Adam's Promise Page 5

  “No. But his vital signs are good.”

  Mrs. Montgomery’s face sagged with disappointment.

  “His breathing has improved,” Kate added, hoping to cheer her. “I’m guessing they’ll take the chest tube out soon.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Liza said. “What were the results of his EEG?”

  “Adam’s not back yet. I expect we’ll hear something soon. The doctor usually stops by once he’s read the test results.”

  Liza dropped her bag on an empty seat and wrung her hands. “This waiting is so stressful.”

  “It is.” Kate massaged the tension in her neck, then scooted deeper into the cushion, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She’d fought sleep all night, and now it seemed to overtake her.

  “I wonder if he’s back and they…”

  Kate pulled herself upward and opened her eyes.

  Liza regarded her face. “I’m sorry, dear. You look so tired, and I disturbed you. I apologize.”

  “No need. I was just resting my eyes.”

  “I feel so badly you couldn’t sleep last night. Was the bed uncomfortable? I know it’s difficult to sleep when—”

  “It wasn’t the bed. That felt wonderful. I was just too wound up. I’ll sleep better tonight.”

  “I hope so,” Liza said, sinking in the chair beside Kate. “It’s so kind of you to stay here day in and day out like this…for Adam.”

  Her words charged up Kate’s back. “We were close in Venezuela…working together constantly. I can’t help but be concerned.”

  “I understand,” Liza said. “You’re a kindhearted young woman.”

  “Thank you,” Kate said, not knowing how to respond since her motivation was selfish.

  Kate’s gaze drifted toward the door, and a doctor stepped into the room. He gave her a nod and headed their way.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?”

  Kate struggled to keep from rising. Liza stood and joined her husband.

  “Yes,” Frank said.

  “The EEG shows no permanent damage. We’ll continue with analgesics for pain and keep an eye on him. I noted some extensive swelling, but hopefully that will subside and he’ll regain consciousness soon.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Liza asked.

  “Brain stimulation. Talk to him. Patients can often hear. They just can’t respond.”

  Liza nodded. “I’ll feel better once I see him this morning.”

  “He should be back in his room now if you’d like to check. Once they remove the chest tube, he’ll be going up to the surgical floor later today.”

  “That’s great news,” Frank said.

  The physician agreed, then departed.

  Liza turned to Kate. “We’ll go in for a few minutes.”

  “You go ahead.”

  His mother clasped her bag, then took her husband’s arm and headed toward the exit.

  Kate watched them leave. She’d tried to keep her attitude hopeful, but she wasn’t as optimistic as the physician. Adam had been unconscious too long.

  She’d worked with concussion patients before, but Adam’s injury seemed worse. The corner of the cabinet impacted his head above the temple. Wounds like that could cause diffuse axonal injury that resulted in disrupting the neural connections. Time could regenerate the damage, but Adam could be left with significant impairment. The possibility crushed Kate’s hopes.

  Pushing herself from the chair, she rose and left the waiting room. She took the elevator to the second floor where she found the chapel empty. She stood at the back, struck by the dramatic stained-glass window at the front. Brightened by sunlight, its colors spread out along the beige carpet, leaving it dappled with red, blue, purple and green.

  Kate sank into the last pew and closed her eyes. She needed God’s help—safety for Adam and guidance for her own upside-down world. Wrapped in a moment of silence, she spoke to God, the way she’d done since childhood. Somehow the Lord came through whenever she needed Him the most.

  Her prayer centered around Adam, asking God to heal him and return him to good health, unaffected by the horrible wounds he’d received. She prayed for the Lord’s loving guidance to provide her life a new direction. Though she longed to return to Venezuela, she knew God was in charge. Perhaps He had something different in mind to give her life purpose. She would accept the Lord’s will as she’d always done.

  Opening her eyes, Kate was gripped by the vivid window in front of her—not the colors, but the scene of Jesus healing the sick. His hands lay on the eyes of a blind man who knelt before him. Nearby, another man stood with his weight supported by crutches. The look on the men’s faces awed Kate, seeing the hope and trust of those who were ill who waited for healing.

