Adam's Promise. Gail Gaymer Martin
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back to the dispensary in Venezuela. She could see the blood seeping from Adam’s chest. She recalled the fear and anguish she felt seeing the handsome man slumped on the floor, seemingly lifeless. She blocked the ghastly vision.
“Is he conscious now? When can we see him?” Frank asked.
“They’ll let you know when you can go in,” the surgeon said, looking at Frank, then Liza. “Visiting will be limited until he’s in a regular room.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Liza said. Frank grasped his hand with a firm shake.
The surgeon stepped away. The Montgomerys seemed to relax and settled into their seats.
Kate’s heart ached but she managed to contain her concern. Adam hadn’t regained consciousness throughout the ordeal, and Kate knew what that meant. She leaned back, hoping to conceal her worry.
“What in the good earth is an intercoastal space?” Frank asked, looking at Kate. “It’s all a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.”
“Intercostal space,” Kate corrected. “It’s the space between the fifth and sixth rib. The bullet went through the chest and exited Adam’s back. The damage could have been much worse. We should be very grateful.” She realized too late she’d used the word we.
“Yes, indeed,” Liza said, her gaze searching Kate’s face as if mulling over what she’d said. She shifted her gaze toward her husband. “We should be on our knees thanking God and not complaining, Frank.”
Before any more was said, the ICU nurse arrived and beckoned his parents to follow.
Kate relaxed and watched them vanish through the doorway. She longed to be with them to see for herself that Adam was all right. She knew the physical signs and understood the monitor readings.
Her mind relived the fear she’d felt that day—the gunshots, her confusion, the dizzy fear that weakened her limbs, the panic she’d felt the moment she saw Adam bleeding on the floor. At that moment, she hadn’t had time to think about the why and who. She’d only had time to put pressure on the wound and do what she could to avoid shock from setting in.
But later, on the plane, she’d run the day over in her mind. Who would do this? Someone who’d been there, someone who knew where supplies were stored? Carmen? Señor Garcia? He’d been Adam’s last appointment, and he had a drug problem as well as alcohol. Everyone knew that. Her thoughts had struck a dead end, just as her life had seemed to now.
Instead of brooding, she rose and stretched her arms, trying to relieve the tension that knotted down her spine. She walked to the window and looked outside. The late-afternoon sun pressed against the pane, sending its heat through the glass. Kate looked beyond the familiar parking lot to the highway.
The shock of the past few days washed over her like icy water. Her whole life had changed in a few dreadful moments in Venezuela. She’d set her course and prepared for the dramatic move to Doctors Without Borders, subleased her apartment and sold her clunker in hopes of buying a new car when she returned from her year’s stint there.
So here she was now. No place to live. No car. No plans until she talked with the nursing director to see what they could do for her. Still, at the moment, all she wanted to do was see Adam, then sleep. She’d been without sleep for nearly two days. Her body trembled with fatigue and stress.
“Katherine.”
Kate lifted her head and saw Mrs. Montgomery approaching her.
“I’m sure you’d like to go in for a few minutes. Please go ahead. Frank is down getting us all some fresh coffee.”
Kate stood as Liza reached her. The woman grasped her fingers, her eyes dewy with tears.
“He looks a bit better,” she said. “He has a little color in his cheeks. He…” Her voice faded and she covered her face with her hands.
Kate longed to wrap her arms around the gentle woman, to give her comfort, something that would ease her anxiety. But something held her back. “He’ll be fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve prayed incessantly since this happened.”
Liza drew a shuddered breath and lifted her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry for crying. Adam’s our oldest. I can’t imagine—”
“It’s natural to cry and worry. I’ve done the same, and he’s just my colleague. My friend.” He was her friend in a strange sense. Despite his frequent uppity attitude, they’d lived in the same compound for the past months, shared the same food, laughed at the same jokes, struggled with the same crises. If that wasn’t friendship, she didn’t know what was. And if Kate were truthful, her heart had taken a strange turn when it came to Adam—a turn she hated to admit.
“You go ahead, dear,” Liza said, wiping her eyes with a pink lace-edged handkerchief. “I’ll be fine. Frank will be here in a moment.”
Kate gave the woman’s arm a squeeze, her own heart skipping with anticipation, and then she headed through the doorway and down the short corridor.
She pushed the large button on the wall, and the ICU door swished open. She moved past the monitors flashing the vital signs and data and entered the room, peering into cubicles until she saw him.
Kate froze, witnessing the strong, opinionated man, now unconscious. She preferred his attitude rather than seeing him like this. His face looked pale and unexpressive. Where was the color Liza had mentioned?
“Adam.” She neared his bed and stood beside his head, looking for a flicker of eyelashes or some sign of awareness.
She saw none.
“I miss your know-it-all comments, Adam. You’re not going to let a little bullet in the chest keep you down, are you?”
Kate moved her fingers forward and brushed one against his cheek. She’d never touched Adam so intimately until the day he had lain sprawled on the dispensary floor when she felt the prickle of whiskers on his cheek, whiskers now more pronounced.
The image sent a chill through her, and her heart pounded with angry thumps before settling down to a steady rhythm.
“Do you hear me, Adam? Come on. Wake up and give me some of your lip.” Lip. She eyed his well-formed mouth, recalling an occasional smile that lit his face…usually when he riled her. He seemed to enjoy setting her on edge.
Her gaze slid down the sheet, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest aided by a flow of oxygen. His hands lay limp at his sides, and she couldn’t resist raising one and giving it a squeeze, but she resisted the desire to draw it to her lips and kiss his talented fingers—fingers that held surgical instruments and changed lives.
As she returned his hand to his side, Kate leaned closer to his ear. “Adam. Where’s your spirit? Where’s your irritating arrogance? Wake up and let me see those lovely blue eyes.”
She pulled back, almost fearing he would open them, having heard her confession.
He didn’t.
Hearing the steady sizzle of oxygen and the beeps from the equipment behind her, Kate stood a moment, gazing at the powerful man now in God’s hands.
“Father, be with him,” she whispered. “Give him strength and healing so he can return to his lifesaving work…and, Lord, give me direction. I’m lost right now. I don’t know what will happen or where I’ll go. Give me courage. In Jesus’ precious name. Amen.”
Her gaze swept over Adam’s silent form, then feeling helpless, she turned and left the room. She pushed the button and walked into the corridor on wobbly legs.
From the waiting room doorway, she could see two others had joined the Montgomerys—a man about Adam’s height with dark blond hair and a woman with blond hair cut in a short, spunky style. From a distance, she could have been a young boy dressed in jeans and a knit shirt, but her shapely figure gave her away.
Kate hesitated joining them and lingered at the threshold until