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The Heart's Choice
Joyce Livingston
The product of foster homes, Tavia McRae was convinced nothing in her life could go right - until an accident on the highway left a family thinking she was their late son Adam's fiancГ©e.For the first time, Tavia had a home to call her own, even though she had to live a lie there. She knew that truck driver Beck Brewer felt responsible for the accident but began to look forward to his frequent visits to the family.Tavia couldn't stop the love blossoming in her heart, but could she draw courage from Beck's firm faith to come clean - even though she risked losing it all?
The darkness. The tunnel. The hospital room. An older couple who said they loved her and prayed for her. None of it made any sense.
Slightly turning her head, Tavia peered into the face of yet another stranger. A handsome man in a wheelchair with a small vase of white daisies balanced between his knees.
“Hi. They said you were awake. I’ve been so worried about you.” He placed the vase on the nightstand. “I want you to know how sorry I am. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn't have been injured. I did everything I could to avoid the accident, but there wasn’t anything I could do.”
Accident. This must be the man she heard earlier. Beck. She tried to speak, but the tubes prevented her.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned that. I didn’t mean to upset you—I’ll leave now.”
Bewildered, Tavia watched him go. All her life no one had cared if she lived or died; now three strangers were concerned about her.
JOYCE LIVINGSTON
is a Kansan who has held many dream jobs, from being a television broadcaster of eighteen years, to owning her own retail clothing store, to lecturing on quilting and sewing, to writing magazine articles, to being a part-time tour escort, to having over twenty inspirational romance novels contracted, eleven already published. Her books have won numerous awards: Favorite Contemporary Book of both 2000 and 2002, and in 2003 she was named Author of the Year. Her lifetime dream came true last fall when she got word from her agent that Love Inspired wanted to buy this book, The Heart’s Choice.
The Heart’s Choice
Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of
my hands; thy walls are continually before me.
—Isaiah 49:16
Oh, my, where do I start?
I owe so much to so many.
Family, friends, other authors. My editor,
Krista Stroever, who really knows her stuff.
My hands-on agent, Carolyn Grayson, who has
great confidence in me and continually spurs me
on. And most of all, my husband, Don, for being
so supportive of my writing, loving leftovers and
putting up with all my idiosyncrasies. I also owe a
debt of gratitude to Tracie Peterson, who has been
a real mentor to me and taught me much about
writing, and to Rebecca Germany for taking that
first chance on me and publishing my first book.
Then, there is Morgan Chilson, who so capably
copyedits for me, and Jean Buchanan, who
volunteers to be my reader. And I can’t leave
out my writing group, the wonderful
Kansas Fiction Writers.
But, in addition to the above, I want to acknowledge
you—the reader who has purchased this book.
I hope you enjoy The Heart’s Choice, my first
book for Love Inspired. I loved writing it,
and hope to write many more Love Inspired
books to share with you in the future.
Dear Reader,
Hello! Let me introduce myself. My name is Joyce Livingston and it has been my pleasure to write this book, The Heart’s Choice, for Love Inspired.
The Heart’s Choice is the story of Tavia MacRae and Beck Brewster, two lonely people who are thrown together in the most unlikely of circumstances. Sometimes, life throw us a curve, and it certainly threw one at Tavia and Beck. What happened to them could happen to any of us at any time. Has life ever thrown you a curve? How did you handle it? Did you turn the reins of your life over to God, or did you muddle on through yourself, running into one insurmountable obstacle after another? I hope you enjoy reading how Tavia and Beck responded when their world fell apart.
Although I have had a number of inspirational romance books published, this is my very first book for Love Inspired. Writing inspirational romance for you, the reader of Love Inspired, is a dream come true. A number of years ago, God called me to be an encourager to women everywhere, but I never dreamed it would be through my writing. Yet, He has given me this wonderful opportunity, and I praise Him for it.
I’d love to hear your comments about The Heart’s Choice. If you’d be willing to pray for me as I write these books, I invite you to become a part of my prayer team. E-mail me at: joyce@joycelivingston.com, or visit my Web site at www.joycelivingston.com.
Till next time,
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
The woman in the passenger seat quickly rolled down the window as the SUV careened to a stop, its tires making a crunching sound as they left the Colorado highway and rolled onto the uneven shoulder. “What’s the problem?” she called out to Tavia, who was standing at the edge of the road, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved print top, both insufficient to ward off the chill of the late afternoon.
Tavia MacRae blinked hard and tried to appear calm, although inside she was a jangle of nerves. “My—my new boyfriend dumped me out of his car. I—I need a ride.”
The nice-looking young man behind the steering wheel frowned as he sized her up from head to toe. “I don’t know. I usually don’t pick up strangers.”
Disappointed by his comment and afraid her boyfriend might return, Tavia allowed her jaw to drop. “Then why did you stop?”
“I asked him to.” The pretty brunette in the front seat gave her a warm smile. “You looked like you needed help.”
“His hands were all over me. He tried—” Tavia dipped her head and swallowed hard but couldn’t hold back a sob as the tip of her finger touched her swollen lip. “Wh-when I wouldn’t—you know—he got really mad and started pushing me around and hitting me with his fists. I—I was afraid he was really going to hurt me, but instead he reached across and opened the door and shoved me out.” She hunched her shoulders and shivered as she rubbed at her skinned elbow. “He wouldn’t even let me have my jacket. He—he just drove off and left me here.”
The man raised a brow. “He was your boyfriend?”
Tavia shook her head. Her lip hurt, and so did her arm and her wrist. But what hurt most was the embarrassment she felt at having to admit she’d been so gullible. “He wasn’t really my boyfriend. This—this was the first time I’d been out with him. He—he seemed real nice when I met him.”
The woman winced at Tavia’s words. “Maybe you should have gotten to know him better before deciding to take such a long ride with him.”
Tavia lowered her eyes, knowing the woman was right. “I don’t have the opportunity to meet men that often. I guess I was persuaded by his good looks and his nice car. I’ve learned my lesson.”
The man continued to eye her suspiciously, as if he half believed her story but wasn’t quite sure she could be trusted. “I don’t know. Maybe it—”
The nice brunette slapped at the man’s arm. “Adam, come on. Don’t be such an old worrywart. Can’t you see she needs help? We can’t leave her stranded out here on the road. The sun will be disappearing behind the mountains any time now and she’ll freeze in that lightweight shirt. She’s already shivering. At least let her use your cell phone so she can call someone.”
Tavia waited, too humiliated to meet his gaze, her heart pounding in her throat, knowing there was no one she could call, and who knew when someone else would come by and give her a ride? Maybe it would be someone even more dangerous than the man who’d dumped her. Why did she always pick the losers? If she’d been smarter, been a little more cautious—
Frowning, the man handed Tavia his cell phone. She punched in a few random numbers then, after turning away from them, pressed the End button and pretended to be waiting for someone to answer. “Uh-oh. Looks like they’re not home and I don’t know anyone else who would be willing to drive this far to pick me up. Are you sure you can’t give me a ride?”
The woman leaned toward him. “Adam, please?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his arms circling the steering wheel as he turned toward the open window and hitched his head toward the back seat. “Okay, climb in, but we’re only taking you as far as the next town.” He paused long enough to give her a warning frown. “You understand?”
Tavia yanked open the back door of the big, shiny SUV when she heard the lock click open and climbed in, closing it quickly behind her before they had a chance to change their minds. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this. It seems like I’ve been standing on this road for hours. The traffic has been whizzing by me and no one would stop.”
“They probably had better sense than I did,” the man said gruffly, his eyes trained on the rear-view mirror as he cautiously pulled back onto the highway.
The woman sitting beside him leaned into his shoulder and smiled up at him. “Now, sweetie, don’t be such an old bear. I respect this woman for refusing that man and fighting him off like she did. You should, too.”
He seemed to deliberate her words carefully; finally glancing back over his shoulder at Tavia with a nod and, for the first time, offering a half smile. “Sorry. She’s right. It’s just that you can’t be too careful these days.”
