“Hush, Nettie,” Darcy said, perhaps, a bit too harshly. “Let us help you.”
“But I…don’t…want to be…a bother,” she managed, her voice watery and weak.
“You’re not a bother, Nettie,” Darcy said as she bustled around the room, searching for Nettie’s clothes.
Leah returned.
“Did you talk to the doctor?” Darcy snapped as she searched high and low for Nettie’s shoes.
“Yes, ma’am. He said he’d meet us at the emergency room.” She darted away and returned with a pair of white canvas shoes. “Were you looking for these?”
Darcy snatched them out of Leah’s hand. “Yes. Now, go call your mother and tell her we’re going to the hospital so she won’t come all the way out here to pick you up and worry.” She knew Earline would worry anyway, but at least she’d know what to worry about. “Tell her Gramma is in no immediate danger. It’s just precautionary.”
Leah scuttled away, and Darcy turned to Nettie. “You’re going to have to help me. We’re going out to the swing, then I’ll pull the car around so you don’t have to walk too far.”
Nettie nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured weakly as Darcy hauled her up off the bed and looped the woman’s arm over her shoulder. Nettie was frail, but Darcy was no weightlifter, either. She drew a deep breath and all but dragged her toward the porch swing.
Now Darcy could see why Billy was so concerned about having someone be with his mother. She’d bet her week’s pay that Nettie had refused to let Leah call for help, and Leah, good girl that she was, hadn’t known enough about the condition to do it anyway.
It was too far to wait for an ambulance to come all the way out from Pittsville. She had no time to waste in getting Nettie to the hospital.
“Momma said she’d meet us there,” Leah said, her face so pale that her freckles stood out in relief. “Is Gramma gonna die?” she whispered.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Darcy managed as she maneuvered her charge onto the swing. “Leah, sit here so your grandmother doesn’t fall while I get the car.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Leah’s voice trembled and Darcy wished she had a moment to reassure the girl, but time was of the essence. Leah’s fears would have to wait.
She ran to the car, amazed that she still had the keys in her pocket. Someone up there must be looking out for her. She flung the door open, slid behind the wheel, and jammed the key into the ignition. She turned the key and held her breath until the engine of the old car caught.
Then she gunned it and threw the car into reverse, sending a shower of dirt and gravel flying everywhere and leaving an ugly set of ruts in the dusty lane. Ruts were the least of her worries.
Darcy pulled the car as close to the steps as she could get it, rueing the damage she’d probably done to the lawn. She could fix the lawn later. Nettie needed her now.
How she and Leah managed to get Nettie into the car, Darcy didn’t know, but her adrenaline must really have been pumping when she all but carried the woman down the stairs. She buckled Nettie in, then herself, and barked an order to Leah to do the same, then she eased the car off the lawn.
Praying that she wouldn’t encounter anyone from the sheriff’s department on the way, Darcy headed for town.
They made the trip in record time, and Darcy pulled the car up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. She was afraid she’d have to lean on the horn, but an attendant with a wheelchair was there before she’d applied the brakes. She let him take Nettie inside, then looked for a place to park.
Her heart was beating so fast, Darcy thought it would explode, but she’d gotten Nettie here, and that was all that mattered. She found a slot and pulled in and shut off the engine, then rested her head against the steering wheel.
“Is Gramma going to be all right now?” Leah asked plaintively from the back seat.
Darcy had forgotten about Leah. She turned to the terrified girl, and patted her head. “I’m sure the doctor and everyone at the hospital will do all they can.”
“Is she going to die?” the girl asked again.
“I don’t know, Leah.” Darcy closed her eyes and tried to will her racing heart to slow. “Why don’t we go inside and wait for your mother?”
“What are we gonna tell Momma?”
Darcy fumbled with the latch and pushed her door open with trembling hands. She had to get inside before the adrenaline rush left her and she crashed. “I don’t know, Leah. We’ll have to see what the doctor says.”