  Kate carried the thought into her life. Did she have that kind of hope and trust? Today she worried about her future and what she would do about a place to stay until things were sorted out. She stopped herself in midthought. The Lord had sustained her through a difficult childhood. She felt confident God would not let her down.

  Feeling uplifted by the depiction on the stained glass and by her prayer, Kate rose and stepped into the corridor. She needed to speak to the nursing director. She didn’t want to put it off any longer. Her destiny lay on the outcome of her superior’s decisions.

  Kate’s footsteps tapped along the tile floor as she returned to the elevator and traveled upward to the administration floor. Hopefully today, she’d know her immediate plans, anyway.

  Chapter Five

  When Kate returned to the waiting room, Liza and Frank weren’t there, but Frank’s jacket and newspaper still lay on the chair, and Kate assumed the couple was with Adam. She sank into the seat, grabbed a magazine and flipped through the pages, but her mind was miles away, pleased she’d at least resolved what the hospital had planned for her. She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. Weariness had overcome her again, but her rest was short.

  “His coloring looks better,” Liza said, triggering Kate to open her eyes.

  “I thought so, too,” Kate said.

  “They sent us out because they’re going to remove the chest tube now.” Liza moved her tote bag and sank beside Kate.

  “That’s wonderful news.” Kate felt her heart lurch. “Then he’ll go up to the surgical floor. That’s so much better.”

  “It will be.” Liza rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned her cheek against her fist. “I’m having a terrible time seeing Adam this way. He’s always been so intense, so in charge. Now he’s so quiet and—”

  “He’ll be himself once he wakes,” Frank said, settling in the seat beside his wife. He rested the Colorado Springs Sentinel in his lap.

  Liza opened her fist and massaged her cheek with her palm. “I remember when Adam was a little boy he always had his nose in a book or his eye over a microscope. When they were children, Jake and Colleen always complained about Adam while they played hide-and-seek. He would vanish into the thicket and, instead of playing the game, would study the striations in tree bark or analyze the insects. He’s always been like that. So aware of everything.”

  Kate understood what Liza meant. Adam was intense. He didn’t let a thing pass that he didn’t analyze or demand a solid answer for. “I’m sure seeing him this way has been difficult.”

  Frank kneaded the back of his neck. “You know, I’m proud of my son and I’ve always tried to respect what he wanted to do with his life, especially if he was serving others, but…Venezuela. I wasn’t happy about that.”

  Liza shifted and rested her hand on Frank’s arm. “We always support our children, but Frank and I were concerned about Adam’s decision. I wish he could be more like other men his age—happily married with a family. We’ve encouraged him to date. Jake and Colleen are as bad about settling down. I just wish—”

  “Liza, stop your perpetual matchmaking,” Frank said, lifting the newspaper and using it as a pointer. “Our children are adults and can fin
d their own mates and make their own decisions without your help.” He gave Kate a frustrated look and shook his head.

  Liza’s shoulders drew up with her decisive rebuttal. “Maybe they can find their own mates, Frank, but they haven’t yet. None of them. I’d like grandchildren before I’m in my grave.”

  Frank lowered the newspaper and coiled it into a cylinder. “You’ll be sending us all to our graves with your incessant prattle about it.”

  Her shoulders drooped as if his comment had let the air out of her.

  Kate began to think she should leave and let them argue privately. She guessed the disagreement was an old one. The Montgomerys quieted and Kate’s thoughts returned to Adam. Would he be back from the procedure yet? “I was thinking that—”

  “Look at this. It makes me sick.” Frank interrupted, poking at the first page of the newspaper. “Big fight at the Longhorn Saloon. Drinking. Drugs. They arrested sixteen.”

  Liza gave Kate an apologetic look. “Frank, Kate was talking.”

  Frank lowered the paper and opened his mouth as if to apologize.