“Thanks, I don’t blame you for being cautious.” Tavia leaned back in the seat and tried to calm down. Every bone in her body ached. “I wouldn’t pick up a hitchhiker, either.”
“But you’re not a hitchhiker,” the woman refuted adamantly. “You’re someone in trouble. To me, there’s a big difference.”
Tavia smiled appreciatively, sure if it hadn’t been for the nice woman’s influence on the man she assumed was her husband, she’d still be standing by the side of the road. “Thanks. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”
The woman shifted her position and extended her hand over the back of her seat. “Hi. I’m Jewel Mallory.”
“Hi, Jewel. I’m Tavia.”
“Tavia? What a pretty name. I’ve never heard it before.”
Tavia smoothed at the tear on her shirt. “Thanks. I think it’s Scottish. I like your name, too. It sounds real elegant.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” Adam inserted, smiling at the lovely lady seated beside him. “She’s my jewel. I told my folks, she’s not only a jewel, she has a heart of pure gold. But then, I guess you’ve realized that.”
Jewel gave him another playful pat. “Why, Adam, what a sweet thing to say.”
He grinned. “Simply the truth, my precious.”
Jewel’s hand cradled the man’s shoulder. “Well, Tavia, this man, who appears to be my biggest fan, is my fiancé, Adam Flint.”
“You’re engaged?” Tavia looked from one smiling face to the other. “Congratulations. When are you getting married? Have you set a date yet?”
“In the spring, right after I graduate,” the man chimed in, his smile broadening, his sullen behavior suddenly changing for the better. “I’m taking Jewel home to meet my parents.”
Tavia’s brows lifted in surprise. “They haven’t already met her?”
Adam shot a quick glance toward his intended. “Not yet, but they’ve talked to her on the phone a number of times. We met in California where I’ve been going to school. She’s originally from Tennessee.”
“But they have seen your picture, right?” Tavia asked.
“I take terrible pictures.” Jewel’s hand went to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “I hate having my picture taken and I guess it shows on my face. I end up looking like a mug shot for the post-office wall. I wouldn’t let Adam send them any.”
Adam gave his fiancée a wink. “She’s not kidding. As much as I love her, she’s not at all photogenic.”
“He’s right. That’s exactly what my mom used to say when I’d bring those school pictures home.”
“Besides, I want them to be surprised by her inner beauty, as well.” Adam sent a man-in-love look toward his beloved. “Once they meet her, I know they’ll fall in love with her instantly, just like I did.”
Jewel smiled shyly. “Don’t listen to him, Tavia. He’s a real flatterer, but I love every minute of it.”
Adam glanced in his side mirror before continuing. “We talked about getting married earlier, but my parents want to throw us a big spring wedding.”
Tavia frowned. “You mean you’re not living together?”
“We’re both kinda old-fashioned, I guess. We’re both Christians, and didn’t feel it was right to just move in together like many of our friends have done. In fact, we’ve even had separate motel rooms on our trip here.”
“I’m sure your parents are happy about that.”
“Oh, yes,” Adam volunteered, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. “But they’re a pretty romantic pair themselves, even after being together nearly twenty-eight years.”
Tavia wished she had someone who loved her as much as Adam appeared to love Jewel. His devotion for her was written all over his smiling face.
Jewel reached across and cupped Adam’s cheek with her palm, her hand caressing his face. “Although we really wanted to get married right away, we talked it over and decided since we are committing our lives to each other and this was going to be our one and only wedding, we wanted to do it up right.”
Tavia eyed the woman suspiciously. “You’re not—”
“Pregnant? Oh, my, no!” Jewel gave her head a firm shake. “But we do plan to have children—someday. Adam’s parents have his little baby bed stored in their attic, along with his high chair and his stroller. Our children might use the very same things their father used when he was a baby. Won’t that be sweet?”
“Hopefully, we can start a family a year or so after I graduate,” Adam added.
“I hope so, too.” Jewel pinched Adam’s arm affectionately. “From what Adam’s parents have told me on the phone, they want to invite all theirs and Adam’s friends and business acquaintances to our wedding. Do the big church thing, with the huge reception. His mother and I are going to have a blast planning it.”
Adam gave her a quick sideways look of adoration. It was obvious he was crazy about her.
“How about your parents, Jewel?” Tavia asked. “Are they disappointed you aren’t going to have your wedding in Tennessee?” As soon as she spoke, Tavia wished she hadn’t asked the woman such a personal question. What business was it of hers?
“Jewel doesn’t have any family,” Adam answered, even though Tavia’s question had been directed toward her. “Her mom and dad were killed in a car wreck when she was a senior in high school. Other than a couple of distant relatives she hasn’t heard from in years, she’s pretty much alone.”
Jewel lowered her head and blinked hard. “It was a terrible time for me. We’d been so close that for a while I wished I were dead, too. I had great parents.”
“Having family around you, family who loves you and who you can depend on, must be a wonderful thing. I wish I’d been that lucky.” Tavia’s heart went out to her.
Jewel’s face brightened. “Well, I have a family now. I have Adam and his parents.”
“And they’re going to love you as much as I do, honey.” Adam lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’ll see. Mom’s always wanted a daughter. Now she has one.”
“I’m so anxious to meet Adam’s parents,” Jewel said. “I’ve missed being a part of a family these past three years. Mr. and Mrs. Flint are lovely, caring people. I’ve received such sweet letters from them, besides talking to them on the phone. They’ve told me so many cute things about this man I’m going to marry. They even told me about the time he—”
Over Adam’s half-joking protestations, Jewel began. “Adam’s parents had just moved into their new home and they invited everyone from their church to come to an open house. His mother spent all morning in the kitchen, making her famous cherry chocolate brownies as the main dessert. Just before their guests were due to arrive, she added the final touches to each of her beautiful brownies—a huge dollop of freshly whipped cream and one perfect, maraschino cherry, then carried the huge silver trays into the dining room and placed them on the beautifully set table. She lit the candles, then closed the dining room doors, planning to keep her lovely table and all its goodies out of sight until everyone arrived.”
Adam reached across with a good-humored frown and tapped Jewel’s shoulder. “Okay, sweetheart, this is your last chance. You’d better quit while you’re ahead or I’ll tell my story, too.”
“Too late, Adam. I’ve already started my story. I have to finish.”
Tavia glanced out the side window. Already, the sun had disappeared behind the mountain range. It was great that this couple had been kind enough to give her a ride, but what was she going to do when they let her out?
“Anyway, when it came time to serve the refreshments, Adam’s mother proudly threw open the dining room door—and let out a scream!”
Tavia gasped. “Why? What had happened?”
Jewel let out an animated laugh. “Someone had removed every single cherry and had run a finger through each dollop of whipped cream, stringing it all over the brownies!”
“Not Adam!”
“Yes, Adam. My prim and proper Adam!” Jewel nodded.
Adam gave her a menacing glare, though his eyes showed it was only in jest. “I’ll get you for this, Miss Blabbermouth.”
“But that’s not all,” Jewel went on. “In the resultant shocked silence, they heard a terrible moaning and groaning coming from the bathroom at the head of the stairs. Adam’s parents rushed up to see what it was, and there was Adam—his little hands resting on the sides of the toilet seat and he was—”
Adam reached across and cupped his palm over Jewel’s mouth. “I think she gets the picture, Jewel. You needn’t go into any more detail.”
Peeking over his hand, Jewel’s eyes glittered with amusement. Tavia couldn’t contain her laughter. In her mind’s eye, she could see the scene Jewel had described.
Finally, Adam took his hand away. “Sorry, Tavia, sometimes my fiancée is a bit over the top.”
“Okay, you win, Adam,” Jewel said, smiling at him, “I won’t give her all the gory details, but I will tell her to this day you refuse maraschino cherries and whipped cream. On anything!”
Adam glanced at Tavia in the rearview mirror. “My turn now.”