She made it across the parking lot and in through the automatic doors on wobbly legs. Darcy looked around for someone to talk to, but before she found anyone, her legs gave out, and she sank, boneless, onto a chair.
In all her haste to get Nettie to the hospital in time, she’d forgotten one thing. Billy.
How was she going to tell him?
BILL TRIED to ignore the persistent horseplay in the parachute shop and busied himself getting ready for the night practice jump. Though he enjoyed parachuting in the daytime, night jumps were a different matter. Not that he’d let on to anybody on the team.
A lot of guys signed on to Special Ops because they loved skydiving. He’d done it for the extra pay.
Danny Murphey strolled by and swatted him on the butt with the leg of his jumpsuit. “Hey, what’s this business about you taking off every other weekend or so to go home? You’d think you had a girl up there or something.”
Murphey didn’t know how close to the truth he’d come. Bill felt the heat run out of his face, but he keep his eyes trained on his locker and hoped nobody had seen his reaction. “What’s it to ya if I do?” Only the captain and Senior Master Sergeant Blocker knew the full story, and Bill intended to keep it that way.
“Leave the man be, Murphey. Don’t you got something better to do than goose him? Nobody ribbed you about Allison,” Sergeant Blocker said, a fierce scowl making his dark face even darker.
Bill didn’t know what the deal was about Allison, but apparently it was just the thing to shut Murphey up. The man blushed to the roots of his red hair.
“Yo, somebody’s been in my locker,” Ski yelled from the other side of the equipment room.
“What makes you say that?” Block strode to where Ski stood looking at his locker door.
“The lock’s not closed.”
“You sure you didn’t just leave it undone?”
“Hell no. I never leave it unlocked. And look here, it looks like somebody picked it.” Ski held the lock up to the sergeant. “See, there’s scratches around the keyhole.”
“I’ll be damned. It does look like it’s been messed with. You find anything missin’?”
Ski rummaged through the contents. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Bus’s here. Fall in,” Lieutenant Marx called from the door.
“Maybe the scratches were there all along,” Block said. “Just make sure it’s locked up tight and let’s go.”
Ski grumbled, but he did as the sergeant told him. He slammed the locker shut, snapped the lock closed, then tugged on it to make certain it had caught.
“Come on, Ski. You can inventory your stuff when we get back.” Bill pulled up the zipper that ran the length of his leg all the way up his jumpsuit to his chin. He hoisted his parachute harness to his shoulder and prepared to board the crew bus that would take them to the waiting aircraft.
“Hold it, Hays. You’re not going,” Lieutenant Marx said, barring Bill’s passage with his arm. “Go see the captain in the shop.”
“But, I need this j—” Bill protested.
“No, you don’t,” Block countered. “You just got back from the Nellis trip. You got more than your share of jumps for the quarter. You don’t need no pay jump. Go on,” he said, jerking his head toward the captain’s office in the other building. “See what the captain wants.”
Bill didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved. The captain needing to see him was another matter. What could he possibly want that would keep him from t
aking off with the rest of the team?
Only one way to find out. He stowed his gear back in the locker he’d just shut and set off to see the captain.
The expression on Captain Thibodeaux’s face was grim, and Bill wondered briefly what he might have done, then another thought struck him. “Is it my mother?”
He could barely breathe while he waited what seemed like hours for the captain to speak.
“Your mother’s been admitted to hospital. Pneumonia, they think. She’s not in any immediate danger, but according to your sister, her condition has not stabilized.”
Bill tried to speak, but his throat was too dry.
“I’ve arranged for you to take emergency leave,” Thibodeaux said, handing Bill the necessary papers. “It’s for a week. If you need more, just let me know.” He smiled as if trying to make Bill feel better.
“Thank you, Captain. I’ll leave right away.”
“Take care, Bill. You don’t need to worry your mother more by having an accident yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” Bill said, then turned.
He was halfway to the car before he wondered if he’d been properly dismissed.
