Warrior's Embrace (16 page)

“Sorry, Glenda, there’s something very
important that I have to do.”

“This had better be a matter of life or
death, or I’ll never forgive you.”

“It’s a matter of life, Glenda... my
life.”

The room was filled with flowers. If Virginia
hadn’t known better she might have thought she was merely stopping
for the night in a small-town motel. She loved promoting her books
in small towns. The people went all out, showering her with gifts
and flowers and special attention. There were framed resolutions
and keys to the city plastered all over her office walls back
home.

Back home.

Virginia looked at the plastic band on her
arm. Virginia Haven, room 335, North Mississippi Medical
Center.

She wasn’t promoting a book; she was in the
hospital. And no matter how many bouquets Jane and Candace dragged
into the room, nothing was going to change. She felt the lump of
fear rising in her chest. Automatically, she reached for her cup on
the bedside table, but nothing was there.

“Patients scheduled for surgery can’t have
water,” the nurse had told her.

She was a patient. She was going to be put to
sleep then carried into a room where doctors would carve her like a
Thanksgiving turkey.

“Hi,” Jane said. “We’re back.”

Jane and Candace came into the room, almost
hidden behind the enormous bouquets they carried.

“That was your mysterious errand?” Virginia
said. “More flowers?”

“There’s a bare spot over by the closet door
that needs a homey touch,” Jane said.

She kept her back to the hospital bed,
fussing with the flowers as if she were an expert in floral
arrangement. Until the moment she had helped check Virginia into
the hospital, Jane had been a brick. But the sight of her friend in
the narrow white bed had been more than she could bear. She was
constantly inventing errands—running to the cafeteria to get
Virginia a candy bar to have when she got out of the recovery room,
haunting the gift shop for crystal animals, buying every pink rose
in town. The glass menagerie sat on the windowsill where it could
catch the sun and make rainbows on the wall.

“What do you think, Candace?” Jane said.

“It looks fine,” Candace said.

She sat in the chair farthest from the bed,
her expression forlorn. Virginia knew that Candace needed comfort
and reassurance, but she had nothing left to give, not to her
daughter, not to anybody.

“No, I think there’s still a bit of tacky
white wall showing,” Jane said as she barreled toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Virginia said.

“Just down to the corner to see if they have
any more pink roses,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be right
back.”

Even her best friend couldn’t stand to be
around her. Something inside Virginia snapped.

“I don’t want pink roses,” Virginia said, her
voice rising on every word. “I’m not in my coffin yet!”

Jane crumpled to the chair beside the door.
Tears the size of marbles stood in her eyes.

“I never thought that flowers would remind
you of a funeral.”

“Well, they do.”

The two friends couldn’t bear to look at each
other, not because of anger but because of love that overwhelmed
them both. Friends since the day they shared the same table at
kindergarten, they had shared everything—dating, marriage, birth,
divorce, careers. But this one thing, they could not share—the
specter of death. Jane had walked as far as she could with her
friend, but Virginia had to make the rest of the journey alone.

“I’m sorry, Virginia. I just didn’t
think.”

Anger boiled and tumbled through Virginia
taking away everything in its path. She reveled in the blessed
respite.

“It’s high time for you to start thinking,
Jane. I may not always be here to do it for you.”

“Mother!” Candace bolted toward the door.

“Candace,” Virginia called.

Candace turned around. “I can’t stand this.
It’s bad enough without the two of you yelling at each other.”

Three days ago Virginia would have handled a
situation like this with ease. That was before she became a major
player in the drama.

“That’s all right, Candace.” Jane put her arm
around Virginia’s daughter. “You go on down to the cafeteria and
get a cup of coffee. I’ll stay here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Go on, now. I’ll let you know as soon
as your mother is out of surgery.”

After Candace left, Jane leaned against the
wall, fatigue etched in every line of her body. Virginia wadded the
sheets in her fists, pressed them smooth, and wadded them again. A
cart rattled down the hall, and from the room next door came a
cheerful voice describing lunch.

