Saving Sam (The Wounded Warriors Book 1) (12 page)

Bright and early the following morning, Dusty, Janie and Amy piled into the ranch's pickup truck and made the long ride to San Antonio, succeeding in getting caught in the morning rush hour. Arriving nearly 40 minutes late for their 9am appointment, they met with Sam in the day room of his medical unit. He looked thin and pale, his face strained, but at least he was lucid. Amy approached cautiously, and he opened his arms, drawing her in and kissing her forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly.

“I know you didn't mean it,” Amy replied.

“Ahem,” Janie cleared her throat in an obvious way.

“And I forgive you, but you can't do things like that anymore,” Amy added nervously, trying to sound firm.

Sam gazed into her eyes and then nodded slowly. “I never wanted to hurt you. God willing, I never will again. I love you, Amy.”

Tears welled.
Not again, girl! What's wrong with you? Why do you cry over everything?
Choking down the emotional reaction, she drew Sam down for a gentle kiss on the lips. “I'm so glad.”

“I had to tell you before anything else happened. I'm sorry I waited so long.”

“It's okay,” she replied. Then, her well-practiced mantra fresh in her mind, she added. “I kind of knew it anyway.”

Sam smiled, though his eyes remained strained.

“So, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, suddenly withdrawing. She could see his connection to her retract. “They have me doped up on some shit that makes me more tired than I've ever been in my life… I can't even describe it. It sucks, but Major Hansen said it's only a temporary reaction.” He laughed without humor at the doctor, who was standing beside him, then he gestured to his apparel. “Not to mention the fashion in this place is horrible. I'd take my ACU's any day.”

“ACU's?” Dusty looked confused. “Don't you mean BDU's?”

“Not anymore,” Sam explained. “BDU means Battle Dress Uniform, but that's actually a brand name, like Q-tip or Speed-o. ACU stands for Advanced Combat Uniform, which is actually the proper name for our camouflage.”

“Oh.” Dusty silently mulled the new information over.

Amy looked over his scrubs. The pale sea green did nothing for Sam's coloring. “You've looked better,” she quipped as she exaggerated her assessment of him.

Sam made a soft sound of annoyance, stepping back and turning to face the window. “I hate this.”

“I know.” She approached and laid a hand on his shoulder. He flinched. “Just concentrate on getting well. I'll still be here.”

He shook his head, but before he could speak, the door opened with a loud
BANG
. Immediately Sam dropped to a crouch, whirling so the wall was at his back. His eyes went wild, his gaze distant.

“Sam,” Janie said in alarm, “Sam, it's okay. It was just the door.”

It took a moment before her assurances penetrated his stunned brain. By the time Sam started to calm down and everyone realized what had happened, it was too late. In in his panic, Sam hadn't just shouted and flung himself violently towards the wall; he'd also thrust his arms out wildly in a defensive chop. His uncontrolled movement caught Amy, who was standing nearby, in the shoulder, sending her sprawling. Her head connected with the corner of one of the hard plastic chairs then hit the tile. Her wrist, extended in order to catch her, took the brunt of the impact, crumpling under her weight with a sickening crunch.

Gulping, trying to suppress the urge to vomit from the intense pain, Amy lay panting on the floor while the doctor knelt beside her to evaluate her injuries. Major Hansen barked to Janie to get a nurse while Dusty stepped between Sam and Amy protectively. Without delay, the chef leapt from the room, screaming, “Nurse! Nurse!”

In the ensuing flurry of activity, Sam remained crumpled on the floor, shivering and unable to move. By the time Amy had been stabilized with a neck and back brace and bundled onto a gurney, he was lost in crazy ruminations – half ugly memory, half wild imagination. Having seen Amy harmed by his own hand yet again was more than Sam could bear. His fragile mind catapulted him from the hospital.

Sam heard someone bellow in the distance, but the sound of freight trains running in his ears dampened the sound, making it impossible for him to locate the source of the cry. When he heard it again, closer, the voice sounded familiar somehow. He strained to listen past the thundering racket in his ears, only to be rewarded by another holler from the voice. This time, he recognized the voice as his own.

A sharp sensation pricked into his arm and the edges of the world faded to black. The dark circle closed in and in until the world faded and he was trapped in his bleak imaginings.

