Nobody hit him, but someone sat down beside him, then reached down and patted his knee. He opened his eyes and looked at the hand without raising his head. The hand had deep veins and liver marks and wrinkles. It was feminine, but not Mercy.
“How are you feeling, Theodore?”
He recognized Estelle Pinkley’s voice. “How’s Tedi?”
“Not doing too well at the moment, I’m afraid.”
He raised his head, sniffed and wiped the moisture from his face with his sleeve. “What’s wrong with her? What’s happening? They said she was conscious. Is Mercy here yet?”
“Yes, she came in a few moments ago. Tedi isn’t feeling as well as she was when she first woke up.”
Theo’s head didn’t swim now, but his stomach churned with nausea and fresh fear. What had he done?
Estelle grabbed some tissues from the box beside the sofa. She laid them in Theo’s lap. “Here you go. I know that sleeve’s awfully handy, but it’s already a mess.”
He took the tissues and wiped his face with them. “What’re they doing with Tedi?”
“All they can do. You know, Theodore, although I’ve been blessed these past forty-five years to be married to a strong man who knows how to be tender, I grew up with three testosterone-ridden brothers and I know the hazards of male pride. Some men would rather die than admit they have a problem. But what if it kills someone they love?”
The words struck him like a railroad tie in the gut. He sucked in his breath as he looked into her all-seeing eyes.
“Tedi is still going through some tests. But, Theodore, tests are subjective,” she said quietly. She held his gaze.
He blinked at her.
“We’ve got good doctors here, but they aren’t God. They x-ray what they think might be damaged, just as they run blood tests for particular needs. They can’t find every little thing if they don’t know what to look for.”
Slowly Theo realized what she was saying.
She continued to watch him, as if studying every move of his face for signs of weakness. “I’ve worked with people a lot of years, Theodore. I’ve learned to depend on my ability to read people, and I think I’ve become quite good at it. Can you honestly tell me that Tedi is suffering from a simple bump on the head?”
He looked away, looked down, then buried his face once more in his hands.
Tedi sighed with relief when they finally took that big, hard collar from her neck. She tried to concentrate as Mom talked to the radiologist and to Dr. Bower. The CT was normal, whatever that meant. They said she had a large contu…something on the back of her head. What in the world were bone windows? Anyway, they were normal, too. Why did doctors have to speak a different language from other people? Didn’t it just confuse things worse?
With another yawn, Tedi closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Her neck still hurt, though, and that buzzing still bothered her, even though Mom said she couldn’t hear anything. Maybe something was wrong with Mom’s hearing.
The radiologist left, and Tedi listened to her mother’s worried voice float over her.
“Something else is going on, Lukas. I don’t like this.”
Gentle hands touched her face, and she opened her eyes to find Dr. Bower bent over her.
“Tedi, how are you feeling?”
“Weird.”
“Describe that feeling to me.”
“My neck still hurts, and can’t you hear that sound? Mom can’t hear it.”
“Which direction is the sound coming from?”
Tedi glanced around toward Mom. “That way somewhere.”
“And show me where your neck hurts.”
She raised her left hand and touched her neck, then frowned and held her arm out. She couldn’t see it very well. It looked fuzzy. She looked up at Mom’s face. It looked fuzzy, too. That was when she got scared.
“Mom, what’s happening to me?”
Theo wished he could die. Mrs. Pinkley’s words kept running through his mind, and he couldn’t make them stop. The doctors didn’t know what to look for. They were treating Tedi for a bump on the head. What if he’d done worse damage? What if he’d broken her neck or something, and they overlooked it because they didn’t know?
He picked up the cup of coffee Mrs. Pinkley had brought him and downed it with one swallow. It was lukewarm. He choked on the dregs. He couldn’t let anything happen to his little girl.
With heart pounding, he stepped out of the waiting room and crossed the hallway to the E.R. He heard Mercy’s voice mingle with others, and he walked in that direction.
He stepped into the exam room where Mercy stood. The voices fell silent.
He looked into Mercy’s accusing gaze, and then glanced down at Tedi. Her eyes were closed and tears moistened her cheeks.
Theo still felt woozy from the aftereffects of the booze. He had to tell them.
“How is she?” he asked.
“Worse.” Dr. Bower held a stethoscope to Tedi’s chest. “Claudia, check her BP again, and do an O2 sat.”
“Keep looking,” Theo said. “Is her neck okay?”
Dr. Bower glanced up at him sharply. “Why do you ask?”
Theo grimaced. He had to say it. Out of the edge of his vision he saw Mercy take a step toward him. He had to tell them, anyway.
“I hit her.”
“How?” Bower demanded.
“What do you mean, how?”
“Where did you hit her? How hard? Which hand did you use? Which way did she fall?”
He looked at Mercy then. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I just—”
“I don’t care why you did it!” Bower shouted. “Just tell me how!”
With a feeling of unreality, Theo told them. To his surprise, Mercy did not lunge for him, but bent down over Tedi again.
