Touch the Heavens (22 page)

He stroked Chris’s limp hand, trying to pass some of his own body warmth to her cool fingers. Not only did he have to now control his own emotional state, he also had to help Chris realize that she could be blind for the rest of her life. With a deep sigh, Dan leaned back, resting as best he could in the uncomfortable chair, the world closing in on him.

Chris awoke slowly, aware of a dull ache pounding in her head. Her mouth felt dry, as if cotton balls were lodged inside. She tried to lick her chapped lips. The drugs were wearing off, leaving her in a hazy in-between state. With her keen hearing she picked up the sound of jets taking off from not too far away. Blinking, she gradually realized that she wasn’t seeing anything. She was only aware of the fact that there was light. Weakly she raised her arm to touch her eyes.

“Don’t do that,” Dan instructed softly, catching her hand in midair.

“Dan?”

“Better believe it. How do you feel, honey?”

Chris responded to the gentle quality in his tone. His voice was soft, providing a balm to her shattered senses and disorientation. She frowned. “Where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital on Carswell Air Force Base. We had you flown in here yesterday.”

Bits and pieces of the entire jigsaw puzzle of events began filtering into her questioning, groping mind. Slowly Dan reconstructed the series of events, answering her questions. Between explanations, he poured some orange juice into a cup, guiding it to her lips. She drank thirstily, asking for more.

“Help me sit up, will you? I hate feeling like such a weak sister,” she said, holding out her arms in his direction.

Dan smiled, loving her courage. “For you, lady, anything.”

She managed a sliver of a smile for the first time and it buoyed his spirits. “There’s that McCord bs again.”

He brought her into a sitting position, stuffing several pillows behind her back and head. “That’s okay, you’re going to be a McCord real soon yourself, so don’t be making too much fun of the name.”

Chris tilted her head. “You’re right,” she murmured. She grimaced, feeling the threads of panic rising in her throat as the effect of the drugs continued to abate. “My eyes, Dan. What about my eyes?” She touched the bandages carefully. “Is this temporary? I know I took a lot of wind coming down.”

“Yes,” he hedged forcing his voice to remain neutral. Dan gathered her hands, cradling them within his own.

Chris became quiet, her head tilted toward him. Only the tension at the corners of her mouth was evidence of her anxiety. “What’s wrong with my eyes?” she asked, pain etched in her voice.

Dan cleared his throat, taking a better grip on her hands. “We don’t know the extent of the damage yet, Raven.”

Her heart began to pound in her chest. “Damage?” she whispered. “Am I—I—”

“We don’t know, honey,” he reassured her quickly. “It’s too soon—”

Chris gave a small cry, pressing her hands against her mouth. “No! Oh, God, no!” The strangled sounds filled the painful silence seconds afterward.

Dan’s heart wrenched in anguish as he sat there watching her struggle with the reality. He felt her utter helplessness and wanted to console Chris. But there were no words to assuage the terrible anguish apparent on her face and in her voice. He gently captured one hand, squeezing it tenderly.

“Listen,” he began, “it’s too soon to tell, Raven. No matter what happens, I’ll be here. You aren’t alone this time. Do you hear me?” His voice cracked and he compressed his mouth, fighting back his own tears. “I love you, lady. Enough to see us both through this...together.”

“At least I didn’t punch out,” she said hoarsely.

“No, lady. You rode the bird down like a true champ.”

Chris fretted over the bandage on her eyes. “Brodie did it on purpose, Dan. He pulled the T-handle. I didn’t give him permission to eject.”

“He’s being taken care of,” he reassured her tightly. “Right now all I want to do is have you concentrate on regaining your strength. Dr. Chen says you can go home in another day or two.”

“Home?” she questioned, rawness evident in her voice.

Dan rose, sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing her cheek. “Yes, home. To Howard and Melvina’s ranch. The doctor felt since it was going to take another ten days before we knew the extent of your injuries, you would do better in a home environment.” He searched her face, now glistening with tears. “Are you game, Raven? Will you come home with me?”

Chris sobbed, nodding her head. Blindly she reached outward, seeking the safe haven of Dan’s embrace. His strong, protective arms slid around her body, holding her close, assuaging her grief, pain and terror.