* * *

Amy whimpered, the pain in her wrist overcoming her natural reserve. It was the same wrist that had been weakened by the previous injury Sam had inflicted in the shower. Her head hurt and the tickling sensation coming from her temple seemed suspiciously like blood. She also felt a bit dizzy, but not incoherent. Even with her limited knowledge of medicine, she knew it was good she had remained conscious.

A voice seemed to be babbling at her. She turned slowly, her head throbbing with the movement, and took in a tall black man in scrubs and a funny green hat. “Say that again,” she enunciated clearly. Her ears were ringing.

“I said,” he replied more slowly, and she watched his lips this time to be sure she understood what he was saying, “I'm Dr. Ramos and I'm a medical resident from the hospital's emergency room. You've hit your head pretty hard. You need a CT scan to check for internal injuries.”

Amy became aware of a throbbing agony on her left side. “I'm sure my wrist is broken too,” she said, her voice cracking with the pain.

“Okay, I'll order an x-ray for that as well. I have some paperwork here. Can someone help you fill it out?”

Amy blinked slowly and turned to look around just as Janie bustled into the room.

“Is she all right, doctor?” Amy's friend demanded.

“Are you a family member?”

“Yes,” Janie and Amy said simultaneously. Then Janie added, “Is Amy all right?”

“I think so, but we're going to run a few tests to make sure,” he replied. “She thinks her wrist is broken, and she hit her head. She sounds a bit… woozy, so I think it would be best to get a CT scan and make sure she doesn't have a concussion. Do you think you can fill out this paperwork for her?” He extended a clipboard

Janie accepted with a nod.

“I can call in the orders while y'all work,” the man said. “Is there any chance she might be pregnant?”

“No,” Amy said. Her head had cleared enough for her to know the answer to that question at least.

“Are you sure?” Janie shot back. “Just how many times did you and Sam have unprotected sex?”

Amy blushed. “Three.”

The doctor shook his head and sighed. “Well, in that case we have to perform a pregnancy test. We'll wait for the results before we proceed. Though no single diagnostic test has enough radiation to cause adverse developmental effects on an embryo or fetus, it's not recommended that you undergo them unless you have to, and since we have to perform multiple tests, I want to be certain. That being said, what kind of timeframe are we talking about here; days, weeks, months?”

He looked at Amy but received no response, so he turned to Janie.

She shrugged. “A couple of weeks?”

“Okay,” he replied. “No need for a blood test. A urine sample will tell us everything we need to know.”

He stalked away.

Amy glared.

“Knock it off,” Janie snapped. “If you're knocked up, don't get mad at me. I swear, sometimes, Amy, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you. Did the fall make you stupid? Having an x-ray or CT scan might hurt the baby… or you could even have a bad reaction to the dye they use.”

“What baby?” Amy kibitzed.

Janie looked cross. “The one we're making sure isn't there.”

“You're right; I'm sorry,” Amy replied, her jaw tightly clenched. “My head hurts bad and my wrist is killing me. Don't expect anything like sensible behavior any time too soon.”

Janie's gaze softened. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I just… I'm worried and I want to be sure you're okay.”

“Thanks, Janie,” Amy squeezed the chef's hand to help emphasize her words.

Janie gave the younger woman a loving, motherly gaze before she kissed her forehead. “Any time.”

A nurse walked up to the pair, confirmed she had the correct patient and then asked, “Are you able to walk so we can collect a urine sample?”

“I, ah, I think so,” Amy responded, but when she went to move, a dizzying wave of nausea overcame her and she immediately fell back onto the gurney.

“Amy!” Janie gasped and she and the nurse both rushed to assist her.

“Okay, I'll clean catch your urine using a catheter,” the nurse determined.

The nurse then stepped beyond the curtain briefly and returned quickly with a sealed, sanitized pouch containing the necessary items. She made haste, handling her business in an efficient manner, trying to minimize the discomfort to Amy as best she could. Amy felt a bit embarrassed, and the catheter felt terrible, but she cooperated.

“It won't take long to get the results. As soon as I have them, the doctor will return to speak with you so you know what to expect next,” the kind nurse told them, and then she left the room.

“This is stupid,” Amy complained, rolling to her side. “I'm not pregnant.”

“Amy, you don't know that. It's better to be safe than sorry,” Janie reminded her.

