A Mother's Love

by Dawn Stewardson

  By the time she’d finished asking him questions, they’d driven through the Holland Tunnel into Manhattan and were heading north to Bellevue.

  She gazed out at the pulsating city as he drove, thinking it could easily be on a different planet from Villa Rosa. Could be an entire galaxy away from her world. From where she belonged.

  Or, at this point, did she belong back in the U.S.A. with Hank?

  Even as the question formed in her mind, she was rephrasing it. Did she belong with a man who could as easily be lying in a morgue as in a hospital bed?

  Her throat began to ache. This time, he’d been lucky. But no matter how much she loved him, she just didn’t see how she could go through life terrified that there’d be a next time.

  “You okay?” Travis said.

  She glanced at him and nodded a lie.

  He drove on until they stopped for a red light, then looked over and said, “Our backup got to the scene before the ambulance did. So I let them take charge of the perp and rode to the hospital with Hank. And the whole way there he talked about you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he was less upset about what had happened than about how you were going to react to it.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” she said quietly.

  “Uh-uh. I’m not. Well, all right, maybe just a little. But I don’t know if you realize how totally crazy he is about you, and he...

  “Look, maybe you’re thinking this is none of my business, but Hank isn’t only my partner. He’s the best friend I’ve got. And he’s a great guy.”

  “Travis, I know he is.”

  When he eyed her for a second, as if trying to figure out exactly how much he should take from her words, she added, “That isn’t the problem.”

  “No. No, of course it’s not,” he said wearily. “But Hank...

  “Natalie, I understand how you feel. And why. And I realize this thing will have made it even worse.

  “But I know how Hank feels, too. And...I’ve never seen him like this about a woman before. Not even remotely close to like this. Since his marriage broke up he’s hardly dated, let alone...”

  The light turned green and they started forward again.

  “When we came on shift last night,” Travis continued, “the first thing he told me was that you’d decided you were going to see someone. Try to work through your fear.

  “He said that was real progress, and he was just so very happy...”

  She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear what Travis was saying. Last night she’d been happy, too. Then this morning, reality had come crashing down around her.

  But whether she wanted to hear it or not, he wasn’t finished. “On the way to the hospital, he must have said a dozen times that now you’d never see your way clear to...”

  “It would have been hard enough before,” she murmured.

  Now...well, as limited as her “progress” had been, at this point she was back to where she’d started—if not miles further back.

  Travis was silent for a few beats, then said, “Nothing worthwhile is easy. But the way he feels about you...

  “Natalie, as the saying goes, people get killed crossing the street.”

  “I know.”

  “And nothing like this has ever happened to either Hank or me before. It’ll probably never happen again.”

  “No guarantees, though.”

  “I only wish there were. But we all know life doesn’t come with guarantees.”

  She nodded slowly, vaguely aware she’d said almost that exact same thing to Hank—when he’d been upset about the idea of her taking Robbie to a country prone to earthquakes.

  “Even so,” Travis was saying, “if you love Hank, doesn’t it make sense to at least still talk to someone?”

  She stared at her hands, thinking that loving someone wasn’t supposed to be so hard.

  “Doesn’t it?” he repeated.

  “I’m not sure,” she said truthfully.

  They made the rest of the trip in silence, but Travis might as well have still been in there pitching on Hank’s behalf, because she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. And about what Celeste had said.

  Hank couldn’t ask for better friends.

  Finally Travis said, “That’s Bellevue up ahead.”

  She’d never seen it before, but it was the sort of ancient, sprawling hospital that stood near the center of most large American cities. And the instant they walked through the front entrance, a familiar, faintly stale and antiseptic smell enveloped them, reminding her of the hospital where she’d worked, a lifetime ago, in Detroit.

  Travis led the way to the elevators and they rode up to the sixth floor.

  As they got off, he said, “It’s Room 6112 and Hank has it to himself. At least, there was nobody in the other bed earlier.

  “I’ll wait here for you,” he added, gesturing toward a worn couch sitting off to one side.

  “Oh, but you might as well take this.” He held out the shirt on a hanger, which they’d brought from the house.

  She took it, then started down the old corridor—awash with anxiety and wondering why she felt so anxious when everything was basically okay.

  Because, thanks to his partner, she knew exactly how Hank was feeling, and she didn’t want to make him feel even worse?

  Yes, that was undoubtedly it. But she didn’t want to give him false hopes, either.

  Pausing outside his room, she took a deep breath before she walked in.

  He was gazing at the doorway, so he spotted her the instant she did. And for a split second, until he masked it, she saw fear in his eyes. Fear of what the shooting meant to them.

  It made her want to cry.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “IT LOOKS WORSE than it is,” Hank said.

  Natalie forced a smile. “If that wasn’t true you’d be dead.”

  He was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms but no top, and his chest was a massive bruise from the shoulders on down. Portions of it were black, others purple, still others a dark shade of blue.

