Rollover (3 page)

But she didn't miss it. The ground was obviously more torn up after a wrecker had dragged the truck back up onto the highway, and the ruts stood out starkly against the bleached brown grass and gravel. She pulled to a stop, suddenly reluctant to get out. “What if,” with its ugly possibility, pushed into her consciousness again. What if she found Simon's mangled body? What if she only had a body to take back? No. She absolutely would not think that way. Deep breath. Stiff upper lip or however that saying went, another breath; then, she pushed the door open and stepped out.

The wind was gusting across the almost flat grasslands and blew a strand of hair across her face. Chilly, she realized she should have worn a jacket. She moved to the edge of the incline and forced herself to look at the spot where the truck had landed marked by pieces of twisted metal and broken glass. It was eerie being at a place of death. She wondered what had gone through Dan's mind when he knew they were going to roll. And the driver. What was his reaction? Should someone erect a
descanso
? “Resting places” were celebrated along roads across the state with crosses where loved ones had been lost to traffic accidents. The idea had merit. She wouldn't mind bringing a cross out and decorating it with flowers.

The howl, part wolf, part frantic animal broke through her reverie. Oh my God, “Simon?” Then louder, “Simon?” She was yelling now, just his name, over and over as she started down the steep graveled slope, sliding, losing her footing, sitting back smartly on her rear before reaching the bottom more or less upright. And the howling never stopped but now ended in excited puppy yips of recognition. Simon was a bare twenty feet to her left almost covered by a parched bundle of grasses and weeds.

But he wasn't coming to meet her. Was he injured? Broken leg? Worse? She rushed forward and sank to the ground in front of him and then she saw them—Dan's suitcase and shaving kit. Of course. Perfectly safe because they had been unswervingly guarded by a dog who obviously believed if he minded his owner, his owner would never forsake him but would come back.

And it was then that Elaine couldn't hold back the sobs. Tears more than overdue…for a dog so trusting that he risked death by starvation, or worse, to do what he was told, tears for a man who didn't deserve what he was suffering and tears for all three of them—a makeshift family who had struggled enough and wanted nothing more than to be together and be happy.

Chapter Three

Once back to civilization, Elaine called a vet in Santa Fe, explained the situation and was squeezed in between a cat, Arnold, who needed stitches after a fight and a very fat Corgi, Emma, who was there for shots. Simon wasn't impressed with either animal—especially Emma who continually snarled at him showing some pretty impressive incisors. He turned his back, put his head in Elaine's lap and drooled his content. When it was their turn to see the vet, Simon checked out amazingly well—a crusted-over cut above his ear, not deep, a puncture wound in the middle of his head, likewise already healing, and a contusion above his left eye that had raised a lump but otherwise didn't seem to be causing a problem. A little dehydrated, but basically, a clean bill of health. A stop for a leash, a rawhide bone, kibble, doggy dishes, a bed and they were back at the hospital a couple minutes after two.

Elaine left Simon in the back of the SUV with a bowl of water, a bowl of kibble and unwrapped the rawhide bone. “This will hold you for awhile.” But she didn't have to invite Simon to eat—he literally dove into the bowl. She left every window cracked three inches, grabbed Dan's shaving kit and the one piece of luggage, locked the SUV's doors, and hurried up the steps of Christus St. Vincent.

“I had no idea you were leaving for the day. You could have at least called us.” Carolyn and Phillip were sitting in the waiting room. “I don't think it's a good idea to leave Dan without family support.”

Elaine ignored Carolyn's peevishness and explained what had happened. Yes, she should have called but she was so caught up in Simon's whereabouts and welfare, she just didn't think. Carolyn seemed only slightly mollified.

“I've asked the doctor to join us. He's obviously running late. I think you need to hear this, too.”

Elaine didn't say that she had also made an appointment to discuss Dan's prognosis for later that afternoon. She looked from Carolyn to Phillip. But he appeared to be staying out of any confrontation and had his nose in a
Wall Street Journal
, looking up only once to nod hello. Not that she expected a hug, but just a terse nod? She pulled a straight-backed chair away from the wall, put Dan's things next to it, and sat down.

The doctor kept them waiting another thirty minutes and then invited them into his office to the right of the admitting area. It wasn't personalized and seemed to be an office used by several docs for consultation. But it had a viewing screen for X-rays and there were two negatives already clipped in place.

