Название | The Heart's Choice |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Joyce Livingston |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Love Inspired |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408965085 |
“There! See! She did it again.”
“You’re right! Get the doctor. Hurry!”
Tavia drew back as the light flooded in, bathing her like a refreshing wave of ocean water. She’d made it! She’d reached the top! Now, if she could just hold on. But she was tired, so tired. She needed to sleep. To sleep.
“Can you hear me?”
Startled, Tavia pulled herself up to the rim again, holding on tightly as she strained toward the man’s voice. I hear you. Throat hurts. Why can’t I swallow?
“Come on, young lady. Open your eyes. I’m Dr. Stevens. I’m here to help you.”
Dr. Stevens? Am I in a hospital? Why? Pictures, like a slide show on a screen, flashed through her mind, each lasting only a split second. A truck. The sound of a loud horn.
“Come on, try to open your eyes. Come back to us.”
“Shall I get her family?” the woman’s voice asked.
“Not yet. Let’s be sure first. We don’t want to disappoint them.”
I don’t have a family.
“We need you to open your eyes wide. Can you do that for me?”
I’m trying! I’m trying!
“Atta girl! Come on.”
It’s—it’s so hard.
Someone touched her arm. Now she had something to hold on to. Something to keep her from slipping back into that abyss. Move! Blink! Let them know you hear them!
“She moved her good arm, Doctor!”
The excitement in the woman’s voice made Tavia want to shout. Finally, someone was helping her out of the pit.
“Can you move your arm again?”
An excruciating pain shot through her as Tavia pressed her eyelids together and lifted with all her might. She wanted to cry out.
“Oh, Doctor, she did it, and I saw her eyelids move again.”
The woman sounded almost as excited as Tavia felt. I’ve got to open my eyes. I’ve got to!
“Close the blinds,” the man’s voice ordered. “It’s too bright in here. The sun is shining right in her face.”
Tavia heard the swish of the blinds closing.
“Open those eyes,” a kindly voice said through the fog still swirling around her.
Slowly, Tavia opened them, peering through her lashes at first, then wider. Why wouldn’t her right eye open as easily as her left? A man stood close to her, giving her a pleasant smile.
“Ah, much better.” The man’s smile broadened. “Your family will be glad to see you’re back with us again. You’re in Boulder Community Hospital. We airlifted you here.”
Tavia flinched at the word family. I don’t have a family. There must be some mistake.
“I finally talked them into going to the cafeteria to have breakfast, but they should be back soon,” the doctor said, still smiling at her. “I need to check those beautiful eyes. Let’s see how they react to light.”
He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at her face. Tavia blinked as he moved it from one side to the other. She’d been in the darkness for such a long time and the light was so bright.
Finally, he turned the light off and slipped it back in his pocket. “Looking good!”
“Oh, you’re awake!” said a female voice.
Tavia squinted up into the smiling face of an attractive, if frail-looking, woman, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, so unexpected was her entry.
“We were so worried.” There was a man standing by the woman’s side and he patted Tavia’s shoulder. “You don’t know how happy this makes us.”
“You’ve come back to us.” The woman, her eyes filled with tears, lifted her hair to one side and bent to place a kiss on Tavia’s cheek. “I can hardly wait to tell Grandpa. He’s been praying for you, too.”
Why would these people pray for me? Are they some do-gooders from a local church? Do they have the wrong room? And who is Grandpa?
The man’s face took on a serious cast. “How is she, Dr. Stevens?”
“I’d say considering her injuries, she’s doing quite well. Her vitals are decent, but with the kind of trauma she’s been through, we’ll continue to intubate her and ventilate her until she’s completely stable. Maybe only a day or so. Now that she’s come around she’ll be in quite a bit of pain with those broken ribs and her fractured arm, but we can deal with that. She’s bound to be a bit disoriented at times,” he went on, “but that should go away in a few days. If she keeps responding as she is now, I should be able to take that tube out by tomorrow or the next day.”
The man released a heavy sigh. “You have no idea how glad we are to hear this.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to visit with her. I have other patients to see.”
The couple gave the doctor wide smiles, though the woman kept dabbing at her eyes with a hanky. She looked as if she’d been crying for days. “I’m so happy to see your lovely eyes. I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“Now, Annie—” The man wrapped his arms about the woman and held her close. “Don’t even think that way. God answered our prayers and brought her back to us.”
Tavia’s gaze flitted from one to the other and back again. What about Adam? What about Jewel? Did that nice couple send you here to cheer me up? Yes, that must be it. Adam and Jewel asked you to come.
The woman began to weep hysterically. “Oh, James, what if she hadn’t—”
“But she did make it, Annie.” Tears rolled down the man’s cheeks as he spoke. “We have to take comfort in her survival.”
Though she didn’t know them, their tears made Tavia want to cry, too, at the deep, horrible pain evident in their voices. But why?
The man gave Tavia a look of concern. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.” He cupped his hand gently about her shoulder. “We’ll go now and let you get some rest, but we’ll be back in a few hours.”
Annie rubbed her tears away with her fingertips before bending to kiss Tavia’s cheek again. “I hate to leave you.”
James grabbed on to his wife’s hand, tugging her away. “She needs her rest, Annie, and so do you.”
“I know, but—”
He motioned her toward the door. “We’ll come back later, I promise.”
Annie blew her a kiss as the pair backed out of the hospital room, leaving Tavia with puzzled thoughts and unanswered questions. Did these people have her mixed up with someone else? Surely, they could tell she wasn’t someone they knew. It was all so confusing.
The darkness. The tunnel. The hospital room. A couple who said they loved her and prayed for her. None of it made any sense. The room began to spin again, making her dizzy. The constant beep, beep, beep of the machines was grating on her nerves.
“Hi.”
Slightly turning her head, she peered into the face of yet another stranger. A man in a wheelchair, with a bandage on his head and a small vase of white daisies balanced between his knees.
“They said you were awake. I’ve been so worried about you.” He placed the vase on the nightstand. “I brought these for