“Don't you think I'd know if I were pregnant? I mean, wouldn't there be signs by now?” Amy continued stubbornly.

“Not necessarily,” Janie replied. “Every pregnancy is difference.”

“Ugh!” Amy groaned in irritation. “I can't believe this is happening.”

“I know,” Janie acknowledged sadly. “I'm sorry.”

“Is Sam okay? I heard him hollering when they wheeled me out of the room,” Amy demanded, suddenly feeling panicked.

“Yes, he's fine,” Janie cooed. “Just relax.”

“Where is he? Is Dusty with him?”

“Dusty is with him… well, he's still on the unit, but the doctor gave Sam a sedative so he's resting comfortably in his room,” Janie informed her, not sure how the younger woman would take the information.

“Is Dusty… is he mad at me?” Amy wondered, anxious that her boss might blame her.

“Heavens no, Amy! What would make you think that?” Janie exclaimed, flabbergasted.

“I just… well, if I wasn't here then this wouldn't have happened.”

“Your thoughts are so convoluted,” Janie scoffed.

Just then, Dr. Ramos returned with the results. “Well, first of all, let me congratulate you.”

“What?” Janie exclaimed.

“I beg your pardon?” Amy looked at the doctor as if he'd spoken in another language.

“You're test was positive,” the doctor chimed with a smile. “You're going to be a mother.”

“No, I'm not,” Amy denied the diagnosis. “That's impossible.”

“Ah, but it's entirely possible. Besides, I have the test results that prove it,” the doctor reaffirmed, waving her chart in the air.

“But…” Amy said weakly and then trailed off.

Janie looked at her friend with concern, but then left her to her own thoughts while she asked, “So what now, doctor?”

“Well, I definitely don't want to do a CT scan. I don't think it's worth the risk to the baby and honestly, I wouldn't change my recommendations to her; either way, I would tell her to rest with limited physical activity over the next week. However, I do need to get her wrist x-rayed. I need to see exactly what's going on in there so I can set it properly, if it is indeed broken.”

Janie nodded. “Okay. Did you hear him Amy?”

Amy still looked stunned. “I'm pregnant.”

“Yes, dear, I know. But did you hear what he said about the x-ray?” Janie tried to focus Amy on the vital matter at hand.

Tears began to stream from Amy's eyes. “Janie,” she said in an anguish-drenched voice. “What am I going to do?”

Janie's patience had reached its limit. “I do declare! You're going to stop that whimpering and get your wrist x-rayed. After that, you're most likely going to get a cast and then I'm taking you home.”

“No,” Amy corrected. “I mean about the baby?”

“Well, that's simple too, now isn't it?” Janie rolled her eyes. “You're going to grow up and take responsibility for your actions. Your life isn't about you anymore; it's about that baby in there.”

Amy nodded as she struggled to control her emotions. “You're right.”

“Damn straight I'm right,” Janie replied. “And I know that you can do this. A baby is a blessing, so quit all this fussing and let's move on.” Then softer, leaning in towards Amy, she added, “You're going to be a great mother.”

“Thanks,” Amy gave a chuckle and smiled through her tears.

* * *

Sam drifted slowly into consciousness, groggy and feeling hung over. He opened his eyes slowly, taking a moment to recognize where he was. Looking around, assessing his environment, his eyes stopped when they locked with hers.
She's so beautiful, with the light from the window behind her, all lit up like a Christmas tree angel
.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” responded nervously. “I… I didn't expect to see you, especially here… in my room.”

“I know, but Major Hansen said I could wait here for you to wake up.”

“Why?” Sam asked bluntly and then, realizing his faux pas, he amended his statement by saying, “I mean, I'm glad you're here, but I thought… I thought no one was allowed in patient rooms.”

“Well, your roommate was discharged today and I… I have something important to tell you,” Amy licked her lips nervously.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh,” Amy bit her lower lip.

Sam still felt a little out of sorts and, looking around again, he asked, “Where's Dad and Janie? I thought they were here too.”

“Ah, yeah, they're ah… they're waiting outside… in the hallway,” she told him. “They were waiting with me, but when you started to wake up, they left so we'd have some privacy.”

“Why? Amy, what's going on?” Sam had a strong sense of trepidation overcome him and then he saw the cast on her wrist. “Oh, God, did I do that to you?”