A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel (31 page)

I
n slow motion, pieces of the car blew in different directions. TJ sailed into the air, and she grabbed for him even as the impact knocked her to the ground. With her ears ringing, Leigh struggled to get up.
TJ
!
She had to get to him. She scrambled to where his limp body lay on the ground. But it was his leg that she couldn’t tear her eyes from. A jagged bone protruded through the skin, and blood spurted from the wound with every beat of her son’s heart.

Ben knelt beside her. “An ambulance is on the way. What can I do?”

She read his lips more than heard what he said. “He’s bleeding out. I need something to press against his leg.” She looked around frantically. “And something to elevate his leg with.”

Ben shrugged out of his sports shirt then stripped off his white T-shirt and handed it to her. Leigh pressed the soft material above the break, being careful not to touch the open wound.

“Will this do to elevate his leg?” Ben held up her oversized purse.

Leigh hesitated. Did she want to risk moving him? The distant sound of a siren made the decision for her. “We’ll wait. But put it in your truck. I’ll need it at the hospital.”

TJ’s eyes fluttered open. “Mom?”

“Be really still, son.” She continued to apply pressure as the shirt turned bright red. “Take his pulse,” she said to Ben.

“So cold,” TJ murmured and closed his eyes again.

Ben looked at her. “His heart is beating really fast.”

His skin was clammy as well. He was going into shock. “TJ, can you hear me?”

He opened his eyes. “I’m sleepy.”

“I need you to keep talking to me. To stay awake. Okay?”

“My leg . . . it hurts,” he moaned.

Her stomach twisted.
Hurry, ambulance. Hurry.

Minutes later, the ambulance pulled into the parking lot, and paramedics spilled out. One of them knelt beside her and quickly yelled over his shoulder, “We need a pressure gauze here.”

“See if you can get his blood pressure,” Leigh said. She glanced at the paramedic’s name badge. Tim Watkins. “His pulse is very rapid.”

“Dr. Somerall, I didn’t recognize you.” Tim wrapped a small cuff around TJ’s arm. “Do you want me to take over applying pressure?”

“No!” She knew it was irrational, but she didn’t trust anyone else to apply the right amount of pressure. “The bleeding has slowed. Let’s get him transported STAT. Notify the hospital to have at least three units of O negative ready.”

The paramedic sucked in a breath.

“What?” Leigh and Ben asked the question at the same time.

“It’s August. The hospital blood supply is down, especially on the rarer types.”

TJ had lost so much blood and would lose even more during the surgery to set his leg. Without a transfusion, he could die, and he could only be transfused with O negative. “Would you please check it out?”

She pressed her lips together, waiting for an answer. After a minute, Tim shook his head. “One unit. That’s all they have. How about you, Doc? Are you O negative?”

“No. He inherited it from his father’s side.”

“It runs in families . . . any other relatives around?”

She struggled to breathe.
Tell him.

“I’m O negative,” Ben said. “I’ll donate.”

Leigh’s heart stilled in her chest. She looked up, choking down the knot in her throat. “Thanks. Go on to the hospital while we get an IV going. And Tim, call the hospital so they’ll be ready for Ben.”

“TJ,” Ben said, and her son fluttered his eyes open. “Hang in there, son. Everything is going to be all right.”

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as they readied TJ for transport. When they were finished, she looked at the three paramedics prepared to lift TJ on the gurney and then into the ambulance bay. “On the count of three.”

Once they had him loaded, she added a fresh pad to the blood-soaked one. He should have stopped bleeding by now.

“Why don’t you let me apply the pressure,” Tim said. “I’m sure you’re tired, and I have a little more hands-on experience.”

Leigh hesitated. Her arms ached, but giving up control—

“Come on, Doc. If it were anyone else, what would you advise?” The paramedic’s words struck a nerve.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “On the count of three, again.”

They switched positions seamlessly. Leigh knelt beside TJ and laid her hand on his forehead.

He blinked his eyes open. “Don’t tell . . . twins,” he whispered. “But I’m scared.”

“I won’t tell them.” She smoothed his hair back. “We all get scared sometimes. But you’re going to be fine. You’ll have a nice cast all the kids can sign.”

“I like Ben . . .”

TJ’s eyes closed again, and Leigh activated the blood pressure cuff. Much too low. “Tell the driver to hurry.”

A team met them at the ER entrance and rushed him inside. Leigh followed to the examining room, nodding to the surgeon in
charge. Dr. Gordon was a good surgeon. “I think when the bone fractured, it nicked the femoral artery.”

