Emergency Response (11 page)

ELEVEN

D
arcie stared at Noah's bandaged arm and the image of his arm engulfed in flames came rushing back. “What did the doctor say?”

Noah offered her a casual smile and dropped into the large recliner in the firehouse family room. “It's no biggie. A little cream and change the bandage on a regular basis, and I'll be good to go.”

She was a nurse. An EMT. And she knew he was downplaying the injury for her benefit. “Really, that's all he said? It looked like it might be third degree.”

He shrugged. “So where is everyone?”

Darcie didn't miss his change in subject, but she knew he wasn't going to say anything more about the arm so she went with it. “I gave Isabel a bath and Pilar's getting her dressed. Skyler's in the office. I'm sure you ran into Archer in the hallway. The rest of the team is on duty.”

He frowned.

“What's wrong?”

“I'd hoped Archer and Skyler would stick closer to you while I was at the ER.”

She resisted sighing. “They tried, but I shooed them away.”

“I don't like you being alone.”

“So you've said, but after the day we had today, I needed time to reflect and pray. Besides, Archer met you at the door, didn't he?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Noah!” Isabel cried out from her wheelchair, as Pilar pushed her into the room. “You're back. I'm going to read to Darcie. Do you want to listen, too?”

Isabel was as excited to see Noah as Darcie had been when he'd returned from his doctor's visit. Darcie hadn't wanted him to go to the ER without her. Partly because she'd wanted to ensure he was getting the best medical care possible, but mostly because she'd been worried for his safety and had wanted him where she could see him. Ha! The shoe was now on the other foot. Not that she thought she could protect him, but at least if he was with her, she'd know what was happening with him.

“Now, Isabel,” Pilar warned. “Detective Noah's a busy man.”

Noah waved off her concern. “I'm happy to listen.”

“And your arm? It is okay?” Pilar asked.

“It's fine.” He looked at Isabel. “So tell me where you want to sit, princess, and I'll help you get settled.”

“By Darcie.” She clutched to her chest a large Bible storybook that she'd brought from home.

Noah scooped her up from the chair and gently settled her onto the thick cushion.

Darcie looked at Pilar. “I'll put her to bed when we're done so you can go on up.”

“You are sure? She is taking up so much of your time.”

“I love caring for Isabel,” Darcie said as she inhaled the sweet scent of Isabel's shampoo. “You never have to worry about that.”

“Then good night to all of you.” Pilar smiled, but Darcie could see it took effort. At her age, the gunshot had sapped all of her strength and it was taking time to recover. Plus she'd had to care for Isabel while Darcie went to Eugene.

Noah sat back down in the recliner and Isabel squirmed into a comfortable position. Her soft curls tickled Darcie's chin and her warm little body pressed against Darcie's side. Isabel opened the book and placed it across her lap. She flipped to the story of Jonah and his reluctance to do God's will.

Darcie's arm automatically went around Isabel's shoulders and drew her even closer. Darcie sighed out her happiness, drawing Noah's attention. His focus remained on her, but she ignored him and concentrated on Isabel.

“Do you want me to read?” Darcie asked.

“I'll read the first page and you can read the next one,” Isabel replied.

She slid a finger along the first line and started the story. They alternated pages as Isabel had requested and Darcie only had to help Isabel pronounce a few words.

At the end of the story, Isabel looked up, her forehead wrinkled. “Did Jonah go to rehab?”

“Rehab?” Darcie asked, trying to hide her disgust over sweet little Isabel knowing about rehab at her age.
“Why would he go to rehab?”

“For not listening to God.” Isabel scrunched up her face. “
Abuelita
says if I don't listen I could have the same problem as Mommy. She didn't listen to
Abuelita
and took drugs. Now she's in rehab. If Jonah doesn't listen, he might take drugs, too.”

