Page 81 of Summer Weddings
Mitch checked his watch a second time and decided to head over to the school. The phone rang as he closed and locked the door, but he resisted the temptation to answer it. The machine would pick up the message, and he’d deal with the call when he returned to the office.
Mitch could hear excited laughter in the distance as the children frolicked in the snow. Chrissie loved playing outside, although there’d be precious little of that over the next few months.
By the time Christmas came, Hard Luck would be in total darkness. But with the holidays to occupy people’s minds and lift their spirits, the dark days didn’t seem nearly as depressing as they might have.
Mitch had just rounded the corner to the school when he saw Bethany. She was half trotting with her head bowed against the wind, her steps filled with frantic purpose. She glanced up and saw him and stopped abruptly.
“Mitch.” Her hand pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, and he noticed for the first time how pale she was. “It’s Chrissie. She’s been hurt.”
The words hit Mitch like a fist. He ran toward her and gripped her by the elbows.“What happened?”
“She fell on the ice and cut herself. The school tried to call you, but you’d already left the office.”
“Where is she?”
“At the clinic…” Bethany’s voice quavered precariously. “I knew you were probably on your way to the school. Oh, Mitch, I’m so afraid.”
It was bad. It had to be, otherwise Bethany wouldn’t be this pale, this frightened. Panic galvanized him and he began running toward the clinic. He’d gone half a block before he realized that Bethany was behind him, her feet slipping and sliding on the snow. Fearing she might stumble and fall, he turned back and stretched out a hand to her. She grasped his fingers with surprising strength.
Together they hurried toward the clinic. It couldn’t have taken them more than two or three minutes to reach the building, but it felt like a lifetime to Mitch. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to Chrissie. His daughter, his joy. She’d given his life purpose after Lori’s death. She’d given him a reason to live.
He jerked open the clinic door, and the first thing he saw was blood. Crimson droplets on the floor. Chrissie’s blood. He stopped cold as icy fingers crept along his backbone.
Dotty Harlow, the nurse who’d replaced Pearl Inman, was nowhere in sight; neither was Angie Hughes.
“Dotty!” he called urgently.
“Daddy.” Chrissie moaned his name, and the sound of her pain pierced his heart.
Dotty stepped out of a cubicle in the back. Her soothing voice calmed his panic as she explained that Chrissie had required a couple of stitches, which she was qualified to do.
Angie, who’d been talking to Chrissie, stepped aside when he came into the room. Chrissie sniffled loudly and her small arms circled his neck; when she spoke, her words came in a staccato hiccupping voice. “I…fell…and cut my leg real…bad.”
“You’re going to be fine, pumpkin.” He pressed his hand to the side of her sweet face and laid his cheek on her hair.
“I want Ms. Ross.”
“I’m here,” Bethany whispered from behind Mitch.
Chrissie stretched out her arms and Bethany hugged her close. Watching the two of them together threatened his resolve, as nothing else could have, to guard his heart against this woman.
“You were very brave,” Dotty told Chrissie, as she put away the medical supplies, and Bethany helped his daughter back into her torn jeans.
“I tried not to cry,” Chrissie said, tears glistening in her eyes, “but it hurt too bad.”
“She’s going to need to take this medication,” Dotty said, distracting Mitch. The nurse rattled off a list of complicated-sounding instructions. Possibly because he looked confused and uncertain, Dotty wrote everything down and reviewed it with him a second time.
“I can take her home?” he asked.
“Sure,” Dotty said. “If you have any questions, feel free to call me or Angie.”
“Thanks, I will.”
“Can I go home now?” Chrissie asked.
“We’re on our way, pumpkin.”
“I want Ms. Ross to come with us. Please, Daddy, I want Ms. Ross.”
