Until I Found You (21 page)

N
ick had never seen
a more haunting sight than Kate coming through the doors to the ER. She was beautiful to him, always. But the tautness of her face revealed a side of her he rarely saw—the terrified child, the woman caught in the BMW. That day he had saved her life; tonight he had failed her. By the grace of God and a veteran CHP officer, he was here now and not in jail. Later he’d tell her the entire embarrassing story, but not yet. His foolishness shamed him, but mostly he needed to hold her a little longer, a little tighter, steadying them both against what lay ahead.

When her arms finally loosened, he asked the question that had rattled in his mind all the way to the hospital. “Leona—how is she?”

“She’s going to be all right.”

Kate relayed Dr. Cole’s assessment of the CT scan and X rays, including the plan for shoulder surgery and the likelihood Leona would spend a few weeks in rehab. The coming days promised to be demanding, and Nick silently vowed to
do a better job of being the man Kate needed. He also wanted to see Leona for himself. “Can we visit?”

“Not now. She’s resting in the ICU.” Worry dimmed her eyes. “Dr. Cole told me to get some sleep and come back in the morning.”

“That’s a good plan.” With his arm around her waist, Nick led her to the exit. “I was here about ten minutes before you came out, so I called Sam. He and Gayle are expecting us.”

“It’s three a.m.” She shuddered a little bit. “Are you sure it’s all right?”

“Positive.”

She stopped a few feet shy of the door and looked back at the entrance to the treatment area. “What if something happens and I have to come back? There’s a hotel across the street. Maybe I should stay there.”

Nick didn’t like the idea at all. He’d passed the hotel earlier and noticed torn drapes and people drinking in the parking lot. “Sam and Gayle live just a few miles away. If the hospital calls, we’ll come back.”

When she didn’t move, he was tempted to scoop her into his arms and carry her to the truck. Instead, he cupped her waist and turned her toward him, locking eyes to make sure she knew he meant business. “Leona’s in good hands. Right now, I’m worried about you. Let’s go to Sam’s. You can change clothes, take a nap, and eat something.”

She graced him with a fragile smile. “Thank you, Nick.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me.”

He intended to help her even more, starting with getting her away from the crowd in the waiting room. All around them people were fidgeting and looking at their watches and phones. The anxiety was contagious, and Kate showed all the signs of the same affliction—pale skin, dull eyes, cold fingers
that trembled against his palms. With his arm tight around her waist, he guided her out to the parking lot. Yet another siren blared in the distance, and Kate shivered against him. “What a horrible night. I don’t know which was worse—the helicopter ride, waiting for the test results, or worrying about you.”

He pulled her close to fight back the chill and her fear, maybe his guilt. “I should have been here two hours ago.”

“So what happened?”

“A little bit of everything.” In painful detail, he described Dody sipping orange juice, how he’d filled the gym bag with clothes, then followed Dody to her house. When he told her about the slowpoke sedan, she groaned. “Even I don’t drive twelve miles an hour.”

No, but she didn’t do a hundred either. His truck was in sight when he told her about the decision to make up for lost time. “Not smart. I got a speeding ticket.”

“Oh no.”

“It took awhile to sort out.”

Oh, man, had it ever. He’d pulled over and instantly admitted guilt, but the CHP officer still ordered him out of the truck. First came the quiz—where had he been? Where was he going? Had he been drinking or doing illegal drugs? There was no evidence of substance abuse, except for the stupidity of going over a hundred miles an hour, but the officer still performed a lengthy field sobriety test. The entire time Nick had begged God for mercy.

In the end, the patrolman wrote the ticket and let him go with a stern lecture. It was a glorious moment until his phone rang five miles down the road and he knew it was Kate. His hands-free device wasn’t set up, so he’d let the call go to voice mail, knowing full well she was sick with worry.

He was furious with himself for being so careless—and
embarrassed, too. He was about to open the truck door when she put her hand over his and faced him. “I feel terrible.”

