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Adam's Promise
Gail Gaymer Martin


Accomplished surgeon Adam Montgomery is every nurse' s nightmare– and especially for Katharine Darling, his colleague in Doctors Without Borders. Though warm with patients, the arrogant doctor is cold with his staff.But after Adam barely survives several attempts on his life, his gruff manner changes under Kate' s tender care. Yet Kate hides her deeper feelings for him, certain that his wealthy family can never accept a woman with a past. Will the transformed doctor show the woman he' s fallen for that he needs her as a workmate… and a wife?









The lecture he’d heard before he came to Doctors Without Borders rose in his mind. Staff needed the ability to work together and live as a team, to manage stress, to be tolerant and flexible.


Flexibility was for the nurses and technologists, not surgeons, but here, he had to adjust.

Instead of heading back toward the nurses’ station, Adam headed for the dispensary to carry back a few supplies. He dug into his pocket for the dispensary key, but as he neared the doorway, he saw it was ajar.

Who would leave the room unlocked? He picked up his pace and pushed open the door.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.

A shot tore through him. Heat and pain seared his flesh as his legs buckled.




GAIL GAYMER MARTIN


loves life. She cherishes her husband, family, singing, traveling and her Lord. With all those blessings, God gave her one more gift—her dream of writing novels. Gail is multipublished in nonfiction and fiction, with eighteen novels and seven novellas. Her novels have been finalists for numerous awards and have won the Holt Medallion (2001 and 2003), The Texas Winter Rose (2003), the American Christian Romance Writers 2002 Book of the Year Award and a nomination by Romantic Times as Best Love Inspired Novel of 2002.

Besides writing, Gail travels across the country guest speaking and presenting writing workshops. She lives in Lathrup Village, Michigan, with Bob—her husband and best friend.

She loves to hear from her readers. Write to her at P.O. Box 760063, Lathrup Village, MI, 48076 and visit her Web site www.gailmartin.com.




Adam’s Promise

Gail Gaymer Martin





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


But the Lord is faithful,

and He will strengthen and protect you

from the evil one.

—2 Thessalonians 3:3




CAST OF CHARACTERS


Dr. Adam Montgomery—After surviving several attempts on his life, the arrogant surgeon has a change in attitude—and in faith.

Katherine Darling—The compassionate nurse offers lots of tender, loving care to Adam as he recuperates.

Liza Montgomery—Adam’s mother can’t resist matchmaking for her eldest son.

Frank Montgomery—The mayor of Colorado Springs is concerned about his injured son as well as the city’s rising crime rate.

Dr. Lionel Valenti—Is Adam’s co-worker suffering from a mere infection…or something more insidious?

Detective Samuel Vance—Can he stay objective while working on his friend’s case?

FAITH ON THE LINE:

Two powerful families wage war on evil…and find love.

ADAM’S PROMISE—

Gail Gaymer Martin (LI #259, July 2004)

FINDING AMY—Carol Steward

(LI #263, August 2004)

GABRIEL’S DISCOVERY—Felicia Mason

(LI #267, September 2004)

REDEEMING TRAVIS—Kate Welsh

(LI #271, October 2004)

PETER’S RETURN—Cynthia Cooke

(LI #275, November 2004)

PROTECTING HOLLY—Lynn Bulock

(LI #279, December 2004)




Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the first story of the series FAITH ON THE LINE. Though Adam’s and Kate’s struggles may be a little different from our own, many of us cling to our flaws and fears and let them control our lives. Kate held on to her past, ashamed of what people might think. Adam used his aloofness and arrogance to shield him from relationships.

But the most important lesson in Adam’s Promise is what God will do for us if we let Him. He will give us strength and protection, and Jesus, the Good Shepherd, will find us when we stray and return us safely to the fold.

If flaws and griefs of the past hold you in bondage, remember that Jesus is the Way and “God works for the good of those who love Him.”

Next month look for Carol Steward’s Finding Amy, in the continuing saga of FAITH ON THE LINE. You’ll spend more time with the Montgomery and Vance families as they fight to rid Colorado Springs of crime.

Thanks for reading Steeple Hill Love Inspired. May God send you His richest blessings.









Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen




Chapter One


“I don’t get it.” Kate Darling pivoted her head toward Dr. Adam Montgomery standing in the clinic’s office doorway.

“Get what?” Adam pulled his shoulder away from the doorjamb, his stethoscope swaying at his neck as he crossed the room.

Kate gestured toward the papers she held, then used them as a fan. “We ordered adequate supplies last month, but we’re running short again. I’ve checked against our computer records, and it doesn’t match. I helped stock the last shipment, and now I’m wondering where my mind is.”

“I’ve wondered that myself,” Adam said, standing above her and watching Kate’s cheeks tint a soft shade of pink.

Her chair grated against the wooden floor as she shifted and rose to face him. “I’m sorry that you find me inadequate, Dr. Montgomery.”

Adam stepped back, surprised at the spunky attitude she’d shown lately. Should he remind her that she was only a nurse? He held back the comment, figuring the hot, humid climate had set them all on edge. “I didn’t question your ability as a nurse, Miss Darling. You’re an exceptional nurse. I question your competence in keeping accurate records of our supplies.”

Her eyes narrowed, and the look she sent him nailed him to the floor. “Perhaps we should hire a local to handle supplies. Is your Spanish prolific enough to give her orders?”

Adam held up his hand to calm the waters. “I’m not arguing with you, Katherine. We’re dealing with drugs here, and we need to be responsible. We can’t lose cartons of morphine and Demerol.”

“I didn’t lose anything. I just can’t find the boxes.” She spun around and headed for the doorway.

He watched her rounded hips sway as she charged across the room. Besides being irked by his comment, he knew she hated him to call her Katherine. Everyone called her Kate, but Adam thought that calling her Katherine kept things more professional.

Before she passed through the doorway, Kate paused, eyeing him over her shoulder. “You know, when I volunteered for Doctors Without Borders, I agreed to leave my cozy apartment and come to this village miles from nowhere, except mangroves and jungle.” She spun around to face him. “But I didn’t agree to be called inadequate.” She pivoted again and hurried out of the room.

“Look, Katherine. Come back…please.”

In a moment, she reappeared in the threshold, her arms folded across her chest.

“I’m not blaming you. It’s a month between shipments, and when we come up short—”

“I know.” Kate stepped into the room and approached him, her arms swinging in a hopeless gesture. “I’m upset, too. I don’t understand what happened.”

A movement at the doorway caught Adam’s attention.

“What happened?” The clinic’s internist stood inside the doorway, eyeing the two of them. “What’s the problem?” Perspiration beaded Lionel Valenti’s face, and he pulled out a handkerchief to blot the moisture.

“Our supplies,” Kate said, her tone as defeated as she looked.

Valenti’s gaze shifted from Kate to Adam as if not sure who had the answer. “What about them?”

“We’re running low on some of the meds,” Adam said, studying his co-worker’s face with concern. The man’s haggard look grew worse everyday, and Adam prayed he hadn’t contracted some type of jungle virus. The Venezuelan climate had been difficult for everyone.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Valenti said. “When I give away meds, I list them on the charts.”

“No one’s accusing anyone,” Adam said. “But according to Katherine, the computer records and what’s on the shelves don’t match.”

Valenti shrugged. “Our new shipment should be here on Thursday. It is the second Thursday of the month, isn’t it? If so, we don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not worried about running out. I’m worried about being accountable,” Adam said.

Kate held up her hand to halt the discussion. “I forgot to tell you. I got a call this morning. The Thursday shipment will arrive on Tuesday, two days early.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask me why.”

Valenti eyed his watch. “Tuesday. July sixth.” He swung his arms out at his sides and let them drop. “Then there’s no problem. In four days we’ll have a restocked dispensary.”

“But that still doesn’t answer my question,” Kate said as she marched toward the doorway and vanished into the hallway.

“What’s eating her?” Valenti asked.

Adam shrugged. “Prima donna. She doesn’t take criticism well.” He swung his frame into the chair Kate had vacated and eyed the computer screen. “She’ll get over it.”

Valenti leaned over with him and studied the monitor. When he drew back, he swayed and grabbed the chair back to steady himself.

Adam looked into his colleague’s face. “I’m concerned about you, Lionel. You don’t look well. You’re flushed and look tired. Have you checked your temperature?”

