Dawn's Light (38 page)

“In the waiting room. He thought it would be too crowded.”

Deni swallowed. “It was weird. Craig and I were talking … about us. And then he pulled out the ring and proposed again. And all of a sudden Beth said, ‘Don't do it, Deni.’ ”

Logan laughed. “Way to go, sis!”

Kay threw her hands over her mouth and laughed. Doug kissed Beth's pink cheek. “That's my girl.”

“That's it?” Jeff asked. “That's all she said?”

“That's it,” Deni told them. “And then her eyes just fluttered shut again. But, Mom, Dad, she can hear us. I know she can. I've been talking to her ever since.”

Logan came to the bed and shook his sister's arm. “Come on, Beth. We know you're faking now.”

Kay set her hand on his shoulder. “She's not faking, honey.”

Logan winked at her. He was trying to provoke an argument. If only that would work.

When there was no response, he tried again. “Jimmy has been up here to see you. He's about to give up on you if you don't hurry. He's sick of hospitals because of his dad and all.”

Beth lay still and silent.

Hours went by, and they couldn't rouse her again. Finally, the nurses sent all but two of them out of the room. Kay and Doug kept talking to her, caressing her, but she didn't come to again.

Disappointed, Kay finally went to the waiting room and rounded up her family. “I'll stay with her. You guys go on home.”

Deni refused. “No, Mom. I wanted you to rest. I'll stay with her.”

“You couldn't force me to leave right now, Deni. I want to be here the next time she wakes up. Besides, I got several hours of sleep.” She pointed to the window. “It's morning.”

Deni looked surprised that daylight had broken. “What about Dad?”

“He's staying too. We've waited too long for this. We can feel a breakthrough coming.”

ninety

M
ORNING SUN BLASTED DOWN ON
T
UNGSTEN ROAD AS
Craig drove them home, stinging his tired eyes. He wished he could take time to sleep, but he had to go back to the office. There wasn't time for a day off.

Fatigue intensified his depression, magnifying the import of what Beth had said. He'd wanted her to wake up. That had been his goal in driving through the night to get the drugs. But he hadn't expected her to shoot him down. Not when he'd been on his knees proposing.

He was quiet as he drove, oblivious to the conversation between Deni's brothers in the backseat. Deni sat next to him, her head back against the seat, eyes closed. She was as exhausted as he. He wondered if she turned those words over in her head too, or if she'd dismissed them as disoriented muttering. He had to know.

Deni's eyes came back open as he pulled into her driveway. Wearily, she got out of the car and followed her brothers to the door. When they got inside, Logan and Jeff went upstairs.

Deni turned back to him. “Thanks for everything you did last night, Craig. Looks like it made a huge difference.”

Not with you and me
, he thought. It made no difference at all. If she'd wanted to marry him, she would have picked up the conversation. Her silence said more than he wanted to hear.

But he wouldn't be dismissed that way. He slid his hands into his pockets. “Deni, can we talk about what happened?”

She turned back to him, and it was clear she knew what he meant. “Craig, I'm really tired. Let's talk later.”

That chafed him. “I'm tired too, Deni. I don't think I've slept in days. I got the power turned back on, for Pete's sake. I drove to Washington and back.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean—”

“I had just proposed to you and offered you your ring back. I don't deserve to have that left hanging.”

Deni lowered to the couch. “I'm sorry about the timing, Craig. I don't know what to say.”

He breathed out a laugh. “Well, I guess that says it all.”

Her eyes at least looked sad. “I don't want to hurt you. I really don't. I care a lot about you.”

He let out a long, rugged sigh, and dropped into Doug's favorite chair. Rejection had a taste, he thought. Its bitterness brought a sting to his eyes.

“Has Mark even asked you to marry him?”

She looked at the floor. “Not in so many words. Things have been crazy lately.”

He wanted to follow that trail, to make her think Mark had no intentions of asking. But he knew better than that, and so did she. He thought back over their time in the hospital, when she'd been so happy about the medication he'd gotten. When he'd offered her the ring, he'd seen the pleasure in her eyes. He'd had her in the palm of his hand. She might have said yes. But then Beth woke up.

