Angel's Rest

chapter THIRTEEN





Sage grabbed her coat and rushed for the door, shoving her arms into the sleeves even as she sent up a prayer. When she was halfway across the street she saw blood staining the snow, and instantly she froze. In that instant, she was back in stifling heat on a dusty dirt road.

Bullets whizzed past her head. Clouds of flies buzzed around her. Slick, sticky blood coated her hands, her arms, even her face where the spray had splashed it.

The gun swung in her direction.

“Nic? Nicole?” The sound of Celeste’s voice jerked her back to reality. “Dear Lord, we need a doctor. Sage, help!”

Sage shuddered. Her knees felt like butter. She had the weight of Murphy Mountain on her chest. Nic is your friend. You have to help.

She forced herself forward as Celeste pulled the bike off Nic, then knelt in the snow beside her. “Nic? Nicole?” The older woman placed a hand at Nic’s neck. “She has a pulse, thank God. Nic? Nicole?”

Seconds ticked by. Another minute. Too long.

As Sage drew near, Nic’s eyes fluttered and she moaned.

Bob Carson rushed from the bank, a first-aid kit in hand. LaNelle Harrison flew out of the quilt shop, asking, “Is she all right?”

Celeste repeated, “Nic?”

Sage stood just beyond the circle, her hands clasped in a white-knuckled grip. She willed herself to go forward, but her feet remained cemented in place even when Nic’s pain-glazed eyes opened and she rolled onto her side and threw up.

Celeste asked, “Where do you hurt, honey?”

“Ohhh,” she moaned. She rolled back onto her back and closed her eyes.

“Nic? Nic!”

She isn’t tracking.

“Where is the blood coming from?” the banker asked, setting the first-aid kit on the ground.

“Looks like she has a gash on her leg.”

Bob Carson said, “Let’s get her inside and we can tend to her out of the cold.”

“I don’t know,” LaNelle responded. “Maybe we shouldn’t move her.”

Nic’s eyes fluttered open again and she struggled to sit up, grimacing in pain. “Oh, that hurts.”

“What hurts, dear?” Celeste asked.

“My whole leg.”

“We need to get her to a hospital. Can someone call Alton Davis to drive the ambulance?”

That finally propelled Sage out of her stupor. “No!”

She strode the last few steps forward and all but pushed the banker out of the way, then knelt beside Nic. “Call for CareFlight.”

Celeste met her gaze with a wide-eyed look. “The baby?”

“I’m not as worried about the baby as I am about Nic. She was out for a couple of minutes. Nauseated. We need to make sure she doesn’t have a blunt force trauma injury, and time is of the essence.” Glancing up at Celeste, she said, “Will you make the call?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll do it,” Bob Carson offered. “I have the number posted in my office.”

While Bob hurried off, Sage first checked Nic’s head for a lump and was glad to find a large goose egg. Better that it swelled outwardly rather than inwardly. She studied her friend’s eyes and was gratified to see the pupils react to light. Next, with methodical, practiced motions, she went to work on the bloody injury on Nic’s left leg. Using the scissors from the first-aid kit, she sliced open the bloody pant leg, revealing a deep gash and a swollen knee and ankle. Sage winced. The cut would need stitches.

Nic groaned, then a moment later, exclaimed in a panicked tone. “The baby!”

She’s thinking again. That’s good. “Any cramping?”

Nic moved a hand to cover her stomach. “No.”

“I saw you fall, honey. Watched you hit. The baby should be fine. How’s your head? Pain? Throbbing?”

“Yeah.” She lifted a fearful but clear gaze toward Sage. “You really think the baby’s okay?”

“I do.” With practiced movements, Sage cleaned the cut. “This needs stitches, Nic.”

Nic’s voice emerged thready and weak. “Great. Get LaNelle to do it. Her stitches are prettier than mine.”

“I think it can wait until you reach Gunnison.” Sage wrapped gauze around her friend’s leg and covered it with a pressure bandage.

“You’re very good at that, Sage,” Celeste observed. “Maybe you can fill in for Nic at the clinic.”

Not hardly. “No way. My Girl Scout nursing badge only takes me so far. Besides, I heard about that wounded ram Nic treated yesterday. She’s crazy.”

“I’m freezing.” Nic shuddered, and her teeth began to chatter. “My pants are soaked through. Can you help me stand up?”

LaNelle asked, “I could bring my car around, get her out of the cold. We need to transport her to the helipad, anyway.”

“Thanks, LaNelle,” Sage said, tugging off her own coat and wrapping it around her friend. “That’d be great.”

When it was just the two of them, Sage asked, “Still no cramps, honey?”

