Promises of Mercy(Montana Promises-Book 1)

by Vella Day

  “The best ones always are.” Though she believed Stone, too, was made of granite. His heart, however, was as pure as gold.

  For the next few minutes, he leaned back and drove as if he was deep in thought. That gave her a chance to study his profile. He had a straight nose and a strong chin. What really held her appeal was his smile and his pretty green eyes that had long lashes she’d kill to have.

  Not long after leaving town, he turned into the Harmes River National Park instead of continuing on to the National Forest. After a short trip on a gravel drive, he pulled into a parking space alongside several picnic tables.

  Stone looked over at her. “It’s not fancy, but I figure we’d have some peace and quiet here.”

  “It’s perfect.” She was a bit relieved that they weren’t going to hike.

  He cut the engine and walked around to her side. When he opened her door, he held out his hand, and she placed her palm in his. The warmth of his skin soaked into her. It had been a long time since she’d been touched by a man.

  The sun was bright, and the air the right temperature. The sound of the rushing river created a wonderful serenity. He extracted two coolers from the back, and when she held out her hand to help him, he shook his head.

  “Today, I want you to think of nothing but the beauty that surrounds you.”

  She smiled. That would include him. When he found a clean table, she opened her case and handed him his beer.

  His eyes sparkled. “You are too sweet.”

  Sweet wasn’t the best description, but it would do. Why are you thinking of this as a date? You want him to help Chris.

  That isn’t all.

  As soon as he began to take out the contents in his container, her cell rang.

  “Let it go to voicemail,” he said. “You need to eat.”

  “It could be the doctor telling me something about Chris.”

  He nodded and she answered. “Hello?” She stepped away from the table and turned her back to Stone.

  “Amber Delacroix?” The voice sounded ominous, and her heart jumped to the throat.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Dr. Almaguire. I’m very sorry to inform you that your brother has taken a turn for the worse.”

  Chapter Four

  “Amber, what’s wrong?” Stone slipped the phone from her fingers, set her cell on the table, and then clasped her shoulders in a gentle embrace.

  Oh, my God. She’d said that standard phrase to too many families. She knew what it really meant, and her heart refused to stop banging against her chest.

  “He’s dead.” Tears leaked out of her eyes, but there were no sobs—the shock prevented it.

  “Who’s dead?”

  She slowly looked up at Stone. Compassion and tenderness filled his face. “Chris is dead.”

  He shook his head. “No one would have called with that message. Tell me what was said.”

  “It was Dr. Almaguire. He told me Chris had taken a turn for the worse.”

  He led her back to the bench and made her sit down. That was good because her legs were too wobbly to keep her standing for much longer.

  Stone squatted in front of her and picked up her hands. His warmth helped. “Amber. Listen to me. Taking a turn for the worse doesn’t necessarily mean he’s dead. There could have been a blood clot lodged somewhere.”

  “Maybe.” She wanted to believe it could be true, but in her heart she knew the truth.

  Stone stood and shoved the food back into the containers. “We need to get to the hospital.”

  The pain in his voice shook her out of her fogged world. “Yes.” She was sorry he’d gone to the trouble of a picnic, but Chris had to come first.

  “While I drive to the hospital, I want you to eat something.” He kept out a sandwich container and set it aside.

  As if time had slowed, he’d gathered what he’d brought and led her to his truck. After he handed over her lunch and made sure she’d snapped her seatbelt, he stowed their picnic gear. Seconds later, they were on the road to Rock Hard.

  “Eat,” Stone coaxed.

  She couldn’t for fear she’d throw it up. A horrible thought struck. “Do you think Chris begged someone to take his life?” Doctor assisted suicide was legal in Montana.

  He looked over at her, his expression hard. “Let’s not be premature. We need to find out the details first.”

  She choked back her grief.

  Stone’s hand reached out and grabbed hers. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”

  The word “we” rang in her head. Having someone by her side was more than she expected, but right now she’d willingly accept any solace.