“We have some delicious chicken broth for you
today, Mrs. Mackey.” More rattling as the cover was lifted from the
dish. “Here, let me help you with that bed.”

Jane quietly closed Virginia’s door, shutting
out the sounds.

“Thanks,” Virginia said.

“Don’t mention it.”

Jane picked up a magazine and sank into her
chair. Agonizing minutes crept by.

“What time is it?” Virginia asked.

Jane glanced at her watch. “Half past
one.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“They never get to you on time. Dr. Mason
said you might have to wait.”

“I’m sick of waiting. I want to get it over
with and get out of here.” Virginia looked down at herself. The
pink gown she had worn that morning was gone, and in its place was
a blue cotton hospital gown, a stark reminder that she would soon
be in surgery.

“I’m sick of it all,” she said.

They started crying at the same time. Jane
bolted out of her chair and collapsed on the bed with her arms
wrapped around Virginia.

“What would I ever do without you?” Virginia
whispered.

“Don’t you dare try to find out. Do you hear
me, Virginia Haven? Don’t you dare even think about leaving
me.”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

The door opened and Dr. Mason came inside.
With his wild white hair and his wire-framed glasses, he looked
more like a mad scientist than the genial OB- GYN who had delivered
more babies than anyone else in Tupelo.

He took one look at them, got the tissue box
off the dressing table, and handed it to Jane. She ripped off a
piece and handed it to Virginia.

“It will just be a little while, now,
Virginia.”

“Good.” She wiped her face and blew her nose.
“I’m tired of waiting. I just want to get it over with.”

“The surgeon will be in to talk with you, but
I wanted to see you first. There will be a pathologist in surgery.
If he thinks this thing is malignant, I want your permission to go
ahead and do a radical.”

Wasn’t it enough that they wanted to cut
chunks out of her? Now they were talking about cutting off her
breast... and they wanted her permission.

“Can he tell by looking?” she asked.

“Not with a hundred percent accuracy. It
takes lab tests to do that.”

“How long will the tests take?”

“Three days. Three days that could be very
important to you, Virginia.”

Three more days of waiting, three more days
of the agony of not knowing. But waiting was preferable to the
alternative, waking with her breast gone.

“No,” she said. “I won’t sign.”

“Virginia, it would be easier for you to do
everything while you’re still under anesthesia. Dr. Wayne is a very
good pathologist. He’ll know as soon as he sees this thing.”

“What if he’s wrong? What if he makes a
mistake? Has he ever made a mistake?”

“We’re all human, Virginia.”

“I’m not going to sign. Three days won’t make
that much difference, and if they do, that’s a risk I’ll just have
to take.”

“All right, Virginia. We’ll do a frozen
section. I know you too well to argue with you.” Dr. Mason smiled.
“Nobody would be that foolhardy.”

Suddenly Virginia thought of the one man who
was—Bolton Gray Wolf. Call him foolhardy, call him stubborn, call
him courageous. He had stood up to her, argued with her, fought for
the right to love her.

Where was he now? If he knew what was
happening, would he still fight for her?

Foolish question. Foolish hope. Virginia
forced thoughts of Bolton aside. She needed every ounce of her
energy, both mental and physical, to deal with what lay ahead.

“No,” she said. “Nobody would be that
foolhardy.”

Dr. Mason patted the sheet that covered her
arm. “I’ll see you back here in a few hours.”

“Couldn’t we meet somewhere else, Doc? Paris?
London?”

“Atta girl, Virginia. Chin up.”

No sooner had he left than they heard the
gurney being wheeled toward her room. A strange calm settled over
Virginia.

“This is it, kid,” she said to Jane.

“I know.” Jane squeezed her hand.

“I don’t want you worrying.”

“I won’t,” Jane said, her voice muffled by
the tissue she held to her nose.

“You never could lie worth a flip.”

“Neither could you.”

The sounds were closer now, right outside the
door. Any minute Virginia would begin her long journey...
alone.

“Jane, do you believe in prayer?”

“I don’t
not
believe it.”

The door swung open and the bed that would
bear her away came into view.

“Say a prayer for me,” she whispered.