“No.” Nic’s teeth tugged at her lower lip. “She’s okay, don’t you think? She has to be okay.”

“She’s small yet. You didn’t hit your tummy. I don’t think you need to worry. Besides, any child of yours is bound to be strong.”

“That’s a nice thing for you to say.” Nic tried to smile, but it appeared more like a grimace. “I don’t feel good.”

“Your head? Are you nauseated?”

“My leg.”

It wasn’t the leg that worried her. With that thought in mind, she reached for Nic’s purse. “You still carry a pen and notepad in here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to write a note for the ER doctor. I want to make sure he takes good care of you. Do you want us to let Gabe know what happened?”

“Yes. Thanks, Sage. You’re a good friend.”

No. Actually, she wasn’t. A good friend wouldn’t have stood back and left her bleeding in the street, untreated.

Not when once upon a time, said friend had been a surgeon.


Gabe Callahan hated hospitals. He hated the smell of them, the sounds in them, the physical and emotional pain that filled them from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. As he parked his car and rushed inside the medical facility in Gunnison, he said a silent prayer that this particular hospital visit would be as short as Sage had promised it would be when he arrived at Eagle’s Way and found her sitting on the front porch, a tote bag at her side.

From there, it had been a mad dash on the twisting, turning mountain road. Two hours in which to worry, remember, and brood.

“Nicole Sullivan?” he asked the middle-aged woman wearing a volunteer badge seated at the front desk.

She frowned. “I’m sorry. We don’t have a patient named Sullivan.”

“What? You … oh …” He silently cursed his stupidity. “Callahan. Nic Callahan. She arrived on CareFlight from Eternity Springs.”

“Ah.” She pointed down the hallway to the right. “She’s in room twelve.”

Gabe nodded his thanks, then strode down the hall toward Nic’s room. The door was partially open. He peeked inside and saw her reclining in bed, wearing a hospital gown and flipping through a magazine. He rapped on the door with his knuckles. “Hey there, pretty lady. Hear you had a hard landing.”

“Gabe!” Nic’s expression brightened, then she offered him a rueful grin. “I get this month’s clumsy award.”

He strode into the room and gave her a thorough once over. He could tell by her eyes that she was tired and in pain, and he hurt for her. Taking a seat in the chair beside the bed, he took her hand in his. His tone serious now, he asked, “How are you, Nic?”

She thumbed the control on her bed and raised herself to a seated position. “I’m okay. Nothing is broken. Knee and ankle are both sprained, ankle worse than the knee. I didn’t jar my tummy.”

“Sage said you had a concussion.”

“Yeah. I got a lecture in the ER about the danger of neglecting blows to the head, but everything checked out okay. They want to keep me for another hour for observation, but then I can go home. Can I hitch a ride with you?”

“Absolutely.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then released it and sat back. “Sage described what happened. You’re lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”

“I know. I was scared about the pregnancy there for a while. Believe me, I’m going to be much more careful from now on. Especially since I’m going to be on crutches for a few weeks.” She closed the magazine she’d been reading, and set it on the bed tray. “Now, tell me what’s up with you. How is Will?”

Gabe drew a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. He’d been so consumed with worry that it took him a moment to adjust to the change of subject. “First, are you telling me everything? Is there anything we need to be concerned about?”

He tensed when she hesitated before saying, “You know about all my injuries. I promise. I’ll be just fine in a few weeks. Now, tell me about your brother-in-law.”

Hmm. Why did he think she wasn’t telling him everything? Unwilling to press the point right now, he responded to her request. “Better. Much better. This has been a wake-up call for him. He’s always been a workaholic, but this scared him enough to make some lifestyle changes.”

A rap on the door caused them both to look up. A woman wearing a lab coat entered the room saying, “Nic, I have those photos you requested.”

Gabe didn’t miss the nervous glance Nic shot him before saying, “Thanks, Liz. Gabe, this is my obstetrician, Dr. Elizabeth Marshall. Liz, my husband, Gabe Callahan.”

“Nice to meet you,” the doctor said, shaking his hand. Handing Nic the photos, she added, “I know this was a scare for you today, but your wife and babies are doing just fine.”

From the corner of his eye, Gabe saw Nic grimace. Why would she … His heart began to pound and his eyes flew open wide. “Excuse me? Did you just say …?”

The doctor pursed her lips in dismay. Looking at Nic, she asked, “Did I speak out of turn?”

“He just got here a few minutes ago.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “Nic?”

She tried to smile, but it was a sickly effort at best. “I had a sonogram today.” She held up the pictures. “Gabe, we’re having twins.”