“I'm Herb Zimmerman and you're?”

Elaine held out her hand, “Elaine Linden.”

“Of course, the fiancée.”

Elaine didn't correct him, probably gave her the privilege of a cot in Dan's room. And, fiancée did have a nice sound.

“Well, I'm going to start by saying, I'm guardedly optimistic. Here, I think you can see for yourselves.” He turned to the X-rays. “On the left is the first picture taken Monday. Compare it to the one taken this morning. Notice the areas here and here.” He traced a darkened area to the right side and along the internal edge of Dan's skull with the tip of what looked to be a very expensive gold ballpoint.

“I'll try to put this in layman's terms but stop me with any questions.” Elaine thought his smile was a little condescending. “An epidural hematoma may occur with trauma to the temporal bone located on the side of the head above the ear. Aside from the fact that the temporal bone is thinner than the other skull bones—” Here he stopped and pointed to a life-sized plastic model of a head on the desk in front of him. After noting that these were the three areas he was referring to, he removed the frontal, parietal, and occipital pieces to show the brain and several arteries underneath. “This is also the location of the middle meningeal artery that runs just beneath the bone.” The gold, monogrammed pen traced the area. “Fracture of the temporal bone is associated with tearing of this artery and may lead to an epidural hematoma. Or blood clot. If there's nowhere for the blood to accumulate, pressure builds quickly—without almost immediate attention, death is a certainty. There have been a couple pretty high-profile cases in the last few years.

“But I think we were lucky in Dan's case. He was able to make a 9-1-1 call before he lost consciousness, and he was airlifted to the hospital in less than an hour and a half of the accident. In addition to lucking out on the time side of things, there seems to be a series of smaller, tiny actually, epidural blood clots instead of one large hematoma pushing against brain tissue. These seldom require surgery but require monitoring. We're forty-eight hours in and I think doing remarkably well. Our guy's a fighter. We were able to remove his breathing tube this morning.”

“So why is he still in a coma?” Carolyn asked exactly what Elaine was thinking.

A pause. “I'm going to say the very thing that you don't want to hear…I don't know. I suspect it will be short-lived. I see no medical reason for prolonged unconsciousness. But this is a head injury and all bets should be off. These things can surprise us.”

And not in a good way, Elaine thought. “Can there be damage? Motor control, speech…?”

“Highly improbable because of the area affected.”

Elaine waited, but Dr. Zimmerman didn't seem to want to elaborate; he was checking his notes. “Oh, I almost forgot. A Sheriff Howard called. He needs to interview Mr. Mahoney about the accident. I took the liberty of giving him your number and briefing him on Mr. Mahoney's condition.” This directed at Elaine.

“That's fine. I'm sure with a death, there needs to be an investigation.”

“Well, if there are no further questions…” He looked at each of them, “I'll excuse myself. Let me reiterate I think we have a lot to be thankful for—I really think this one is going to have a happy ending.” A forced smile that didn't reach his eyes and he was gone.

Elaine finally broke the silence. “I need to walk Simon.”

“I think we'll just peek in on brother dearest and then get something to eat. Can we bring you something?”

“No, I'll go out later. There's a McDonald's about a half mile from here—I think Simon has earned a cheeseburger.”

Carolyn paused by the door. “I decided against trying to get Mother here. You know, it seems a bit premature. Not really knowing…”

“Besides it'd be tough to get her off that bridge-playing cruise to Barbados.” Phillip chuckled. “That woman is a mover. Does Dan know she's still seeing Stanley?”

“My mother's love life is no one's concern but her own. You make it sound like she doesn't care about Dan.” Carolyn turned to Elaine. “She's called every day for an update.”

That would be twice, Elaine noted, but still certainly a show of concern.

“Carolyn, we need to go.” Phillip opened the door, then added, “Elaine, I'm meeting with the state's attorney general this evening. A little strategy planning for the big run, you know. It's just a year away. I'd like Carolyn with me—think you can hold down the fort on your own?”

“Of course. Have a good evening. I'll call if anything changes.” The “big run”—for governor, she presumed. Phillip always seemed to be in campaign mode. And Elaine was actually relieved that she wouldn't have to make small talk and put up with the pompous Phillip or listen to family squabbling. Families. She'd lost hers at an early age—mother and father in a car accident—raised by a grandmother. And she was never quite sure she didn't idealize what she'd never had. Being around Carolyn brought her back to Earth.