DARCY WAS STIFF and uncomfortable from trying to sleep in a plastic chair in the waiting room outside the ICU. She had made Earline take Leah home and promised to call if there was any change, but so far the only change was the position of the hands on the clock on the waiting-room wall.
She yawned and stretched and got up to try to walk some of the kinks out. Her left foot felt as if she were walking on pins and needles, but the rest of her was wide awake. She peered through the glass windows of Nettie’s cubicle and was rewarded with the steady blink of the cardiac monitor.
Doctor Williamson had started Nettie on a course of antibiotics and a diuretic to help clear fluid from her tissues. Barring any complications, Nettie would be home soon.
Still, Darcy couldn’t help feeling that it was her fault. She should have noticed it sooner. How could Nettie have gone from a seemingly healthy cardiac patient that morning, to so seriously ill by afternoon?
A loud whoosh breaking into the eerie silence of the hospital after midnight announced that someone had come in through the automatic doors. Hoping it was somebody who could give her more information as to Nettie’s condition, Darcy looked up.
Bill, clad in camouflage battle dress uniform and shoving a scarlet beret into his thigh pocket strode through the doors.
Without thinking about her reasons or the consequences, Darcy rushed into his arms.
Nothing could have felt better than the way he wrapped his arms around her in response. Pressing her cheek against his broad, hard chest, Darcy breathed in the scent of smoke and aviation fuel and Bill and warmed her chilled blood with the heat from his solid body.
“How is she?”
Darcy drew in a long, slow breath. This was the part she hated. Here was where she’d have to admit that she’d failed him. She pulled back and took his hands. Then she looked down and rested her forehead against his chest. Hoping he wouldn’t push her away, she whispered, “Oh, Billy, I’m so sorry. I promised you I’d take care of your mother and I’ve let you down. I should have caught it sooner.”
Bill said nothing for a long moment, but Darcy could feel him draw in a deep breath. She waited for him to do something, anything. Finally, he let go of her hands, and Darcy mourned the loss of his touch.
Would he ever hold her again?
She stepped back, steeling herself for whatever Bill would dish out.
He reached for her, tipped her face up and looked down into her eyes.
Chapter Nine
“Darcy, you did what you could,” Bill said, his voice thick from exhaustion and emotion. “I didn’t expect miracles. If you hadn’t known what to do, it could have been so much worse.” Billy drew in a deep breath and looked over Darcy’s head toward the nurses’ station. His eyes burned, and though he wanted to convince himself that the stinging was because of exhaustion and the long, tense drive here, he knew otherwise. He blinked frantically to clear his weary eyes.
“But, you counted on me…” Darcy still didn’t seem to be able to look at him.
Bill framed her face with his hands and tipped it upward again. As he looked down into her tired eyes, he could see the fatigue etched on her face. He could see the caring. “No, Darcy. You haven’t let me down. You did just what you were supposed to do. You were there. That’s what she needed. Just to have you there,” he said, his voice choking up. He figured it was best to shut up before he gave himself away.
And he couldn’t help wishing he could get down on his knees and beg for her to be there for him. Always. Not just until this was all over.
He knew from looking at the hospital setup with the tubes and monitors that he and Darcy wouldn’t have to fake a breakup. Momma would be gone—long before that.
Bill drew in a deep, long breath and figured he’d had enough time to compose himself. “Can I see her?”
“You can look through the glass,” Darcy said. “She’s sleeping now, and she needs her rest.”
A nurse came toward them from a room that looked like the cockpit of the space shuttle or, at least, command central with all the technology packed inside.
“You must be Mrs. Hays’s son,” the nurse said, her voice quiet, efficient, calming in an odd sort of way. She extended her hand and introduced herself.
Darcy stepped back, but hovered nearby as if she might be needed to help.
Bill nodded, noting that the woman did not let go of his hand. He liked that. It showed she cared. “What can you tell me about my mother’s condition?”