Isabel's misunderstanding would be funny if it wasn't so sad. Darcie spent the next thirty minutes explaining about drugs. She felt Noah watching and listening, and despite his intense interest, she found herself enjoying the opportunity to help Isabel. But the time was short-lived as Isabel yawned broadly and her eyes became droopy.

“Time for bed, sweetheart.” Darcie closed the book and gently took it from Isabel's hands.

“Will you tuck me in again?”

Darcie nodded as she stood.

“Yay.” Isabel scooted off the couch and managed to come to a wobbly stance. She stared at Noah. “Darcie's going to tuck me in.” She suddenly lurched forward and threw her arms around Noah's neck.

Isabel bumped his arm and a moment of pain flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with surprise. His arms came around her back and a look of contentment settled on his face. He was a natural with her, and Darcie knew he'd be a good father. But then so was Tom and look at how that had turned out.

“Let's go, sweetie,” Darcie said to Isabel.

She pushed back and planted her hands on the side of his face. “I like you, Noah. You're my friend.”

“You're my friend, too, princess,” he replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Darcie helped Isabel brush her teeth in the kitchen so they didn't wake Pilar, then maneuvered the girl into her chair and they took the elevator upstairs.

“I like you, Darcie.” Isabel threw her arms around Darcie and hugged her hard as she'd done with Noah.

“I like you, too, sweetie.” Darcie held Isabel's warm little body and sighed in contentment. Her arms had been empty for so long.

Darcie eased free. “Now we need to sneak you into the bed without waking up your
Abuelita
. Can you be extra quiet?”

Isabel nodded solemnly. Once settled in the bed, Isabel hugged Darcie again. A great longing ripped into Darcie's heart and tears threatened to fall. She eased free before she started crying in front of Isabel. Darcie kissed the child on the nose and pulled up the covers before silently leaving the room as her heart swelled with affection for Isabel and broke for Haley at the same time.

How she missed sharing this closeness with Haley. The bond of motherhood was unlike any other bond. Raising up a child in faith. Being there to share the good times. The joys and happiness. Working through the pain. Skinned knees, friends who hurt feelings and discipline when she chose the wrong path.

All of it. Everything. Darcie had loved it all with Haley. Was loving it now with Isabel.

Back in the condo living room, Darcie's tears started falling in earnest. She wrapped her arms around her waist and slid to the floor, where she tucked up her knees and clasped them hard. She sobbed silently. Deep, racking, pain-inducing spasms of tears. She hadn't cried like this for years. Thought she was over it. Her grief stored away in the neat compartment in her brain.

Why, Father? Why again? Why now?

What was He trying to tell her? Had she not fully accepted her loss? Was her vow never to risk the pain again, never to risk a commitment to another child, never to risk losing that child, really just a way to delay the finality of her loss?

Flashes of her life with Haley flooded her brain. Birth. Baptism. First steps. Growing. School. Her final moments. Lying lifeless, so still while doctors Darcie had worked side by side with performed CPR. Then they had given up. Raised apologetic eyes to Darcie. Her heart had creased so deeply the crevice remained etched like the Grand Canyon. And it would always remain.

She couldn't love again. Not another child. Not another man. Not Noah.

She dried her tears with her sleeve and got up to go back downstairs. She stopped at the door. She couldn't face Noah with blotchy red eyes. With emotions so raw, they felt like a living, breathing thing.

She trudged to the sofa, dropped onto it and pulled up her covers.

No, she wouldn't go down to see Noah when she was so vulnerable, or he might urge her to move on, when she clearly wasn't ready for such a huge step.

* * *

An hour passed and Noah had taken to pacing as he waited for Darcie. He was starting to think something was wrong. She'd never leave him down here without giving him the bedding she stored in her condo during the day, right?

He wanted to race upstairs, but he'd give her more time before intruding. He continued his pacing, stepping back and forth in front of the massive fireplace. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Still no Darcie.

His chest tightened with concern. Enough. He was going after her. Now.