  Before she knew it, they’d arrived at the hospital. Had Stone not wrapped an arm around her waist and walked her up the steps to the hospital entrance, she wasn’t sure if she would have made it.

  As if by magic, Stone and she were suddenly standing in front of Dr. Almaguire. She couldn’t recall the elevator ride up to Chris’s floor or walking to his office.

  Almaguire placed a hand on her shoulder. “Amber, I’m very sorry, but Chris stopped breathing a while ago. We did resuscitate him, but I fear it was too late.”

  Her chest seemed to crush her and when she opened her eyes, she was in a chair in a private office with Stone sitting across from her, her hands firmly held in his.

  “Welcome back.”

  “What happened?” She prayed all of this had been a dream.

  “You passed out.”

  Dr. Almaguire handed her a cup of water. “Drink this.”

  Stone let go and moved his chair next to hers. She wasn’t sure if the doctor had laced it with a sedative, but she trusted him and sipped the drink until it was gone. “Why did Chris stop breathing? He was so healthy, other than his broken body.” Bile rose to her throat and her gut twisted.

  “I’m not really sure of the details yet. I do know that Nancy—she was Chris’s nurse—had checked on him at eleven, and he was fine then.”

  “That’s when Jamie and I were there.”

  Almaguire’s lips pressed together. “When Nancy returned at one fifteen, he wasn’t breathing. She had no idea how long his heart hadn’t been beating, so she immediately called a code and intubated him. He’s in ICU now.”

  She stilled, her mind spinning fast. “I don’t remember, but wasn’t he hooked up to a heart monitor?”

  “Not after we took him off the ventilator.”

  Of course. She wasn’t thinking clearly. “I stopped in a little after one and he was asleep.”

  Stone leaned close. “Are you sure he was asleep?”

  Amber bit her bottom lip. “I think so. I didn’t go into the room, so I can’t swear if his chest was rising and falling.” She tried to do the math. “I probably got there five minutes after one, and if Nancy arrived ten minutes later, Chris couldn’t have been dead for long. He might not have much brain damage.” She didn’t really believe that. Even a few minutes would harm the brain stem.

  “Let’s not get our hopes up, shall we?” the doctor said. “While we’re not ready to pronounce him dead yet, I have to tell you he was unresponsive when we applied a noxious stimulus, and he had no pupil or corneal reflexes.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll remove the endotracheal tube later, and if he doesn’t cough when we’re suctioning, we’ll check his PCO2 levels, but at that point, I’m guessing it won’t be long before we’ll have to pronounce him dead.” His gaze lowered, as did his voice. “I’m so sorry, Amber.”

  She forced the medical part of her training to take over. “Why did he die?” Before the doctor even opened his mouth to respond, she wept and had to clamp a hand over her mouth to contain her anguished cries. Damn. Stone wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.

  “I promise you we’ll do everything we can to find out what happened,” Dr. Almaguire said.

  She wasn’t sure it really mattered any more. If Chris was dead, nothing could reverse that fact now.
Chris. Chris. One of his best qualities was his generosity. “My brother is an organ donor.”

  “We can talk about that later when we learn if his organs are viable. If not, he can be a tissue donor. I’d like to speak with your parents about that.”

  Her chest caved. Her mother would act strong, but deep inside, her mom did care—or at least Amber wanted to believe she did. “I’ll give you her number, but she’s hard to get ahold of.” She told him what her mom did for a living. “My father hasn’t been in the picture for years.”

  Once more, his gaze lowered. “I’ll call her myself.”

  That would relieve a big burden off her shoulders. “May I see him?” She didn’t know how those words erupted, but she needed closure.

  “I’ll take you to him,” the doctor said.

  Stone stood and helped her up. “I’m coming, too.”

  He was so kind. “You don’t have to.”