“It’s nothing,” Valenti said, waving Adam’s words away. “It’s the climate. I hate humidity. And I’ve got a sinus infection.”

“You sure? If you need a day off, we’ll cover for you.”

“No need. I’m fine.” Valenti dug his hands into his lab coat pockets. “We’re all looking bad. It’s this late shift.”

“Someone has to do it,” Adam said.

Valenti shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. There’s not much to do here anyway except slap at mosquitos and listen to those incessant insects.”

“This isn’t Colorado Springs.” Adam chuckled. “I have to keep reminding myself this is Santa Maria de Flores. No luxuries here.” He swiveled the chair from side to side, thinking of the comfortable town house and silver sports car waiting for his return. “I soothe myself with the thought that people wouldn’t have medical treatment if we weren’t here.”

“You sound like a true humanitarian, Adam.”

Valenti’s comment had a sarcastic ring to it, but Adam didn’t challenge the man. He’d been tense lately. Like Valenti had said, so had everyone.



Prima donna. Kate stormed away from the doorway with Adam’s words ringing in her ears. If she were going to tag someone with that label, his name wouldn’t be Kate. Daily she struggled to put a Christian spin on Adam’s arrogance. He irked her to the core with his Katherine this and Katherine that. Who did he think he was?

Kate’s footsteps whispered along the hallway as her thoughts swung from her frustration with Adam to her admiration. The man could be self-centered one minute and filled with compassion the next…when it involved the patients. Beneath her irritation, she admired the man. He’d come from a prestigious family in Colorado Springs. His father was the mayor, and yet, here he was in Venezuela providing health care to the poor in a rustic community so many miles from the comforts of home.

Kate reached the end of the long hallway, turned right for a short distance and entered the dispensary on the left. She scanned the shelves again, concerned. Had she mislabeled the inventory when it arrived? She pulled the ladder to the end of the row and checked the boxes lining the wall.

Perspiration beaded her skin, and with her exertion, moisture collected along her hairline and rolled down her face, stinging her eyes. She blinked and climbed down from the ladder.

Stepping back, she tripped over a pile of empty cartons and gave them a swift kick. A box cart-wheeled through the air and landed near the doorway.

“Take that, Adam Montgomery,” she said, then chuckled at her childishness.

What made her most angry was her attraction to the man. Since they’d arrived, she’d watched him work and had observed his skill as a plastic surgeon. He transformed deformed children into beautiful youngsters—healthy and unscarred by their tragic births or their horrible mishaps. And, though Adam strutted his stuff in the office, she witnessed a humility when it came to working with the families. His kindness touched her heart. Somewhere beneath that arrogance was a true Christian man.

Longing for a breath of air, Kate turned off the dispensary light, locked the door and walked a step farther to the outside delivery door. Once a month a truck pulled up behind the clinic to bring lifesaving drugs and supplies to the volunteer group of doctors, nurses and personnel who worked there.

Darkness enshrouded her as she stepped outside. No convenient streetlight glowed to dispel the gloom. Only the moon’s faint glint flickered from beyond the tree leaves. She stood beside the door, drawing in the humid air. An occasional whiff of breeze rustled the grasses around the stucco building, her home away from home.

Home. She didn’t allow herself to think about home. She loved her small apartment in Colorado Springs. She’d made something of herself despite her difficult past, a past she pushed out of her mind as soon as it entered.

Kate peered into the night until her eyesight adjusted to the darkness. In the moonlight, she could see the silhouette of the wild chinaberry and trumpet trees whose dried rose and white flowers still lay crumpled beneath their branches. Despite the remoteness, Kate felt safe surrounded by jungles, lagoons and mangrove swamps.

Feeling comforted by the night, Kate drew in a calming breath and opened the door, returning to her quandary. She passed the dispensary door and treaded the hallway toward the front office. When she turned the corner, she spotted the local woman who cleaned and did odd jobs at the clinic. Kate hurried forward. “Hola, Carmen,” Kate called.

Carmen stepped backward from an examining room and smiled, her white teeth contrasting her tanned skin. “¿Sí?”

Kate slowed her walk and pantomimed as she spoke. “Did you store medicine somewhere besides the dispensary…la farmacia?”

“¿Mi? ¿Medicina?”

“Sí. Did you?”

Carmen’s eyes widened. “No, señorita. No sé nada.”

I know nothing. Kate peered at the woman, sensing perhaps she did know something.

The young woman’s eyes shifted back and forth, and she clutched her hands to her chest.

They had always trusted Carmen. She’d worked for the clinic the past two months, but… Kate cringed at her suspicion. She had no reason or right to accuse this woman without any more proof than a faint inkling. Kate realized she was looking for a scapegoat for her own mistake. Keeping track of the inventory was her responsibility.

“Está bien,” Kate said, letting Carmen know everything was fine. She waved her hand in the air as if erasing her earlier question.

A look of relief covered Carmen’s concerned face. “Sí. Gracias.”

Kate forced a halfhearted smile, then continued toward the office. Surprised that she’d let her thoughts wander in such a horrible direction, Kate asked the Lord for forgiveness. Why would Carmen steal the drugs? Kate needed to check the computer again. Perhaps she overlooked something.

But she didn’t think so.



Four days later, Adam grasped a moment’s reprieve and looked out the small window of his office, watching the sun set behind the wild chinaberry tree. A coconut palm stood tall, unbending in the windless sky. Heat permeated the room, and a pesky jejen—a small voracious fly—circled past, hoping to sink its stinger into his body, Adam figured. He swatted the insect away, then left the office and headed down the hall.

He stopped at an examining room door and checked the clipboard, then walked inside to greet the mother cradling her infant who had received plastic surgery on a cleft palate three weeks earlier.

“Hola,” Adam said.

The mother murmured a greeting, not lifting her gaze from her child. Anxiety weighted the woman’s expression, and Adam tried to calm her with his limited Spanish.

With the mother standing beside him, he removed the sutures and motioned to the scar. “Luce bien,” he said, hoping she agreed that it looked flawless.

She beamed.

As she watched, he demonstrated how to massage the scar in a circular motion, encouraging her to try her hand at the needed therapy. When she finished, he disinfected the site.

“Señora Fernandez, mírame, por favor.” He gained her attention and pointed to the dressing, demonstrating how she should change the sterile strips.

The woman nodded, seeming to understand.

Adam lifted the infant and cushioned him in his arm, grateful for the skill God had given him to make a child’s life better. Too many children were born with deformities in this land of poverty. Sometimes he wondered how a loving God could allow this to happen, but he’d been raised to trust the Lord and know that all things had a reason.

He turned his thoughts back to the infant and headed to the storage cabinet to locate a supply of plastic strips to give the mother. He knew she would have little money to buy her own.

The cabinet looked almost bare. Why didn’t someone see that supplies were in each room?

A rap on the door jarred the thought from his mind. Adam turned, and his pulse skipped. Katherine. Could she read his mind? She stood in the doorway with a pile of sterile strips and bandage supplies clutched in both hands and piled against her chest.

“Sorry to disturb you.” A curious look washed over her face as her gaze shifted from him to the baby he held cradled in his arm.

“The supplies just arrived, and I know this room is short,” she said. “I imagine you want some of these for Señora Fernandez.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, puzzled by the coincidence. He returned the infant to his mother while Katherine stocked the cabinet with supplies. Before she left, Katherine handed him several sterile strips.

He slid the bandages into a plastic bag and handed them to Señora Fernandez. Gratefulness filled the woman’s face, and her response renewed his sense of purpose.

With the mother content and smiling, Adam guided her to the exit, more for his own need for fresh air than for Señora Fernandez. Adam stood a moment in the dusky light, watching her sandals kick up dust along the side of the road.

Adam rubbed his neck, feeling the strain of what would be a long night’s work. He agreed with Valenti. The late shift was difficult.

As he turned, a sting stabbed his arm and looked down in time to see a jejen. He slapped at the fly, but it had already vanished. As he headed inside, Adam’s arm stung with a fiery itch, and he rubbed the irritated spot.

When he reached the nurses’ station, Kate beckoned to him. She peered at his scratching and grinned. “Got a bite?”

He nodded.

“Vitamin B and baby oil work wonders.”

“I know,” he said, wanting to remind her he was the physician.