At the stairway, he grabbed the metal railing without thinking. Razor blades of pain radiated up the nerves in his damaged arm. The doctor who'd treated his burns had offered pain meds, but they were known to cause drowsiness and Noah wasn't about to take them when Darcie relied on his protection.

She needed him. Or maybe he just wanted her to need him...because he'd come to care for her.

The realization him like a freight train, stalling his feet. He thought to deny it, but why? It was better to know about it so he could be on guard around her because nothing had changed. They couldn't be together. Even if he told her everything and she accepted the way he'd treated Ashley. Accepted that he'd so easily given up his rights to his child. Both big
if
s.

He wouldn't bring another child into this world until he repaired his relationship with Evan and made sure he had a chance to learn about the Christian faith. The way things were going with that, it wouldn't change very soon.

Sure, Darcie claimed she'd never have another child, but he saw her longing tonight with Isabel. Longing that after more time passed would break through her resolve. Then she'd want a child—children—and he couldn't provide them for her.

“So keep your feelings to yourself,” he warned himself. “Don't lead her on.”

He took a few deep breaths and blew them out. Waited a few more moments until his emotions were back on an even keel, then headed up the steps and tapped lightly on the door in case she was asleep. It wasn't long before he heard her footsteps coming his way. She opened the door and peered up at him with red and swollen eyes.

“I'm sorry I didn't come back downstairs,” she said before he could ask. “I'm beat and just want to go to bed.”

“I understand.” But he didn't. Not really. Something was up that she didn't want to share with him and it hurt.

“Well, I should...” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

“Could I get the bedding for the couch?”

“Oh, right. I'm sorry. How could I forget?” She shook her head. “Hang on, I'll be right back.”

She quickly returned and shoved the bedding into his arms like she was shoving him out of her life. Her hand smacked his injured arm.

“Argh,” he said before he could control his reaction, then bit down on his lip to ride out the pain.

Her gaze searched his face. “Your arm. I hit it, didn't I?”

“No biggie,” he managed to get out when all he wanted to do was shout or hit something until the pain receded. He turned to leave. “Good night, Darcie.”

“I'm coming with you.”

He spun. “What about going to bed?”

“I want to take a look at your arm.”

Her touch, when his emotions were already running high, was the last thing he needed. “The doctor said it's fine and to change the dressing tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well...” She crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “I'm not going to accept that until I've taken a good look at it myself.”

“Not necessary,” he said and headed down the hall.

She jerked her door closed and caught up to him. Maybe she was experiencing the same needs he was facing. He felt compelled to use his skills to make sure she was safe. Perhaps she needed to use her training to make sure his arm healed.

She took the steps before him and he trailed her down, the echo of their footsteps ringing through the quiet firehouse. She marched into the family room with purpose in her steps and gestured at the sofa.

“Sit,” she commanded. “I'll grab my bag from the equipment room and be right back.”

With her tone, he didn't even think twice about complying. He dropped the bedding on one end of the couch and sat on the other end. She soon returned carrying a large tote bag.

“Don't tell me I'm going to need all of that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You'd better hope not or that means you've messed up the arm in record time.” She dropped the bag on the floor and pulled up a padded ottoman.

She held out her hand. “Your arm. Now.”

“I never knew you could be so bossy.”

“Trust me. Living with so many bullheaded guys around, you learn to stand up for yourself real quick.” She jiggled her hand. “Come on.”

He leaned forward, giving her access to his arm. She gently removed the dressing, but the simple touch further irritated his damaged nerves. To keep it under control, he focused on the top of her head. Several strands of hair had come out of her ponytail and stuck out like porcupine quills. He wanted to tuck them back in. Not something he should, or would, do.

She tsked and gazed up at him with a look his mom had often used when he'd done something wrong. “Some of your blisters have broken and you've soaked through this dressing. Didn't the doctor tell you to change it if that happened?”

“Yes.” He didn't tell her it was fine a moment ago because then she would know the jolt from her hand had likely caused the blisters to rupture.