“I’ll take him from here. Do you want to scrub and observe?”

“Thank you, yes!” Dr. Gordon didn’t have to extend the courtesy, and she was certain he didn’t really want a patient’s mother looking over his shoulder. She hurried to the OR suites before he could change his mind, grabbing a pair of scrubs from the supply room. After she changed, she noted on the scheduling board that TJ was in Suite 4.

Once she’d scrubbed, she dried her arms and hands before slipping into a surgical gown one of the scrub nurses held. As she shoved her hands into gloves, another nurse informed her that two units of O negative blood were being sent from the blood bank in Memphis. With Ben’s blood, maybe that would be enough. She couldn’t think about him connecting the dots right now. The nurse stepped behind her and fastened the tabs to the surgical gown. “Thank you.”

Once she had everything in place, she walked toward the operating table, where a unit of blood dripped into TJ’s veins. She faltered at TJ’s still form on the table, where Dr. Gordon worked to repair the damage from the bomb blast.

Icy fingers gripped her throat, and cold spread to her face, making her head spin. Her legs threatened to buckle.

Dr. Gordon spoke without looking up. “I stitched the femoral artery and have set the bone. Next I’ll insert an intramedullary nail into the canal from the hip.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He glanced up, frowning. “If you even suspect you might become ill, leave the operating room immediately.”

Stiffening, Leigh managed a nod. And she would. She didn’t want to endanger TJ by contaminating the sterile field. Pulling on her reserves, she moved closer to observe the surgery. Her gaze focused on Dr. Gordon’s hands as he worked on TJ.

An hour into the surgery, he asked for another unit of blood. That would be Ben’s. As the nurse hooked up the unit of blood, Leigh’s mouth felt as though it’d been swabbed with cotton. Her heartbeat pummeled in her ears. Black dots swam before her eyes as the walls closed in. Leigh backed away from the table.

She could not faint.

“Tell Dr. Gordon I have to have some air,” she mumbled.

Leigh stumbled from the operating room.

A
s Ben strode down the hall toward the operating room, he pressed his cell phone to his ear to better hear his chief deputy. “Take over the investigation until I can get there.”

After Wade assured him that he had everything under control, Ben hung up and hooked the phone on his belt. He itched to get to the crime scene, but not before finding out how Leigh and TJ were. A question scratched at his mind, one he couldn’t even put words to. It was like he had something he was trying to remember on the tip of his tongue.

He sidestepped a door opening, and Leigh stumbled out. She looked as though she didn’t have an ounce of blood in her body. “What’s going on? Is TJ all right?”

Her eyes widened when she saw him, then suddenly she pitched forward.

Ben swept her into his arms and strode to the ER. “She needs a bed and a doctor to check her over,” he said to the first nurse he encountered.

Cathy, from church, glanced up from behind the nurses’ desk. “Bring her this way.”

As he followed the RN toward a room, an orderly stepped toward him. “Let me have Dr. Somerall.”

The strapping orderly took Leigh from Ben’s arms. And not
a minute too soon as the adrenaline rush died, leaving him with trembling arms and insides that felt as though they’d been wrung out. Maybe he needed more than the orange juice and donut he’d been given.

“Didn’t you just give blood? You shouldn’t have lifted her,” Cathy scolded as she led the way to an empty exam room.

“Thanks for the tip,” he shot back, and her face reddened.

“Sorry.”

At the door, she turned to him. “I think I saw some brownies in the nurses’ lounge. That might help.”

“But I want—”

“Get some OJ while you’re at it. I’ll call you back when the doctor is finished.”

He backed away from the door. “Of . . . course.”

In the lounge, he drank a large glass of juice and tackled the brownies. The door opened, and a nurse he didn’t recognize entered. “Can you tell me how Dr. Somerall is? And her son, TJ?”

She hesitated.

“I’m Sheriff Logan. They were with me when the car blew up.”

Understanding lit her eyes. “Oh. I didn’t recognize you. Dr. Somerall is alert now, but I’m not certain about her son.”

Ben’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he slipped it out. Sarah. That reminded him that he needed to call Emily and his mother.

“Ben, I heard about the explosion. Leigh doesn’t answer her phone.” Sarah’s panicky voice crackled over the line. “No one will tell me if they’re all right.”

“Leigh’s okay and TJ is in surgery. Where are you?”

“In the ER waiting room.”

“I’ll be right there.”

When he passed the desk, Cathy flagged him down. “Dr. Somerall is fine. Just got woozy in the OR. We’re going to roll her down to the surgical ICU waiting room.”

