The Will to Love

by Lindsay McKenna

  He left, walking almost woodenly. The passageway was clogged with orderlies and nurses hurrying in and out of rooms where so many injured and sick people lay. Keeping near the wall, Quinn moved like a robot toward the nurses’ station where he asked the awaiting orderly to take Laura back to her room. Then he turned and headed to ICU, which was at the other end of the surgical floor. Kerry. He was going to see Kerry, finally….

  The nursing station at ICU was filled with quiet tension. A red-haired corpswave behind the desk pulled Kerry’s board off a hook.

  “It says here that you’re her fiancé, Lieutenant Grayson?” she asked, checking the second page of the document.

  “Yes…yes, I am.” It was a lie, but he wished it was true.

  “Okay, no problem. She’s in ICU 4. Just walk down there.” She pointed behind her. “You have five minutes. I’ll have to come and get you should you go over that time limit.” Giving him a harried look, she added, “How about I leave it up to you to know when your time is up? We’re busy, as you can see, so if you could…?”

  “Sure, no problem,” he promised her.

  “Great. Go ahead, sir.”

  Turning, Quinn hurried toward the passageway. There were four ICU rooms, each walled with glass so that the nursing staff could see at a glance how a patient was doing. Kerry’s room was on the right, the number 4 mounted in gold on the glass panel. Anxiously, he looked at her. She was propped up on a bed, with so many tubes running into her mouth, nose and arms that it scared him.

  Opening the door quietly, Quinn was hit with the powerful smell of antiseptic, so strong it made him nauseous. Standing there, he eyed all the equipment on either side of the bed where Kerry lay without moving. She was on complete life support, a machine pumping for her, to mimic her breathing. Every few seconds the light blue covering across Kerry’s breasts rose and fell.

  Swallowing hard, Quinn moved to her side. They had placed her arms over the covers, her hands at her sides. Reaching out, he slid his fingers beneath her right hand. How cool it felt! Anxiety filled him again.

  Kerry’s head was wrapped in white gauze. Her right temple, where the bullet had struck, was hidden beneath a dressing. How pale she looked! Moving closer, he stared down at her, grasping her hand more firmly and lifting it against his heart.

  “Kerry? It’s me, Quinn. I’m here, sweet pea. You’re okay. You’re going to make it. You hear me?” Gently, he grazed her wan cheek with his fingers. How dark her thick lashes looked against her flesh. She was warm and dry, but unmoving. Only the monitors beeping and clicking told him she was alive. A tube protruded from her open mouth, pumping oxygen systematically into her lungs. Quinn could barely stand it, seeing her like this.

  Keeping her limp fingers clasped protectively in his, he ran his other hand caressingly up and down her forearm. “Listen to me,” he said gruffly, “you’re going to get well. The doctor put you into a coma on purpose. The bullet hit you in the side of the head, Kerry. It broke the bone, but that was all. Your brain is okay, just a little swollen is all.” He could see where they had placed a dry-ice pack against that area to reduce any swelling. He knew that she was receiving steroids by IV to reduce the inflammation, as well.

  The beeps and sighs continued, steady and unabated.

  Closing his eyes, Quinn felt dizzy and scared. Even though they’d said that Kerry’s chances of surviving were good, anything could happen. A sudden blood clot could form. She could have a massive cerebral hemorrhage and die. Sometimes Quinn wished he didn’t know as much about emergency medical procedures as he did. In this case, his knowledge scared him. He knew the possibilities, and all of them were bad.

  Opening his eyes, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, which felt like soft peach fuzz. Kissing her gently, he lifted his head a little and whispered, “Kerry, I love you. Don’t ask me when or how it happened. But you being hurt like this, out of the blue, showed me the truth.” His fingers tightened again around her cool, limp hand. “Sweet pea, just know I’ll be here for you. Tomorrow, I don’t know what will happen. I’m going to go now…I gotta go sleep. When I wake, I’ll be back over here and we’ll talk some more, okay? Just know I love you. And I always will….”

  January 25: 1400

  The world was swirling in shades of dark and light before Kerry’s closed eyes. She felt herself whirling downward, growing heavier by the minute. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she struggled against the sensations. There were noises around her, and low voices, both male and female, nearby. Most of all, she could feel someone’s warm, strong hand around hers, and it was wonderfully stabilizing to her in this netherworld she floated in.