“Why?”

“You were rushing to get to me. How bad is the ticket?”

“Not too bad.” He’d share the ugly details later. Tonight was upsetting enough for both of them.

“Oh, good.” She let out a breath. “I was worried it would affect your insurance. How fast were you going?”

“It’s not important. I’m here now, and that’s what counts.”

He pulled on the door, but she didn’t move. “I want to know how fast.”

“Kate—”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

Suddenly she looked like Mrs. Garth, the ninth-grade social studies teacher who had sent him to detention for making smart remarks. “I was speeding,” he said again. “I got a ticket and I’m sorry. End of story.”

He did
not
want another lecture. The CHP officer had done a fine job of describing high-speed wrecks and dead bodies. By the time he finished, Nick had been ready to crawl under the truck.

He opened the door an inch, but Kate refused to move. “You were two hours late. How long does it take to write a speeding ticket?”

“Too long.”

“Nick—”

“This isn’t the time. I’m tired and so are you.”

“But I want to know.”

What gave her the right to hassle him? They were dating, not married. Scowling, he matched her haughty gaze with a strong one of his own. After four long seconds, she heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.” Ignoring the hand he offered to help her up, she climbed awkwardly onto the seat.

Nick shut the door forcefully but shy of a slam, then he climbed in on the driver’s side. He’d left the traffic citation folded in the console, and now he saw Kate holding it up to the light and reading. He had a good mind to give her a lecture of his own—one about respecting a person’s privacy. When she spotted the rate of speed, her jaw dropped and she gasped. Their gazes locked in a test of sorts—her misplaced trust versus his pride. “Well, now you know,” he drawled. “I got busted big-time.”

“This says you were going
a hundred and four
miles an hour!”

“It was stupid, I know.”

“It’s more than stupid!”

“Kate—”

“This isn’t just a speeding ticket. It’s for reckless driving.”

“I know what it says.” He was guilty and the ticket proved it, exacting the penance of a high fine, traffic court, and higher insurance rates, maybe a return to Bozo Insurance for Idiots, Teenagers, and High-Risk Drivers. Nick didn’t need Kate to eviscerate him. He’d done it to himself already, and it was time to move on.

With her shoulders high and stiff, she jammed the ticket back in the console. “I can’t believe it. You could have been killed, or you could have killed someone else.”

“I made a mistake,” he snapped back.

“But
a hundred and four
miles an hour! Not only is that crazy, it’s irresponsible.”

“Like I said,” he ground out. “It was a mistake. Considering the circumstances, it wasn’t as terrible as you think.”

“Oh yes, it was!”

His jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He had tried to be her knight in shining armor, and she was treating him like a juvenile delinquent. “I’m a good driver, and you know it.
Besides, I wasn’t going a hundred the whole time. It happened going downhill, and there wasn’t a car in sight.”

“Except the CHP officer who caught you!” She huffed at him. “And just for the record, going downhill is no excuse.”

“Of course not,” he lashed back. “I was driving way too fast, and do you know why? Because of
you
 . . . because you were alone in an emergency room on New Year’s Eve, wearing a dress that drove me
crazy
all night and shoes that should be illegal. Leona could have died, and you would have been alone in a room full of lowlifes. Of course I was speeding. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being vulnerable like that!”

She gave him the Mrs. Garth look again, but her lips were trembling. “I appreciate it, Nick. I really do. But
you could have gotten yourself killed.
”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Everyone I care about dies,” she burst out. “They crash cars and have strokes and—and they don’t come home. I can’t stand it.” She pressed her hands to her mouth to hold back a sob, maybe a cry for help or a burst of anger.

He didn’t know what she was feeling, but the tears in her eyes belied the strain of the night, maybe the strain of her whole life. No matter how fast she blinked, how tightly she pressed her hand to her mouth, she couldn’t stop the terrible shaking of her shoulders. He couldn’t stand to see her this way. All night she had held in her emotions and so had he, even at the dance when he’d restrained himself during their kisses, resisting the urge to move faster than was wise. As for Kate, she’d been on the ragged edge since Dody’s first call.