“Don’t believe a word he says, Tavia,” Jewel cautioned, patting her fiancé’s cheek. “He has a tendency to exaggerate things.”
Adam sent her a good-natured frown. “Me? You’re the one who exaggerates.”
“I only embellish a good story, dear. There’s a difference!”
How Tavia longed to have this kind of relationship with a man, but it never seemed to happen to her. She met few men as warm and friendly as Adam.
“Embellish? That’s what you call it?” Adam checked the traffic to his right and changed lanes before going on. “Okay, Tavia. Let me tell you about this woman. She actually stalked me from the first time she saw me.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it stalking.” Jewel settled herself back into the seat. “But I did think you were adorable, and I wanted to meet you.”
“I hate to brag,” Adam went on, “but I’m a pretty good ice skater. I’ve been skating since I was in junior high. Though I didn’t skate much during my first three years at college, the apartment I moved into at the end of my junior year was just down the street from a skating rink. I figured, rather than go to the student union and bowl or work out, skating would be a great way to get some exercise, and I started going every Friday and Saturday night. One Friday night, as I was skating along, doing some fancy footwork and minding my own business, this pretty gal skates right across in front of me and falls down!” He gave Jewel a wink. “So? What’s a gentleman supposed to do? I stopped to make sure she was okay, then helped her up. She’d skinned her knee a bit, so I took her arm and skated her to the front of the rink and offered to buy her a cup of hot cocoa.”
“I took him up on it immediately!”
Tavia had to laugh at the look on Jewel’s face as she spoke.
“Anyway,” he went on, “after she finished her cocoa, I asked the lady at the concession stand for a little bandage to put on her knee and helped her to where she’d left her jacket and shoes.”
“Then what?” This was like a Cinderella story and Tavia was eager to hear the rest.
“I have to admit she was pretty cute, so I hung around until she came back out onto the ice, then asked her to skate with me when the rink’s announcer called for a couples-only skate. She hung on to my arm like she was afraid she was going to fall down again, and she kept telling me what a wonderful skater I was.”
Tavia clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s such a sweet story.”
“Hey, that’s not all of it. She showed up at the rink again the next night and batted those baby blues at me. Of course, I asked her to skate again, and again she clung tightly to my arm. I figured she must have just started skating and I wanted to do everything I could to help her, so I put my arm around her as we skated, to help steady her. By the end of the evening, she had me under her spell. From that moment on, I never even looked at another girl.”
Tavia leaned forward, placing her hand on his shoulder. “That is such a romantic story, Adam. Thank you for telling it to me.”
Adam caught her reflection in the mirror. “Hey, there’s more.”
“There’s more?”
“Yes. Six months later, Jewel confessed to me she’d learned to skate when she was in high school! That woman had been stalking me for several weeks, trying to figure out a way to meet me, before she came up with that idea of falling down in front of me! She was nearly as good a skater as me!”
Tavia turned to Jewel and gasped. “You didn’t!”
“Oh, but I did, and it worked. Look what happened! I’m engaged to the guy!”
“You are both lucky to have found each other. Adam, I’m sure your parents are going to love Jewel when they finally get to meet her.”
“Adam has told me so much about them. I think his mother and I must be a lot alike. Even though Adam and his father hate rhubarb, she’s as crazy about it as I am. We both hate scary movies and cry at sad ones and we both love to read in bed. He says his mother always has a stack of romance novels on her nightstand, waiting to be read.” Jewel brushed a lock of hair from her face and anchored it behind one ear. “How about your family, Tavia? You said that man back there was your boyfriend. Or should I say a new acquaintance? I guess that means you’re not married.”
“No, I’m not.” Tavia stared out the window, the pain of her past as vivid as if it were yesterday. “I—I don’t have a family, either. My mom died of cancer when I was two. I don’t remember her at all.”
“Your father raised you?”
“My dad drank himself to death when I was seven. I was sent to live with an aunt and uncle I’d never met. They really didn’t want me. When I was sixteen, I ran away. I’ve been on my own ever since. End of sad story.”
Jewel’s eyes grew round. “And now this has happened to you? You poor thing! And I thought I had it bad, losing my parents like I did.”
Adam smiled over the seat at Tavia. “Sorry. I had no idea what you’ve gone through. I’m glad we stopped to help you.”
“Me, too,” Tavia responded, wondering what would have happened to her if this nice couple hadn’t come along.
“Adam’s going to be a doctor, like his father,” Jewel announced proudly, as if wanting to change the subject for their passenger’s sake. “Only he’s going to be an ob/gyn. His father specializes in dermatology.”
“A doctor? That’ll be nice,” Tavia answered, not exactly sure what an ob/gyn did. She cast an embarrassed glance over her shabby jeans and her simple print shirt—clothes she’d bought at the Goodwill store. Rich parents, a new SUV, beautiful clothes. A good future ahead of them. This nice couple has it made and what do I have? Nothing. Absolutely nothing but bills I can’t pay and a lousy job I’m about to lose.
Adam flipped on the turn signal and moved back into the inside lane. “I sure hope you’ll be able to get someone to come after you soon.”
“I hope so, too.” Although Tavia was grateful for the ride, she knew she had no choice but to try to hitch another lift into Denver from wherever they’d leave her off. There really wasn’t anyone to call. Not anyone she trusted to show up, and she certainly didn’t have any money for a motel. The waitress she worked with at the café had three kids to support and didn’t even have a car. The woman who lived next door to her was probably too drunk to answer the phone. Her landlord was even less trustworthy than the man who’d let her out on the roadside. Her boss at the video store where she worked part-time was already on the verge of firing her. She’d never call him.
“You do have someone to call, don’t you?” Jewel prodded, noticing her hesitation.
“Ah—yeah. I’ll just keep calling that woman I tried to reach on your cell phone until she gets home. You can just drop me off anywhere. I’ll be fine.”
Jewel took off her seat belt to pick up her purse from the floor. She pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Here, take this. You’ll need money for the pay phone and to get a bite to eat while you’re waiting.”
Tavia ignored her offer and turned her head away. “No, I couldn’t. You’ve already done more for me than most people would.”
“I insist.”
“Yeah,” Adam chimed in, “go ahead and take it. You’ll need it.”
Tavia was tempted to reach for it. She really did need it, but pulled her hand away. “Only if you’ll let me mail it back to you when I get my next paycheck.”
Jewel reached the money out to her again. “I have a better idea. Next time you see someone in need, you give them a ten-dollar bill and we’ll call it square. Okay? You can even put it in the Salvation Army pot at Christmas if you’d rather.”
Tavia stared at the bill. No doubt there would be a long-distance charge if she could figure out someone to call. Smiling, she accepted it, folded it carefully and stuck it into her pocket.
Beck Brewster gave a big yawn as he leaned back in the seat and stretched first one long arm, then the other. He’d been on the road for nearly seven hours now and his back was beginning to feel it. He set the brake on his eighteen-wheeler, grabbed his coffee mug and climbed down from the cab.
Another eighteen-wheeler, much like his, pulled into the Colorado rest-stop parking lot and swung into the stall beside Beck’s. The driver gave him a wave, then shoved open his door and dropped down to the pavement. “Hiya, Brewster. Didn’t expect to run into you today. How goes it?”
“Hey, yourself, Matt. Where ya headed?”
The man shielded his eyes from the brilliant afternoon sun with one hand. “Littleton. Where you headed?”
Beck pulled a pack of gum from his pocket, took out a stick, and offered the pack to the man. “Headed back to Denver. Hope to drop my load and be in my own bed by ten o’clock tonight. Boy, I hate sleeping in motels. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. Of course, sleeping in the cab is even worse.”
“I’m having a bit of trouble with my windshield wipers.” Matt shook his head with a laugh as he gestured upward. “But from the looks of that cloudless sky, I don’t think it’ll be a problem to make it on into Littleton without them.”
Beck nodded and glanced skyward. “You’re probably right. Sure hope I make it okay.”
“Oh? Why?”