  “No, please,” Kate said, flagging her hand. “Problems like that are stressful.”

  Liza settled back while Frank continued. “We’ve had more drug arrests over the past few months. I see seedy gangs hanging around the streets…but they’re not doing anything illegal. The cops can’t arrest them for standing there.”

  “The city needs better loitering laws,” Liza said.

  Frank gave a harumph. “You try to stop them from loitering, you get freedom of assembly complaints.”

  “I think we should let the police department handle it, dear.” Liza crossed her legs and shifted her focus to Kate. “Did you speak to the nursing director yet?”

  Kate noticed Liza’s ploy to change the subject. It worked, and Frank returned to his reading.

  Kate straightened her back. “The director suggested I take a week to rest with pay and pull myself together after the incident.”

  “That was a very considerate offer,” Liza said.

  “Yes, it was. Looks like a week from next Monday my life should get back to normal. I’ll go back on my regular shift.”

  “Which is that?” Liza gave her a questioning look.

  “I work the late shift on the surgical floor,” Kate said.

  “The late shift.” Liza’s face brightened. “I imagine you feel better knowing things are settled.”

  “Settled for now,” Kate said. “They’d like me to go back to Venezuela—if I’m willing—once the situation’s been resolved. I’ll have to make that decision one day, but for now, I’m trying to stop my head from reeling.” Kate gave Adam’s mother a halfhearted smile. “The only decision I must make now is finding a place to stay.”

  Liza lowered her head a moment, then turned to her husband. “Frank.”

  His mind must have been preoccupied because he jumped to attention. “What is it?”

  “What do you think if we give Kate the extra key to Adam’s town house?”

  “Adam’s place?” His bushy eyebrows lowered into a frown.

  Liza pressed her hands together. “It’s just sitting there, and I doubt if Adam will need it for another week or so. What do you think, Frank?”

  His brows lifted as he shrugged one shoulder. “I see no problem. Tonight we’ll find the key.”

  “There, dear, you can stay in Adam’s town house. It’s very nice. Then you can find something more permanent at your leisure.”

  “Thank you so much…if it won’t be an inconvenience.”

  “How could it be?” Liza gave Kate’s arm a pat.

  Their generosity overwhelmed her, and Kate covered a grin at the matter-of-fact way they’d solved her problem.

  Frank rose and stretched. “They suggested we go home for a while and come back later. What do you say?”

  “I think we could all use some rest,” Liza said. “Especially you, Kate. Would you like to go back with us and try to rest awhile?”

  Kate didn’t want to leave, but her weary body and blurry eyes helped her face facts. “I think I’ll go in to see Adam a minute if you don’t mind, and then I will go back with you for a while.”

  “That’s fine, dear. Take your time.”

  Kate rose and hurried from the room. She said a silent thank-you for Adam’s parents who’d opened their hearts and their door to her. God always had a way of resolving issues before she had time to worry about them.

  Following a good night’s sleep, Kate returned to the hospital. This time she brought a paperback, but her mind fluttered over the words like leaves from a tree, her thoughts spiraling and tossing on an uneasy breeze. Though fear still weighted her hope, she felt better seeing Adam out of the ICU and on the surgical floor—her wing when she returned to work.

  Time dragged, but she’d been miserable sitting alone at the Montgomerys’ while her thoughts had been here, in his room.

  Voices drifted in from the corridor, and Kate looked toward the doorway. Expecting to see a nurse, she was surprised when Colleen sailed in.

  “Hi,” Colleen said, a welcoming smile lighting her face.

  “He’s about the same,” Kate said, hoping her comment sounded casual. Colleen’s expression asked questions. Why was Kate here so often? What was going on between her and Adam? She felt the queries without hearing the words.

  “I’d hoped he might be awake,” Colleen said, dropping a tote bag on the floor and leaning over the bed. “Hey, you. Wake up.”

  She ran her slender fingers through her scruffy mane and sank into the chair by the bed. “Adam. It’s Colleen. Open your eyes.” She waited, then glanced at Kate and gave her a disappointed look.