  “Amber.” From the stern look he shot her, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  They followed the doctor out of his office. Stone leaned closer. “When I was in the service, my best friend, Heath Drandle and I were inseparable. We told things to each other we’d never dared tell anyone else. Then one day, while we were on patrol, Heath heard a noise and said he wanted to check it out.”

  Amber couldn’t tell if he was telling this story to take her thoughts off Chris, or if he needed to rid his mind of his own bad memory. Regardless, she wanted to hear what he had to say. “It was bad, I take it?”

  “Yes. I needed to finish packing the gear, so I told him I’d catch up in a second.” Stone ran a hand down his face and his cheeks sagged. “Moments before I met up with him, Heath stepped on a land mind.”

  Amber gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “When I got there, most of both legs were blown off. He was in shock and told me not to get help—that he wanted to die.”

  That sounded so much like Chris. “You couldn’t let him, I bet.”

  “No, but the problem was I was helpless to do anything. I had no training. All I could do was hold him and tell him everything would be okay.” Stone shook his head. “He died in my arms just as the medic ran up to us.”

  Now it was her turn to provide the comfort. She reached out, clasped his hand, and squeezed his palm. “Thank you for telling me.”

  He inhaled deeply. “What happened next, really changed me. After the medic shook his head, the man stayed with me and let me talk on and on about what a great guy Heath was.” He looked over at her. “I knew then how important it was to have someone with you during those really hard times.”

  So this was his way of paying back. She said nothing. Words weren’t needed. Dr. Almaguire opened the door to Chris’s room, and as soon as she saw he was intubated, she froze for a second. Then Stone placed a hand on her back and pressed her forward.

  She walked toward her brother. “Chris?”

  She felt stupid calling his name, but she had to be sure he was really gone. There was the tiniest of hope that he would respond to her voice.

  “If you need me,” the doctor said, “I’ll be in my office.”

  Before she could turn around to thank him, the door closed and she was alone with Chris and Stone. Amber edged near, willing to see her brother move. Though it was dumb, she shook his arm. “Chris? Can you hear me?” Her voice cracked.

  Stone wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Don’t do this to yourself, baby.”

  She shook her head as the tears streamed down her face. “Is he really gone?”

  Stone let go of her, stepped to the side, and lifted her brother’s eyelid. Even she could see that his pupil didn’t register the change in light. Stone let go and stepped back.

  “Oh, Chris. I’m so sorry.” She hiccupped.

  Stone gathered her in his arms and held her tight. “Go ahead and cry. Let it all out.”

  She didn’t know why his words helped, but she buried her face against his flannel shirt. The material smelled fresh like her grandma had put it through the wash with her lemon-scented detergent. She fisted the material and cried. He rubbed her back using soft circular motions. Amber never let anyone see her breakdown, but with Stone, she sensed he understood.

  She had no idea how long she was in his arms, but when she looked up, he bent his head close and all she could focus on was the tenderness in his eyes.

  He straightened. “Come on, Amber. We both need to eat.”

  He must have noticed she hadn’t eaten more than a bite of the sandwich he given her. “I’m sorry I fell apart.”

  He lifted her chin. “If you hadn’t, I’d have been worried about you. It’s healthier to grieve.”

  His sobering words helped her gain some control. Then why didn’t she feel any better?

  She probably should call her mom, but what if her mother hadn’t taken Dr. Almaguire’s call yet? The discussion would be difficult and one of denial.

  Be honest. You don’t want to hear your mom’s response. When Amber did finally speak with her, she would ask her to break the news to Thomas.

  “Come on. Take one last look at Chris and say goodbye.”

  He turned her around, and the sight of her brother tightened her throat. Her bottom lip trembled. As if a heavy blanket fell over her and caused her to suck in much-needed air, she spun around and quickly exited the room, plastering her back against the wall for support. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her ragged breaths.

  When she finally had the courage to open them, Stone was there. He clasped her hand and led her to the elevator. She honestly didn’t care where they went or what they did. Chris was dead, and her life had changed forever.