  “She’s becoming conscious,” Dr. Edmonds said, with a smile at Quinn, who stood on the other side of the bed, holding Kerry’s hand. “Excellent. We’ve stopped giving her drugs to keep her in a coma and she’s coming out right on schedule. This is a good sign.” Dr. Edmonds removed her stethoscope and placed it against Kerry’s blue-gowned chest.

  Quinn stood there, breath suspended momentarily. For seven days Kerry had been unconscious and on life support. He’d been out on duty in Area Five today when Morgan had sent for him, with news that Dr. Edmonds was going to awaken Kerry. The swelling in her brain was down. Everything looked good.

  Dr. Edmonds, a U.S. Navy first lieutenant, straightened up and smiled slightly. “She’s becoming conscious, Lieutenant Grayson. We’ll leave now, but if you need anything, Nurse Williams here will assist you,” she said, gesturing to the red-haired woman who stood beside her.

  “Thanks,” Quinn said sincerely. “For everything…”

  Dr. Edmonds grinned and pushed her short black hair off her broad forehead. “My pleasure, Lieutenant. Just stay with your lady. Keep talking to her. It will bring her out more quickly.”

  When they’d left, Quinn turned and faced Kerry. The tube in her mouth had been removed. She was breathing well on her own. There were still two IVs, one in each arm, going into her veins and supplying her with life-giving nutrients.

  “Sweet pea?”

  The words echoed through Kerry’s awakening senses. She knew that voice. And she knew that wonderful endearment. Quinn! Quinn was nearby. She heard the low, off-key tone close beside her. As she honed in on the sound, she could feel the soft tickle of his warm, moist breath against her ear.

  When the corners of Kerry’s mouth lifted slightly, Quinn’s heart soared with unchecked joy. He leaned down and pressed a tender, welcoming kiss against her lips. Her mouth was chapped, and cool to his touch.

  How much he’d missed Kerry! The last three days he’d been back in Area Five, preparing for the hunter-killer team that would be flown in shortly—a team whose sole focus would be to hunt down the Diablo and capture them once and for all.

  “Hey, sweet pea. I’m here. It’s Quinn. I’ve really missed you the last three days. I’ve been out in your neighborhood—Area Five. I brought back a whole bunch of handwritten notes from the folks who love you, Kerry. I’ve got them here with me. When you’re fully awake, I want you to read them. Those people really care about you. Every day I get radio reports from Morgan about you—how you’re doing and what’s happening. And everyone wants to know the latest. There’s a lotta people pullin’ for you, Kerry.” His voice wobbled. “Especially me…” He squeezed her hand tenderly.

  The brush of Quinn’s lips against hers was the most wonderful sensation Kerry had ever experienced. Moments later, his voice, deep and steady, filled with love for her, brought her completely out of her coma state. Despite Kerry’s fragmented senses, there was no question that Quinn loved her. She could feel it in the touch of his strong, warm hand around hers, in the butterfly kiss he’d brushed across her lips. She could hear it in his low voice.

  Holding his breath, Quinn saw Kerry’s lashes flutter once, twice, three times. As they slowly lifted, he saw the murky gray of her eyes as her gaze settled on him. The doctor had warned him that because of the drugs, she might be disoriented for a while,
but talking to her, giving her information, would help her focus and respond.

  Leaning down, he kissed her brow as it wrinkled slightly. “Welcome back, sweet pea. You’re here with me. And you’re safe. You’re going to live, Kerry. Everything’s gonna be fine. Believe me….” And he looked deeply into her eyes, no more than six inches away from his.

  Drowning in the blazing blue of his narrowed eyes, Kerry felt her heart speed up with joy. Seeing the suffering, the anxiety in Quinn’s face made her want to reach out and reassure him, but she was too weak to do that. Instead, she gave him a lopsided smile.

  “Hi, stranger…”

  “Hi…”

  “I’m okay….” Kerry whispered, and closed her eyes. It took all her energy just to try and pull two thoughts together, then speak them.