She motioned toward the computer screen. “The supplies are accounted for and stocked. I’ve checked everything twice.”

“Learned your lesson?”

She sent him a fiery look. “You can check it yourself if you’d like.” She swung the monitor toward him and rose from the chair.

“I’m joking, Katherine.”

Her eyebrows raised as her frown melted. “Well, I just thought…”

He harnessed a chuckle, seeing the look on her face. No one could get as addled as Katherine…at least, when he talked to her. She didn’t like him, he figured.

“Do I have another patient?” he asked, needing to get on with his work and not worry about Katherine’s fluster.

Kate nodded. “Knife wound. Room two.”

Knife wound. He had seen too much of that. Harvesting accidents, street fights and drug-or alcohol-induced arguments. Adam had already seen cuts and bruises from their Independence Day celebration the day before, the fifth of July.

Adam strode into the hallway and headed toward the examining room. Before he reached the doorway, he felt a hand on his arm that spun him around.

“Look, Montgomery, where do you get off advising my patient to do something I said wasn’t necessary?”

Adam felt his jaw drop. “What are you talking about, Dan?” He gazed into Dr. Eckerd’s angry eyes.

“I’m talking about Liana Ramirez.”

“The child? I don’t—”

Eckerd gripped Adam’s jacket and crushed the cloth. “Do you remember telling Señora Ramirez that her daughter needed plastic surgery for the birth-mark?”

Adam jerked his arm away from the doctor. He faintly remembered one day he’d seen the family in question, but they often shared patients. No one had an exclusive patient list at the clinic. “I recall having the mother ask my advice about the mark. I said that you were correct. Some nevi fade with time, but the girl’s is raised and deep purple. It’s the type that is often permanent.”

“And one that would benefit from plastic surgery.”

“Yes, but—”

“This is another example of your cocky attitude and self-importance. You could have discussed it with me first. I think you’re wrong. You’re costing the clinic money it can’t afford and endangering a child’s health with your arrogance.”

“Dan, my suggestion wasn’t arrogance. I based it on my knowledge as a plastic surgeon.”

“Next time think about someone else’s reputation before you mouth off with your advice.”

Adam watched the doctor charge away, and he stood with his mouth hanging open. What was going on? The climate? The late shift? A full moon? He shook his head and checked the clipboard hanging beside the examining room. Adam recognized the name. He’d seen Felipe Garcia more than once.

“Señor Garcia,” Adam said, entering the examining room.

The man gave him a sheepish grin. “Toma mucho.” He tipped an imaginary bottle and pantomimed taking a drink.

Adam silently agreed he’d had too much alcohol and probably too many drugs. Adam’s chest tightened, thinking of the lives destroyed by substance abuse.

In minutes, he’d cleaned and sutured the arm wound. Adam knew the man would have pain and he looked through the cabinet and found the last few tablets of Darvocet. They would do him for now. “Regrese en de dos días.” He raised two fingers in the air, then pointed downward, indicating he wanted him to come back in two days.

Felipe nodded and eased down from the table. “Dos días. Gracias.” He lifted his hand in farewell, then vanished through the door, a white bandage wrapped around his arm.

“¡Adiós!” Adam called, his thoughts tangled in the plight of the locals with their poverty and poor living conditions. His heels thudded as he crossed the tile floor and slammed the cabinet door. He needed to tell Katherine to get someone to restock all the cabinets in the examining rooms.

Adam paused, hearing his attitude. The lecture he’d heard before he came to Doctors Without Borders rose in his mind. Staff needed the ability to work and live as a team, to manage stress, to be tolerant and flexible. His shoulders drooped with the thought. Perhaps he lacked that attribute. Flexibility was for the nurses and technologists, not surgeons. But here, he had to adjust.

Instead of heading back toward the nurses’ station, Adam headed for the dispensary to carry back a few supplies for the cabinet. He also had an ulterior motive. He wanted to be certain the Demerol and morphine he’d ordered had arrived, although Katherine would be irked if she knew he had checked on her.

He followed the lengthy hall to the end and turned the corner, digging into his pocket for the dispensary key, but as he neared the doorway, he saw the door was ajar.

Who would leave the room unlocked? He picked up his pace and pushed open the door.

His heart stopped. Blood froze in his veins.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.

A shot tore through him, smarting worse than a giant jejen fly.

He staggered backward. Heat and pain seared his flesh as his legs buckled.

Blackness.




Chapter Two


Pow!

Kate’s heart tumbled when she heard the shot.

Pow!

Another.

Her pulse pounded as she rose on trembling legs and tore into the hallway. She hesitated, panic charging through her body. Which way? The shot had come from the left, she thought.

She rushed along the corridor, fear pumping through her limbs while glancing through doorways.

Nothing. The office was empty.

She charged forward. Turning the corner, her legs buckled, and she grabbed the wall for support. Her head spun, her ears hummed with her rising pulse.

The dispensary door gaped, and her hands shuddered as she grabbed the jamb and pulled herself around the door frame.

“Adam!”

His body lay crumpled on the floor. Blood seeped onto the tile from his head.

“Help! ¡Socorro!” She dropped to Adam’s side, feeling for a pulse. It was faint and unsteady. She pushed back his blood-soaked hair and saw a wound. Fear gripped her. Gunshot to the head? She looked again and saw no entry wound.

Kate’s focus flew downward where the front of Adam’s green lab coat had begun to turn a reddish brown. Blood. He’d been shot in the chest.

“¡Dios mio! No.” Carmen’s high-pitched wail echoed in the doorway.

Kate pivoted toward the voice.

Carmen stared at Adam’s body, wide-eyed, while her fingers outlined the sign of the cross on her chest. “¿Quién hizo esto?”

“I don’t know who did this,” Kate answered. She waved her hand toward the hallway. “Find Dr. Reese.”

Carmen stood as if not hearing, her hands clasped near her throat as if in prayer.

“Hurry! ¡Vaya!”

“Sí,” Carmen cried as she fled from the room.

“Adam,” Kate intoned, hoping to rouse him. The blood oozed a darker, wider circle on his surgical jacket as Kate’s fear deepened. “Adam, listen to me. Hang on.”

Kate froze as another shot rang out in the distance. Her mind and body caught on a whirlwind of frenzy and fear. Who? What? Why? Questions ricocheted through her thoughts like buckshot. Dr. Reese? Dr. Valenti? Dr. Eckerd? Who was the victim this time?

Kate pulled open the lab coat, then unbuttoned his shirt and gaped at the entry wound—the torn, burned flesh brought bile to her throat. She rose and grasped sterile pads from the shelves.

Near the doorway, she saw a carton and forced it beneath Adam’s legs to elevate them. Then she pulled a blanket from a nearby shelf and covered him to ward off shock.

Kneeling, she pressed the sanitary packing against the pulsing wound. She listened to his ragged breathing as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. The shallow, raspy sound punctuated her panic.

Her fingers shifted again to his pulse, feeling the soft, erratic beat. Lord, keep him safe. Kate uttered the words over and over like a litany. With her other hand, Kate ran her finger along his death-white cheek, feeling the prickle of whiskers and longing to see his eyes open. Fearful, she lifted his lid and viewed only white sclera. The bright blue irises that often sent her heart spinning hid behind the socket where a sliver of color remained.

Tears pooled along her lashes, and hopelessness crushed her as she waited for Dr. Gordon Reese. Adam needed a surgeon and none were on duty tonight, and she knew Carmen would have to summon him from the nearby living quarters.

“Adam, you’ll be all right. Hang on. Just lie still until we find out if anything’s broken.” She gazed at the handsome man lying inert beside her. He struggled for breath, and his chest shuddered with each attempt.

She checked her watch while her prayerful litany continued until the sound of running footsteps riveted her attention to the doorway.

Gordon Reese dashed into the room, his face drawn and ashen. “What’s happened?” He knelt beside Kate, his trained eye studying the situation. “He needs a chest tube. The bullet punctured a lung.”

Kate rose and waved Carmen from the doorway where she hovered, her hands clutched against her chest. “Get the gurney. Over here.” She pointed to the metal table, in case the woman didn’t understand.

Carmen nodded and eased around their crouched forms to fetch the stretcher stored along the wall.