Beck placed his mug on the step and began examining the brake lines. “Nothing, I hope. I just have this strange feeling. I hate going through these mountains with a full load. I always worry about the brakes holding. And the noise those Jake brakes make gives me the willies. Guess I’m a natural worrier.”
“Bet you carry a rabbit’s foot, too.”
Beck shook his head. “I didn’t say I was superstitious, just a worrier. There’s a big difference.”
“Well, unfortunately, we have to depend on the guys who do the maintenance on these babies, but they seem to know their job. I sure wouldn’t be much help to them. I barely know a flywheel from a crankshaft,” Matt said. “I need to hit the walking trail and stretch my legs a bit before I leave. The old bones ain’t what they used to be, and I wanna rinse out my mug and get some pop from the pop machine.”
Beck gave the man a mock salute. “Then I’ll see you around. I’d wait until you’re ready to go and follow you on down but I wanna keep on schedule. Drive safe.”
“You, too. I’ll probably see you next week.”
“Yep. Catch you later.”
The two men shook hands, then Beck headed off.
“Boy, I hate driving through these mountains.”
Jewel smiled at Adam. “I’d offer to drive, but I know he wouldn’t let me.”
“Hey, even though I’ve driven this road all my life, I still worry about it.”
Jewel poked Adam’s ribs playfully. “I don’t know why. You’re a great driver.”
Adam gave her a boyish smile. “Keep that flattery coming!”
“Your ring is beautiful,” Tavia told Jewel as the woman relaxed her hand across the seat back. She’d never seen such a beautiful ring, or such large stones.
Jewel’s face beamed with pride. “It was Adam’s mother’s engagement ring. His dad bought her a new set for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. So when they learned we were engaged, they wanted me to have her engagement ring.”
“We’d planned to come home this past Christmas, but the day we were to leave Jewel came down with the flu and I had to come on and leave her behind. I knew it would kill my folks if I didn’t spend Christmas with them. I brought Mom’s ring back with me and gave it to her.”
“You’re so lucky to have found each other,” Tavia said sincerely as she looked from one to the other. They were a handsome couple, and it was obvious they adored one another. She’d never had anyone look at her the way Adam looked at Jewel. And she probably never would. The kind of guys she met were definitely not the romantic type. How had she ever let that creep talk her into going for a drive up in the mountains with him? She should’ve known he’d put the make on her. The crumb-bum. Well, she’d learned her lesson. Next time, she’d be more careful.
Jewel slipped the ring off her finger. “Wanna try it on?”
Tavia stared at her in amazement. “Me? Try on your ring? Goodness, no!”
“Oh, come on. It’ll make your hand look really pretty.”
Tavia backed away and folded her arms over her chest. “I couldn’t. With my luck, I might lose it or something.”
“In the car?” Jewel let out a chuckle. “Even if you dropped it, I’m sure we could find it! Here, try it on. I promise it’ll make you feel like a queen.”
“I—I don’t know—”
“Ah, go on,” Adam cajoled. “That stubborn woman of mine won’t give you a minute’s peace if you don’t try it on. She even had the maid who cleaned our rooms try that ring on.”
“Well—if you’re sure—” Tavia reached out, took the sparkling ring from Jewel’s hand and slipped it onto her finger, sure this was the closest she’d ever come to wearing such a beautiful and expensive ring.
Jewel gave her a big smile. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”
Tavia held out her hand, gazing at the huge stones. “Your engagement ring is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. You’re right! It does make you feel like a queen.”
“You should have seen Adam propose.” Jewel jabbed at her fiancé’s shoulder. “He was so cute. He—”
“Hang on!” Adam’s face suddenly grew serious. “There’s a big eighteen-wheeler coming up fast behind us. I hope the guy’s smart enough not to try to pass us on this curve.”
Chapter Two
Beck hated this stretch of road. The grade at this point through the Rockies was exceptionally steep. He glanced at his watch. No trouble, he’d make his deadline in plenty of time.
Noticing an SUV in front of him, the fancy top-of-the-line kind with leather seats, big tires and a little pickup bed in the back, he smiled. Instead of numbers, the license tag read Adams-Toy. Pretty expensive toy, I’d say! He eased down on the brake.
But nothing happened.
What’s wrong, Baby? The dependable truck he’d been driving for the past three years didn’t respond. A feeling of panic crept through him and he hit the brakes again. Not too hard. From his years of experience, he knew if he pressed them too suddenly they might lock and that could spell disaster. Ignoring his efforts, the truck continued to move forward as if it had a mind of its own, its immense weight propelling it onward faster and faster as it descended the hill. His heart quickened with fear and trepidation as a cold sweat dampened his forehead. God, do something! Please do something!
The sudden blaring of the truck’s air horn caused all eyes to turn in its direction.
“I think the guy’s lost his brakes!” Adam gasped, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
Terror seized Tavia’s heart as she watched the on-coming truck through the rear window. “He’s going to hit us! I know he is!”
“Adam! Pull off the road and let him by!” Jewel’s shrill voice echoed through the inside of the truck.
“I’m trying!” Adam screamed back, “but the embankment is too steep! We’ll flip over!”
Tavia wanted to watch, to make sure Adam would be able to get off the road in time, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed on the rapidly approaching truck, sure they were all going to die.
Beck geared down, but the truck continued to barrel forward, ever closer to the SUV.
He’d lost control.
Forty tons of steel hurtled forward of its own volition like a heat-seeking missile, and there was nothing he could do about it but watch and pray.
Beck stared through the windshield at the fancy SUV just seconds ahead of him on the road. I sounded my horn. Why doesn’t the guy pull over? Try to get out of my way? He has to see me!
He sounded the horn again then glanced at the radio. What good would calling for help do? No one could help him now. He was all alone in the cab with a full load, careening totally out of control. He knew there’d be an emergency turn-off ramp down the road a couple of miles. He’d seen it hundreds of times. If it wasn’t for that SUV in front of him, he might be able to make it there.
“Get out of the way! Move it!” he screamed out at the top of his lungs as he gave a long, loud blare of his horn and waved one arm frantically across the windshield. “Dear Lord! Don’t let those innocent people die because of me! Help me!” he shouted out.
It’s too late! The realization struck him like a sucker punch as they rounded a curve. “If I hit these people, they won’t have a chance!”
He watched in horror as the distance between the two vehicles lessened, feeling helpless to do anything now but continue to hope and pray—no more in control than a mere spectator.
The brakes still weren’t taking hold.
Even the Jake brake wasn’t helping.
“Move it!” Beck yelled as he flailed his hand wildly across the windshield again. “Go left! Cross the road! Take the ditch! Take the ditch!”
The SUV made a slight move to the left, then a wild swing to the right, as if the driver was out of control and trying to compensate, then left again, but it was too late.
Much too late.
Beck white-knuckled the steering wheel as the truck rammed into the back of the vehicle, shoving it along as if it were a mere toy. He wanted to close his eyes, to pretend it wasn’t happening, but it was and he had a front row seat. Within seconds, his bumper was crushing the SUV’s rear end as easily as if it were a paper cup. The ugly sounds of the screeching Jake brake and crunching metal were deafening to his ears.
Beck clutched the steering wheel, holding on for dear life as his huge bumper pushed the mass of twisted metal down the road ahead of him, unable to do anything but ride it out and blame himself for going ahead and driving the truck after he’d suspected a problem. Although he could no longer see the passengers, he knew they must be in total panic.
The SUV continued to veer to the right, coming closer and closer to the edge of the road and the guardrail that edged itself along the deep gorge, the truck’s heavy bumper twisting the vehicle’s rear end around to the front like a bump-em car at a carnival. Beck maintained his death-grip hold on the steering wheel as if just by squeezing it he could regain some sense of domination.
But it didn’t work.
He gulped in a breath of air and released one hand long enough to wipe the sweat from his eyes. That guardrail would never hold!
