One More Dance Roxanne Rustand (best non fiction books of all time TXT) 📖

with a clipboard and a million questions about Jared’s health, insurance, and whether or not there was a living will or power of attorney in place.

Kate could barely remember her responses, because all she could think about was the constant litany running through her mind. He’s alive... He’s alive... He’s alive...

Now, at the sound of hurried, approaching footsteps, she staggered to her feet as a flash of panic rocketed through her. Doctors...with bad news?

But it was Cindy Peters, and she wore a sympathetic smile. Dressed in surgical blues and all business, the nurse looked nothing like the sweatshirt-clad gal who’d wrestled a Newfoundland into the vet clinic last week for its annual rabies vaccination.

“Is Jared... Is he okay? Can I see him?”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there just yet.”

“I want to see my husband,” Kate insisted. “Now.”

“It’s been touch-and-go since he arrived. We had to restart his heart a few minutes ago, and we’re trying to get him stabilized so he can be taken up to surgery.”

“What?” Kate reached blindly for the back of a chair as a wave of cold fear washed through her.

“He lost a lot of blood, Dr. Mathers. I understand he was pinned in the car and it took quite a while to extricate him.”

Kate had known that he was in critical condition, but hearing the words slammed that reality home. Numb, she let Cindy guide her back into the chair.

The nurse crouched in front of her and took Kate’s hands in her own. “There’s an ER doctor and a surgeon with him right now, and another surgeon is on the way. As soon as we get the radiology and MRI results, they’ll be taking him up to be prepped for surgery.”

“Here? Shouldn’t he be airlifted somewhere? To a bigger hospital?”

“We have complete facilities here. Two board-certified surgeons. And...” Cindy hesitated. “The main thing is that there just isn’t time.”

Kate’s stomach tied itself into a cold, hard knot. “Tell me about his injuries. I have a right to know.”

“Yes, but the doctors need to explain.” The nurse’s eyes filled with sympathy. “They know you’re here, and one of them will be out in a few minutes. What about the rest of your family—are they on the way?”

Kate’s heart dropped.

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines—there was a good chance Jared wouldn’t make it. “I—I called a friend in Madison. She’s picking up our daughter at the airport right now. And I called Jared’s mother and his sister, but neither answered. The chaplain said he would keep trying them.”

“Good, good.” Cindy stood and looked across the room at someone, tipped her head toward Kate, then dredged up an encouraging smile. “I need to get back in there. Just hang tight, Dr. Mathers. Your husband has the best of care, and he must be a fighter, or he wouldn’t have made it this far.”

But a second surgeon was rushing to the hospital. There wasn’t time for transfer to a bigger hospital. And Jared’s heart had already stopped once.

Kate paced the room. Dropped quarters in a coffee machine and swallowed the bitter brew, barely aware of the scalding heat. Seconds ticked slowly past on the bland white face of the old-fashioned clock above the waiting room door, mocking her rising anxiety. What could be taking so long? Had Jared already died? Were they waiting for a chaplain to come back to the ER to help deliver the news?

At the sound of footsteps, she whirled toward the door.

Ralph Watson, who lived just a mile from their home and who was one of the local internal medicine docs, walked in and took one of her hands in both of his. “I’m glad I was covering the ER today, Kate.”

The grim expression in his eyes told her more than she wanted to believe.

“I’m taking you back to see him, but he needs to be transferred upstairs right away because the surgeon is just fifteen minutes out. The anesthesiologist is up there waiting for you, so he can go over the release forms.”

He murmured empty reassurances that she could barely hear over the buzzing in her brain. A clammy chill crawled down her back. Please, God, let Jared be all right.

She lunged out of her chair and followed close at Ralph’s heels as he went through the double doors of the ER and wound through a maze of curtained cubicles and gurneys to a trauma room at the end. Her heart battered against her ribs and her fear mounted with every step.

Ralph pulled to a stop just outside the door. “Jared is unconscious, but we still take care what we say in hearing distance,” he said in a low voice. “He’s got a skull fracture and a lacerated liver causing internal bleeding. We might find more problems when we go in. And...” He took a slow breath as he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He’s got some third-degree burns on his legs. This would be a good time for prayer, Kate.”

Her knees buckled. The room swam. From somewhere far away, a gentle hand gripped her arm and a voice ordered her to sit down, but she pulled back and blinked hard, forcing away the pinpoints of light sparkling at the edge of her vision. “I’m okay... Just let me see him.”

She looked past the doctor’s shoulder into the room. An orderly swiftly pulled up the side of the gurney with a clang, while another one gathered the chart and placed it at the foot of the bed.

Oh, God.

Jared was on a ventilator.

On the other side of the bed, a nurse checked the flow rate of a bag of saline hanging from a stand, then pulled a white hospital blanket up over the heavy bandaging on his chest. A framework of some sort held the blankets away from his lower legs.

A monitor beeped and blinked, its glowing green lines tracing the rhythm of his heart.

Kate dealt with emergencies every day. She performed complex surgeries with a high degree of