“I heard another shot,” Kate said. “Have you seen Dr. Eckerd? Dr. Valenti? Anyone?”

“No,” Gordon Reese said, trying to hoist the bulk of Adam’s body upward. “When we get him on the gurney, hang an IV. A thousand cc’s. He’ll need blood.”

As she struggled to lift Adam, Dr. Valenti tore into the room. “What is this? What happened?” Blood rolled from his lip to his chin, and he looked shaken. “I struggled with them outside. Two men. One escaped, but I wrestled a gun from the other one. I shot him. I think he’s dead.”

“Dead?” Kate rose and beckoned Dr. Valenti to take her place. “Carmen.” She motioned to the woman gawking from the hallway. “Call the police.”

Carmen hurried away, and Kate prepared the IV while the doctors lifted Adam to the stretcher.

“We’ll take care of this. Just hang the bag and then call Vance Memorial,” Dr. Reese ordered. “We need to know if they want to airlift Adam back to Colorado Springs or somewhere else.”

She nodded, spinning on her heel, and headed to the telephone. Her fingers trembled as she punched in the numbers. The time dragged as she waited for a connection to the United States, then to speak with the hospital director at Vance Memorial. She grappled to concentrate on her conversation as she described the situation. Her thoughts were on Adam and the two doctors working to save his life.

The director’s order halted her thoughts when she heard his decree. “I want the team back. I want you all to come home. We’ll send our staff back only after we have some answers.”

“You want the team back? But what about—?”

“The other doctors can stay and run the facility. I want the Vance Memorial team here.”

“Sir, I need to tell you that Dr. Valenti had a run-in with one of the burglars and shot him.”

“He what? Never mind. They’ll need him for questioning. Valenti can stay, but I want the rest of you to return. I’ll order Medevac to airlift Adam home. You and Dr. Reese fly with him if you can.”

“All right, sir,” Kate said, shocked at the director’s orders. “They’re operating now. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Do that…and be careful. All of you.”

She didn’t have enough strength to agree or fight for the clinic’s needs. When she hung up, she hurried to the operating room with his words ringing in her head.

Peeking through the small window, Kate watched Dr. Reese and Dr. Valenti hover over Adam. Fear had rankled her reasoning skills. Flying home meant she had things to do and fast.

Before she could act, Carmen appeared at her side with three men, two dressed in navy-blue short-sleeved shirts with patches on the sleeve, officers from the Santa Maria de Flores police department, and the third in plainclothes. Detective or vice squad, Kate figured.

In her minimal Spanish she explained what she knew, using Carmen as an interpreter when necessary. Their questions backlashed through her head—had she heard sounds or smelled strange odors, were doors opened or closed, were there witnesses to the shooting and who had been in the dispensary since the crime?

When she explained about Adam’s surgery, the detective’s glower let her know they’d contaminated the crime scene. How could she explain they couldn’t stand back and let Adam die? She only shook her head and showed them the surgery taking place inside the operating room. The detective looked through the window, gave instructions to the officers, then walked away.

The younger man quizzed her again, taking down names and facts that Kate could remember while the other officer listened.

“Come,” she said, guiding the young men to the dispensary. She led them along the corridor, and as they reached the doorway, the detective stepped in from the delivery entry and followed them.

She motioned the men inside, her stomach churning at the pool of blood on the floor. Not just blood, but Adam’s blood. She indicated where she’d found him, his position on the floor. From that location, one officer measured distances and angles, speculating from the drugs found on the floor where the looters had stood.

The other officer donned plastic gloves and moved about so as not to disturb evidence any more than the medical staff had destroyed earlier. While Kate watched from the hallway, the younger man pried what appeared to be two bullets from the wall beside the doorway and dropped them into plastic bags.

The detective turned his attention to a blood stain on the corner of a storage cabinet. Kate suspected it was where Adam had struck his head in the fall, the reason for the gaping wound above his temple.

They worked with speed, measuring and taking notes. When they finished, one officer closed the door and cordoned off the room.

Kate gaped at the closed door blocking their medical supplies. Somewhere in her addled mind, she thought of the people who depended on the clinic for their health-care needs. Sadness turned to anger and the emotions mingled with the fear and bewilderment that already overwhelmed her.

Outside the dispensary, the detective pointed to the delivery door. “Do you keep this locked?”

Carmen, lingering on the sidelines, translated. “Yes, always.”

He opened the door and Kate followed. Outside she could see the body on the ground while officers huddled around. The detective shooed her away, but she peeked at the doorjamb anyway, wondering if it had been pried open. She saw nothing—no marks or dents. She looked closer, but the irate man ordered her away for a second time.

Kate moved inside and hurried toward the operating room. She had nothing to do now but follow orders and prepare to leave. Her breath came in gasps as she neared the surgeon. Would Adam make it back to Colorado Springs alive?

She couldn’t bear to think otherwise.



Kate’s body trembled with exhaustion as she willed her eyes to stay focused. She looked around the surgical waiting room at Vance Memorial Hospital, with its drab yellow walls and unimpressive framed prints. She shifted on the plastic upholstery and eyed her rumpled blouse and pants she’d worn for the past twenty hours.

The chaos of those past hours filled her mind. The surgery at the clinic, the fear, the questioning, the packing, the waiting.

She had flown back in the Medevac with Adam clinging to life with his falling blood pressure and faltering pulse. The problem had been what she feared—internal bleeding. Now she waited with Adam’s parents for his second surgery.

Kate eyed her watch. Nearly two hours. She’d told his folks everything she knew about the horrible incident. The details lay muddled in her overtaxed mind, and she was glad they’d accepted her patchy description.

“Rats.” Adam’s father slammed his fist on the table beside his chair and sent the lamp teetering before it settled in place. “What are they doing?”

“Frank,” Liza Montgomery said to her husband, her voice calm and hushed, “be patient.”

“Patient! I’ve been more than patient. I don’t understand what’s keeping them.” He rose, unfolding his tall, stocky frame, and paced in front of them.

Kate scrutinized the Montgomerys and wondered if she should infringe on their privacy. Her nurse’s persona took over, and she leaned forward. “Adam has internal bleeding, Mr. Montgomery. That may take time to repair…depending on where they find the problem and how extensive the damage is.”

She glanced at her watch again, realizing only a minute had passed since she’d last looked. “The doctor should be in soon, I’m sure.”

Frank ran his thick hand through his bushy white hair and gazed at her with vivid blue eyes canopied by shaggy white brows.

His eyes unnerved her; they were the same shade of blue as Adam’s.

He gave her a subdued nod, then settled back into the chair and folded his hands in front of him while he stared at the floor.

Kate wondered if he were praying. Though he was arrogant as a peacock, Adam, she knew, was a Christian. Kate guessed his father was, too.

“So tell us about yourself, Katherine,” Liza said, gazing at her with amazing green eyes and a kindly smile.

Kate froze at the suggestion. Talking about herself fell somewhere in her list of favorite activities between cleaning the toilet and scrubbing out the trash cans.

“Not much to tell,” she said, hoping to dissuade the woman without being rude.

“Tell us about your work at Doctors Without Borders. Adam tells us so little.”

Kate relaxed. She could talk about the clinic. “It’s challenging. We deal with poverty, primitive conditions and a language barrier. We all speak a little Spanish—very little in some cases.” She gave them a halfhearted grin, the first she’d displayed in many hours. “But despite the problems, we feel blessed to provide care to people who would have none if we weren’t there.”

Liza shifted her rounded frame to face Kate more directly while she pushed back a graying blond curl from her rosy cheek. “I’m sure it’s rewarding, and you’re serving people just as our dear Lord has told us to do.”

“Yes. We’re making a difference,” Kate agreed, filling the time by sharing stories of their living facilities, the patients they’d treated, the long hours they worked. “But it’s beautiful, too,” Kate said. “In spring the trumpet trees blossom with flowers. Mauve, rose, white. So lovely. The coconut palms get heavy with fruit. And the lagoon with the thick mangrove islands. And birds of every color. It glorifies the Lord’s handiwork.”

Liza’s smile brightened. “You’re a Christian.”

“Yes. My mother depended on the Lord to get us through…” Kate let the words slide. “Get us through” was more than Kate meant to share about the past. Without prayer and God’s presence, her childhood would have been devastating.

“Does your mother live nearby?”