He held her for a long, long time, trying to give her the renewed strength and courage that she would need. Kissing her hair, he finally released her from his tight grip. She raised her hand, groping, finding his face. Her fingertips were cool against his jaw.

“I—” she floundered “—I hate not being able to see you, Dan.”

He winced, trying to keep his voice neutral despite the horror he was feeling. “I know, Raven. Now quit fretting like a young filly who’s had a saddle on for the first time.”

“I make a lousy patient, don’t I?” And then Chris raised her head toward him. She extended her hand, caressing his cheek. “I love you, Dan McCord. Kiss me. Please?”

It took every fiber to remain in control of his emotions as he leaned forward, holding her pliant body against his. He brushed her lips with a feathery kiss. “I love you, lady. More than I’ll ever be able to tell or show you,” he whispered against her mouth. The second time he claimed her he imprinted the burgeoning love he had held in until this moment. Hungrily he drank in the warmth of her, tasting the honeylike depths of her mouth. Fire sang through his body as he captured her in a kiss that melded them like hot, tempered steel—steel that would be tested to the limits of their love.

Dan stood tensely at the end of the hospital bed as Dr. Chen slowly unwrapped the bandage from Chris’s face. It had been two harrowing days since they had come to Carswell, and she was showing her impatience at being bedridden. Wisely, the doctor had decided it was time to release her to Dan’s care.

Chris was aware that her palms were growing more sweaty as each layer of gauze fell away. She couldn’t get a straight answer out of Dan or the doctors about her eyesight, adding to her tightly leashed fear and frustration. The only time Dr. Chen would come to check her eyes was at night. And then he would fastidiously use his small flashlight and ask her the same questions again and again. “Is my flashlight on, Captain Mallory?” he would ask.

“Yes.”

“What do you see?”

“Light.”

“Hmm, very good. How about now?”

She frowned, blinking away the tears that always fell when her injured eyes were exposed to the open air. “It’s dark again.”

“And now?”

“Light.”

“Good. Very good.”

She wondered if he was going to go through the same thing today. It was so dark when he would check her that she couldn’t see anything beyond the scope of the light being flashed into her eyes. Today was the first time she would be able to see Dan...to see his smiling face once again. Excitement wound through her, and she could barely keep herself under control. “It will be so good to get this bandage off,” she confided huskily, clasping her hands in her lap.

Dan watched her mobile, expressive face, searching for the marks of the crash that had occurred five days earlier. As the last of the gauze fell away, Dan saw the yellowing of the bruised flesh around her cheekbones and on her brow. Dr. Chen asked her to lean back while he removed the protective pads from her eyes. Dan walked quietly around to the other side of the bed, slipping his hand into hers. She gave him a game smile.

“I bet I look awful. Black eyes and all,” she managed.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Dan parried.

“If you like women with black eyes,” she retorted, hardly able to wait until the last pad was removed. Dr. Chen had warned her sternly to keep her eyes closed until he told her to open them.

“I happen to love you with or without black eyes,” Dan said.

Chris wrinkled her nose. “Masochist.”

“No, just lucky. Now be still while Dr. Chen works on you,” he admonished gently. Dan knew it was her way of showing her nervousness. He saw the four hairline cuts that had been caused by the broken visor, relieved that none had required stitches or plastic surgery. The swelling around her eyes that had frightened him so much was nearly gone. Chen gently placed his thumbs below her eyebrows.

“Hmm, still some fluid retention. But that’s to be expected under the circumstances.” He deftly continued to press around the bones of the upper face until he was satisfied. “Much better, Captain Mallory, much better.”

“Great, can I open my eyes now?”

Chen took out his small flashlight. “Not quite yet. Tell me, do you see a difference of light now?” He pointed the light at her closed lids.

Chris frowned. “I—no...should I?” There was a trace of fear in her voice. She felt Dan grip her hand more solidly.

“Hmm, it may be too soon. All right, I want you to slowly open your eyes, Captain, and focus them straight ahead.”

Dan inhaled softly as her beautiful violet eyes opened. They were still the most unearthly color he had ever seen. But he noticed the bloodshot quality to the white portion of her eyes as her thick ebony lashes opened. Chen leaned forward with another instrument, intently studying them.

“Tell me what you see, Captain.”