The anger drained out of him, and compassion flooded his veins in its place. This quarrel wasn’t about the ticket or speeding; it was about Kate learning to trust. She was a new Christian wrestling with faith and fear, and tonight Nick
had contributed to her fear by face planting off the pedestal where she had placed him.

Inhaling slowly, he mellowed his voice. “I really am sorry. I let you down and I know it.”

Stiff-lipped, she nodded but didn’t speak. He wondered if she had accepted his apology or even heard it. He moved to rub her shoulder, but she slid out of reach, furiously shaking her head. He touched her anyway, massaging her tense muscles. “You’ve had a rough night, but it’s going to be all right.”

She jerked away. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“That everything will be all right. You don’t know that.” She was wedged against the door, trapped like an animal in a cage. “Leona could have died tonight. And you . . . you could have been killed.” Her voice was a whisper now, deadly calm and determined. “I grew up without a father. My mom died when I was in college. I’m used to being alone. I can handle it. What I can’t handle”—a single tear spilled down her cheek—“what I can’t handle is being disappointed and left. It’s just too familiar.”

Everything she said was true, and there was nothing he could do about any of it. Hurting, he spoke for them both. “Sometimes life really stinks.”

Nodding slowly, she gave him the saddest look he’d ever seen on her face. “I want my things.”

“Your clothes?”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“I’m going to a hotel.”

Nick gaped at her. “Kate, that’s ridiculous.”

Silent and stoic, she collected her phone and purse, climbed out, and walked to his side of the truck where he’d stashed
the gym bag behind the seat. No way would he let Kate go alone to a ratty motel, but how could he stop her? She was, after all, an adult . . . and a child of God.

A child God loved.

A child He wouldn’t abandon.

As abhorrent as Nick found the thought of Kate being alone, he had to leave her in God’s hands, which meant respecting her wishes—but not without a fight. He got out of the truck and squared off with her. “That hotel really is a dive.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. At least let me drive you someplace decent. This one’s filled with drunken college kids. You won’t get any rest, and frankly I’m not sure it’s safe.”

When her eyes flared, he knew the safety issue had grabbed her attention. But she shook her head. “I have to be close to the hospital. That’s all I care about.”

“Kate—”

She raised her chin. “I want my things.”

No way could he let her go. But he had no choice. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“It’s late. It’s dark.”

“I’ll be fine. The hotel’s just across the street, and it’s well lit.”

“Then I’ll walk with you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then scowled and sealed her lips. The instant he pushed the seat lever, she snatched the gym bag and hobbled away on her high heels, waiflike with the heavy bag dragging on her arm.

He caught up to her in three strides, gripped the bag, and tugged to take it from her. “Let me—”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“But it’s heavy.” When he pulled a little harder, she jerked it
out of his grasp. The bag flew sideways and Kate lost her hold on it. Off balance, she tumbled into his arms. Her shoulders heaved once, twice; a squeak escaped from her throat, then a groan. When she flattened her hands against his chest, he expected to be pushed away. Instead she knotted her fingers in his shirt and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“I c-c-can’t take it!” she whimpered. “I just
can’t
!”

He absorbed the shaking of her body, holding her tight as he stroked her back. “It’s all too much, isn’t it?”

“Y-y-yes . . .” She cried for a long time, clutching his lapels and dampening his shirt with her tears. Finally she wiped her mascara-smudged eyes with her wrist. “My life is falling apart, and I can’t let that happen. I need a plan. Somehow I have to run the
Clarion
, finish at Sutton, and take care of Leona. I don’t see how I can do it all.” She swallowed hard then raised her face to his. “I really do need some time to think. Any hotel is fine. I’ll rent a car.”