While casting a hurried glance into the rearview mirror, Beck felt the cab begin to shift. Just as he’d suspected, the deadweight of the loaded trailer began to drift sideways, pulling him with it. “Oh, God, no! Don’t let it jackknife!” he yelled out, knowing nothing short of a miracle from God Himself would keep this from happening. The SUV was in the truck’s clutches, going wherever the eighteen-wheeler wanted to take it.
“Oh, Lord, if they go over the side, they won’t have a chance! Don’t let it happen! Please! Don’t let it happen!”
A shower of sparks shot into the air as high as Beck’s windshield as the SUV smashed sideways into the guardrail, still being scooted along at breakneck speed by the cab’s massive bumper.
Beck gasped in horror as the passenger in the back seat was hurled through a window into the air, tossed along the edge of the guardrail like a rag doll being discarded by an uninterested child.
He felt bile rise in his throat and thought he was going to vomit. “No! No! This can’t be happening!” If only he could do something!
Watching in what felt like slow motion, what he’d feared the most happened.
The guardrail gave way.
With nothing to stop it, the battered and beaten SUV straddled the rocky ledge for only a few feet, then plummeted into the deep canyon below.
Though nearly out of his mind with grief and guilt, and taking time for only a quick glance over the canyon’s rim, Beck continued to fight the truck as it rapidly cascaded down the descending road toward the turnout.
Then, as if it had taken on a mind of its own, the truck made a sudden swerve to the left, crossed the road and headed for the rocky embankment. That was the last thing Beck remembered.
Tavia couldn’t breathe. Something was filling her mouth and nostrils. She felt herself drifting in a swirling pit of darkness. Where am I? Why can’t I breathe? My head is pounding. Black. Everything black. Am I dead? Am I in hell?
Slowly, she tried to open her eyes, but the intense pain made it impossible, so she lay motionless instead, trying to put things together, staring at the blackness and the wisps of light that seemed to come and go in fleeting, erratic shafts.
“I think she’s coming around,” a female voice said. “I’m almost certain she blinked.”
“I hope so. They’ve been so worried about her,” another answered.
She felt a hand on her arm, shaking her gently. Hurt. I hurt.
“Can you hear me? If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”
Can’t open them. They hurt. My head hurts. My chest hurts. Arm.
“She’s got to be all right,” a man’s voice interjected. “I’m not sure that woman would make it if they lost her, too.”
I hear you, I hear you. Tavia wanted to shout out the words, but they wouldn’t come. Only darkness and those weird streaks of light. I hear you, she said within herself as she drifted off into the shadowy abyss of her mind and everything slowly faded away.
Beck checked the clock on the Boulder Community Hospital wall for the fifth time in the past five minutes. 8:30 p.m. He stared at his breakfast. He’d asked the nurse to leave his tray. He knew he ought to eat. His body would heal better with proper nutrition, but he wasn’t hungry. His every thought was centered on the woman on the third floor. When he’d asked the nurse to check on her, she had told him she was in a coma. What a tragedy. If only he could have avoided the accident. He’d never be able to forget her face. He’d even dreamt about it. Dreamt about those big, round blue eyes staring up at him through the rear window of that oversize SUV. Would he have that same dream every night for the rest of his life?
He’d lain awake for hours after that dream, reliving every second, wondering if he could have done anything differently to avoid that accident. But he’d been trained for situations like that. He’d done everything by the book. No one could have done more than he had. But if that were true, why was he carrying so much guilt?
He had to go to her room, to see for himself if she had awakened from the coma. After persuading one of the nurses to get him a wheelchair, Beck headed for the third floor.
He rolled his chair up beside her bed and sat staring at the small portion of the woman’s face that wasn’t covered by a bandage. Just seeing her arm secured by a removable cast, a tube going down her throat, and listening to the incessant beep, beep, beeping of the machines, made his heart fill with agony. Lord, spare this woman’s life. Don’t take her from these people who love her. They’ve already lost their son. Don’t take his fiancée, too! And, please, God, I need Your touch. Not for my broken leg or the cut on my head. Those will heal in time. I need You to take away this terrible feeling of guilt. I know Dr. and Mrs. Flint don’t hold me responsible for the death of their son—I did all I could—but, because of me and the failure of the brakes on my truck, their son is dead and this young woman is lying here in a coma!
“You’d better get back to your room,” the nurse on duty told him a half hour later as she entered the room and adjusted the drip on the IV. “You’ve been here longer than you should have, considering your own condition.”
He inched his chair closer to the bed, his eyes still riveted on its still occupant. “Just a few more minutes? Please?”
The nurse placed her hand on her hip, her voice showing concern. “You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal yourself, and you’ve still got quite a knot on that head. How is the leg doing?”
“I’m okay.” He gestured toward the bed. “It’s her I’m worried about.”
She gave him a frown. “We’re all worried about her.”
The woman lying in the bed suddenly let out a stifled cough, then seemed to gag. Beck lunged forward, not sure what he could do to help. Was she coming out of the coma?
The nurse put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right. Folks do that sometimes when they’re in a coma. It’s nothing to worry about.”
He leaned back in the chair and rubbed at his forehead, for a moment nearly forgetting about the swelling and the stitches. “It’s a miracle she’s alive. If you’d seen that—”
She waggled a finger at him. “You have to try to put that out of your mind, Mr. Brewster. It’s not good for you to dwell on it. You need to concentrate on getting well.”
“Please, let me stay a little longer.” He shifted in the chair, his leg muscles reminding him of the excessive amount of stress and strain he’d put on them, pressing the pedal and trying to get the brakes to take hold.
She tilted her head with a scowl. “I shouldn’t let you stay.”
“I know, but she might wake up, so I want to be here.”
After a glance at her watch, she shrugged. “Oh, all right. Fifteen minutes more, but that’s it. Her family is down in the cafeteria. They’ll be back any time now. The doctor said only two visitors in the room at a time. No more.”
“I’ll leave when they get here.” Beck gave her a nod and a smile of thanks before turning his interest back to the still form of the injured woman. Gazing at what little of her face was showing, he wondered what she really looked like. It was hard to tell with all the bandages and that tube. He could barely see the color of her hair. Was she young? Old? Short? Tall? He’d caught only a brief glimpse of her as she’d stared up at him out that back window. All he could remember about her was the terror he’d seen in her eyes.
“Wake up. Please, wake up,” he pleaded as he reached out and carefully touched her arm. “If I could, I’d gladly trade places with you.”
Except for the constant beeping of the machines, the room remained silent.
He gently stroked her swollen hand. “I’m—I’m so sorry. If it weren’t for me—”
“You can’t blame yourself, Beck.”
Startled, he pulled his hand away and turned toward the voice. “Hello, Dr. Flint. H—how’s your wife doing?”
The man raised a hand to his brow, his forehead creasing with concern. “Not so good. She’s not in good health anyway, and this whole thing hit her pretty hard. Both of us. She’ll be here in a minute. She stopped at the ladies’ room to freshen up.”
The quiver in the man’s voice went straight to Beck’s heart.
Dr. Flint moved to the opposite side of the bed and, through misty eyes, stared quietly at the bandaged face.
“If it weren’t for me, your son—”
James Flint put a cautioning finger to his lips, then said in a low whisper, “Shh. We have to be careful what we say around her. The doctor said sometimes, even though people are in a coma, they claim later they could hear what was being said in the room. We don’t want her to know about him until the doctor says she’s ready and can handle it. I’ve already warned Annie to be careful about what she says.”
Beck nodded.
The two men moved to the foot of the bed and continued their conversation in hushed tones. “You can’t go on blaming yourself, Beck. It wasn’t your fault. Both my wife and I realize that. From what the sheriff told us of his ongoing investigation, you did the best you could to get that truck stopped. In fact, the sheriff said it looked as if the accident could have been a whole lot worse if you hadn’t maneuvered that truck to the side of the road like you did. I’m just glad you remembered Adam’s license plate so they could trace it and let us know what happened. I’d bought that SUV for him as an early graduation present, so it was still registered in my name. I’d even had those silly words, Adam’s toy, put on that plate.”
