joshua in more capable hands than her own, but knowing that didn't make her leaving easier.
Alex ushered her to the door before she could dig in her heels. With one hand at her back, he guided her into the hallway.
"Nancy has plenty of other sick kids to watch," she told him as he stopped in front of the elevator to push the "down" button.
"Nancy is doing what she's getting paid to do which, for the next thirty minutes, is looking after Josh," Alex said. "Now, take a deep breath and think about what you'd like to eat."
Hospital planners had located the cafeteria in the basement and as soon as they stepped out of the elevator, the aromas coaxed a growl out of her stomach.
"Help yourself to whatever you want," he told her as he steered her to the hot-food line.
Nothing sounded good so, because he was glowering at her, she requested a bowl of chicken-noodle soup.
Alex had been ready to load her tray himself until she'd finally made her selection. He thought she needed something more substantial, but she obviously hadn't regained her appetite after their harrowing experience.
Yet, as they sat in a quiet corner, Claire's face appeared far too white for his liking.
Guessing at the cause, he reached across the table to cover her hand with his. "Josh is going to be fine. Stop worrying."
"Easier said than done," she said wryly.
"Trust me. He'll be fine."
The spoon she'd placed in her bowl remained there as she stared at her soup with a fixed expression. "I know. It's just that. "
"What?"
She blinked, as if mentally pulling herself out of her trance, and waved her right hand. "It's nothing. Forget it."
A Very Special Christmas Page 6