Chris blinked several times, aware of tears surging into her eyes. Embarrassed, she raised her hand.

“No, Captain, let them tear. Remember, you’ve been kept in the dark for five days now and they will need time to adjust. Now, tell me what you see.”

Her heart contracted. Her mouth went dry. “Nothing...” she whispered tautly.

Dan scowled, responding to the anguish in her voice. He glanced sharply over at Chen. The doctor didn’t seem overly perturbed by the development.

“Light? Darkness, Captain? Describe it to me,” he ordered.

Tears fell down her cheeks and she blinked rapidly. “I see...like a white wall. Is the opposite wall a white color?”

“No, it’s green, Captain. Now just relax and lay back down. I’ll be looking at your cornea and pupil with an instrument for a moment. It will be painless,” he assured her.

Dejected, Chris remained motionless as the nurse completed putting on a new dressing. Dr. Chen jotted down several notations on his ever-present clipboard. He patted Chris’s arm. “Don’t be too upset at this point, Captain Mallory. Your eyeballs sustained bruising from the wind force. They are still quite red and bloodshot. Many small capillaries were broken. And until they heal themselves, your vision will be impaired. At least your pupils dilate properly, and you can tell the difference between dark and light.”

“Is that good?” she demanded bitterly.

Chen nodded. “Yes, it is.” He looked over at Dan. “You may take her home, Major. Bring her back in ten days. By then, the swelling will be gone, the capillaries healed, and we’ll know better what we’re dealing with.”

“Does that mean I’ll be able to see, then?” Chris asked hopefully, touching her bandages once more.

“I don’t know, Captain. Each case is dependent upon the individual body and its own healing mechanisms. Until then, I’m going to give Major McCord a short course on how to change your bandage daily.” He gave Dan a brief smile. “I think she’ll be happier at your home, Major.”

“I think so, too,” he responded, reaching out and laying his hand on Chris’s shoulder, trying in some way to console her.

Chris wanted to be left alone in her bedroom at Howard and Melvina McCord’s ranch. She had endured the embarrassment of stumbling up the steps despite Dan’s guiding hand and helpful instructions. She had blushed, her face burning as if on fire, and she’d plunged more deeply into depression. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chris clenched her hands together until her knuckles whitened. Anger raged with anxiety within her breast.

Blind? Dr. Chen had matter-of-factly said that he didn’t know if she would ever see again. Her mouth went dry as Chris thought of no longer being able to do the one thing that had helped her escape from the misery of her childhood and a lifetime of loneliness: flying. Her heart wrenched in further agony as she acknowledged another fact: How could Dan love her if she was blind? Would his love turn to pity? Oh, God, she couldn’t stand pity! Unable to sit still any longer, she got up and took halting steps forward, both hands outstretched. The frustration of not being able to see intensified. Finally she made contact with the lace curtains at the window, running her fingers down them, aware of their texture as never before.

How long she stood there mulling over the possible end of her flying Career and the loss of the man she loved so fiercely, Chris did not know. As she turned and carefully traced her steps back to the bed, she was only aware of a heavy weight in her heart and in her anguished soul. Some time later, she lay on the bed and willed herself into sleep to escape a reality she no longer wanted to be part of....

Dan quietly closed the door to the bedroom after checking on Chris. It was nearly eight in the evening. He had let her sleep through supper, realizing she was exhausted from the entire incident. Howard came over, putting his large gnarled hand on his shoulder.

“How is she, son?”

Dan frowned and walked with his uncle to the living room. “Sleeping pretty soundly.”

Howard grunted, nodding his head. “Come on, let’s go sit on the back porch with some good whiskey and watch the sunset.”

Dan nursed the mellow whiskey. He sat in the ancient, hand-carved chair th0at had been a fixture on the porch since he was a boy. Howard had taken another chair, leaning back on it, resting it against the frame of the house, tasting his whiskey with obvious pleasure. Raising one eyebrow, Howard fixed his gaze on Dan. “I can hear you worrying clear over here, son. What’s eating at you?”

Dan turned the heavy tumbler slowly around in his hands. “It’s Chris,” he admitted softly. “She’s slipping away from me, Dad. She’s retreating inside those walls she erected when she was growing up.” Dan pursed his lips, fighting back a wave of fear.