Dr. Bower turned to the nurse. “Catch the radiologist before he leaves. We need him to read a stat Doppler ultrasound.” He bent down and gently placed his stethoscope against Tedi’s throat, listened, looked at Mercy. “I don’t hear a bruit, but that doesn’t mean anything. Look at her left eyelid. Ptosis.”
Mercy leaned closer. “You’re right, it’s drooping. We’ve got to get her out of here.”
Bower called to Carol. “Call for an airlift. She’ll need an emergency arteriogram and maybe surgery. She’s got a carotid dissection.”
Theo watched them work over his daughter for a moment, then turned away and opened his cell phone. He dialed 9-1-1.
“Hello, I need to report a child abuse case.”
The chopper lifted off with Tedi as the police placed her father in the back of a squad car.
Epilogue
Saturday morning Estelle Pinkley sat in her quiet study, barely aware of the low hum of the air conditioner, of the rays of sunlight that escaped the vertical blinds of sliding glass doors that led out to her spacious deck. Her sweet, understanding husband always gave her as much quiet time as she wanted on Saturdays to regroup, especially after a difficult week. This past one had probably been the worst of her career at Knolls Community Hospital.
The sound of her doorbell echoed in the distance. She didn’t look up until the study door opened and Bailey Little stepped through the thickly carpeted threshold. For the first time since she had known him, he looked disheveled. He wore no tie, his hair was not combed, and he had not shaved for at least a couple of days. His eagle-eyed sharpness had deteriorated to a grief-stricken, teary-eyed mess.
“Bailey,” she said as she stood up from her easy chair. “Come on in. I’m so sorry—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” The glare he leveled at her was filled with anger and pain. He held up some papers. “Do you know what these are?”
“Bailey, come and sit down. We can talk about—”
“I’m finished talking.” He stood stiffly in the middle of the room, right hand fisted on the sheets he carried. “I got this fax from the coroner thirty minutes ago. Do you want to guess what it is?”
She sat down with a resigned
sigh. She knew it was Dwayne’s autopsy report. “I don’t need to guess, Bailey.”
He threw the top page down on the coffee table in front of her. “This shows clearly that my son died of a ruptured spleen and a lacerated liver. The CT showed a skull fracture but no bleeding.” He let copies of other reports drop to the table on top of the first. “These are Dwayne’s medical records from Knolls Community Hospital. You’re a sharp woman. I bet you already know what they say.”
“Yes, Bailey.” Not only had Jarvis George given Dwayne morphine and a script for more, but he had let the boy drive away high on drugs. And when Dwayne had been brought back to him, battered from the wreck, Jarvis hadn’t even checked for internal bleeding. He’d concentrated on the head.
“Your doctor killed my son,” Bailey snarled. “My only child is dead, and Jarvis George and Knolls Community Hospital are going to pay for that death!”
Tedi Zimmerman switched the channels on the television control at Cox South pediatrics unit in Springfield. The Saturday morning cartoons bored her. She preferred playing with the bed controls, and the nurse had reprimanded her for it twice already. Tedi grinned to herself, then shot a surreptitious glance at Grandma Ivy sitting at the bedside chair. Grandma had her head back, her mouth open, and she was snoring softly.
Eventually, Tedi switched off the television and lay back against her pillow.
The sudden silence woke Grandma. She snorted, then straightened in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She pulled herself up stiffly to her feet and stepped over to the bed. “Not feeling well?”
Tedi reached up and touched the gauze that covered her neck. She sighed heavily. “I’m bored.”
Grandma smiled. “Child, you haven’t even been out of surgery for thirty-six hours, and you’re already feeling as well as if nothing ever happened.”
“When will Mom be back?”
Grandma glanced at her watch. “In a couple of hours. She’ll drive back as soon as the funeral’s over.”
Once again Tedi reached up and touched the bandage at her throat. “Grandma, is it a sin to think something bad if you don’t actually say it?”
“That depends on if you dwell on it or not. We can’t stop some bad things from entering our minds, but as soon as they do, we’ve got to confess them. Tell it to God. He’ll help you control those bad thoughts.”
Tedi sighed. “Okay, then I’m sorry I wished it was Dad’s funeral Mom was going to.”
Grandma didn’t act shocked; she just nodded. “I know the feeling. And if it’s that hard for me to control my feelings about all this, I can imagine how it must be for a ten-year-old. Does this mean you remember what happened Thursday?”
“He hit me.” Tedi fiddled with the bed controls again. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”
“Yes. He admitted it. That’s how they knew what was wrong with you.”
“What did Mom do when she found out?” Tedi asked.
“She did what any good mother would do. She took care of you and let the police handle Theodore.”
Tedi gaped at Grandma. “The police?”
“Yep. He called them himself.”
Wow. “Is he in jail now?”
“Yes.”
“For hitting me?”
“Yes, Tedi. There are laws against things like that.”
Tedi frowned and gazed out the window for a moment. “Grandma, does this mean I’ll get to live with Mom when I get out of here?”
“Of course. You can’t live with your father in jail.” Grandma took Tedi’s hand and squeezed it. “Your mother already has custody, and your father hasn’t fought her at all. He’s requested hospitalization for his alcoholism once he gets out of jail.”
“I hope he never gets out. I hope he dies there.”