Kate tried to cover her sadness. “No, she died of cancer when I was eighteen.”

Liza’s face skewed with sympathy. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.”

“That was fifteen years ago. I’ve learned to accept it. I like to think God has a purpose for everything.” Her words sounded correct, but so often Kate wished her mother had lived so today she could provide her mother with the home and security she’d never had.

“You’re so right. And she must have been a wonderful mother to give you such a good upbringing…and look at you. You’re a nurse. I’m sure she would be proud.”

Kate gave her a nod. “Yes, she would have been. I wish she knew.”

“Perhaps she does, dear. We just never know.”

Frank’s patience had reached its limit. He bounded from the chair and strutted across the room to the volunteer’s desk. Kate watched him pointing to his watch and to the telephone. She was sure the poor woman felt intimidated. He was a powerful, impressive man, and being the mayor of Colorado Springs, he was a man who expected action. Today he wasn’t getting it.

The attendant held firm, and soon Adam’s father turned away, grabbed a cup of coffee from the dispenser and carried it back to the chair. “Anyone want any of this stuff? It’s so strong, it could stand alone without a cup.”

Kate could attest to that. The acrid smell drifted toward her and curdled her stomach. She shook her head.

Liza sent him a “No, thank you,” then leaned closer to Kate. “Frank has no patience. I wish he could learn that not everyone jumps at his bidding.”

Kate only smiled.

“I volunteer here, and I always feel badly for folks who have to wait so long for their loved ones,” Liza said.

“You’re a volunteer at Vance Memorial?”

“Yes. I’m usually at the front information desk, but I fill in where needed. Like I said, God wants us to do for others. Since I’m not a nurse or a doctor like Adam, I help in this way.”

“What a lovely thing to do,” Kate said. She knew many rich women would spend their time at a country club or garden club meeting…all kinds of social soirées, but here was a woman who did something for others.

“I sit on the board of the Galilee Women’s Shelter, too. We do fund-raisers for the facility, help out however we can.”

Kate’s throat tightened, and she swallowed the emotion that strangled her. “Such a worthy cause. That must be very fulfilling.”

“Indeed. It’s sad to learn how many women—sometimes even children—pass through its doors.”

“I can imagine,” Kate said, holding back the feelings that continued to swell inside her. “I’m familiar with that center and its work. I’ve always admired the people who make it an option for women.”

Liza’s gaze searched hers, as if trying to read into her comment, sending a queasy feeling to Kate’s stomach.

“Our big fund-raiser is coming up in a few months,” Liza said.

Kate breathed a relieved sigh. She was grateful Liza hadn’t probed about her personal life.

“Fund-raisers require much work. We always need volunteers, and it takes many hours to make it happen.”

“I can imagine,” Kate said, letting her ramble on while Kate nodded and smiled, but her mind was on Adam. She knew his parents were worried, too. While his father ranted and raved, Adam’s mother seemed to use chatter to ease her stress.

A surgeon finally came through the doorway, paused a moment, then headed in their direction. “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?”

Frank and Liza rose like soldiers snapping to attention when brass appeared. “How is he?” they asked in unison.

The surgeon’s tired eyes studied their faces as if holding back something.

No. Not Adam. Kate’s heart jolted as anxiety reared like an angry stallion. Kate held her breath.




Chapter Three


Kate’s limbs quaked waiting for the surgeon to break the silence. She was concerned that Gordon Reese hadn’t come to speak with the Montgomerys. He’d performed the surgery.

“Your son is in recovery, then he’ll be moved to ICU. The bullet entered below the fifth intercostal space, traversed his diaphragm and punctured his stomach. We were able to stop the bleeding and make the repair.”

“Why didn’t they know that in Venezuela?” Frank said, his voice rising in volume.

“If he’d been conscious, Dr. Reese would have realized earlier, but the concussion masked the additional problem. If your son had been alert, he would have experienced abdominal pain. Remember, he’d already suffered a collapsed lung. Dr. Reese inserted a chest tube that saved his life.”

Liza grasped Frank’s arm, hearing the surgeon’s words. For Kate, the reminder was more than she wanted.

“Let’s be grateful the team spotted the next problem early,” the doctor said. “They notified the hospital and we were ready when they arrived.”

Liza looked at the surgeon with pleading eyes. “Will he…will my son…?” Her voice quivered and she clutched her hands against her chest as if in prayer.

“He’s critical…but that’s to be expected. We’ll know for sure in a couple of days, but for now, I’d say he’s doing better than we could hope for. He was in good health before the accident, and I’m confident he’ll pull through this.”

Accident? Kate wanted to explain it wasn’t an accident but a horrible crime. She clamped her lips and swallowed the words. Explaining wasn’t her place. She was Adam’s co-worker. Nothing more.

“I thought Dr. Reese performed the surgery,” Kate said.

“We operated together. Gordon is exhausted. That’s why I came to talk with you.”

“I was on the plane with him. I know he’s worn-out.”

Kate was tired, too. Her thoughts soared back to the dispensary in Venezuela. She could see the blood seeping from Adam’s chest. She recalled the fear and anguish she felt seeing the handsome man slumped on the floor, seemingly lifeless. She blocked the ghastly vision.

“Is he conscious now? When can we see him?” Frank asked.

“They’ll let you know when you can go in,” the surgeon said, looking at Frank, then Liza. “Visiting will be limited until he’s in a regular room.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Liza said. Frank grasped his hand with a firm shake.

The surgeon stepped away. The Montgomerys seemed to relax and settled into their seats.

Kate’s heart ached but she managed to contain her concern. Adam hadn’t regained consciousness throughout the ordeal, and Kate knew what that meant. She leaned back, hoping to conceal her worry.

“What in the good earth is an intercoastal space?” Frank asked, looking at Kate. “It’s all a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.”

“Intercostal space,” Kate corrected. “It’s the space between the fifth and sixth rib. The bullet went through the chest and exited Adam’s back. The damage could have been much worse. We should be very grateful.” She realized too late she’d used the word we.

“Yes, indeed,” Liza said, her gaze searching Kate’s face as if mulling over what she’d said. She shifted her gaze toward her husband. “We should be on our knees thanking God and not complaining, Frank.”

Before any more was said, the ICU nurse arrived and beckoned his parents to follow.

Kate relaxed and watched them vanish through the doorway. She longed to be with them to see for herself that Adam was all right. She knew the physical signs and understood the monitor readings.

Her mind relived the fear she’d felt that day—the gunshots, her confusion, the dizzy fear that weakened her limbs, the panic she’d felt the moment she saw Adam bleeding on the floor. At that moment, she hadn’t had time to think about the why and who. She’d only had time to put pressure on the wound and do what she could to avoid shock from setting in.

But later, on the plane, she’d run the day over in her mind. Who would do this? Someone who’d been there, someone who knew where supplies were stored? Carmen? Señor Garcia? He’d been Adam’s last appointment, and he had a drug problem as well as alcohol. Everyone knew that. Her thoughts had struck a dead end, just as her life had seemed to now.

Instead of brooding, she rose and stretched her arms, trying to relieve the tension that knotted down her spine. She walked to the window and looked outside. The late-afternoon sun pressed against the pane, sending its heat through the glass. Kate looked beyond the familiar parking lot to the highway.

The shock of the past few days washed over her like icy water. Her whole life had changed in a few dreadful moments in Venezuela. She’d set her course and prepared for the dramatic move to Doctors Without Borders, subleased her apartment and sold her clunker in hopes of buying a new car when she returned from her year’s stint there.

So here she was now. No place to live. No car. No plans until she talked with the nursing director to see what they could do for her. Still, at the moment, all she wanted to do was see Adam, then sleep. She’d been without sleep for nearly two days. Her body trembled with fatigue and stress.

“Katherine.”

Kate lifted her head and saw Mrs. Montgomery approaching her.

“I’m sure you’d like to go in for a few minutes. Please go ahead. Frank is down getting us all some fresh coffee.”

Kate stood as Liza reached her. The woman grasped her fingers, her eyes dewy with tears.

“He looks a bit better,” she said. “He has a little color in his cheeks. He…” Her voice faded and she covered her face with her hands.

Kate longed to wrap her arms around the gentle woman, to give her comfort, something that would ease her anxiety. But something held her back. “He’ll be fine, Mrs. Montgomery. I’ve prayed incessantly since this happened.”