  Thankfully, Stone didn’t give her any platitudes about how much better off Chris was now, or that she no longer had to worry about taking care of him. Instead, he walked by her side and was there to help her when she needed him. He didn’t bring her to the hospital cafeteria as she expected, but rather guided her outside.

  As if she was on autopilot, she climbed into his truck. He cut down Gold Avenue to Second Street. In less than ten minutes, they arrived in town. Since it wasn’t yet three, there were plenty of places in front of the Valley Café.

  “You okay with this?” Stone’s fingers hovered over the keys as if he’d pull back out if she wanted to eat someplace else.

  “This is fine.” She didn’t care where they ate.

  This time she waited for him to open her door. When he did, she welcomed his strong grip as she stepped to the pavement. The fresh air filled her lungs, helping to blot out the despair.

  They went inside the cozy café where only a few tables were taken.

  “Hey, Stone,” an older woman said from behind the counter.

  “Hi, beautiful.” He looked at Amber. “That’s Bea. She’s the owner.”

  Amber caught him wink at the lady. “You come here a lot I take it?”

  “Sure do.” His grin stirred something deep inside her.

  He planted his hand on her waist and led her to a booth on the side. Once seated, Bea came over. “What can I get you two?”

  “I’ll have a sweet tea,” Amber said.

  Stone smiled. “I’ll have a coffee, darlin’, but be sure to add a double dose of sugar for me, will ya?”

  “You’re already sweet enough, good looking, but I’ll make sure it’s to your liking.” This time it was Bea who winked before waddling back to the counter.

  Stone turned his attention back to Amber. “I know this might be bad timing on my part, and a little premature, but would you like me to help you with the funeral arrangements? Or will your mom come down and help?”

  Funeral? She blew out a breath. “I haven’t had time to even think about that, but Chris would have wanted to be cremated.” Everyone in the family had the same opinion.

  “There still should be a service.”

  She nodded. “I think Chris would have liked that.”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. That was totall
y unsympathetic of me to bring that up.”

  “No. I’m glad you asked. I’m not thinking straight.”

  “You’re doing great, but how about we talk about something else.” He sat back and laced his fingers behind his head, looking totally relaxed. “So tell me about your hobbies.”

  “My hobbies?” That actually caused a tiny bubble of laughter to emerge.

  “Yes, hobbies.”

  Talking about something else would be refreshing. “Mmm.” She had to think. “For the first few months after I arrived, I studied all the time. I had planned on going back to school for my masters, but then the job took over my life.”

  She almost didn’t want to fully analyze what her life was like for fear she’d conclude she’d become too much like her mom. “Sad to say, I have about four girlfriends who I meet with on Thursday nights for drinks. Other than that, I don’t do much.” She unwrapped the silverware from the paper holder. “Unless quilting counts.”

  “It sure as hell does count. My Auntie Carol loved quilting bedspreads, place mats, and even pillowcases. Her whole house was filled with her craft stuff. As a kid I loved to visit her.” His smile looked like it came from deep inside. “I always felt like I was at a country fair when I was visiting her.” He lowered his arms and looked as if the mere mention of her name brought peace. “There’s something warm and good about the love and attention to detail that goes into making a quilt.”

  She couldn’t help but stare at him. “Are you sure you’re real?”

  He stilled. “What do you mean?” He looked around. “You think liking quilts isn’t manly?”

  Now he was yanking her chain. Stone Benson was all man. “Sure it is.”

  “Did I fail to mention my Auntie died a week after I turned eleven?”

  “I’m sorry. She sounded like a wonderful woman.”

  “She was.”

  “What I meant about questioning if you were real was that I’m not used to having a man come to my rescue. On top of that, you like quilts.”

  He delivered a fake scowl. “Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, I’m like every other fireman. I like to party with the boys from the station and do my job the best I can.” He held up a finger. “But you’re crazy if you think you don’t inspire a man to be his best around you.”