Beck stared at the motionless figure in the bed. He had done all he could, but it hadn’t been enough. A young man in the prime of his life had died, and a woman lay badly injured and in a coma. He almost felt embarrassed to be alive. Why God had spared his sorry life and taken theirs he’d never understand. At least, not until he met his Savior face-to-face and could ask Him. He tried to speak, but his throat tightened and held his words captive.
Dr. Flint placed his hand on Beck’s shoulder, pausing as if to get control of his emotions before going on. “From what the sheriff said about the looks of that truck of yours, I’d say you were lucky to get out of it alive.” He gestured toward the woman in the bed. “Good thing she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. If she’d had it on, she might not have been thrown out the window and ended up in that—”
“I’m concerned about your wife, Dr. Flint.” Beck blinked hard, his own emotions about to get the better of him, too.
“Annie hasn’t slept a wink since—well, you know. Her cardiologist checked her over this morning before we came to the hospital. Her heart is as weak as ever, and he’s worried about the strain all of this has put on her. We have to keep a close watch on her and protect her as much as possible.” He motioned toward Tavia. “I think all that’s kept Annie going is the sweet little girl lying in that bed. The two of us can’t understand why God would take our Adam, but we’re so thankful He didn’t take Adam’s fiancée, too.”
Beck gazed at the woman, trying to imagine what her face would look like without the contortions of fear he’d seen on it. “I’ll bet she’s as pretty as her name.”
“I—I don’t know.” The man frowned as he gazed at the bandaged face. “Our son thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but my wife and I have never met her.”
Beck stared up at him, confused by his words. “You’ve never met her?”
“No, she and Adam had recently become engaged, but we hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet. That’s why he was bringing her home. I couldn’t even tell the hospital if she had insurance, but once I told them I’d be responsible for her bills if she didn’t, and signed a few papers, they were appeased.”
Beck let out a deep sigh. “Seems sad that a hospital would be concerned about getting their money when someone is injured.”
“I know, but as a doctor, I understand. Hospital care is expensive. Someone has to pay the bill.”
“You have seen pictures of your son’s fiancée, haven’t you?”
Dr. Flint shook his head. “Actually, no, I haven’t. I just hope her face—” The man stopped midsentence, his eyes once again gazing at the still figure. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. The CAT scan showed no brain damage. That’s a good sign. The doctor said they’re evaluating her neuro status every couple of hours. She’s responding to stimulation. Her pupils are equal and reactive to light. We have to keep trusting God to answer our prayers.”
“It scared me when she sort of gagged and coughed, but the nurse said that’s okay.”
“Yes, that’s normal. I guess if I had a tube going down my throat, I’d gag, too.”
A trim, haggard-looking woman in her late fifties moved slowly into the room, her face showing evidence of the many tears she’d shed. Though she offered him a weak smile, Beck could tell it was with great effort. He knew, first-hand, there hadn’t been anything in her life the past twenty-four hours that would cause a genuine smile. “Hello, Mrs. Flint.”
James Flint leaned close to his wife and whispered, “Remember, we have to watch what we say around her. She may be able to hear us.”
She nodded. “How are you doing, Beck?”
“I’m okay, Mrs. Flint.”
Annie Flint’s husband’s arms circled her and pulled her close. “I was just telling Beck that Adam and Jewel were engaged.”
Annie leaned into her husband, her eyes overflowing with fresh tears. “They were so happy.”
The tremor in her voice tore at Beck, pulling at his heart and bringing back his penitent feelings of responsibility.
James shrugged and pulled her even closer, his whisper cracking with emotion, “I’m just thankful Jewel was spared.”
Annie pulled away from her husband and moved to the bed, touching her almost-daughter-in-law’s arm. “She has to be special. Our Adam loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her.” She whirled around quickly and pressed her face into her husband’s chest as deep, uncontrolled sobs racked at her body. “Oh, J-James! This is so hard! Why would God take our son?”
A shrill beeping sent the room’s occupants into sudden panic.
Chapter Three
Voices.
I hear voices and some sort of sound. A beeping sound.
Tavia tried to concentrate, but her fuzzy brain wouldn’t allow it. No matter how hard she tried to zero in on the distant noises, they drifted in and out like a radio station whose signal was being lost. She struggled to open her eyes but nothing happened. It was as if she was in a deep, deep pit, with no control and no way out. She even tried to scream, to call out to someone—anyone, but her vocal cords remained still, her commands not getting through to them. Help me! Someone help me!
Do they even know I’m here? If I can’t see them, does that mean they can’t see me? Oh, where am I?
Carefully pushing every other thought from her mind, she tried to listen to the voices, but the sounds were getting weaker and weaker. No matter how hard she willed herself to hang on, she felt herself slipping deeper and deeper into the pit. No! I want to stay here. I have to hang on. But to what? There’s nothing to grip. No handles. No rung on the ladder.
“There’s no need for concern,” she heard a woman’s voice say through the haze circulating in her mind. “It’s time to change her IV, that’s all.”
Tavia willed herself to tighten her grip on the walls, clinging to them frantically. She listened, but again the words were drifting in and out. She felt herself falling— going backward, spinning out of control. What would happen if she hit bottom? Everything was dark—so dark. She hated the darkness. Nearly everything bad that had ever happened to her had happened in the darkness.
“Go back to your room, Beck. You need to get some rest.”
Beck? Who is Beck? Tavia struggled to find something solid to hang on to—something to stop her fall. Though they were faint now, she could still hear the voices, but it was impossible to make out the words. Beck, Beck, Beck. She repeated the word over and over in her head until the pit claimed her once more.
“Annie and I are going to stay for a while.”
Beck gave James a dubious look. “Are you sure she’s up to it?”
“She’s out of her mind with grief—we both are—but she insisted on coming here today.”
Beck grabbed on to the wheels on the side of his chair and spun himself around. “I promised the nurse I’d leave as soon as you two got here. You will let me know if there’s any change, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course. You know we will.” James motioned downward. “By the way, that leg bothering you much? I see you wince now and then.”
“It’s doing okay. My injuries are nothing compared to hers. With those pins holding it together, the doc said it should be fine.”
“How about the bump on your head?”
Beck’s fingers touched the stitches holding together the split in his forehead. “Still sore, but it’s the least of my worries. I just want this leg to get well so I can drive again. Driving is all I know.”
He lingered long enough to take one last look at the still figure in the bed. Why did he have the strange feeling she was reaching out to him? He’d never even met the woman, yet he’d never forget those frightened eyes as they’d peered up at him through that window. He’d seen many a frightened deer mesmerized by his truck’s powerful headlights, but none had worn the look of sheer panic she’d had as she’d stared up at him. Those eyes had pleaded for help. He hadn’t been able to do a thing for her, and it had nearly killed him. In fact, he almost wished he’d died in the accident. Anything would be better than knowing his truck had killed a man, and injured this woman nearly to the point of death. Even if she made it, what would her life—
“Mr. Brewster? I’ll help you if you’re ready to go.”
He turned quickly to find one of the nurse’s aides holding on to the handle grips on his wheelchair. “Sure. Yes, thanks. I’m ready.”
“You can’t let this consume you, Beck.” James Flint released his hold on his wife and moved to Beck’s side. “Perhaps it’d be best if you stayed away for a few days, worked on getting yourself well. I’m afraid the time you spend here is depressing you, and that can’t be good for you.”
Beck stole another quick glance toward the tiny patch of skin showing beneath the heavy bandage. “Sir, I hope you’ll allow me to keep coming. I—I can’t go on with my life until I know she’s—”
James cleared his throat nervously, then motioned the nurse’s aide to roll Beck to the door, whispering so only Beck could hear, “I didn’t want to say too much in front of Annie, but there’s no telling how long Jewel may stay in that coma, and we—we may lose her yet, unless God intervenes. There’s always the chance of complications.”