Liza drew a shuddered breath and lifted her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry for crying. Adam’s our oldest. I can’t imagine—”

“It’s natural to cry and worry. I’ve done the same, and he’s just my colleague. My friend.” He was her friend in a strange sense. Despite his frequent uppity attitude, they’d lived in the same compound for the past months, shared the same food, laughed at the same jokes, struggled with the same crises. If that wasn’t friendship, she didn’t know what was. And if Kate were truthful, her heart had taken a strange turn when it came to Adam—a turn she hated to admit.

“You go ahead, dear,” Liza said, wiping her eyes with a pink lace-edged handkerchief. “I’ll be fine. Frank will be here in a moment.”

Kate gave the woman’s arm a squeeze, her own heart skipping with anticipation, and then she headed through the doorway and down the short corridor.

She pushed the large button on the wall, and the ICU door swished open. She moved past the monitors flashing the vital signs and data and entered the room, peering into cubicles until she saw him.

Kate froze, witnessing the strong, opinionated man, now unconscious. She preferred his attitude rather than seeing him like this. His face looked pale and unexpressive. Where was the color Liza had mentioned?

“Adam.” She neared his bed and stood beside his head, looking for a flicker of eyelashes or some sign of awareness.

She saw none.

“I miss your know-it-all comments, Adam. You’re not going to let a little bullet in the chest keep you down, are you?”

Kate moved her fingers forward and brushed one against his cheek. She’d never touched Adam so intimately until the day he had lain sprawled on the dispensary floor when she felt the prickle of whiskers on his cheek, whiskers now more pronounced.

The image sent a chill through her, and her heart pounded with angry thumps before settling down to a steady rhythm.

“Do you hear me, Adam? Come on. Wake up and give me some of your lip.” Lip. She eyed his well-formed mouth, recalling an occasional smile that lit his face…usually when he riled her. He seemed to enjoy setting her on edge.

Her gaze slid down the sheet, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest aided by a flow of oxygen. His hands lay limp at his sides, and she couldn’t resist raising one and giving it a squeeze, but she resisted the desire to draw it to her lips and kiss his talented fingers—fingers that held surgical instruments and changed lives.

As she returned his hand to his side, Kate leaned closer to his ear. “Adam. Where’s your spirit? Where’s your irritating arrogance? Wake up and let me see those lovely blue eyes.”

She pulled back, almost fearing he would open them, having heard her confession.

He didn’t.

Hearing the steady sizzle of oxygen and the beeps from the equipment behind her, Kate stood a moment, gazing at the powerful man now in God’s hands.

“Father, be with him,” she whispered. “Give him strength and healing so he can return to his lifesaving work…and, Lord, give me direction. I’m lost right now. I don’t know what will happen or where I’ll go. Give me courage. In Jesus’ precious name. Amen.”

Her gaze swept over Adam’s silent form, then feeling helpless, she turned and left the room. She pushed the button and walked into the corridor on wobbly legs.

From the waiting room doorway, she could see two others had joined the Montgomerys—a man about Adam’s height with dark blond hair and a woman with blond hair cut in a short, spunky style. From a distance, she could have been a young boy dressed in jeans and a knit shirt, but her shapely figure gave her away.

Kate hesitated joining them and lingered at the threshold until Liza’s voice greeted her.

“Katherine, come meet our children, and—” she lifted a cardboard cup in the air “—have your coffee while it’s hot.”

With her urging, Kate came forward, wondering what kind of impression she would make on these two people. She knew she looked awful with no sleep and no shower.

“Katherine Darling, this is our son, Jake, Adam’s younger brother, and our daughter, Colleen. She’s the baby of the family.” She smiled at Kate, then shifted her gaze to her children.

“Call me Kate,” she said, extending her hand.

“Katherine’s with Doctors Without Borders,” Liza said. “She’s the one who found Adam after he’d been shot.”

“So you’re the one,” Jake said, taking her hand in his. “Thank you.”

Kate saw the same blue eyes again. Looking at Colleen, she realized all of the children had their father’s eyes. “You’re welcome, but please don’t thank me. It’s all a blur. The experience unraveled me.”

“I’ve never known Adam to ever be ill,” Colleen said. “Growing up with two older brothers, I had to learn to fend for myself. I can’t picture Adam like this. Not at all.” She ran slender fingers through her thatch of hair.

Kate could envision Colleen joining in her brother’s fray. She looked as if the rough-and-tumble had rubbed off on her. Not that she wasn’t attractive, but she had a spirited way about her.

“I suppose we should get it over with,” Colleen said to her brother, giving him a playful punch in the arm. “Standing here is making the waiting worse.”

Jake linked his arm in hers. “Jut that chin out, sis. You can do it, and I’ll remember what you said when he’s back on his feet and you want to throttle him for something.”

Colleen chuckled, they turned away and headed for ICU.

Watching the Montgomery family’s support and concern sent loneliness through Kate’s body. She watched Jake and Colleen pass through the doorway, arm in arm. They had the kind of relationship she’d never had, being an only child.

The kind of close relationship she might never experience in her lifetime.



Bound in blackness, Adam struggled against the weight that anchored him to the shadowy void, a smoky, spiraling existence that held him fast.

Digging his nails into the darkness, he struggled to rise. An ebony cosmos swirled to gray, then purple to red. Orange and scarlet flames licked at his body, searing a hole through his chest. The pain writhed within him, but he dragged himself forward into the inferno for Kate. She’d called to him. He’d heard her voice.

Danger surrounded her as the blaze surged at her feet. His own scorched flesh reeked as he neared her. He called her name, but his parched throat and dried mouth turned his words to dust.

The fire became a whirlwind, like a dervish—yellow, coral and crimson—fading, vanishing into the abyss, taking Kate with it.

His charred body made a final grasp at nothing but darkness.



Kate watched the ICU door swing open as Adam’s brother and sister vanished inside.

Dizziness caught her off guard. She grabbed the arm of a chair to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Liza asked, shifting to Kate’s side. “You’re exhausted, I’m sure.” She patted the seat cushion. “Sit now and drink some of this coffee. Have you eaten?”

Eaten? Kate hadn’t eaten for hours. Food hadn’t crossed her mind.

“I’m just tired.”

“You should go home, dear. You need food and rest. Do you live in town?”

Her question dropped like a weight on Kate’s shoulders. “I did before I went to Venezuela. I sublet my apartment.”

“Sublet your apartment? Oh, dear.” She turned to her husband. “Did you hear that, Frank? The poor girl sublet her apartment.”

Kate tried to smile. “I thought it was a good idea at the time. I’d volunteered for a year, and I was being frugal. I even sold my car. It was a junker, and I figured…” She shrugged. “Now I don’t know what will happen. I’m not sure if I’ll be sent back or…”

Or what? Her future was hanging by a thread.

Kate realized she was foolish to sit there and wonder. She needed to act. “I’ll have to get a room somewhere until I know what’s happening.”

“Nonsense,” Liza said. “We’ll think of something.” She turned to her husband. “Won’t we, Frank?”

Adam’s father straightened. “Certainly. You saved our son’s life.” He glanced at his wife as if to make sure he was heading in the right direction. She gave him a subtle nod and smiled.

“The least we can do,” he continued, “is invite you to stay with us until you make other arrangements. We have plenty of room.”

“Too much room for the two of us,” Liza added. Then she wagged her finger at Kate. “And no disagreement now. You’ll go home with us.”

“Well, I…”

Kate’s voice faded when she saw Dr. Reese appear in the doorway. The Montgomerys rose, and Liza clutched her husband’s arm as if expecting the worst.

Gordon Reese shook his head. “He’s fine, stable, and I don’t expect a change until morning. I’d suggest you go home and get some rest. Sitting here won’t help Adam. If there’s a change, we’ll call you immediately, but I’m certain he’s going to be fine.” He gave Kate a nod.

Liza looked at her husband, her eyes seeming to question if they should listen to the doctor’s suggestion.

“You’ll call us?” Frank asked. “No funny business.”

Gordon Reese chuckled. “No funny business. We’ll call if there’s any change…good or bad.”

“Thank you. We’d appreciate that.”

“I told your son and daughter the same thing. They’re staying for a few minutes longer. They said they’ll see you back at your house.”