  “Yes, you are.” Quinn struggled with the crazy jumble of emotions tunneling through him. “I want to yell and scream and shout to the world that you’re okay,” he told her. “There’s so many people who have been praying for you, Kerry. Who want you to pull through. And you have.” Lifting her hand, Quinn gently turned it over in his and kissed the back of it. “You’re going to be fine.”

  His words were like healing balm to her spinning and slowly awakening senses. Kerry tried to close her fingers around his, but felt incredibly weak. Fragments of his words, of what he’d told her as she’d awakened, were floating loosely, like flotsam and jetsam in the ocean of her awareness.

  Just her effort to try and squeeze his hand brought tears to Quinn’s eyes. Gently touching her cheek, he stroked it with his fingertips. He could see her struggling to break the bonds of grogginess, to be here with him. “Easy, Kerry. Don’t try so hard. Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here while you become conscious. Okay? Don’t fight. Everything will slowly make sense to you over the next couple of hours, according to Dr. Edmonds.”

  Forcing her eyes open, she met his tender, burning look. Trying to speak, she found her voice was raspy from disuse. Her throat was sore and it hurt to talk.

  “You? You’re okay, Quinn? The shots? Diablo…”

  Seeing the fear in her eyes, Quinn realized she was recalling the firefight. “Shh, sweet pea, I’m okay. I wasn’t harmed. You were. You were shot twice. Once in the right thigh. The doc said it was just a flesh wound, and it’s healing well. The second bullet hit you in the right side of your head. It cracked your skull, but you’re going to be okay there, too. The doc said you’ll probably have one helluva headache. Do you?”

  She saw the care and concern in Quinn’s eyes—and the exhaustion. “Yes…My head…it’s killing me.”

  His response melted together. He was speaking too fast for her to grasp all the words. More than anything, she was relieved that he wasn’t wounded. As a matter of fact, Quinn looked wonderful to her. He was in a clean uniform, and had recently shaved. His dark hair was short and combed. Still, he looked worried. About her.

  “I’ll get the nurse in here to give you more pain meds through the IV,” he told her. Quinn started to leave, but her fingers tightened unexpectedly around his.

  “No…” Kerry whispered.

  Her cry tore at him. Halting instantly, he turned back to her, his hand strong and firm around hers. “I’m not going far,” he reassured her. “I’m just going to get the nurse, Kerry. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  When Quinn saw tears welling up in her eyes, it ripped him apart. Teardrops fell from the corners of her eyes, leaking down toward her ears. Reaching out, he wiped the moisture away with his thumbs.

  “Everything’s okay, sweet pea. Really, it is. It’s you I was worried about. The doc says you’re gonna be fine.”

  Unable to stop the tears, Kerry clung to his darkening features. Quinn was visibly upset over her crying, she saw, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “I—I just…” She choked and swallowed despite her painful throat. When Quinn’s warm hand settled against her cheek to give her solace, more tears fell.

  “What?” Quinn whispered, his mouth near her ear. “What’s wrong, Kerry?” He was alarmed, unsure of why she was crying. Was she in that much pain from her head wound? Or was it something else? Fear clawed at him. Was her health deteriorating?

  Opening her eyes, his face blurring before her, Kerry choked out in a raspy voice, “I lost Lee. I—I can’t…lose you….”

  Chapter Nine

  January 17: 0900

  Quinn couldn’t still his sense of urgency as he swung silently into the private room where they had placed Kerry late last night. She had rebounded remarkably, according to Dr. Edmonds, and they had desperately needed the ICU room for someone else in far worse shape than she was.

  The sun was shining brightly through the partially opened venetian blinds, leaving stripes of sunlight across Kerry’s bed.

  “Hi!” He smiled at her warmly as he eased the door closed. “I see you’re up, bright-eyed and bushy tailed.”

  Kerry managed a wan smile in return. She was sitting up, with several pillows supporting her back. The orderly had just left her a tray with breakfast. “Bushy tailed?” she teased, her voice still raspy. Kerry had found out that the tube they’d put down her windpipe to help her breathe was the reason for the irritation in her throat. She was glad the tube was gone. Heart lifting, she smiled more widely. The entire room seemed to change, became lighter, and she felt happiness threading through her as he ambled toward her.

