Adam's Promise

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.