“She’s stable for now. She’ll probably go to a regular room in the morning,” the nurse said, squeezing his hand.
“And when can she go home?”
“That’s not up to me to say. Dr. Williamson will have to make that decision, but I’d bet it would be the first part of next week.” She let go of his hands and turned toward the cubicle where Bill’s mother slept.
“You can go in and sit with her, if you like. “I don’t know if she’ll wake, but something tells me she’ll know you’re here.” The nurse smiled, then turned back to her work station.
Bill turned to Darcy. She smiled and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go on,” she said softly. “Nettie needs you.”
“Don’t you want to come?” Was he such a coward that he couldn’t face his mother looking so tiny among all those machines without Darcy to hold his hand?
Darcy shook her head. “You go. She needs to know you’re here.” She turned toward the bank of chairs, then looked back over her shoulder. “Then I think we should both go home and try to get some sleep. Neither one of us is going to be much good to her if we’re too exhausted to think.”
Bill guessed she was right. And Momma was in good hands. He was beat, and it would be good to lie down in his own bed for a while. Even if it was only for a couple of hours.
Even if he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep a wink.
Drawing a deep breath, he stepped into the room and sat down on a metal chair beside the hospital bed. He found the frail hand encumbered by tubes and tape and stroked it with his own. “It’s all right, Momma. I’m here,” he whispered.
She stirred and her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. “I knew you’d come,” she murmured, her voice gravelly and weak. “Now, go home and get some rest. I’ll be here in the morning.”
Bill didn’t want to go. He held her hand, so papery white, so dry and brittle. He continued to stroke. He didn’t know what to do. He was so damned tired he could hardly see straight, but on the other hand he needed to be here.
His mother’s eyes fluttered again. “I told you…to go home…” she whispered. “Go on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bill could see clearly that his being here was making his mother even more agitated. And he knew she needed her rest. “All right, Momma,” he said as he leaned forward. He kissed her forehead and was rewarded wit
h the flicker of a smile, then he pushed to his feet.
It was time for him and Darcy to go home.
Home. He liked the sound of it. Not the place, but the thought that Darcy would be there.
Even if he would be sleeping alone in a bedroom down the hall, they would be together under the same roof.
Like the family they’d never get a chance to be.
DARCY AND BILL walked out through the emergency exit together, but Darcy stopped for a moment to breathe the cool, night air as Bill strode ahead. The darkness seemed so refreshing after the oppressive heat when she’d entered this place. Had it only been yesterday afternoon? She drew a long, deep breath, then started toward the car.
Strong hands caught her and Bill hauled her back. “Where are you going?” he growled.
She looked at him, confused. “To the car. Home. Where do you think?”
“With me,” he said in a tone so proprietary that it reverberated down to Darcy’s toes. “It’s late. You’re tired. I don’t want you driving all that way in that rattletrap.”
“Oh. But it was all right for your mother,” she responded archly.
“My mother didn’t have a choice. You do.”
In spite of her weariness, Darcy bristled. “I drove it here. Who are you to say that I can’t drive it back?”
Bill seemed to sag, his shoulders drooped. “Now don’t go Women’s Lib on me. I wasn’t doubting your abilities. It’s late. Let me drive. You can take the car home tomorrow.” Without giving her a chance to rebut his statement, he strode away as if he expected her to follow.
Darcy, her hands on her hips, watched him go. She appreciated the view, though she couldn’t say much for the sentiment that had preceded it. She wanted to argue, she really did, but she was so tired. And if Bill wanted to be macho and drive, it was okay by her.
This time.
Still, she wasn’t going to let him get away scot-free, she decided as she trotted after him.
“Like you didn’t drive all night to get here,” she challenged as she climbed into the Cherokee beside him.
He made a face. “I had a night jump scheduled,” he said tersely. “I slept in this morning. You probably got up before the rooster again.”
Sgt. Billy's Bride Page 11
