Silent Pledge - Hannah Alexander Mills & Boon Steeple Hill

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five seconds later the pain went away. Oxygen once more entered her lungs, and the sudden relief washed over her in a powerful wave. What was going on?

      She took a few more deep breaths and reached for her crying baby, but before she could pull him into her arms, the piercing shaft stabbed her again and forced her backward. She cried out from the shock. “God, help!”

      Again the pain subsided and her lungs filled. Was this some weird kind of asthma attack? It didn’t feel like one. And there hadn’t been the usual warning. Still, her inhalers—the ones her doctor gave her for free because she couldn’t afford them—were in the top drawer of her rickety bedside stand. She’d better get them out.

      More carefully this time, she reached toward Jerod. He needed changing before she did anything else. She picked up one of the last three clean diapers, and as she did so, she pressed against the new bruise on her right calf.

      “Ouch!” She couldn’t hear her own voice over the sound of Jerod’s squalling. And she barely caught another breath before the shaft struck her chest again, harder than before. She dropped the diaper on the floor and gasped. The pain grew worse, and the dim room went black for a few seconds.

      But Jerod’s cries brought her back.

      She took shallow breaths, willing her heart to slow its beating. She felt weaker now, and she didn’t have the strength to pick up the diaper. She pulled open the drawer and took out both inhalers. While Jerod continued to cry, she fumbled with the sprays. She could barely concentrate on breathing.

      Someone pounded from the other side of the paper-thin wall at the head of her bed. “Shut that kid up in there!” came a rusty female growl.

      The woman must be a part of that biker gang. Marla wanted to tell her to shut up, but she didn’t have the courage, or the energy.

      Another throb in her leg made her grimace. If she’d worn the stockings they gave her, she would have had some protection.

      She reached down to unfasten Jerod’s dirty diaper when she felt the hit again. This time the pain shocked her like a kitchen knife jutting through her ribs. She nearly fell on top of the baby before she could push herself away. The room grew blacker. In desperation she slid from the bed to the cold, dirty floor and groped for the telephone, but then she remembered that it had been disconnected.

      She had to get help. What if something happened to her? Jerod would be all alone. He could freeze in this room before daylight.

      As the pain once more let up, she glanced toward the thin wall. “Help me!” she called as loudly as breath would allow. “Somebody help me, please!”

      She heard a muffled groan, and again someone pounded on the wall. “Turn off that TV!”

      She closed her eyes in hopeless despair. “No, God, please, don’t let this happen.” With the last of her strength, and the healthy cries of her cheering section, she shoved the inhalers into the pocket of her pajama top, scrambled to the door of the tiny efficiency apartment, unlocked it, and used the threshold to pull herself to her feet.

      That was a big mistake. Everything went black again. She dropped to her knees and pushed the door open and felt the bite of winter wind brace her exposed flesh.

      “Somebody help me!” she called out into the night. “Please!” As she said the last word the pain came again, and her baby’s cries grew softer as she slumped across the front walk.

      Clarence shivered as he climbed back up into the darkened cab of the truck. “Sorry about that, guys. Couldn’t help it. Mercy has me taking this stuff that—” He broke off when he realized that Kendra was crying again, and Buck was sitting at the steering wheel, facing forward, his hands practically white from gripping so hard. The human emotional pain was thick enough in this truck to cut with a chainsaw.

      They’d been arguing again. He felt guilty for making them stop. While he was gone, they had just hurt each other worse. But maybe he could help them.

      “Look, you two, it’s really late and you’re tired, I know. I’ve gotta tell you, things aren’t gonna be this bad all the time.” He reached over and patted Kendra on the arm. “I’ve been there. I wanted to die, but I don’t anymore. There really are people who care about you, and even though you don’t see it right now, you’re gonna have to trust that I’m telling you the truth.”

      Buck’s hands loosened on the steering wheel, and he shot a glance across the cab at Clarence, then at Kendra. She didn’t move. It was as if she felt her husband looking at her, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

      Clarence hoped he was doing the right thing. “Would you just let me do something to help?” He waited until they both turned to look at him, and then he took a deep breath and let it out. How hard could it be? “I want to pray for you.”

      He couldn’t believe he’d said the words until they left his mouth. Suddenly he thought he might have to go back to the bathroom.

      He saw Buck’s eyes widen, and he felt a hot flush rushing over his body. Where’d he get the stupid idea he could pray? Who’d’ve thought that he, church-hater Clarence Knight, would pull something like this at three-thirty on Sunday morning? Had to be lack of sleep.

      But then something happened to Buck’s expression. Surprise seemed to gradually change to hope. Maybe it was the dim light in the cab or the weird shadows cast by the blinking sign on the front of the convenience store, but it looked real. Clarence remembered Ivy’s constant harping: “‘Ask and it will be given to you….’ God answers our prayers.” And he didn’t know of anybody who needed prayer more than these two right now. And there wasn’t anybody else in this truck.

      “Yeah, I know, sounds funny coming from me, but what could it hurt?” he said at last. “I mean, what’ve you got to lose?”

      Buck sighed and closed his eyes. “Nothing, Clarence. We’ve got nothing to lose. Go for it.” He bowed his head.

      Kendra turned and stared at her husband for a long moment. Clarence watched her. For a few seconds some of the pain left her eyes.

      Then Clarence bowed his head, like Ivy always did. “God, first of all I need to say that we’re praying this in the name of Jesus, just so I don’t forget at the end.” He didn’t understand all that yet because he’d never tried that hard to listen, but he knew Ivy always said these words to end her prayers. “And then I want to ask You to give Buck and Kendra some of the love I think You’ve been showing me lately. And then I want You to stay with Kendra after Buck and I leave, because I think she’s going to need You worse than anybody. And that’s all I can think of to say right now.” He raised his head and looked at them. “Guess that oughta do it.”

       Chapter Six

       L ukas was drifting to sleep in the call room early Sunday morning when he heard the blare of a siren. He opened his eyes to the sight of orange and red flames racing across the wall, and he sat up with a shout.

      And then he realized that the flicker was from an ambulance outside. Its lights penetrated the window blinds in fiery streaks of color. Lukas pushed his blanket back and got out of bed. Sometimes he still had nightmares about the explosions in October, of following Buck Oppenheimer through the collapsing E.R. and fighting the inferno that nearly engulfed them.

      The telephone rang. He reached over, felt for his glasses on the desktop and picked up the receiver.

      “Dr. Bower, this is Tex,” came the voice over the phone. She sounded irritated, but with Tex’s deep voice it was hard to tell. “Quinn and Sandra are bringing somebody in. Of course they didn’t radio us, so I don’t know what’s going on. I tell you, that man should not be wearing a uniform. Want to join us?”

      “I’m on my way.” Lukas grabbed his stethoscope from the desk and rubbed at the lenses of his glasses with the hem of his scrubs as he squinted his way out of the call room.

      When he reached the E.R. he saw

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