Frank extended his hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. Now get some rest. You, too, Kate,” he said, looking at her. “You’re all welcome to come back tomorrow morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Liza repeated. “Yes. That will be fine. Thank you.”

Gordon Reese backed away, and Kate watched him head through the door, feeling better having heard his prognosis.

The Montgomerys gathered up their belongings and ushered Kate out of the waiting room. Discomfort slowed her footsteps, discomfort and exhaustion. She had no business staying with the Montgomerys, but tonight she had no other options, especially when her mind felt knotted in a tight jumble like thread that had tangled and had been rewound on the spool, knots and all.

Outdoors, the early-evening air covered her with dry heat. She slid into the back seat of their sleek, black car and clung to the door handle to stay erect. If she leaned back, she knew she would fall asleep.

The downtown scene flashed past, familiar yet blurred by her weary eyes and her wavering thoughts. They passed the Broadmoor Hotel and sprawling homes that only peeked from behind lush landscaping. With Adam’s father being the mayor, Kate assumed they would live in a nice part of town, but this was more than she’d expected. She’d never seen the Colorado Springs mayor’s residence. She had no idea where it was located.

When the car slowed and turned, Kate willed her eyelids open and focused on the wide drive leading to an expanse of freshly cut lawn. Ahead sat a massive redbrick home with beige trim and brown shutters at the wide French pane windows.

How often had Adam visited this house? she wondered. What she did know was the family who lived here was far out of her league, just as Adam was. She’d admired Adam from afar—his talent, his generosity, his handsome frame, his sparkling blue eyes.

Afar was about as close as she would ever get.




Chapter Four


Standing in the Montgomery living room, Kate marveled at the coziness of the huge house. Someone’s efforts had brightened what might have been a dark, ponderous room by understating the wide woodwork and dark paneled inserts with colorful walls and chintz upholstery. Antiques mingled with traditional furniture were placed in conversational groupings. The room looked genial.

Kate took in the artwork, the abundance of antique dishes adorning the mantle and corner cabinet, and the colorful toss pillows, remembering her meager childhood, her less-than-cozy dwelling.

“Set your luggage in the hall, Katherine. I’ll have Jake carry it up for you when he arrives.”

Kate stepped into the foyer and dropped her luggage beside the stairs. She gazed upward at the rounding staircase that led to rooms she speculated would be as tasteful as the one she’d seen.

“Make yourself at home,” Liza said behind her.

Kate spun around. “The house is lovely. Are the mayors’ families allowed to change the decor? This really looks like you. Such delicate touches.”

Liza chuckled. “The official mayor’s residence is closer to the city offices. When Frank was elected, he chose to stay in our own home, and I was pleased. We raised all three children here. This is where our hearts are.”

Kate’s muddied mind sorted out her words. This was Adam’s childhood home. Her earlier comment brought embarrassment. “I didn’t know. I thought I could see your handiwork. It’s very comfortable.”

“Thank you. I do want our friends to feel welcome here…and please consider yourself a friend, Katherine.”

“Then call me Kate. My friends do.” Except Adam, she mused.

“Kate it is. Now, as I said, you go and make yourself comfortable. I know we’re all hungry, and I’ll just go and see what I can rummage up.”

“Please, let me help,” Kate said.

“Are you sure? I know you’ve been through so much.”

Kate shook her head. “It’ll help me keep the awful memories off my mind.” And keep me awake, she thought.

“Then come along.” Liza motioned for her to follow.

Her gaze lingered on the wide staircase for a moment; she imagined Adam as a child sliding down the banister or taking the steps two at a time the way boys do. She dragged her thoughts to the present and made her way behind Adam’s mother to the kitchen.

Kate gaped as she stood inside the large room with a center island where pots and pans hung, their copper bottoms gleaming just as she’d seen in magazines. She never thought people really used them.

To her surprise, Liza pulled one down and set it on the stove. “Our housekeeper does much of the cooking, but today’s she’s off so I take over. It’s nothing to prepare a meal for only us, but today, my guess is Jake and Colleen will join us.”

“What can I do?” Kate asked.

Liza rubbed her cheek and stared into the refrigerator. “Hmm. Something fast is what we need.”

Kate watched as Adam’s mother pulled out a large ham, a crockery pot full of baked beans and fresh salad greens from the refrigerator. “You’ll find some red skins in the little pantry, there.” She pointed to the door on the left. Kate found the potatoes, and she and Liza worked side by side, preparing the meal.

Soon voices echoed from the hallway, and Colleen made her entrance into the kitchen. She sneaked a sliver of ham from the stack and curled it into her mouth. “Can I help?” she asked between chews.

“You can set the table,” Liza said.

Somewhere in the haze of exhaustion, Kate found herself seated between Liza and Colleen at the dining room table. The fine china and sterling seemed a paradox to the simple home-cooked meal, but Kate accepted the family’s refined ways and placed the linen napkin on her rumpled pants.

Frank stretched his arms toward his wife and son, a seeming family tradition, and Kate grasped the two hands extended to her. They bowed their heads, hands joined, making a circle around the table, while Adam’s father offered the blessing and asked the Lord for Adam’s safekeeping.

Even though the meal consisted of leftovers, the food was delicious, but Kate could only nibble at her meal. Despite being hungry, she felt too tired to swallow. The family conversation rolled as naturally as if she weren’t a stranger. While Adam’s father seemed blustery, she saw a gentleness when it came to his children, like a growling canine who, getting close enough, licks the intruder’s hand.

Kate had little to offer with her mind and body weary and her self-esteem sinking fast as she sat at the gleaming wood table and chairs, cherry or fruit-wood with Queen Anne legs and tapestry seat cushions. The large china cabinet glinted with sparkling cut glass and colorful antique dishes.

Kate listened to the conversation. At first the talk dwelled on the family’s concern for Adam. Colleen and Jake asked questions about Doctors Without Borders and their lives in Venezuela. Kate tried to answer, though her tongue and teeth were no longer in sync.

But soon the conversation drifted to more personal topics. Adam’s home. Adam’s family. Adam’s life. She clung to every thread of his amazing world.

Frank speared a dollop of butter with his knife and spread it across a thick piece of bread. “I talked to your uncle Joe yesterday.” He forked a slab of ham and lay it on top.

“How is he?” Jake asked.

Liza eyed the bread and meat. “Frank, you’re not making a sandwich at dinner, are you?” Her gaze slid to Kate’s while her cheeks flushed. “We have a guest.”

“I certainly am,” he said, taking a chomp out of the concoction. “And Kate can make her own sandwich if she wants.”

Liza shook her head and gave Kate a shrug. Kate grinned and slid a piece of potato into her mouth.

“So what’s up with Uncle Joe?” Jake asked.

“Mad as a hornet.”

“What happened?”

“Barclay again.” Frank dropped his sandwich onto the plate and slapped his hand on the tabletop. “The man’s stealing business right out from under him…and it’s not the first time.”

“You mean Montgomery Construction lost another bid?” Jake said.

Frank nodded. “It’s the fourth, and this time Joe said they gave a low bid. He told me he knew no one could underbid him. The company would have barely made a profit.” He rapped his knuckles on the table beside his plate. “I’d like to get my hands around that crook’s neck.”

“Dad,” Colleen said, “you don’t know he’s a crook. He’s a businessman. A mogul.”

“Mongrel is right,” Frank said.

Colleen didn’t give up. “Dad. Look at those gorgeous hotels he owns all over town. The guy must know what he’s doing. You can’t blame him because he doesn’t give his business to Montgomery Construction.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Colleen.” Her father shook his fork at her. “I co-owned Montgomery Construction once. Remember that. I know about business. That guy’s doing something shady.”

“Frank,” Liza said, “let’s enjoy our dinner.”

“Who won the bid?” Jake asked, ignoring his mother’s plea for a relaxing meal.

“Same company as last time. Elroy Construction.”

Jake shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“Ready for coffee and pie?” Liza rose and gathered the empty plates around her.

Kate covered a grin, watching her hostess’s ploy to distract them from their conversation.

“What kind of pie, Mom?” Colleen asked.

“Aunt Fiona’s apple pie. We picked up two a couple days ago.”

“Aunt Fiona’s?” Jake asked. “My favorite.”

Liza smiled. “How about à la mode? Vanilla ice cream?”

