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Hazardous Holiday. Liz Johnson
Читать онлайн.Название Hazardous Holiday
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474065016
Автор произведения Liz Johnson
Серия Men of Valor
Издательство HarperCollins
But when she staggered out from that stupor, her nightstand had been full of empty mugs, her bed turned into a cocoon of wool blankets.
She’d dressed in black and held Cody close as Aaron’s casket was lowered into the ground.
It had been a fluke. People didn’t just walk around and get shot. She understood that.
At least she thought she did.
But now her second husband had been shot, too. And men died from bullet wounds.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to keep her mind from wandering down the hall to the ER, to where Zach was being treated for his wounds. The ER doctor had been very firm. She and Cody couldn’t go with Zach while he had his procedure, so she might as well take Cody in to see his cardiologist while Zach was being taken care of.
Only she couldn’t seem to focus on Dr. Guthrie’s words as he jotted notes into Cody’s chart.
“Mrs. McCloud?” The doctor sounded like he’d called her name several times, but she still jumped when his words broke through her consciousness.
“Yes? Yes.”
Dr. Guthrie pointed at Cody. “How many hours a night is he sleeping?”
“About ten or eleven.” She bit her lip, hoping that didn’t mean more bad news. At his frown, she hesitated to add more, but it had to be said. “And napping three to four hours throughout the day.”
He nodded, scribbled more and pinched his nose. “Well, young man, your oxygen levels are getting lower, which is making you pretty sleepy.”
Even now, Cody’s eyes drooped, as if the effort of remaining upright on the exam table was just too much.
“What can we do?” She sounded defeated already. And she hated it.
Except...well, this was her son, her only child, her last connection to Aaron. She couldn’t lose him. But as long as someone was trying to kill her, she would be distracted from Cody’s needs, always wondering when Jackson Cole’s lackey would pop up again.
It wasn’t fair.
None of this was fair.
She grabbed for a tissue from the box sitting on the blue counter but had to physically restrain herself from picking up the whole box and chucking it at the wall.
Dabbing her eyes, she squared her shoulders and tried to keep her focus squarely on Cody’s care. “What can we do?”
“I want you to talk with the transplant coordinator again. You know Denise Engle.” It wasn’t really a question, but Kristi nodded all the same. “Just make sure that you have everything in place if a match becomes available.”
“Am I at the top of the list yet?” Cody asked. Kristi grabbed at his pointy shoulder to shush him. Cody sounded far too excited. Especially when she and the doctor both understood that his best day would be someone else’s worst.
“I’m afraid not,” Guthrie said. “But you’re getting close. For now, you can stay at home, but...”
She knew that but. If Cody’s condition continued to deteriorate, he’d need to be admitted until his transplant. Dr. Guthrie had warned her of that during their first appointment.
He’d have to leave his car models and his quiet room and his very cool night-light. And he’d probably miss most of the Christmas season.
Cody would hate it.
So she shook her head at the doctor. “Please. There must be something we can do.”
He nodded slowly. “For now we’re going to set you up with a portable oxygen tank.” As he wrote a quick note on his prescription pad, he directed her to a medical supply store. “I want him to use this all day and at night.” Turning his attention to Cody, he motioned long, narrow fingers toward his nose. “The oxygen will help you feel more awake, and it’ll come through a tube that fits over your ears and right into your nose. Think you can keep it on all day?”
Cody shrugged. “I guess.”
“You mean, ‘Yes, sir,’” Kristi corrected.
Ducking his head in chagrin, Cody agreed. “Yes, sir.”
Dr. Guthrie leaned in, a soft smile on his usually firm face. “If you have a hard time with it at first, take it out for five minutes every hour until you’re used to it.”
Suddenly Cody’s face lit up, and Kristi had a feeling it had nothing to do with the doctor’s five-minute reprieve.
“Zach!”
She spun so fast that her neck popped, but she hardly noticed when her gaze settled on the broad form leaning against the exam room doorjamb. His hazel eyes were bright and alert, and some of the color that had drained from his lips had returned. But his left arm was in a black sling, held tight against his body.
She sailed across the room, and before she could even process her own intent, she’d thrown her arms around his waist. It seemed to release a burst of a chuckle, which ended on a soft groan.
“Oh!” She jumped back in time to see him physically working to relax the lines around his mouth. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? What are you doing here? We were going to go to the ER right—” She waved toward the doctor. “We were going to go find you as soon as we were done.”
He managed a strained smile. “No need. They patched me up and gave me some fluids and sent me on my way.”
Dr. Guthrie eyed Zach with a heavy dollop of suspicion but said nothing. It didn’t help the knot in her stomach. Zach swayed just a bit, and she almost grabbed for him before he leaned his good shoulder against the door frame.
His gaze never moved from hers, but there was a flickering in his eyes, a moment where he wasn’t as focused as he wanted her to believe he was.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m not.” Little lines took up residence around his eyes, even though the rest of his face didn’t move. “Better me than you.” His gaze traveled across the room. “Or Cody.”
Her stomach churned. Cody had been only a few inches away from that bullet. She’d come far too close to losing the person she loved most in the world, and her only response was a three-word prayer. Thank You, God.
But what would happen if Cole found his mark the next time and Cody lost her?
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