Beck swallowed at his emotions. “I pray for her constantly. God can’t let her die.”
Joining them near the door, Annie wiped at her tears and circled her arms around her husband’s waist, her face drawn and red from crying. “None of this makes any sense. I want my Adam back! He was too young to die. I don’t understand why God, a God of love, would take him! Or why he would allow Jewel to be so severely injured.”
James stroked his wife’s back, his own eyes filling with tears. “I don’t, either, sweetheart. I’m as angry about this as you. I’m sure God understands our anger.”
Beck grimaced. “I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is on the two of you. Even knowing God and being able to turn to Him, I’m having a hard time, too.”
“Hopefully, we’ll understand it by and by. We have to keep trusting Him, Beck, and keep praying for our little girl.” James nodded to the nurse’s aide. “Make sure this man takes care of himself.”
The woman smiled and began to maneuver the wheelchair across the room.
Beck glanced back over his shoulder as she moved him into the hall. “Remember—if there’s any change…”
James smiled. “If there’s any change, we’ll come after you.”
Beck rode silently through the long, sterile halls, his mind fixated on Jewel Flint. Surely, since the CAT scan didn’t show any serious damage or swelling, she’d come out of that coma soon. What a shock it was going to be to wake up and find Adam had died.
He waved off the nurse’s aide and struggled to pull himself onto his bed when they reached his room. He wasn’t used to having anyone do things for him. He’d always been that way. His dad had been a military man and had treated his family like soldiers in his platoon. Stand up straight. Speak only when you’re spoken to. Make sure you can bounce a dime off that bed when you make it. Keep those shoes shined. Say “sir” when you speak to me. He could recite hundreds of commands his father had enforced. But, looking back, none of those things had hurt him or his siblings. They’d all turned out to be a pretty good, independent bunch of kids. All five of them.
“Ready for a pain pill?” the nurse who’d just come into his room asked. “I see on your chart your doctor has prescribed them for you but you haven’t been taking them.”
He shook his head. “Don’t need them. Thanks.”
His body felt as if it needed them. Everything ached, but he wasn’t about to take any pills that weren’t absolutely necessary. He’d heard too many horror stories about guys getting hooked on them, and he wasn’t going to be one of them. His livelihood was driving a truck. Besides, pain pills couldn’t stop those big round eyes from haunting him.
“Well, it’s up to you. Let us know if you change your mind.” The nurse placed the chart on the nightstand and moved to take his vitals.
He watched in silence. “Think I’ll make it?” he asked with a shy grin when she finally finished and picked up a pen to write the information on his chart.
“What do you think?”
“I think I’ll feel a whole lot better when I get out of here and can walk normally again.”
Tavia struggled though the mist, reaching upward with all her might. She had to get out of that dark pit before it consumed her. What was that noise? A swishing of some kind. Suddenly she felt warm. She’d been so cold, now she felt warm. Why?
“Well, little lady, is this going to be the day you come back to us? I’ve opened the blinds. Can you feel the sunlight on your face? It’s a beautiful day outside. Clear. Crisp. How about a nice warm washcloth on your face? How would that feel?”
Tavia could hear the sound of running water and someone humming, then footsteps shuffling across a floor. “As soon as we get you all cleaned up, I’ll rub some nice lotion on you. Would you like that? Oh, by the way, that man in the wheelchair was here again this morning. He wanted to know how you were doing.”
Man? What man?
“He sure is interested in you. I had to chase him out of here so I could give you your bath.” There was a pause. “He doesn’t look so good himself. Broken leg, big knot on his head and who knows what else, but I guess he’ll be going home soon. Umm, let me see. I think his name was Dick? Bart? Beck? Something like that.”
Beck? That’s the man I heard talking!
“Come on, Missy. Let’s turn you on your side. We need to pull this gown off and get you into a clean one. There you go. Now, let me lift your arm.”
Pain! I can’t stand the pain. With one final thrust, she sent herself hurtling upward, willing her eyes to open.
There was the sound of something suddenly hitting the floor, a metal dish or pan, a gasp, footsteps moving away from her, then silence.
Wait! Don’t leave me! Tavia felt her pain increase and her strength waning, but she couldn’t give up now. Not when she was so close. Come back!
“I’m sure I saw her eyelids flutter!”
“Let me take a look,” a second woman said. “Perhaps it was just an involuntary muscular reaction. That happens sometimes.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure she was trying to open her eyes.”
I am trying! Watch, I’ll do it again! With every ounce of strength she could summon, Tavia struggled to force her eyelids open. It was so hard, but she had to do it. She had to let them know before she slipped back into the tunnel.
“There! See! She did it again.”
“You’re right! Get the doctor. Hurry!”
Tavia drew back as the light flooded in, bathing her like a refreshing wave of ocean water. She’d made it! She’d reached the top! Now, if she could just hold on. But she was tired, so tired. She needed to sleep. To sleep.
“Can you hear me?”
Startled, Tavia pulled herself up to the rim again, holding on tightly as she strained toward the man’s voice. I hear you. Throat hurts. Why can’t I swallow?
“Come on, young lady. Open your eyes. I’m Dr. Stevens. I’m here to help you.”
Dr. Stevens? Am I in a hospital? Why? Pictures, like a slide show on a screen, flashed through her mind, each lasting only a split second. A truck. The sound of a loud horn.
“Come on, try to open your eyes. Come back to us.”
“Shall I get her family?” the woman’s voice asked.
“Not yet. Let’s be sure first. We don’t want to disappoint them.”
I don’t have a family.
“We need you to open your eyes wide. Can you do that for me?”
I’m trying! I’m trying!
“Atta girl! Come on.”
It’s—it’s so hard.
Someone touched her arm. Now she had something to hold on to. Something to keep her from slipping back into that abyss. Move! Blink! Let them know you hear them!
“She moved her good arm, Doctor!”
The excitement in the woman’s voice made Tavia want to shout. Finally, someone was helping her out of the pit.
“Can you move your arm again?”
An excruciating pain shot through her as Tavia pressed her eyelids together and lifted with all her might. She wanted to cry out.
“Oh, Doctor, she did it, and I saw her eyelids move again.”
The woman sounded almost as excited as Tavia felt. I’ve got to open my eyes. I’ve got to!
“Close the blinds,” the man’s voice ordered. “It’s too bright in here. The sun is shining right in her face.”
Tavia heard the swish of the blinds closing.
“Open those eyes,” a kindly voice said through the fog still swirling around her.
Slowly, Tavia opened them, peering through her lashes at first, then wider. Why wouldn’t her right eye open as easily as her left? A man stood close to her, giving her a pleasant smile.
“Ah, much better.” The man’s smile broadened. “Your family will be glad to see you’re back with us again. You’re in Boulder Community Hospital. We airlifted you here.”
Tavia flinched at the word family. I don’t have a family. There must be some mistake.
“I finally talked them into going to the cafeteria to have breakfast, but they should be back soon,” the doctor said, still smiling at her. “I need to check those beautiful eyes. Let’s see how they react to light.”
He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at her face. Tavia blinked as he moved it from one side to the other. She’d been in the darkness for such a long time and the light was so bright.
Finally, he turned the light off and slipped it back in his pocket. “Looking good!”
“Oh, you’re awake!” said a female voice.
Tavia squinted up into the smiling face of an attractive, if frail-looking, woman, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, so unexpected was her entry.
“We were so worried.” There was a man standing by the woman’s side and he patted Tavia’s shoulder. “You don’t know how happy this makes us.”
“You’ve come back to us.” The woman, her eyes filled with tears, lifted her hair to one side and bent to place a kiss on Tavia’s cheek. “I can hardly wait to tell Grandpa. He’s been praying for you, too.”
Why would these people pray for me? Are they some do-gooders from a local church? Do they have the wrong room? And who is Grandpa?
The man’s face took on a serious cast. “How is she, Dr. Stevens?”