  She crossed to the bed. Then, being careful not to brush against his chest, she leaned close and kissed him.

  “Hurts to breathe, doesn’t it,” she said as she drew back and draped the shirt they’d brought him over a chair.

  “A little.”

  “You’re lying. Anything more than a shallow breath kills.”

  “Anyone ever told you your bedside manner needs work?”

  She managed another smile and perched on the edge of the bed, taking one of his hands in both of hers. “What about your head? How does it feel?”

  “Not as bad as it did earlier. You think the gazillion pain pills they gave me had something to do with that?”

  “I think it’s a pretty good guess.”

  “Did Travis bring you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I asked him to go to the house rather than phone.”

  “He did. And Celeste came along to look after Robbie.”

  “Ah. That was good thinking. I was hoping you wouldn’t bring him.... Well, first of all, I was just hoping you’d come.”

  “You thought I might not?”

  “I wasn’t sure.”

  “Oh, Hank, this scared me half to death, but...”

  “But what?”

  “It...didn’t change the way I feel about you.”

  He gazed at her uneasily for a moment, then said, “Did it change your decision to see someone? To try to...”

  “I’ll still have a go at it,” she made herself say.

  His relief was so obvious she had to resist the urge to warn him that “having a go” was a long, long way from succeeding.

  “You know how that makes me feel?” he murmured.

  She kissed him again, partly because she wanted to, partly because she didn’t want him to tell her.

  Last night, she’d promised she’d try counseling. And she wouldn’t go back on her word.

  But she’d given it before he’
d almost gotten killed. And at this point, she suspected the odds that talking to someone would help her face down her fear were somewhere between low and zero.

  When she ended the kiss and eased away, he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few hours.”

  Her heart began to thud. Maybe, even if counseling didn’t help...? Had he been thinking about quitting the force? Had this incident woken him up to the reality of the danger?

  “And I keep coming back to the fact that I’ve been asking you to do all the compromising,” he continued.

  She held her breath, waiting.

  “I just didn’t see how I could realistically do any of it. But it’s occurred to me that we might be able to work things out so you wouldn’t have to entirely give up your life in Villa Rosa.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning would American Physicians Abroad go for your spending only a couple of months a year working there? If they would, you could take Robbie down for the summers. And Emma, if we went ahead with...”

  “Even though there’s a risk of earthquakes?”

  “I’m still not comfortable with that, but if I’m going to do some of the compromising...”

  He started to shrug, then stopped himself—which told her that even a little upper-body movement caused him pain.

  “You said you wanted Robbie to learn what life is like in Guatemala. That way he would.

  “And I could spend my vacation time with you. So we’d only really be apart for one month, yet you could still...

  “What do you think, Natalie?”

  She gazed at him, thinking he was trying so damned hard it hurt. And that it would break both their hearts if they didn’t end up together.

  As the silence stretched between them, Hank could feel himself growing more and more uneasy.

  But at last Natalie said, “I think they might go for it. If the alternatives were two months or nothing.”

  He felt his heartbeat accelerating and warned himself not to let his hopes get too high. Her response hardly qualified as unbridled enthusiasm.

  Still, before she’d walked in here, he hadn’t dared dream he’d even be this lucky, had been virtually certain she’d tell him they were through, that there was simply no chance for them.

  Now, knowing she hadn’t entirely written them off made him feel like wrapping his arms around her and holding her forever.

  However, since merely the wrapping-around part would likely start him screaming in agony, he just let her go on.

  “A lot of doctors only sign up for brief stints,” she said. “As breaks from their regular practices.

  “And it’s one of those organizations that’s always short of qualified people. So if they knew they could count on me for a couple of months every summer...

  “Well, I’d have to talk to them about it, of course, but if you and I did get to the stage of...”

  If. He’d really begun to hate that word, would give anything to have her say she’d marry him and they’d deal with all the rest as it came.

  She wasn’t there yet, though. And for all he knew...

  He gazed at her, wondering where she’d be after she’d had more time to consider things.

  He’d come close enough to death in the Blue Cat that he’d smelled the stench of its breath in his face. But maybe that fact hadn’t really hit her full-force yet.

  When she was sitting in the house tonight, though, thinking about how narrowly he’d escaped...

  Well, he just couldn’t let her be alone with her thoughts. Because if he did, she might decide...

  “Why don’t we get out of here,” he said.

  “Pardon?”

  “There’s no real reason I can’t go home, is there?”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “Celeste told me they want to keep you for observation.”

  “That’s just routine, isn’t it?”

  “Uh-uh. You sustained a concussion, which means someone has to keep an eye on you for the first twenty-four hours. Wake you up regularly if you fall asleep to make sure you haven’t lapsed into a coma.”

  “What’s wrong with your doing it?”

  “Hank, I—”

  “You’re a doctor.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you can’t go to Madison Plains this afternoon anyhow. Celeste won’t want to look after Robbie forever.”