He exhaled as if she’d punched him in the gut and closed his eyes. Twins. He dropped his chin to his chest. Twins. He leaned over, propped his elbows on his knees, and cradled his head in his hands. Twins.

His stomach rolled and his skin grew clammy. Without saying a word to the women, he rose and walked into the room’s bathroom, where he turned on the cold water, leaned over, and splashed his face for a full minute. Then he shut off the water, gave his head a shake, and looked up, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He was as white as the snow atop Sinner’s Prayer Pass. “Twins,” he murmured.

“You’re not going to faint, are you, Mr. Callahan?” Dr. Marshall asked from the doorway. “We don’t want you to bang your head today, too.”

“I’m fine,” he lied, grabbing a white hand towel off a towel bar and wiping his face. He replaced the towel, took a bracing breath, and exited the bathroom.

Nic watched him with an anxious expression, her hands clasped and resting protectively over her stomach. Was she worried he’d be upset? Angry? Maybe he would get angry later—at fate, not at Nic—but right now he was too numb for that.

Twins. Double the risk. Double the responsibility.

Double the potential loss.

Great. Just great.

He addressed the obstetrician. “Do you have any special instructions for Nic I should know about? Any limits to her activities?”

“Only those dictated by common sense. She’s now classified by my office as a high-risk pregnancy, but don’t let that worry you. It’s the norm for all my moms carrying multiples, and it means we’ll follow her a little more closely, see her more often, do a few more tests. You can probably plan that she’ll deliver early.”

“Here at this hospital? Does she need to be at a neonatal center?”

“Not unless problems develop later on. I’ve given Nic a packet of literature to take home. It’ll answer most of your questions, and of course you’re always welcome at her prenatal appointments.”

A pager’s beep sounded from the doctor’s lab coat pocket. She checked the message, then said, “I’ve got to go. Nic, I’ll see you in two weeks. You be careful on those crutches, you hear?”

“I will, Liz. Thanks.”

Silence descended on the hospital room in the doctor’s wake. Nic plucked at a loose thread on the blanket on the bed while Gabe stuck his hands in his pockets, rocked on his heels, and tried to come up with something to say.

Finally Nic blew out a heavy breath and said, “This is awkward, isn’t it? Gabe, I’m not going to say I’m sorry, because that would be like wishing away the existence of one of my children. I will say I’m sorry you learned about it this way. I seem to have fallen into a habit of shocking you.”

“Life around you is certainly not boring.”

“That probably won’t change anytime soon.” She stared down at the sonogram images that her doctor had given her. “Twins. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it.”

He could definitely relate to that. He looked away from both her and the photos and cleared his throat. “The good thing is we have some time to get used to it.”

Which meant he didn’t have to think about it anymore right now. He really, really didn’t want to think about it anymore right now.

“So there’s probably paperwork that needs to be signed so you can get sprung.” He escaped toward the door, saying, “Let me see if I can do anything to speed it up.”

An hour later, they were on the road headed for Eternity Springs. Like the last time they’d made the drive from Gunnison, the mood between them was tense rather than relaxed, their conversation stilted rather than easy—absolutely not what Gabe had hoped for in the aftermath of their trip to California. When Nic fell asleep twenty minutes into the ride, Gabe breathed a little easier. Unfortunately, he also started thinking.

Today’s events had definitely changed his plans.

He had returned to Eternity Springs with a strategy in mind for managing this marriage. He’d decided to remain at Eagle’s Way until he found a place closer to town to buy. He figured he’d ask Nic out to dinner, spend time with her at town events, take things slow.

Gabe had done a lot of soul-searching during his weeks away from Nic. Intellectually, he understood that he wasn’t cheating on Jennifer by having sex with another woman. Emotionally, he wasn’t there yet.

The accident had complicated the mourning process; sex and guilt were interwoven in his brain. It was life and death and responsibility for death, for Jen’s death. How could he enjoy sex—one of life’s best gifts—when his wife lay in her grave and he was the one who’d put her there?

He’d thought about Nic and the marriage a lot while he’d been gone. The trip to California had been an eye-opener for him. His wife was smart, definitely sexy, and fun to be with. He admired her loyalty, her enthusiasm, and her determination. In another time, another life, he could have fallen for her.

That, in a nutshell, was the problem. While he could envision a time when the physiology of basic human drives might overcome his reluctance to engage in sex, he was dead solid certain he’d never again open his heart to love.

And Nic deserved to be loved.

He glanced over at her. Even in sleep, the strains of the day showed on her face. She probably still had a headache, and he knew her leg was hurting. She’d refused to take any more than the mildest of painkillers and even then had to be reassured multiple times that they posed no threat to the babies.

Babies. Jesus.

Now he had three people whose lives he could screw up.