He nodded. “Inform her that her friend Sarah is here, and we’ll meet her there.”

He turned to leave.

“Oh, wait, Sheriff. Dr. Somerall said you had her identification.”

“Yes, it’s in my truck. I’ll get it.”

When he strode through the ER double doors, he spied Sarah at the desk.

She hurried toward him, worry clouding her eyes. In her hand she gripped a canvas tote bag. “What happened?” she asked.

He guided her toward the hallway that led to the ICU. “I don’t know yet. Leigh’s car blew up, but she’s all right. TJ is in surgery. His leg is broken, and he lost a lot of blood.”

“Where’s Leigh? Is she in surgery with him?”

“No. She was, but she almost fainted. She should be in the surgical ICU waiting room by now.”

A few minutes later, they rounded the half wall that divided the waiting room from the hallway just as Leigh arrived from a different direction. Sarah bent over and hugged her. “How’s TJ?” she asked as soon as Leigh was settled in a corner chair.

“He was stable when I . . . became faint and had to leave.”

She glanced at Ben, and he handed her the purse. “What’s in this thing to make it so heavy?”

“My netbook. Thanks.”

Ben nodded. “What happened that made you faint?”

She rolled her lips in and took a deep breath. “They were hanging a unit of blood, and everything seemed to come unglued.” She blinked away the wetness that appeared in her eyes. “It was the blood you gave. Thank you. With the shortage, I don’t know what—”

“Don’t. I’m just glad we’re a match.”

A soft gasp came from Sarah’s lips, and he glanced sharply at her. “Is something wrong? You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

With her gaze on Leigh, the older woman shook her head. “I
. . . didn’t know there was a shortage. Maybe I can donate? I’m O positive.”

Leigh placed her hand on Sarah’s. “Wrong type, but thanks. The blood bank in Memphis is sending two units of O negative.”

Sarah shook Leigh’s hand off. “You—”

“Ben, do you think you can find coffee around here? I think we all could use some. And when you come back, I’d like to talk about who blew up my car. Do you have any leads?”

He didn’t need a lead. His gut shouted Jonas Gresham. “Wade’s working on it, and I’ll be joining them as soon as TJ’s operation is over. Be right back with your coffee.”

Leigh held up her hand. “If you need to leave, go. I’ll get our coffee.”

The relief in her voice puzzled him, just like the vibes between the two women. “Sit tight,” he said. “You just fainted a little bit ago, and five minutes won’t make any difference.”

With one last glance at the two women, Ben rounded the corner. He knew a station with real coffee, not the instant in the waiting room refreshment center. Something was going on between the two women, something more than the stress of what had happened, and when he returned, he intended to find out what it was.

Before he’d walked far, his cell phone beeped a text, and he stopped in the hallway beside the waiting room. It was from Wade.
How’s
TJ?
As he started to reply, Sarah’s voice lifted over the open wall that separated the waiting room from the traffic coming into the hospital.

“He deserves to know he’s TJ’s father, Leigh.”

Leigh’s response was lost as the question that had been trying to surface in his brain exploded. Of all the people in Logan Point, what were the odds of him and TJ sharing the same rare O negative blood? Sarah’s words gave him his answer.

TJ was his son.

Everything fell into place.

Leigh’s reluctance for TJ to be around his family, that quirky smile he’d seen in his own mirror.

She’d lied to him. For ten years, she’d lied to him.

He wheeled and rounded the corner, pinning his gaze on Leigh. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide.

“Why?” He gritted his teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t do this now, Ben.”

“You owe me an explanation.”

She closed her eyes. “Ask your dad,” she whispered as tears rimmed her eyes.

Dad?

His father knew all these years, and he didn’t tell him either? And now he couldn’t?
Wait.
If Dad knew, then so did Mom. If Leigh wouldn’t tell him the truth, maybe his mother would. He turned to Sarah. “Call me if there’s any change in TJ.”

Leigh paced the floor in the waiting room. She’d heard nothing from Ben since he’d left an hour ago. TJ’s surgery should be over soon. Every time she looked at Sarah, her friend teared up and tried to apologize again. The mess she was in wasn’t Sarah’s fault. Leigh should have told Ben years ago. At the very least, this last week.

“Oh, Leigh, I almost forgot.” Sarah picked up a canvas tote bag from beside her chair. “I picked up Tony’s mail.”