“What your father did was bad, Tedi. He’s done a lot of bad things, but he’s still your father. And in spite of the way he acted, he loved you enough to tell the doctors what he did.”
“But he did it in the first place, didn’t he? I could have died, couldn’t I, Grandma?”
There was a long hesitation. “I don’t even want to think about that, Tedi. I can’t stand the thought of it.”
“But I could have.”
“You didn’t. Tedi, have you ever done anything bad?”
Tedi shot her a quick look. “Yeah.”
“So have I, and I felt awful afterward. How did you feel?”
“Terrible.”
“Do you think God was strong enough to forgive you?”
“Yes. Do you think He’s going to forgive Dad?”
“Don’t you think He can?”
“Yeah, but I’m not as strong as God.”
“You don’t have to be, Tedi.”
Lukas allowed the organ music to melt over him as he sat near the front of the funeral home. He couldn’t play backseat Baptist today, because there weren’t enough people to stretch that far. Frankie didn’t have any remaining family, and so Shelly and her husband and kids sat in the recessed section reserved for special guests. Shelly did the part justice.
That strange combination of sadness and joy pervaded Lukas as it always did when he attended a Christian funeral. It was a loss, but it was also a final triumph in the knowledge that the person who had lived in this earthly shell would no longer suffer pain.
Maybe, as some said, it was a simplistic way to look at life and death, but Lukas didn’t care. He believed it, and he’d never been proven wrong—not about that.
Lately he’d been wrong about a lot of things, but for some reason only God knew, Lukas had been reinstated in the E.R. at Knolls. Not only that, he was now the acting director as long as Jarvis was in the hospital. That would be a while. Jarvis was battling TB encephalitis in the Cox South ICU, brought on by a certain needlestick incident.
Six months ago Lukas would have felt exonerated, maybe even gloated a little—as soon as he knew Jarvis was out of danger, of course. Now he didn’t feel exonerated. He felt sad for Jarvis and grateful that the old troublemaker was still alive.
Lukas smiled to himself. The turning point had been the resignation he’d offered Mrs. Pinkley. He would never have done that before, would have considered it stupid and wimpy. Now he didn’t. Maybe he was maturing.
Sure had taken him long enough.
“Mind if I sit here?”
He glanced up in surprise to find Mercy standing in the aisle, grinning at him. He stared at her for a moment before scooting over. She sat down beside him and took his hand, then bowed her head for the opening prayer.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Dr. Lukas Bower came to work at a place completely different from his last job in a large hospital in Kansas City. He was disillusioned by the way he was treated by people with political clout, and yet encountered it in Knolls, as well. How would you feel if this happened to you? Would you be as determined as Lukas to follow hospital protocol, even after the director tried to ignore the needlestick? What could Lukas have done differently?
Two of Lukas Bower’s first patients introduced in Sacred Trust were Frankie Verris and Jane Conn. Frankie tried to kill himself, and Jane signed a form instructing medical personnel not to resuscitate her should her heart stop beating. Do you see a difference between the two? Could you identify with either of them? Could you understand why Ivy was so reluctant to let her mother die?
Lukas discovered he had a couple of tough allies in Estelle Pinkley and Mercy Richmond. Do you think he might have had a little trouble depending on women to rescue him, or did he come across as a man who is comfortable in his masculinity?
Lauren McCaffrey made it obvious that she admired Lukas, and her friendly personality could have made it easier for him to be more attracted to her than to Mercy Richmond. Why do you think he was more drawn to Mercy? Do you think Lauren was too pushy?
Tedi Zimmerman lived in fear of her father, and yet she was also afraid of what he might do to Mercy if she fought him for custody. Would it have helped if Tedi ha
d been more adamant about her fears? Would anyone have listened who could have done anything about it?
Mercy’s helpless rage toward her ex-husband affected her life in so many ways. Can you list some of those ways?
Ivy Richmond was determined to retain her independence and normal activity level despite an apparent heart problem. Do you think she should have slowed down, or should she have pushed on and lived life on her terms as long as she could? What would you do? Do you know anyone like Ivy?
Darlene and Clarence Knight were in a situation they couldn’t escape on their own, though they’d tried to do it for years. Some people may look at Clarence and their first opinion may be one of disapproval. Does your opinion of Clarence change when you discover the trail of inevitable failures he suffered on his way to this place in his life? What would you do in his place? In Darlene’s?
Jarvis George’s situation worsened as time went on, and yet he continued to clash with the man who might have helped him prevent the problem in the first place. If you were in Jarvis’s shoes, when would you admit you were in trouble and ask for help?
Lukas had two women interested in him. One was a Christian who shared his beliefs, and who was obviously a kind and good person. The other woman had suffered some major heartbreaks in her life, and had a darker outlook. She is not a Christian. Do you think Lukas is wise to continue a friendship with Mercy as it becomes apparent that his affection for her is deepening past friendship? Do you think people have the ability to make a choice about whom they will and will not love?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3857-6
SACRED TRUST
Harlequin Enterprises Limited/2009
First published by Bethany House Publishers
Copyright ©1999 by Hannah Alexander
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
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