Did You Say...Wife?. Judith McWilliams
Читать онлайн книгу.
“Did you see the accident, Mrs. Forester?” the policeman asked Jocelyn.
“Yes, that man saw the last parking space, and he sped up to reach it before the van coming from the other direction got it. Lucas was getting something out of the car when the driver hit a patch of ice and slid into him.”
“How did the car get off him?”
“I forced that—” Jocelyn glared at the departing back of the still volatile protesting man “—excuse for a driver out of his car, and I reversed it off Lucas.”
“Excuse me.” The husky emergency medical technician moved Jocelyn and the policeman aside so he could move in the stretcher.
Jocelyn watched intently as they loaded Lucas aboard the gurney.
“Don’t you worry, ma’am.” The technician paused long enough to give her a reassuring smile. “He’s got a good, strong heartbeat, and head wounds always look much worse than they are. All that blood, you see.”
Jocelyn stared at the gruesome stain on the parking tarmac and shuddered. She most certainly did see.
“How about if you ride to the hospital in the ambulance with your husband?” the technician said. “You can fill us in on his name and background as we go.”
“You go along with your husband, Mrs. Forester,” the policeman agreed. “Your car can’t be driven now, anyway.”
Jocelyn turned, briefly saw the extensive damage the sedan had done to the side of Lucas’s rental car and dismissed it as unimportant. Nothing was important but Lucas.
She accepted the helping hand the policeman gave her into the ambulance and then huddled on a jump seat on one side, trying to stay out of the way of the paramedic who was taking Lucas’s blood pressure.
“His pressure’s holding well,” the technician told Jocelyn. “Tell me, does he have any chronic conditions?”
“No,” Jocelyn answered. “He jogs daily, so he’s in good physical shape.”
“Good,” the man grunted as he started to rip open Lucas’s white shirt.
Jocelyn bit back the urge to demand to know what he was doing. She didn’t want to distract the man and thus endanger Lucas.
As she watched, he began to tape flat, disk-shaped things with wires attached to them to Lucas’s chest.
“This is just a precaution,” the technician said, rewarding Jocelyn’s patience with information. “The hospital is getting the readout now and they’ll be able to respond the minute we get him there.”
“How much longer?” Jocelyn shivered at the sight of Lucas’s white face. The very faint shadow of his emerging beard showed up starkly against the abnormal pallor of his cheeks, giving him a slightly raffish look. The look was reinforced by the nasty bruise beginning to emerge on the left side of his face.
“We’ll be there soon.” The man braced himself against the side of the ambulance as the driver swung around a curve.
Five minutes later they pulled up in front of the emergency room door of the hospital, and a team of white-coated personnel erupted through the doors and swarmed into the ambulance. To her relief, the people seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Within seconds they had Lucas out of the ambulance and were rushing him through the double doors.
“Come on, Mrs. Forester,” the technician said. “I’ll show you where you can wait.”
“Thank—” Her voice broke under the force of the emotions she was trying to hold in check.
“Try not to think about it.” The man took her arm and steered her into the emergency waiting room.
Not thinking about Lucas was like trying not to breathe. It only worked until your instincts took over, and then you automatically started again.
“You can wait in here, Mrs. Forester.” The man showed her into a small waiting room furnished with a black vinyl couch and an orange plastic chair. “You sit down, and I’ll go tell the doctor where you are, all right?”
Jocelyn nodded jerkily and sank onto the couch. She clenched her hands into fists and stared down at them, shocked when she saw a tear fall and bounce off her white knuckles. Impatiently she wiped her cheeks with her coat sleeve and then started to pick up her purse to get a tissue. Her purse wasn’t there. Vaguely she glanced around the room, wondering where it was and then dismissed its whereabouts as unimportant. There was nothing in her purse that couldn’t be replaced, whereas Lucas…
Jocelyn swallowed the raw taste of fear.
“Mrs. Forester, I’m so glad you’re here.” A tall, elderly man bustled into the room. “I’m Dr. Edwards, the staff neurosurgeon, and I’ve just seen your husband. We’re doing an MRI at the moment, and as soon as that is done I want to go in.”
“In?” Jocelyn repeated blankly.
“Operate,” the man said succinctly. “There’s inter-cranial bleeding going on and it has to be stopped.
“It’s extremely fortunate you were with him or we would have lost precious time trying to locate the next of kin.”
Jocelyn shuddered. She wasn’t sure whether his half brother or his stepmother would be considered his next of kin, but one thing she did know, neither one of them would have lifted a finger to help him. They valued Lucas’s possessions, not Lucas himself. In fact, she thought, as she remembered Bill’s hard eyes glaring at her, she wouldn’t put it past Bill to stall giving his consent in the hope that Lucas might suffer permanent brain damage. Her stomach lurched. Or worse.
She didn’t dare let the doctor find out she wasn’t Lucas’s wife. Not until after he was out of danger. Then she’d confess.
Taking a deep breath, Jocelyn said, “I’ll sign whatever is necessary to ensure…my husband’s recovery.” The word husband rang mockingly in her ears. For so long she’d dreamed of Lucas coming to love her, and now that there was no chance of that ever happening, she was publicly claiming him as her husband.
Her breath caught on a sob at the irony of it.
“I know it’s hard, Mrs. Forester, but try not to worry. The MRI was looking good when I left. With just the smallest amount of luck, he’ll sail through the operation and by christmas, all he’ll have to remember this by is a scar, which any good plastic surgeon can take care of.
“Now, you try and relax, and I’ll send the secretary in with the release forms for you to sign. I’m going to go prep him for surgery.”
Jocelyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down in tears.
Jocelyn watched the doctor leave and then stared down at her tightly clenched hands and tried to think, to plan her next step. She couldn’t. Her thoughts kept getting sucked down into the maelstrom of emotions swirling through her. Finally she just gave up and stared blankly at the beige wall. All she could do was to endure and wait for the operation to be over.
Despite the kindness of the workers in the emergency room, who kept bringing her cups of coffee and offering hearty words of encouragement that rang false to Jocelyn’s ears, the wait seemed interminable.
Finally, when Jocelyn had about reached the end of her tether, the doctor strode through the doorway. His wide grin told her everything she wanted to know.
Relief washed over her in waves. A high-pitched buzzing filled her ears. Jocelyn shook her head to try to clear the sound, and the movement snapped her link with consciousness. A dark gray fog closed over her, carrying her into a blissful silence.
She came to a few minutes later to find herself lying on the sofa she had been sitting on, a worried-looking doctor bending over her. For a fraction of a second she was confused, and then she remembered.
“He’s okay?” she demanded.
“completely