  “It’s discouraging,” Kate said, feeling very disheartened herself.

  Silence hung in the air and Kate searched for something to talk about. “Your mom mentioned you work for the Colorado Springs Sentinel. Sounds like an interesting job.”

  Colleen swiveled in her chair to face Kate. “It can be. In fact, this next story—if my editor approves—might really be interesting.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Sam Vance—have you met him?”

  “No. Who is he?”

  “He’s a detective and one of Adam’s old friends. Anyway, he called and suggested a story idea…and I like it. A feature on women affected by spouses involved in misdemeanors—fights, drugs and especially domestic violence. Sam thought it would help raise awareness on the rising crime rate and its effect on families in the city. I think it’s a great idea. Don’t you?”

  “Sure,” Kate said. “Any time you make the community aware of a problem it helps everyone.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Colleen said. She gestured to her tote bag. “I have a list of the men arrested last night in the fight at the Longhorn Saloon and men involved in domestic violence in the past months. I’m thinking women will talk to a reporter faster than they will the police.”

  “I think you’re right,” Kate said.

  Colleen’s eyes twinkled. “Hopefully, I’ll get what Sam wants and a good story on top of it. I’ll need statistics, too. I might get something from the Galilee Women’s Shelter although they’re pretty closemouthed.”

  “They have to be to protect the families there.”

  Colleen gave a toss of her head. “I know, but my mother works with Jessica Mathers. She’s the development director of the shelter. She works on fund-raisers and project development. That might give me an in.”

  She glanced at her watch and rose. “I suppose I’d better get back to the paper.” She leaned over her brother again and called his name, but Adam didn’t budge.

  “Disappointing,” Colleen said, then shrugged. “Hopefully next time. He has to wake up sometime. I have to tell him I love him…just in case he doesn’t know.” She dipped down, kissed Adam’s cheek and grabbed her tote. “See you soon. By the way, Dad found the keys. I’ll help you move to Adam’s when I can grab a minute.”

  “Grea
t,” Kate said, watching her hustle from the room. “Thanks.”

  Everyone needed Adam to wake for their own reasons—Colleen, to say “I love you,” and Kate…to only think it.

  The police were anxious, too. Kate’s back stiffened at the memory of the police hovering over Adam while he struggled for life. She’d seen it in movies—cops interrogating a dying man—but this wasn’t make-believe. This was real, and Adam deserved better.

  The late-afternoon sun streamed through the window, warming her back and taking away the chill that had settled over her when she’d begun to feel so cynical. Why did she insist on thinking the worst? So often she asked the Lord for help and then focused on the worst scenario possible.

  Lord, keep me uplifted, she thought as she fingered the novel’s pages while her focus settled on Adam’s face.

  Startled, she caught her breath.

  His eyelashes flickered once.

  Again.

  Had it been real?

  She rose and leaned above him. “Adam. Wake up.” She waited a moment, then shook his arm. “Adam.”

  Nothing. No response.

  Had it been only her imagination?

  Disappointed, she returned to her chair. An unexpected chill rippled down her arms, even though the sun licked at the windows.

  A sound.

  She stopped breathing.

  A groan.

  She rose again and tiptoed across the room, afraid she’d been wrong while praying she’d been right.

  Silence again.

  Adam wrestled in the darkness. The dank pit held the stench of cold, sulphured ash. For a moment he saw light above him, a ray of hope, but the brightness faded and fear covered him like a mucky river, dragging him into its acrid depths. Fear captured his breath while he smothered in a wave of horror.

  He sensed it. Kate. She needed him. He heard her calling his name over and over. He’d struggled to rise from the abyss. His arms flailed and his broken nails dug into the crumbling earth.

  Something malevolent surrounded him. His muscles knotted with anguish seeing Kate ahead of him in the murky haze, pursued by the evil one. He stretched his hand forward, but she soared from his grasp, flying closer to the black shrouded one.