“I’ll take a big piece,” Jake said.

Kate decided to pass on dessert. If she didn’t skip the pie, she’d pass out at the table for sure. Sleep was the only thing that sounded good to her.



Rest didn’t come easy for Kate. Her body jerked and her eyes flew open as she began to sink into sleep. She’d been up two full days, and her senses had set themselves on the edge of awareness.

Kate couldn’t believe they’d given her the use of Adam’s old bedroom. Her eyes took in every nook and cranny as she imagined Adam as a child. Colleen had mentioned he’d been a science buff even then, intent on his microscope, pricking his own finger for blood, analyzing insects he’d dragged in from outside.

Before she’d lain down, Kate had stood at the wide window, gazing out at the sprawling yard. A huge maple stood outside the pane, its branches almost touching the glass. She’d wondered if Adam ever used the limbs to sneak out at night when he was a teen. She’d grinned at her silly imagination. She’d seen too many movies.

With relentless curiosity, her thoughts clung to Adam. Not the Adam she’d seen unconscious at Vance Memorial, but the Adam she imagined as a youth and the grown-up Adam she knew in Venezuela.

Even with his moments of impudence, he had made her laugh and entertained her with his interest in nature. She remembered one evening when the clinic’s interior had become stifling, and she and Adam had run into each other outdoors, trying to catch a breath of fresh air. They’d found a gentle breeze and stood together admiring the late-afternoon sky. Appreciating the blessing, each had responded to the beauty of the sunset, its colors spreading across the horizon like pastel silk unraveling on a misty blue lake.

She recalled other days they had both marveled at the birds. Colorful parrots and tropical creatures she’d never seen before except perhaps at a zoo—large banana-curved beaks and plumage the spectrum of primary colors. Their chatter filled the daytime, reverberating with unique whistles and plaintive calls that punctuated the solitude of the compound.

One day Adam had joined her and two other staff members on a free afternoon to visit the lagoon. They saw the mangroves with their long roots extending into the water like legs on a spider. Adam had been curious that day and had studied them so closely that when an animal had skittered in the bushes, the noise had sent him flying backward. They had all laughed, and she’d felt pleased seeing Adam laugh at himself.

Kate covered her head with a pillow, then counted backward from a hundred. Finally, somewhere between three and three-thirty, she drifted off, but before the sun rose, she awakened with no hope of falling back to sleep.

Concern provoked her thoughts. She rose, took a quick shower, dressed and called a taxi. Downstairs, she found a tea bag and popped a mug of water into the microwave, figuring she would buy her much-needed coffee at the hospital.

By the time she swallowed the last of the black pekoe, the taxi’s headlights flashed across the windows. She hurried outside before he honked and slumped in the back of the cab, wishing she could catch a few minutes’ rest.

Solace finally came when Kate stood beside Adam’s bed in ICU. She spent the hours ambling back and forth between the waiting room and his bedside.

“Adam,” she whispered. “Use that attitude of yours, that self-importance I’ve seen so often, and wake up. Fight. Don’t let this get you.”

His finger was connected to a pulse oximeter. Kate touched his hand, rubbing her palm over his cool skin. “Adam. Let’s pray together.”

She leaned closer to his ear and murmured the prayer she’d said so often, asking God to renew his strength and spirit, to make him whole again.

When she’d said the Amen, she lifted her hand and touched his face. “Adam, wake up. You must make it through this. You’re loved by so many people.”

She turned away, realizing that, without question, she was becoming one of them.



Kate lifted her gaze when she heard footsteps and saw Adam’s parents step into the hospital waiting room.

When Liza saw her, she hurried to Kate’s side. “How’s Adam?”

“They did an EEG this morning. He seems to be doing a little better.”

“He’s conscious?” Liza’s eyes brightened with her words.

“No. But his vital signs are good.”

Mrs. Montgomery’s face sagged with disappointment.

“His breathing has improved,” Kate added, hoping to cheer her. “I’m guessing they’ll take the chest tube out soon.”

“That would be wonderful,” Liza said. “What were the results of his EEG?”

“Adam’s not back yet. I expect we’ll hear something soon. The doctor usually stops by once he’s read the test results.”

Liza dropped her bag on an empty seat and wrung her hands. “This waiting is so stressful.”

“It is.” Kate massaged the tension in her neck, then scooted deeper into the cushion, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She’d fought sleep all night, and now it seemed to overtake her.

“I wonder if he’s back and they…”

Kate pulled herself upward and opened her eyes.

Liza regarded her face. “I’m sorry, dear. You look so tired, and I disturbed you. I apologize.”

“No need. I was just resting my eyes.”

“I feel so badly you couldn’t sleep last night. Was the bed uncomfortable? I know it’s difficult to sleep when—”

“It wasn’t the bed. That felt wonderful. I was just too wound up. I’ll sleep better tonight.”

“I hope so,” Liza said, sinking in the chair beside Kate. “It’s so kind of you to stay here day in and day out like this…for Adam.”

Her words charged up Kate’s back. “We were close in Venezuela…working together constantly. I can’t help but be concerned.”

“I understand,” Liza said. “You’re a kindhearted young woman.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, not knowing how to respond since her motivation was selfish.

Kate’s gaze drifted toward the door, and a doctor stepped into the room. He gave her a nod and headed their way.

“Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?”

Kate struggled to keep from rising. Liza stood and joined her husband.

“Yes,” Frank said.

“The EEG shows no permanent damage. We’ll continue with analgesics for pain and keep an eye on him. I noted some extensive swelling, but hopefully that will subside and he’ll regain consciousness soon.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Liza asked.

“Brain stimulation. Talk to him. Patients can often hear. They just can’t respond.”

Liza nodded. “I’ll feel better once I see him this morning.”

“He should be back in his room now if you’d like to check. Once they remove the chest tube, he’ll be going up to the surgical floor later today.”

“That’s great news,” Frank said.

The physician agreed, then departed.

Liza turned to Kate. “We’ll go in for a few minutes.”

“You go ahead.”

His mother clasped her bag, then took her husband’s arm and headed toward the exit.

Kate watched them leave. She’d tried to keep her attitude hopeful, but she wasn’t as optimistic as the physician. Adam had been unconscious too long.

She’d worked with concussion patients before, but Adam’s injury seemed worse. The corner of the cabinet impacted his head above the temple. Wounds like that could cause diffuse axonal injury that resulted in disrupting the neural connections. Time could regenerate the damage, but Adam could be left with significant impairment. The possibility crushed Kate’s hopes.

Pushing herself from the chair, she rose and left the waiting room. She took the elevator to the second floor where she found the chapel empty. She stood at the back, struck by the dramatic stained-glass window at the front. Brightened by sunlight, its colors spread out along the beige carpet, leaving it dappled with red, blue, purple and green.

Kate sank into the last pew and closed her eyes. She needed God’s help—safety for Adam and guidance for her own upside-down world. Wrapped in a moment of silence, she spoke to God, the way she’d done since childhood. Somehow the Lord came through whenever she needed Him the most.

Her prayer centered around Adam, asking God to heal him and return him to good health, unaffected by the horrible wounds he’d received. She prayed for the Lord’s loving guidance to provide her life a new direction. Though she longed to return to Venezuela, she knew God was in charge. Perhaps He had something different in mind to give her life purpose. She would accept the Lord’s will as she’d always done.

Opening her eyes, Kate was gripped by the vivid window in front of her—not the colors, but the scene of Jesus healing the sick. His hands lay on the eyes of a blind man who knelt before him. Nearby, another man stood with his weight supported by crutches. The look on the men’s faces awed Kate, seeing the hope and trust of those who were ill who waited for healing.

Kate carried the thought into her life. Did she have that kind of hope and trust? Today she worried about her future and what she would do about a place to stay until things were sorted out. She stopped herself in midthought. The Lord had sustained her through a difficult childhood. She felt confident God would not let her down.

Feeling uplifted by the depiction on the stained glass and by her prayer, Kate rose and stepped into the corridor. She needed to speak to the nursing director. She didn’t want to put it off any longer. Her destiny lay on the outcome of her superior’s decisions.

Kate’s footsteps tapped along the tile floor as she returned to the elevator and traveled upward to the administration floor. Hopefully today, she’d know her immediate plans, anyway.




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