  “No, she probably has work to do. But I hadn’t given the hospital a second’s thought.”

  As she glanced at her watch, he said, “Travis is here someplace?”

  “He’s waiting down the hall.”

  “Then you can use his cell phone to call Cynthia. Mine’s with my wallet and other stuff. Wherever they stashed it.”

  She nodded. “Good idea. And I’ll have to ask her to explain to Emma that I can’t visit today.”

  He gave her his best smile—at least smiling didn’t hurt—then said, “Since you’ll be stuck at the house anyway, there’s just no reason I shouldn’t go home now. It’s not as if I’m hooked up to a monitor or something. All that’s happening is a nurse sticks her head in now and then to ask how I feel. So as long as you’re with me... And how about Robbie? Have you told him what happened?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Even more reason, then. If I don’t go home you’ll have to explain that I got hurt. And if he can’t see for himself it’s not serious he’ll be really scared.”

  Natalie eyed him for a minute, then wordlessly walked over to the door and took his chart from its holder.

  “I’d be okay at home, right?” he said as she read it.

  “Your lungs checked out fine, no heart damage, no ruptured arteries. Nothing but the ribs and the concussion. Oh, Hank, we were just so lucky.”

  We.

  He exhaled slowly. He might have started to hate if, but we had to be the most beautiful word in the English language.

  * * *

  NATALIE HAD HALF EXPECTED Robbie to be watching for them when Travis pulled into the driveway. Fortunately, he wasn’t.

  If he had been, he’d probably have come racing out. And their preferred plan involved her going in first to explain that he couldn’t greet his father with a flying tackle.

  She made it all the way to the house without his spotting her. Once inside, she discovered why. He and Celeste were in the kitchen, eating ice cream.

  “Hi!” He greeted her with a grin.

  “We’ve been having a great time,” Celeste said. “No problems. No tough questions for me. Everything’s cool.”

  As she rose from the table, Robbie looked past Natalie and asked, “Where’s Uncle Travis?”

  “He’s still in the car, talking to your dad.”

  Celeste raised her eyebrows.

  Natalie gave her a quick nod, then added, “He drove both of us home.”

  “Why? Where’s my daddy’s car?”

  “He left it in the city. In the precinct parking garage.”

  Robbie stuffed another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, then slid off his chair.

  “Darling, wait a minute,” she said. “You’ve got that all over your chin. Let’s get it off before you go anywhere.”

  She wet a paper towel and knelt down to wipe his face, aware he was just itching to head out to see Hank. Before he could make good his escape, she took his hands in hers.

  “Robbie, listen for a minute. No, look at me and listen,” she added when he turned his head toward the hall. “This is important.”

  He reluctantly turned to her again.

  “Your dad is okay, but he got banged on the chest and it’s sore. So you have to be really careful around him, okay? No playing rough for a while. Not even any hugs. You understand?”

  He nodded, but she had a feeling that he’d forget what she’d said in about five seconds.

  “Come on.” She lifted him up. “Why don’t we all go see if he’s finished talking to Uncle Travis.”

  When the three of them got outside, the men were standing next t
o the Mustang. Hank, she realized, had seized the opportunity to get out of the car without Robbie watching—a good idea, considering the obvious pain that folding himself into it had caused.

  “Hey, big guy,” he called as they started across the lawn. “Did you and Celeste have fun?”

  “Uh-huh,” Robbie said, squirming to be put down.

  “You just stay with me for a minute, okay?” Natalie whispered, holding on to him.

  “I didn’t expect to see you quite this soon,” Celeste told Hank.

  “Yeah, well, you know how it is. Bellevue has a certain charm. But as the saying goes, there’s no place like home.”

  “Well, we’d better hit the road,” Travis said, opening the car door for Celeste.

  “You take care of yourself,” he added to Hank while she kissed Robbie goodbye and gave Natalie’s hand a hard squeeze.

  “Thanks for everything. Both of you,” Natalie told them—Hank echoing her thanks as they climbed into the car.

  The moment Travis began backing down the driveway, Robbie held out his arms to Hank.

  He glanced at Natalie; she nodded that, yes, she’d told him.

  “How about if you walk,” he suggested, focusing on Robbie again. “I’m not supposed to lug big guys like you around for the next couple of weeks.”

  “Why?” he asked as Natalie set him down.

  “Because my chest hurts.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s kind of a long story. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain.”

  In the house, Robbie eyed Hank uncertainly as he eased himself onto the couch.

  “Come sit here beside me,” he said, patting the cushion next to him while Natalie sank into one of the wing chairs. “But don’t knock against me, okay?”

  Robbie crawled up onto the couch and cautiously settled a few inches away.

  “All right,” Hank said. “What happened is I had a little accident at work.”

  “Did a bad guy hurt you?”

  Hank looked at Natalie.

  She quickly shook her head, murmuring, “Celeste said no questions. That everything was cool.”

  He turned toward Robbie once more, saying, “What gave you that idea?”