  “Yeah, an old hill sayin’,” he murmured. “It means you’re looking real fine. Healthy.”

  “Mmm,” Kerry said, “I’m better because you came to visit me.”

  Halting at her bedside, he eyed the tray resting on the moveable table across her lap. “I’m a sight for sore eyes, eh? Umm, breakfast. That’s good. You need to eat and put a little meat on those bones.” His mouth hitched upward.

  The blue cotton gown was shapeless and hung on Kerry. Her hair was still hidden by the gauze wrapped around her head. But to him, she looked beautiful. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he saw some of the old life, those silver flecks, coming back into them.

  Wrinkling her nose, Kerry offered him a slice of whole wheat bread that had already been buttered. “Want to share it with me?” As their fingers touched, she saw his blue eyes grow stormy with desire—for her.

  “Thanks,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting down facing her, his right leg resting against the tubular frame of her bed. It was 0800—the earliest Quinn was allowed, by hospital rules, to visit. He’d gotten up early, shaved, showered and put on a pair of fresh cammos. No more would he take such mundane acts for granted. Being out in Area Five without water to shave or shower with had taught him that.

  Kerry stirred the fork around in the fluffy scrambled eggs. She wasn’t really hungry, but knew she had to eat.

  “A sight for sore eyes,” she said, giving him a glance. “That must be another hill saying?”

  “Sure is. We have a whole other language in Kentucky.”

  Just being with Quinn was energizing for Kerry. She ate the eggs slowly and with relish. They actually tasted good. “I like all your expressions,” she told him.

  Munching on the toast, Quinn eyed Kerry closely. He didn’t miss anything about her recovery. They’d already taken out one IV. She was on solid food. All those were good signs. “Stick around me,” he teased, “and I’ll teach you more.” He wondered if she recalled what she’d said three days ago as she became conscious—about not wanting to lose him as she’d lost her husband. What did that mean? Quinn was afraid to read too much into it. Sometimes people with head injuries said a lot of things they either didn’t recall later or didn’t mean. Her words had meant the world to him, but the two of them barely knew each other. Their time together had been short and intense, but his heart didn’t care. It wasn’t at all reasonable when it came to Kerry.

  “Is that a promise?” she whispered, setting the fork aside. How handsome Quinn looked. She could clearly see the desire, the care for her, in his
eyes. Just the tenderness of his rough voice, the intimate tone he used with her, spoke volumes. Her heart skittered as he looked at her.

  “Do you want it to be, Kerry?”

  Unable to tear her gaze from his, she replied softly, “Yes…” And then she opened her hands in a helpless gesture. “I know we haven’t known one another long, Quinn….”

  Nodding, he set the piece of toast back on her tray. “Not long, but it’s been pretty intense,” he answered.

  Touching her head carefully, Kerry said, “I’ve got a roaring headache, so I’m not going to be the best of company.”

  “Want me to get the nurse? Do you need a stronger pain med?” He was already halfway out of his chair.

  “No…it comes and goes.” Managing a slight smile, Kerry admitted, “When my heart starts beating hard and I get scared, my blood pressure rises and that’s when the pain comes on. Dr. Edmonds told me that would happen at first. With time, as the bone mends, it will go away.”

  “So, you need to do things to keep your blood pressure down?” Her eyes were hauntingly beautiful to Quinn, so full of life. Right now, he was scared and tentative. Did Kerry want the same thing he did? He wasn’t sure, and he was too much of a coward to ask. As a marine, he might be able to storm a rampart, but when it came to this, he felt frozen by the fear of possible rejection. He watched Kerry’s mobile face, so open and readable.

  “Life raises my blood pressure,” she told him wryly, pushing the tray aside.

  “You look worried. What’s bothering you, Kerry?”

  Quirking her mouth, she stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I worry about Petula. Have you heard from her? From Sylvia? Are you in touch with them?”

  “Yeah, they’re both okay. I was in radio contact with Beau late last night, checking in with them to make sure everything was okay. They both miss you. Petula is getting regular MREs now, and so is Sylvia. They love the tent. The heat.” He smiled. Just seeing the anxiety leave Kerry’s eyes made him feel better.