After a quick walk around the outskirts of the grounds, Elaine put Simon back in the car. Maybe after the cheeseburger run she'd take Simon to see Dan. It couldn't hurt and might really help. She was certain they didn't allow dogs, but the worst they could do is tell her to take him out. One of the night nurses seemed really sympathetic and had asked if she'd found Simon.

***

Maybe she was grasping at straws or maybe it was because the breathing tube had been removed, but Elaine thought Dan's color was a hundred percent better. Aside from the stubble of a three-day old beard, he looked…rested. Yes, that was probably the word that worked best…tanned, rested, and vital. He carried his fifty-two years extremely well. No one would guess there was a six-year difference in their ages. Prominent cheekbones, only laugh lines combined with crinkly ones around his eyes to mar an otherwise smooth face. And the longest eyelashes—why was it that men got them somehow as a birthright and women got them via Latisse—at a hundred and twenty dollars a month?

She dragged a low-slung leather and wood chair to the side of the bed and sank back. She just needed to rest a moment. Quiet time seemed a luxury. She never realized how tired she was until she sat down. She stretched long legs out in front, then turned on her side and tucked one leg underneath her. She raised slightly to glance at Dan before crooking an elbow and resting her head on her arm.

Long shadows had pushed into the room when Elaine awoke. Her watch said five-thirty. And her stomach signaled it was long past time to put some food in it. Had she even eaten that day? Not that McDonald's would be her usual choice of restaurant, but she had a furry dinner partner waiting on her, which greatly narrowed dining choices.

Simon seemed thrilled with the attention and a cheeseburger but was ecstatic when he realized he wasn't being left in the SUV after they got back to the hospital parking lot. Elaine clipped the leash in place, admonished him to be quiet, then led him around to a side door. So much for trying to sneak in, they almost literally ran into the floor nurse going off duty.

Elaine started to explain, but the nurse simply shrugged, “I don't see a thing. Just keep him quiet and in the room with you.”

Easier said than done when it came to keeping Simon quiet after he'd seen Dan. Pulling him back from putting both paws on the bed, Elaine finally let him rest his head next to Dan's left hand and watched as Simon repeatedly nudged it with his nose.

“Easy, Simon. I don't think your master's quite ready to play yet.” There was no way to dampen his enthusiasm and the squeaky whining seemed a little loud. Elaine walked to the door and shut it all the way. No need to attract attention. When she turned back, she caught her breath. There was a hand on top of Simon's head gently patting the big dog and stroking his ears.

“Hi.” The grin was a little lopsided and the voice thick.

“Hi, yourself. I've spent a night on a lumpy cot by your side and it takes a dog to wake sleeping beauty?” It felt so good to tease again.

“Your nose probably isn't as cold or wet.” Dan's laugh ended in a fit of coughing.

“Easy. How 'bout a drink of water?” At the affirmative nod, Elaine quickly put the bent straw in the glass on the side table and poured water from a small plastic pitcher. Hoisting the bed higher by stepping on the electric pedal on the floor, she held the glass while he drank. “Better?”

“What's better is seeing you.” He caught her wrist with his good hand. “I'm sorry about Ireland…again.”

“As we keep saying, it'll wait on us.”

She bent down, kissed his bandaged forehead, and then pressed the red buzzer pinned to the bed sheet. “Need to let some people know you're back among us.”

***

She took a protesting Simon back to the SUV but this time climbed into the backseat beside him. Dan's room was going to be crowded for awhile—adjusting or removing machines, running several tests—she'd go back in an hour.

“I think we've won this round, Buddy.”

She caught herself. She'd just called Simon, Buddy, the name of her black Lab that she'd lost last summer. Was Simon a replacement? Well, as much as one animal could replace another, she guessed he was. She hugged him tighter and he didn't protest.

She'd get a motel for the night after one last check on Dan and picking up her luggage. A good night's sleep was in order and a shower—none too soon. They could talk plans in the morning if Dan was up to it. She knew him; he wouldn't take it easy but would want to continue to Wagon Mound and the investigation. She couldn't change him and what was another two or three days? Ireland would still be there next week.