He couldn’t love Nic. He couldn’t love those babies. He thought Nic’s issues with her own father skewed her thinking about what was best for the children she carried. She’d have been better off showing him the door and finding a guy who could give her the love she deserved, who would love her little ones like his own. Nic would have been better off looking elsewhere for a dad for her children, a husband with whom to create a family. Nevertheless, she hadn’t, and it was a waste of time to look backward now.

Looking backward was a bad idea all around. That’s why he resisted Pam’s suggestion that he see a shrink. He had no desire to lie on a doctor’s couch and babble about the losses in his past. He had no desire to tear down the walls that he’d spent a lifetime constructing. Been there, done that, and look where it had gotten him—on his knees in the snow on a mountain a twitch away from eating his gun. He’d let Jennifer breach the walls around his heart. He couldn’t, wouldn’t go there again with Nic.

I’ll do my best, Nic. It won’t be good enough, but it’ll be the best I can do. For you and for the baby. Babies.

He shuddered. Twins.

I’ll be there to help. I’ll be there to support you. I’ll be your friend. Then, if the right guy comes along someday, a man who can love you like you deserve, I’ll shake his hand and step aside.

Maybe in doing so, he could redeem himself at least a little.

Nic let out a little sleepy sniffle and shifted in her seat. Her foot kicked her purse and some of its contents spilled out onto the floorboard. Gabe locked his gaze on the road before him as his sense of self-preservation demanded he ignore the sonogram photograph lying right there in plain sight.

Nic didn’t stir until he slowed to pull into her driveway, and when she opened her eyes and started to move, a groan escaped her lips. “Ow.” She grimaced. “I forgot.”

“You’re due some aspirin.”

“Acetaminophen,” she corrected. “I’ll take a couple as soon as I get inside.”

As Gabe exited the car, Sarah Reese opened the door to Nic’s house and the boxer streaked outside. He barked twice in welcome, ran three tight circles around Gabe’s legs, his crooked tail wagging like a sorcerer’s wand, then bounded over to the passenger-side door, ready to pounce on Nic. Gabe called out to Sarah, “You want to grab his collar? The last thing we need is another fall.”

As Sarah hurried forward to corral the dog, Nic swung her car door open, then visibly braced herself to swing her knees around. Gabe said, “Hold what you have, Nicole. Let me help.”

“My crutches …”

“How about I carry you into the house? Then you can tackle the crutches.”

“My hero,” she said past gritted teeth as he slipped one arm around her waist, the other beneath her thighs, and lifted her up into his arms.

Sarah held the dog and fretted aloud. “Thank God you are okay. Oh, Nic, I feel like this is my fault. If I hadn’t forgotten I said I’d meet you at the library, you wouldn’t have gone looking for me.”

“Don’t be silly, Sarah.” Nic smiled wanly at her friend. “I have no one but myself to blame for my clumsiness.”

“I feel terrible. Lori does, too, because the reason I forgot about the library is because she and I were arguing. We made you a cake.”

“Butter pecan?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, it was your fault, but being the wonderful friend that I am, I forgive you. Can I have a piece of cake now?”

Sarah scratched the boxer behind the ears. “Not until after your supper.”

“You are such a mom.”

“Yeah, well, you are too, aren’t you? That’s why you can’t have cake before supper. Nutrition, nutrition, nutrition.”

With the women’s lighthearted bickering ringing in his ears, Gabe carried his wife into the house, where the aroma of chili spices teased his nostrils and reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He settled Nic into the overstuffed chair in the parlor that he’d figured out was her favorite, then returned to the car for her crutches … and his suitcase.

When he carried them inside, Nic’s smile of thanks faded upon spying the case. Her brow furrowed with confusion. “Gabe?”

He set the crutches beside her and the suitcase at the foot of the stairs. Looking at Sarah, he said, “Do I smell that supper you mentioned?”

“Chili. Cornbread is in the oven. Should be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Excellent. That should give me just enough time to grab a shower and stow my things.”

“Gabe?” Nic repeated. “Are you staying here tonight?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You can’t manage by yourself. Not while you’re on crutches. I’ll stay as long as you need help.”

A flurry of emotions flashed across Nic’s face, and Gabe feared he read them too easily. Relief was okay. Gratitude wasn’t a problem. It was the hope that sent unease crawling up his spine.

“Thanks, Gabe,” Nic said softly.

He searched for words to warn her against making too much of this, but came up empty, so he simply nodded, then headed for the stairs. When he reached the second-floor landing, he heard Nic say, “Guess what, Sarah? We’re having twins.”

Gabe’s stomach took a roll. Wonder if morning sickness is contagious.