Cattleman's Courtship. Carolyne Aarsen
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the paramedics had Alan on a stretcher and then wheeled him out the doors.
Beyond the double doors Nicholas saw the whirling lights atop the ambulance and the enormity of what had just happened struck him.
“Cara. Go with him,” Nicholas heard Lori Morrison called out.
Cara glanced around, looking confused at the sound of her aunt’s voice.
“Please,” Lori pleaded. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
Nicholas found her this time and gave her a gentle push in the direction of the ambulance. “I’ll take care of your aunt. You go. Be with your uncle.”
He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before she whirled away, running after the paramedics.
Nicholas hurried to Lori’s side. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said, slipping his arm over her shoulder. “We’ll meet Cara there.”
Lori only nodded, clutching his arm.
He steered Lori to his truck and soon they were speeding down the highway to the hospital, trying in vain to keep up with the ambulance. Lori sat curled against the passenger’s-side window, a silent figure clutching her coat, her face strobed by the flashing red lights of the ambulance they were following.
While he drove, Nicholas sent up a quick prayer for Alan Morrison and for Cara, praying the ambulance would get to the hospital on time.
Chapter Two
Sorrow, huge as a stone, lodged in Cara’s chest. Tears threatened, but she held them back. In the past couple of hours her aunt had cried enough for both of them.
She wanted time to rewind. She wanted to go back when her uncle was still walking around. Still talking and telling his terrible jokes.
Not strapped to a gurney with a paramedic working on him while they raced to the hospital in the swaying ambulance.
Myocardial infarction, the paramedics had said. Heart attack.
How could a heart suddenly decide to stop working? What triggered it?
Images flickered in her mind. Uncle Alan wheezing as he lifted a box. His unusually high color.
Though he only worked part-time, Cara knew he’d been under stress lately. The practice had been extremely busy and Alan was called more often to fill in on the large animal work.
Another vet, Gordon Moen, was supposed to be coming to help out, but he wasn’t arriving for another three weeks.
Too late for Uncle Alan.
The stone in her chest shifted and tears thickened her throat.
Please, Lord, don’t take him away, too. You already took my mother, please spare him.
Then she caught herself.
God didn’t listen to prayers. How many had she sent up that her mother would come back to her? Would put her first in her life?
Had God listened when she prayed Nicholas would choose her over his work? Over his ranch?
Sometimes she wondered if her prayers were selfish but she believed that anyone else in her situation would want the same things.
Aunt Lori always said God moved in mysterious ways. Well, they were certainly mysterious to Cara.
Cara rolled her head slightly, chancing a glance at Nicholas, who had stayed at the hospital. The knot of his tie hung below his open collar of his rumpled shirt. She couldn’t help the hitch of her heart at the sight. He looked more approachable now, more like the Nicholas she remembered.
As if aware of her scrutiny, he glanced back at her. And again their gazes locked. He turned, then walked back in her direction.
He sat down in the empty chair beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “How are you doing?” he asked.
The deep timbre of his voice still made her heart sing. Still swept away her natural reserve. “I’m okay.”
He frowned, as if dissatisfied with her reply. But what else could she say? She felt especially vulnerable now and if she said more, she would start to cry. She needed to maintain what dignity she could. To stay aloof, calm and in control. Nothing had changed in his life and she couldn’t put herself through that emotional wringer once again.
“Here’s your aunt,” he said suddenly, standing up.
Lori came down the hallway, clutching her purse. A nurse walked beside her, talking in hushed tones. As they came closer Cara heard snatches of the conversation.
“He’ll be on the monitors for a couple of days…good pulse…healthy man…”
Lori nodded, but Cara knew she wasn’t absorbing all this.
Cara got up, stretching her tired muscles, and walked toward her aunt.
“How is he?” Cara knew the question was superfluous but she had to ask.
Her aunt shook her head. “He looks so awful with all those things attached to him. You don’t want to see him yet.”
But Cara needed to.
“Can I see him?” she asked the nurse.
“You two can go in,” she said, gesturing at Cara. “But only for a minute. We don’t want to tire him out.”
Cara realized with a start the nurse had included Nicholas in the invitation. She was about to correct her, when the nurse turned, her shoes squeaking on the gleaming floor.
Cara didn’t look back to see if Nicholas was coming, but as she followed the nurse, she could hear his measured tread behind her, slightly slower than her own.
The nurse motioned for Cara to come closer. “You’ve got two minutes then I’ll come and get you.” She smiled at Cara, then past her. Cara could tell the moment her smile connected with Nicholas. Nicholas always had that effect on women, she thought dully, pushing aside the curtain around her uncle’s bed, her fingers trembling.
She stepped forward, then faltered at the sight before her.
Her uncle, a large, strapping man, lay on the bed, his face still obscured by the oxygen mask. Lines attached to circular pads snaked out to a machine beeping out a regular rhythm. His arms lay beside him, bare except for a blood-pressure cuff attached to a machine. Two IVs ran out from his arms.
He looked like death.
Cara pressed her hand to her mouth, stopping the faint cry of dismay, her knees buckling beneath her.
She would have fallen, but strong arms caught her from behind. Held her. Just for those few seconds she allowed herself to drift back against Nicholas’s comforting strength, thankful for his presence.
We fit so well, Cara thought, letting him support her. His touch, his smell, his warmth felt so familiar it created an ache deep in her chest.
Then, when she caught her balance, his hands settled on her waist, held a moment and then gently pushed her away.
As if he couldn’t stand to touch her any longer than he had to.
Cara disguised the pain of his withdrawal by catching her uncle’s hand and clinging it to it, hoping he would pull through this emergency. She stayed by her uncle’s side a moment longer, then turned away.
“I want to…go,” she said to Nicholas.
Aunt Lori sat huddled in the hard plastic chair, her hands kneading each other. As Cara came closer, her head came up. “Is he awake?”
Cara shook her head.
“He was working too hard.” Aunt Lori’s voice sounded so small. So wounded.
Cara stifled the flicker of guilt her aunt’s innocent comment created. It wasn’t her fault, she reminded herself. Even if she had stayed behind and worked at the clinic