Bolton had flown the distance from Arizona to
Mississippi without incident, and now Virginia’s security guard
wouldn’t let him through the gate.

“Sorry, sir. No visitors.”

“You remember me, don’t you, Jim?”

“I sure do. Hard to forget that face.”

“She’s not expecting me, but I’m sure if you
call the house, she’ll tell you to let me in.”

Jim shook his head. “Sorry, sir.”

Bolton had expected resistance from Virginia,
but never from Jim. He knew the kind of security system she had. It
was formidable but not impregnable. The wall would present no
challenge to a man who had scaled mountains.

Still, breaking and entering was not the
ideal way to approach Virginia Haven.

“I could lie to you, Jim. I could tell you
that I had come back to finish the interview with Virginia. But I
won’t do that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Instead I’m going to tell you why I want to
see her and why I won’t leave until I do.”

He had Jim’s attention, but that was all.
Bolton had been reading body language for many years, and if he
read Jim correctly, the old man had no intention of being
persuaded. Still, it was worth a try.

“I love Virginia, and I want her to be my
wife. I believe she loves me, too, but it’s going to take a while
to convince her that we can have a good future together.” Bolton
made an eloquent gesture, hands out, palms up. “I have nothing to
hide, Jim. I’m just a simple man in love with the most wonderful
woman in the world.”

Jim fiddled with the ring of keys on his
belt, then cleared his throat.

“I guess I shouldn’t tell you this.”

The cold fingers of premonition squeezed
Bolton’s chest.

“Tell me what, Jim?”

“Miss Virginia’s not here.”

“I don’t mind waiting. When will she be
back?”

“Lordy, Lordy, I wish I knew...” Jim coughed,
then pulled out a red bandanna and blew his nose. “Miss Virginia’s
in the hospital.”

o0o

Bolton broke all the speed limits. At the
hospital he had no trouble finding out Virginia’s room number, but
that was all he knew. It was the things he didn’t know that nearly
drove him mad.

Too anxious to wait for the elevator, he
raced up the stairs two at a time. The door to room 335 was
slightly ajar. He paused to mentally gear himself for the sight of
his beloved Virginia in a hospital bed, and then he strode
through.

“Bolton!” Jane put her hand over her chest.
“You nearly scared me to death.”

He glanced from Jane to the bed. It was
empty, the sheets tightly tucked and smooth.

“Where’s Virginia?”

“Sit down, Bolton.”

Everything about Jane set off alarm bells,
her haggard face, her slumped shoulders, her red-rimmed eyes. He
pulled the chair away from the wall and sat facing her.

“Where’s Virginia?”

“In surgery.”

“Why?” Jane stared at him, her face bleak. “I
want to know everything, Jane. Don’t leave out the smallest
detail.”

“Do you love her, Bolton?”

“Yes, Jane. I love her. She’s my heart, my
soul, my very life.”

“All right, then.” Jane drew a deep breath.
“This is really Virginia’s place to tell you, but I don’t care, I’m
doing what I think is best.... Don’t you think I ought to do what I
think is best for the friend I love so much that if anything
happens to her I won’t be worth a hill of beans, ever again?”

“Yes.”

As the story unfolded, Bolton understood why
Virginia had fled from the mountain, understood why she had refused
his calls, why she had sent the text. Loving her so much that their
souls were connected, he knew her fear, felt her pain.

“That’s about it, Bolton,” Jane said,
concluding her story. “The bottom line here is that my best friend
may have cancer. If this makes a difference to you, leave now,
before Virginia comes back.”

Cancer.
The word weighed Bolton down
so that he could hardly move. How could he fight an enemy so
insidious?

“No,” he said, as if with one word he could
deny that he might lose the woman he’d searched for all his
life.

o0o

Virginia’s first awareness was of the
chill.

“I’m cold,” she whispered, her eyes so heavy,
she couldn’t hold them open.

She felt a warm blanket being spread over her
legs and tucked gently under her chin.

“Is that better?”

The voice was deep and musical, a male voice.
So like Bolton’s, she thought. So very much like Bolton’s.