Gifts Of Love. Crystal Stovall
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“Do you know where the storms hit tonight? Was there much damage?” she asked, eager for information.
“From the radio reports I’ve heard so far, a series of tornadoes touched down. However, most of them were south of Springfield, and they all hit in less-populated areas like this. So far, no fatalities have been reported, and I’m praying there won’t be any. But there has been a lot of wind damage to homes and barns in this area, as well as several power out-ages across the city.”
As one EMT prepared to transport David to the hospital, the other checked Jessie and Isabel, declaring them both in good condition.
Jessie met David’s eyes briefly, and though she didn’t say anything, he knew her thoughts. They easily could have been fatalities. But somehow, and for some reason, God had spared them.
Jessie kept pace with the EMTs and her father, as they hurried back across the field to the ambulance. Though her arm tired from holding Isabel, she refused her father’s offer of help. Neither did she let go of David’s hand. Though the storms were over, she still felt the need to hold on to him and to feel his strength.
When they reached the ambulance, the EMT tried to keep her from riding with David, but she shoved her way into the vehicle and refused to budge. The driver turned on the siren, and in less than fifteen minutes the ambulance pulled up at the emergency room entrance. Greeted by hospital personnel, the ambulance doors opened, and Jessie finally was forced to let go of David’s hand.
“Dada, dada,” Isabel said, as they wheeled her father away.
“It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be just fine, you’ll see,” Jessie promised.
Following behind, Jessie reached the lobby area as David’s stretcher disappeared down a hallway and behind a thin white curtain.
Having driven his own car to the hospital, Jessie’s father, Don, caught up with her from behind, giving his youngest daughter a squeeze on the shoulders.
“Where’s Mom?” Jessie asked, suddenly aware of her mother’s absence, though feeling her prayers.
“She’s staying at your sister’s house tonight.”
“Is Maria sick again?”
Don nodded. “She’s got a cold.”
“Just when she seemed to be getting over the worst of her morning sickness. At this rate she’s going to be sick her entire pregnancy.” Though Maria was in her seventh month of pregnancy, she still suffered from bouts of morning sickness. During the past two months, both Jessie and her mother had taken turns helping Maria; because she had been so fatigued, she needed help caring for her eighteen-month-old son and husband.
“Did the storm hit near them?” Jessie asked.
“Strong winds gave them a few tense moments, but everyone’s fine.”
“That’s good news.”
A woman wearing white pants and a colorful smock approached them. As she handed a clipboard and pencil to Jessie, she said, “We’ll need your husband’s medical and personal history.”
Refusing to take the clipboard, Jessie said, “Oh, he’s not my husband. He’s my…” She stumbled over the words. What was David to her? They really weren’t even friends. They were barely acquaintances.
With ease, Don stepped in to explain. “My daughter just happened to be on the highway at the same time as the young man when the tornado struck. I’m afraid we really don’t have the information you need.”
Finally, Jessie found her voice. “His name is David. David Akers.” Turning to her father, she added, “He’s Liz and Bart’s son.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Don exclaimed. Then his pleasure quickly turned to concern. “I’m sure I heard the Akers were leaving for an extended anniversary vacation in their motor home.”
“Thanks for your help,” the hospital employee said, before she returned to the admittance desk.
“What a night,” Jessie exclaimed to her father as she wiped her forehead with her sleeve.
“You need to go home, take a shower and crawl into bed.”
“I will,” she said, “but not until I know David’s okay.” She’d wait in her wet, grimy clothes all night if she had to. “Besides, I can’t abandon Isabel.”
Holding out a finger to Isabel, Don waited until she grabbed hold of it, then gently shook her hand. “Good grip,” he said, much to the toddler’s delight. Opening his arms, he attempted to take the little girl. While Jessie appreciated her father’s thoughtfulness, she wasn’t ready to release the child. And obviously, Isabel wasn’t ready to release her.
Staring at Jessie’s father, Isabel’s eyes teared up, and she threw her arms around Jessie’s shoulders and buried her small face in the base of Jessie’s neck.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a new friend,” her father said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Jessie nodded. “I’m just glad I can be here for her.”
“Since it could be a while before we know anything about David’s condition, why don’t I get us a cup of coffee from the vendor down the hall, and you can tell me the whole story.”
“A cup of coffee sounds great. And while you’re doing that, I need to find some dry clothes, diapers and a snack for Isabel.”
Thanks to the help of a nurse, Jessie attended to Isabel’s needs. Then, as she’d promised her father, Jessie recounted the past few hours. She told her father everything. Almost everything. She didn’t tell him how tightly David had held her beneath the overpass. How she’d gathered her strength from his every breath. She didn’t tell him how cold her hand had felt when she’d been forced to let go of David’s at the hospital. And glancing down the hallway toward his curtained cubicle, she didn’t tell her father how desperately she wanted to hear good news.
When Jessie shifted Isabel’s weight to her opposite hip and shoulder, she noticed the toddler had dozed off. Lightly patting her back, Jessie realized how exhausted Isabel must be.
“Let me take her for a little bit,” her father offered again.
Jessie shook her head. “She doesn’t know you, and I wouldn’t want her to wake up and be frightened. She’s been through enough trauma for one night.”
And Jessie had a feeling this little girl had already experienced more upheaval in her short life than most children ever did.
“I’m fine,” she assured her father. Though, if she were to tell the truth, she longed to crawl into her soft bed at home and sleep for hours. Her body ached from head to toe—though the discomfort wasn’t from holding Isabel. Her exhaustion was mental. It’d been a long night, and the longer they kept David the more worried she became. If she didn’t hear news about David soon…
Finally, she sought out her own answers. While Isabel had been awake, Jessie hadn’t ventured back to where David was being treated because she didn’t think Isabel should see him surrounded by doctors and medical equipment.
Now, because he’d been moved to a different area, it took Jessie a few minutes to locate him. When she did, she saw that he was hooked up to what she thought was a cardiac monitor, and a doctor and a nurse were talking to him.
With David’s head turned away from Jessie, he didn’t realize she watched through a narrow opening in the divider. She started to back away, not wanting to interrupt, but then inched forward. It wasn’t her intention to eavesdrop; she just wanted to get a better look at the man who’d protected her during the storm. Until now, she’d been running on adrenaline, seeing what was before her, yet not really seeing anything at all. If she’d had to describe David, she would have omitted the intensity of his eyes and the serious curve of his lips. But if anyone had quizzed