A Time to Remember. Lois Richer
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In a way, that’s what she wanted—oblivion. But the doctor’s tone was so gentle, so soothing, she tried to answer him.
“I was running,” she whispered. “Running away.”
“From what?”
But the answer wasn’t there. Instead, the black curtain whooshed down and Marissa couldn’t answer.
“Did she faint? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing. Her brain had enough poking and probing and it shut down. She seems fine. Her vital signs are all excellent. Her scans were clear. She responded to all the stimuli tests we performed. The specialist’s report was faxed in this morning. Everything is normal.”
“What specialist?” Gray growled the words, knowing he should be thanking Luc, not badgering him. But every time he thought of her tied up, trying to get away, his stomach knotted. He slammed his fist against his thigh in frustration.
“I had her airlifted to the city as soon as we found her.” Luc’s cheeks turned red, but he held Gray’s stare. “I had to. I didn’t know how long she’d been out or what we’d find and I wanted to know immediately if there was brain damage.”
Gray winced, but kept his focus on Luc, pinning him.
“And you didn’t phone me until after they’d brought her back, did you?”
“No.”
“What if she’d died?”
Luc shook his head.
“Would God do that? Bring her home to let her die? I don’t think so, buddy. Where’s your faith?” He stepped backward when Gray surged forward, held up one hand. “Okay, okay. But just think about it. You had to concentrate on Cody. There was nothing you could do for Marissa. But I could, and I did.”
“You decided this all on your own?” Fury and indignation fought for supremacy. “Who consented to her care?”
“You did, through me.” Luc winced at his growl. “The three of us, Joshua, Nicole and I, consulted and decided it was for the best. We couldn’t let anything happen to Marissa, Gray. We just couldn’t.”
Gray sighed. What was wrong with him?
“I know. I should be thanking you instead of acting like an outraged—”
“Husband?” Luc grinned. “But that’s what you are. And I don’t blame you.” He picked up Marissa’s slim, scratched hand, grazing the tip of his finger over her injuries. “She put up quite a fight.”
Gray gulped, thrust away the images his brain conjured up. He could hardly bring himself to ask the next question, but he needed to know.
“You’re sure she wasn’t attacked?”
“Physically I believe she might have been,” Luc told him quietly. “But sexually?” He shook his head. “I did a full rape kit. There’s no evidence of that.”
“Thank God.” Gray sagged with relief.
“Indeed. You should be thanking Him for a lot of things, not the least of which is that your family has been restored to you. A little the worse for wear, perhaps, but they are back.”
“For now. But what’s to stop this from happening again? Who abducted them? We still don’t know that, Luc. And someone must have if her hands were tied.” He reached out, fury raging inside as he traced the unmistakable marks of rope burns.
Luc clapped him on the shoulder.
“I know you’ll probably tell me to mind my own business, but I have to say it anyway. This is something you have to take to God. There’s no other person who has the answers you want. You’re going to have to ask Him to explain it to you.” He turned, pulled open the door.
Gray stepped forward, grabbing his arm.
“Where are you going? Don’t you have to watch her for complications?”
“Someone will be monitoring her, Gray. They’ll keep me up to speed. Right now I’ve got rounds to do.” Luc paused a moment, spared a glance for Marissa, then smiled. “Besides, I’m sure you’re the best company for your wife right now. Why don’t you pull up a chair and just sit here for a while? I’m sure Marissa will have a thousand and one questions when she wakens.”
“Then you think she’s going to regain her memory? All of it?” Relief flooded him. One by one he loosened his fisted fingers. “When?”
“That’s not up to me, I’m afraid.” Luc’s rueful face gave away his feelings. “But God has a plan, buddy. A good one. And He knows what He’s doing. Leave it up to Him. Rest in His care.”
Gray didn’t want to wait for anything. He was sick of the uncertainty, sick of waiting for the next disaster, afraid to learn what waited around the next corner. If he could, he’d gather Marissa up in his arms, find Cody and take both of them back to the safety he could provide at the ranch. Unfortunately, hiding wouldn’t help either of them right now. Marissa needed medical care and Cody needed both of them.
“Did you hear me?” Luc asked.
“Yeah, I heard,” was all he could manage to say.
He stared at Marissa’s still form and wondered if they’d ever regain the life they’d shared, if she’d ever look at him the way she once had. He didn’t deserve it, not after what he’d said. But deep inside, away from the cynicism and anger, hope floated in a little round bubble.
Maybe, just maybe he hadn’t lost everything he loved.
“And Gray?”
“Yeah?” It hurt to look at her and know she felt nothing for him. Gray wheeled around, faced the doctor. “What is it?”
“Cody needs to see her. He needs to touch her and know she’s fine. Then I want him to see a psychologist.”
“Where?” How in the world could he nurse an amnesiac wife, protect his little boy and run a ranch?
“Right here, today. Dr. Scallion is here for his weekly appointments. God evidently knew we’d need the guy, so He had him change his scheduled day in town from yesterday to today. And he’s got lots of time to see Cody.”
“You’re the doctor.”
“Yes, I am. Don’t forget it.” Luc’s voice toughened to the gruff but tender tones Gray had heard him use on obstreperous patients. “Don’t tell me God hasn’t protected those two, Gray McGonigle. I doubt if you’ll ever know just how tenderly He cared for them when you couldn’t.”
The door creaked shut behind him.
Gray walked back to the bed, stared at Marissa’s bruised, battered face, and blood-covered hair, scratched arms. He recalled Cody’s tortured look each time he tried to fall asleep. He remembered his own long days, and even longer nights when he’d stuffed his face in his pillow to stop from sobbing his heart out at their loss.
What kind of tender care was that? What kind of God did that?
Ten thousand times he’d asked the question, ten thousand times he’d come up blank. God, or at least what he knew of God, was supposed to be love. He was supposed to tenderly care for those who followed Him. Marissa wasn’t perfect, but she sure didn’t deserve to be kidnapped by some crazy person. He, on the other hand, probably deserved everything God had sent him, and then some. But why not punish him directly?
He directed his arguments heavenward, but there was no response and his frustration and impotence at the situation burgeoned.
Some time later the door creaked open and Cody peeked around the corner. Gray held out a hand, drew him into the room, smiling at the cookie crumbs on Cody’s lips.
“I was just coming to get you. What have you been eating?”
Cody brought