“I’d say considering her injuries, she’s doing quite well. Her vitals are decent, but with the kind of trauma she’s been through, we’ll continue to intubate her and ventilate her until she’s completely stable. Maybe only a day or so. Now that she’s come around she’ll be in quite a bit of pain with those broken ribs and her fractured arm, but we can deal with that. She’s bound to be a bit disoriented at times,” he went on, “but that should go away in a few days. If she keeps responding as she is now, I should be able to take that tube out by tomorrow or the next day.”
The man released a heavy sigh. “You have no idea how glad we are to hear this.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to visit with her. I have other patients to see.”
The couple gave the doctor wide smiles, though the woman kept dabbing at her eyes with a hanky. She looked as if she’d been crying for days. “I’m so happy to see your lovely eyes. I don’t know what I would have done if—”
“Now, Annie—” The man wrapped his arms about the woman and held her close. “Don’t even think that way. God answered our prayers and brought her back to us.”
Tavia’s gaze flitted from one to the other and back again. What about Adam? What about Jewel? Did that nice couple send you here to cheer me up? Yes, that must be it. Adam and Jewel asked you to come.
The woman began to weep hysterically. “Oh, James, what if she hadn’t—”
“But she did make it, Annie.” Tears rolled down the man’s cheeks as he spoke. “We have to take comfort in her survival.”
Though she didn’t know them, their tears made Tavia want to cry, too, at the deep, horrible pain evident in their voices. But why?
The man gave Tavia a look of concern. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.” He cupped his hand gently about her shoulder. “We’ll go now and let you get some rest, but we’ll be back in a few hours.”
Annie rubbed her tears away with her fingertips before bending to kiss Tavia’s cheek again. “I hate to leave you.”
James grabbed on to his wife’s hand, tugging her away. “She needs her rest, Annie, and so do you.”
“I know, but—”
He motioned her toward the door. “We’ll come back later, I promise.”
Annie blew her a kiss as the pair backed out of the hospital room, leaving Tavia with puzzled thoughts and unanswered questions. Did these people have her mixed up with someone else? Surely, they could tell she wasn’t someone they knew. It was all so confusing.
The darkness. The tunnel. The hospital room. A couple who said they loved her and prayed for her. None of it made any sense. The room began to spin again, making her dizzy. The constant beep, beep, beep of the machines was grating on her nerves.
“Hi.”
Slightly turning her head, she peered into the face of yet another stranger. A man in a wheelchair, with a bandage on his head and a small vase of white daisies balanced between his knees.
“They said you were awake. I’ve been so worried about you.” He placed the vase on the nightstand. “I brought these for you. They’re not much, but they were all the hospital gift shop had to offer.”
You’ve been worried about me, too? And you brought me flowers? Why? Are you a friend of those people who were just here? Annie and James?
“I was here earlier, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I—I want you to know how sorry I am. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been injured. Honest, I did everything I could to avoid the accident, but there wasn’t anything I could do. The truck just kept barreling down the road.”
Accident! This must be the man I heard earlier. Tavia concentrated with all her might, trying to bring up any details of an accident that might be buried deep within her mind. Why was she having so much trouble keeping things straight? And, she hurt. Oh, how she hurt. Just the slightest movement was sheer agony. Pain. Why doesn’t someone give me something for the pain?
“You were looking up at me through the rear window of that SUV.” The man in the wheelchair paused as a tear tumbled down his cheeks. “I—I figured you wouldn’t make it. But, praise God, you did!”
If only she could get the words out, ask him about the couple who had given her a ride, but she couldn’t. Something deep in her throat prevented it.
The man worked his wheelchair up close to her bed, then carefully placed a hand on her arm. “I shouldn’t have mentioned the accident. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’d better leave now, but I’ll be back. You do what the doctor says so you can get well. I’ll be praying for you.” With that, he maneuvered the chair from the room.
Tavia watched him go. All my life no one has cared if I lived or died, now three strangers are concerned about me. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she felt herself sinking, ever so slowly, backward. But this time was different. The pit wasn’t pulling her down, she just felt tired. Sleepy. Sl-ee-py.
Chapter 4
Tavia was awakened by the cheery sound of a woman’s voice.
“Someone must think you’re pretty special!”
With tremendous effort, Tavia turned her head and stared at the woman crossing the room toward her, her hands filled with colorful flowers.
“What a lovely bouquet! Everyone said it made the entire hallway smell like roses.” The woman gave her a warm smile as she placed the lovely wicker basket full of colorful, sweet-smelling flowers on the night table.
Wait! Don’t leave them here. Those can’t be for me! No one has ever sent me a big bouquet.
The woman drew in a deep whiff of the sweet fragrance. “Would you like me to read the card to you?”
Narrowing her eyes, Tavia tried to focus on the woman.
The volunteer fanned a hand toward her and gave her a lopsided grin. “Silly me. I should’ve realized you couldn’t answer me with that tube going down your throat. Of course, you want me to read the card to you. How else would you know who sent these beautiful flowers?”
She pulled the card from the little envelope with a flourish. “It says, �We’re so thankful you’re alive. Your room is ready. As soon as the doctor says it’s okay, we’ll be taking you home.’ And it’s signed, Love, Mom and Dad. Now isn’t that just the sweetest thing? Your mother and father must be wonderful people.”
Those flowers can’t be for me! My parents died years ago! Tavia tried to blink back tears, but it was impossible. If only someone did care enough about her to send flowers, but that was nothing but wishful thinking.
The nice lady hurried to her side and pulled a tissue from the box on her tray. “I know you’re hurting, honey, but things will get better. Honest, they will.”
But, I don’t even know these people!
“I’ll be going now. I have several more bouquets to deliver, but none as pretty as the one I brought to you. You take care now, and get well soon so you can go home.”
Tavia gave the volunteer one last frantic look. Getting one bouquet had startled her. Receiving two was utterly impossible! That nice lady who delivered the flowers had to have made a mistake. Tavia stared at the basket of flowers. It was the most beautiful bouquet she’d ever seen. The kind people would send for grand openings, or to celebrities on awards night. Why would anyone spend that kind of money on her?
The last thing she remembered before drifting off was the sweet scent of roses.
It took a few minutes for Tavia to focus her eyes as she stared at the blinds on the window. Her puffed-up right eye still refused to cooperate. How long had she been asleep? It was still light outside, but the sun was low in the sky, turning everything into a rosy haze. She turned her head slowly, painfully, toward the other side of the bed. A man in a wheelchair sat staring at her. Finally he spoke.
“I don’t want to bother you. I’ll go if you want me to. You’ve been asleep for several hours.”
“Well, our little sweetheart is awake!”
Tavia glanced toward the door at the sound of familiar voices. There had been a constant string of people in and out of her room—people she didn’t know. This time, Dr. Stevens, Annie and James filed in, with an older stranger following close behind. Annie’s eyes were still swollen from crying and her nose was red. “Oh, good, you got our flowers.”
Annie placed a box on the chair, then bent to plant a kiss on Tavia’s cheek. You’re the ones who sent that big basket of flowers? But why? You don’t even know me.
The older man stuck out his hand toward the man in the wheelchair. “I’m James’s father. You must be Beck. James and Annie told me all about you.”
Beck hung his head as he shook the man’s hand. “Yes, I was driving the truck, sir.”
James’s father nodded. “I know, but from what they’ve told me, you did all you could to avoid the accident. It just wasn’t enough.”
How are Adam and Jewel? Please, someone tell me! Are they in this hospital, too? Have you just come from seeing them?
“I’ll never forgive myself, sir.” Beck stiffened. “That accident will haunt me the rest of my days.”
Tavia watched as he blinked back tears. She couldn’t remember when she’d last seen a man his age cry, much less a big man like Beck.
The older man eyed the wheelchair. “How long you gonna have to be in that thing?”
“Doc says I can start walking on this cast tomorrow, so he’ll be releasing me.”
Annie tugged on her father-in-law’s sleeve. “Come and meet our miracle girl.” Together they moved up close to Tavia.
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