Leigh stopped pacing to take the bag.
Tony’s mail?
Leigh rubbed her temple then remembered she’d asked Sarah to empty his PO box. The black phone in the waiting room trilled. The volunteers who manned the phones had long since gone home, so Leigh grabbed it, thinking it might be the OR nurse. The voice on the other end asked for the Duncan family, and Leigh’s shoulders slumped.

“They were moved to a room,” she said, her voice flat. When would they be in a room? TJ would stay in ICU overnight at the very least. She pulled letters from the bag.

“No, I don’t know what room,” she said, flipping through the mail. Her hand stilled at Tony’s familiar handwriting. She hung up and turned to Sarah. “Why would Tony mail himself a letter?”

“Open it and see.”

Before she could open the letter, footsteps sounded in the hallway. She stared at the corner, half hoping, half fearful, that it would be Ben.
Ian.
Danny and someone she didn’t recognize trailed behind him. She slid the envelope into a pocket in her scrubs and stood.

“I’m so sorry,” Ian said, wrapping her in a hug. “How is TJ? And how are you holding up?”

She leaned into his hug. “He has a broken leg. The nurse called earlier and said the surgery was in the final phase. Probably another thirty minutes before they’ll be finished and I can see him. How did you know?”

“The receptionist at the plant called while we were driving home from the Memphis airport. I can’t believe it. Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“I’m woozy, but nothing serious.” Her glance slid past Ian to Danny to the stranger.

“I’m sorry,” Ian said. “This is Geoffrey Franks.”

The one who took over Tony’s job.

Franks bobbed his head. “I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened.”

“Thank you.” Where her brother had never looked much like an executive, Franks did. The dark eyes that stared from his angular face seemed to be permanently serious. She fingered the envelope in her pocket. “Would you excuse me a minute. I need to . . .” She glanced toward the restroom.

Ian’s face colored. “Of course.”

Inside the restroom, she ripped into the envelope and pulled out a white business-sized envelope with Ben’s name on it. A small flash drive fell on the floor.

Leigh picked it up. The missing flash drive. It had to be. She
closed her fingers over it. What was on it that could be worth a child’s life?
Get it to Ben.
She quickly dialed his number, and it went to voice mail.

Leigh slid the drive in her pocket where it would be safe until she could get it to him. Someone knocked at the restroom door, and she stuffed the letter back in the envelope and slid it in the same pocket with the flash drive.

She stared at her swollen eyes in the mirror and splashed water on her face then wet a paper towel and pressed it to her eyelids. The cool dampness eased the throbbing. Then, she straightened her scrubs, pulling the shirt past the pocket, and returned to the waiting room. “Sorry to take so long,” she said to the woman standing at the door.

“Sarah was saying she emptied Tony’s box at the post office,” Ian said as she sat down. “I imagine it was quite full.”

“Not so much.” The thick letter she’d stuffed in her pocket pressed stiffly against her thigh. With a casual movement she pulled it from the pocket and placed it in the canvas bag beside her chair. She froze as her gaze shifted to a spot on the carpet. The flash drive lay between the chair and the bag. It must have been caught in the envelope and dropped out.

Her heart thumped as she leaned over and scooped it up and returned it to her pocket. She didn’t understand the urgency that pushed her to keep the drive secret until she could hand it over to Ben. Tony had died because of it, and that was reason enough.

Leigh jumped as the doors to ICU opened, and Dr. Gordon strode through them. She hurried to meet him halfway with Sarah trailing right behind her. “How is he?”

“Doing well, and the surgery went perfectly. Your son should have no residual effects from his injuries other than a cast for a couple of months.” He patted her shoulder. “We brought him straight to ICU rather than take him to recovery. Give us a few minutes, and you can go to his room.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Gordon.”

He disappeared back through the stainless steel doors, and she wrapped her arms around Sarah. “Did you hear him? TJ’s going to be okay.”

“Praise God,” Sarah said softly.

“Yes, praise God.” Joy bubbled from her chest. Another arm went around her shoulders as Ian joined them. She turned to him with wet eyes. “TJ’s going to be okay.”

“I heard.”

“Thank you so much for coming. It means so much to me.”

The skin around his blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I had to make sure you were okay.” He nodded at the other two men. “After I drop Danny and Geoffrey at the plant, can I bring you something to eat?”

She hadn’t even thought of food and glanced at the clock on the wall. It couldn’t be eight-thirty. “The grill is still open. Sarah can go down and get us something before it closes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and thank you for coming.”

The men stood, and Leigh walked with them to the hallway. Ian turned to her. “Will you call me if you need anything?”

“Yes.”

He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and tears stung her eyes once again. She turned as the nurse called her name.

“Go,” he said.