He breathed a laugh. “Well, I've got to say this for your sister. She has perfect timing. She never has liked me.”

Deni met his eyes. “That's not true. When we first got engaged, she adored you.”

“She likes Mark better. She's rooting for him, even from a coma.”

Irritation hardened her eyes. “Craig, be happy for Beth. This isn't about you.”

Now he felt like a heel. “I know it's not. I didn't mean it was. You know I've prayed for her and I've done what I could.”

“I do know that. We owe you a lot. We're going to get her back.”

Maybe Mark had it right. It was no good proposing now, when Deni's every thought centered around Beth, and every conversation drifted back to her.

He stood and looked down at her, waiting for something she couldn't give him. He put his hand in his pocket, felt the ring, and slipped it onto his pinkie finger, wishing he'd been the kind of man to keep a woman like her happy. Then she would never have taken it off to begin with.

He rubbed his neck. “Guess I'd better head back to work.”

“You can't sleep for even an hour?”

He shrugged. “I might find a place in the office to nap later on today. It'll be okay. Someone will have made coffee.”

She got up and came toward him, then hugged him. He held her a moment too long, hating himself for seeming desperate. Then she kissed him on the cheek.

The platonic nature of it sliced like a knife through his heart. He let her go, and she went upstairs, leaving him to wonder why he was still here.

ninety-one

D
ENI WENT TO HER ROOM AND CLOSED THE DOOR
. W
EARILY
, she lay on the bed fully clothed, staring up at the ceiling. The events of the night had been so confusing. Her heart had begun to soften toward Craig as he reminded her of their beginning.

But had God used Beth to speak to her?

With one foot in heaven and another on earth, did she have some special insight?

Deni tried to see things through Beth's eyes. Of course Beth wanted her to marry Mark. He was the one Beth loved, who'd given her a special nickname, who brought her unique gifts that he'd made with his own hands. He was the one who helped her with props for her plays and made her feel like a star. He was the one who treated her like a friend, not the little sister of his girlfriend.

Deni had no doubt that Beth's “Don't do it, Deni,” had everything to do with Craig's proposal. She smiled.

She tried to imagine marriage to Craig. They'd live in the fast lane, no doubt about it. His work on the recovery team was a huge step in his career. If she stuck with him, she would rise to the top of her own career in no time. By the time she was thirty, the two of them would be known and respected for the power couple they would be.

Life with Mark would be so different. If she stayed with him, she would live here in Crockett and work for the paper. He'd start his solar business, and she'd help him with that. She would raise children and stay close to her family.

Why did that sound better than what Craig could give her?

She heard a chime and sat up, wondering where it had come from. It rang again. Smiling, she realized it was the front doorbell. She hadn't heard it since the electricity had come back on.

Hoping it was more news of Beth, she went downstairs. Through the etched glass, she saw Mark on the front porch.

She flung the door open. “Mark, did you hear?”

“Yeah, I just went by the hospital,” he said, throwing his arms around her. “Your mom told me. It's gonna be all right now, Deni. This is the beginning of her healing.”

Something about his arms cut through her fatigue. She buried her face against his neck and breathed in his scent. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“Probably not. Come sit with me.” He pulled her to the couch, dropped down at one end. She sat down and snuggled up in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Your mother also told me what happened with you and Craig.”

She straightened and looked at him. “It's no big deal, Mark. Please don't worry about that.” But the fragile look on his stubbled face broke her heart.

“So Craig offered you the ring back. I figured that was inevitable.”

“I didn't take it.”

“My understanding was that you got interrupted.”

She smiled. “Yeah, interrupted by my sister who was in a coma. If that wasn't a message from God, I don't know what was.”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “Did you need a message?”

The vulnerability on his face overrode her irritation. “You know I didn't.”

“Well, he didn't just let the conversation drop after that, did he? You two came home together. He had to have brought it back up.”

“He did,” she whispered.

His gaze bored into hers. “And what did you say?”

“I kind of evaded the whole conversation.”

His countenance fell. “So you didn't tell him no?”

“I was too tired to have a long, drawn-out talk.”

He tried to smile. “Like the one you're having with me?”

“I like having long, drawn-out conversations with you. Anytime, anywhere.” She kissed him, sliding her hand down the stubble on his face, to the dip of his neck. Her heart melted as she felt his racing pulse. “He got the message, Mark.”

The concern left his face as he pulled her head back to his shoulder. She got comfortable in his arms and dozed into a gentle sleep.

M
ARK HELD
D
ENI AS SHE SLEPT, THANKING
G
OD FOR THE PRIVI
lege of knowing her. He tried to focus on Beth's victory, rather than his own pain. Deni had been through a lot lately, and she probably hadn't slept well in weeks. Craig's pressure on her had come after he'd driven to Washington for Beth's medication. That act, Mark had to admit, was sacrificial and heroic. If he'd been Craig, he would have taken the same opportunity.

As she slept, her head under his, he prayed.
I promise I'll make her happy, Lord. I'll spend the rest of my life trying
.

He'd been in love with her since high school, though she never knew it. Back then she'd seemed out of his league, so he'd masqueraded as her friend. When she went off to college, he forced himself to move on. But a year ago, when he saw her again, it had all come rushing back.

Of course he'd dated in the last few years, but there was no one else who played a starring role in his dreams. No one else.

Please, God.

After a while, he realized she was sound asleep. He loved the sound of her breathing. He could listen to it every night for the rest of his life and count himself privileged.

“I love you, Deni,” he whispered, knowing she didn't hear. “You know Beth was right.” He laid his head back, and drifted into his own shallow sleep.

ninety-two

D
OUG'S HOPES PLUNGED WHEN, BY AFTERNOON
, B
ETH
hadn't awakened again. The steroids weren't helping. And when her blood pressure dropped to 60/40 and her breathing became uneven, Dr. Overton made the decision to put her back on the ventilator.

Doug tried to stay strong for Kay, who hadn't moved from Beth's bedside. But the disappointment tugged him down.

He left the ICU, depositing his scrubs in the laundry basket, and tried to find a private place to pray. He tried the chapel but found three or four others in there, sitting quietly in the three long pews, staring up at the cross hung on the wall or the open Bible on the podium. He didn't want to sit there among strangers, even if they were brothers and sisters in Christ. He wanted to talk aloud to God, to pour out his heart in uncensored honesty unbefitting a preacher of God's Word.

The stairwell was a traffic thoroughfare that presented no privacy, even though the elevators were now operational. Waiting rooms were breeding grounds for noise and anxiety. The courtyard outside was short on oxygen, since that was where the smokers clustered.

There was no place to be alone with God.

So Doug stood at the window in the corner of the ICU waiting room, whispering angry, desperate prayers against the windowpane. He practiced faith without doubting, ordering up a healing for his precious child, expecting it to come immediately like Lazarus coming out of the tomb.

Then he doubted his faith, wondering if it was strong enough to transport his prayers. Was there a hint of disbelief that would filter them out of heaven's gates?

So, like the father who came to Jesus on behalf of his tormented son, he whispered into the windowpane, “Lord, help my unbelief!”

Jesus had answered that father's prayers and healed the son. But Doug wondered if his own faith was somehow flawed and deformed. Was God using Beth to show him how flimsy it was?

Tears flooded his eyes and he wiped them away. “God, I'm begging you to save her,” he whispered. “I'm dying, myself. Kay's dying. We can't stand this. We need your help. If this is my fault, if it's because of my failings, show me. Punish me, not Beth.”

At once, he felt a peace come over him, filling him with the warmth of a father comforting a son—the immediate sense that Beth wasn't lying comatose because of anything he or Kay had done. The sudden, certain knowledge that it was about love.

Love
? How could that be? If God loved them, wouldn't he give them their deepest heart's desire? Wouldn't he save their child?

His human mind searched for human answers, and dragged him to conclusions. Of course God would save her. Why wouldn't he? What would be served by her death? That wouldn't be love.