Six-Week Marriage Miracle Read online

  “Promise?” he asked, hiding his worry behind a lighthearted tone.

  She nodded, offering him a slight smile. “I promise.”

  “Ramon! Hold on!”

  Gabe’s rising voice and restless movements brought Leah out of her catnap. As she had done so many times during the last twelve hours, she padded across the dark room to pull him out of his nightmare.

  “It’s okay,” she repeated as she sat in the chair next to his bed and held his free hand. “It’s only a dream.”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, still in the grip of his memories. “’Sall my fault.” Then, “Not Will, too!”

  His anguish was almost palpable and all Leah could do was watch him relive those moments of horror with tears in her own eyes.

  “So sorry, guys,” he murmured as tears slipped out from behind his closed eyes and his shoulders shook. “So sorry. My fault. All my fault.”

  Slowly, he settled back into his uneasy slumber, although she didn’t know if her voice or her touch had caused that particular scene to fade.

  Oh, Gabe. You went through hell, didn’t you?

  As she lightly blotted the moisture from his face with a damp washcloth, stroked the hard lines of his cheekbones and brushed aside the lock of hair on his sweaty forehead, she murmured what had become her litany. Idly, she wondered if Jack and Theresa were reliving their horrible memories, too. No doubt they were. Poor Theresa.

  With his face freshened, she continued to hold his hand and stroke his fingers, thinking about how he’d glossed over his experience to her, to Jeff, and probably to everyone else he’d spoken to since he’d returned. Now, though, in the dark of night and without his full awareness, he’d given her a glimpse of the tragedy and trauma he’d endured.

  She’d been so caught up in having him home again and worrying over what his return meant to her personally that she hadn’t considered the emotional aftermath of his experience. For the past two years she’d thought him cold, unfeeling and insensitive, but he’d obviously been more adept at hiding his emotions, compartmentalizing his feelings and carrying on in the face of adversity and disappointment than she was.

  Worse, though, was how, as a nurse, she should have known he would feel survivor’s guilt, not only because he’d lived through his ordeal and his friends had not but also because his organization had been responsible for sending them on this trip in the first place.

  No wonder he felt as if he were to blame.

  He should have told her all this, she thought self-righteously, but almost immediately she understood why he hadn’t. He couldn’t blurt out the whole traumatic tale the moment he saw her, could he, especially when they’d lived separate lives for a year? Ever since they’d been reunited, they’d been surrounded by people and hadn’t had the time or the privacy to delve into the details.

  Had that been the problem with their own losses? Had they been surrounded by so many well-meaning friends and family that they’d never had the opportunity to deal with their pain as a couple? And when they’d tried, had they both buried it so far underground that they hadn’t been able to reach it?

  As she gazed at his face and smoothed away the agony etched there, his vulnerability tugged on her heartstrings. No, she decided, she felt more than compassion for a traumatized patient. She felt the pain of seeing a loved one suffer.

  A former loved one, she amended. She didn’t love Gabe in the same eye-sparkling, heart-racing way she once had because there were too many hurts and philosophical differences between them, but underneath all the bad stuff, the stuff that had gone wrong, the affection they’d once shared was there.

  Unfortunately, affection didn’t make a marriage. Love did, and hers had faded. Gabe might think they could rekindle those feelings but even if that were possible, he’d still want the family she couldn’t give him. And as she’d told her mother when she’d phoned her earlier in the evening to share the news of Gabe’s miraculous return, eventually they’d wind up in the same untenable situation.

  Her mother hadn’t been as certain about the outcome as she was but with Gabe’s parents having died years earlier—one in a car accident and the other of a heart attack—her mom had always carried a soft spot in her heart for her son-in-law. While she was willing to support Leah’s decision, whatever it might be, she’d also thought Gabe’s suggestion made sense.

  Clearly, everyone was hoping she and Gabe would have a happy ending, although Leah had given up believing in them.

  But happy ending or not, she’d made a deal in order to win the prize she wanted—his name scrawled across the bottom of legal papers. In the meantime, she’d follow the letter of their verbal contract. “Say what you mean and mean what you say,” he’d said, and she intended to live by that rule.

  Perhaps the best place to begin was with the deaths of his friends. Their loss obviously weighed heavily on him and if he would express his feelings openly on that subject, perhaps they could work their way into dealing with their personal issues.

  Relieved he was finally resting easier, she stifled a yawn. She should go back to her recliner, but decided she didn’t have the strength or the desire to let go of his hand. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but it seemed as if this small contact was enough to hold his nightmares at bay.

  She’d never felt as if Gabe had needed her, but in this, at least, he apparently did. For now, it was enough.

  Gabe drifted awake to find the sun shining through the half-opened mini-blinds covering his window. Leah stood in the sunlight, gazing into the courtyard, arms crossed, her brow furrowed as if contemplating a serious subject.

  For a moment, he simply lay there, looking his fill. They’d lost so much these past few years and, if not for his accident, they might have continued down their separate paths to an irreparable end. In fact, during the first few days of his trip, he’d seriously considered agreeing to her suggestion of a divorce, not because he wanted one but because he’d felt like such a failure. After being unable to give Leah her heart’s desire—a baby—in this, at least, he could give her something she wanted.

  The plane crash, however, had changed everything.

  As he stared at his wife, who was more beautiful now than she had been when they’d married, he knew he would do everything in his power to make her happy again.

  Suddenly, she faced him and smiled, looking more relaxed than she had a minute ago. “You’re awake,” she said.

  “Hello to you, too,” he said, his voice rusty from disuse.

  She approached his bed, clearly intent on his IV pump, but he reached out and snagged her hand. Her hand was soft, her bone structure fine and her eyes uncertain.

  Gabe, however, had no doubts, no reservations about what he wanted. He tugged her just hard enough to shift her center of gravity in his direction.

  “Gabe,” she protested.

  Before she could utter another word, he tipped his chin to meet her mouth. Gradually, her lips softened under his and a small noise escaped her mouth—the same small sound that came out as a satisfied sigh.

  He wished he could give her the sort of kiss he wanted to, but he didn’t want fuzzy-teeth breath when he did. “Good morning,” he whispered.

  “Same to you,” she answered, her voice as husky as he remembered from their more lighthearted days. Then, as if she recalled where she was, she straightened and began fiddling with his tubing. “How do you feel?”

  The nurse was back and the bride he remembered had vanished. No matter. There would be time to find her again—just as soon as he sprang himself from this joint.

  He took stock of his aches and pains. They were still there, and a few new ones had cropped up, but his bone-weary exhaustion was gone. “Pretty good. How about you?”

  “Me?” She seemed startled by his question. “I’m fine.”

  “I wondered. From your expression as you were staring out the window, I’d guess you were solving the world’s problems,” he said offhandedly.

  She disco
nnected the tubing from the cannula in his wrist and draped it over the IV stand. “Not the world’s, just the foundation banquet’s.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Sheldon and I had planned a memorial ceremony, but with your return we should turn it into a celebration.”

  “Keep the memorial idea,” he advised. “It doesn’t seem right to celebrate when two of my group didn’t come home.”

  “Okay, but your friends, associates and donors will want to hear about your experiences. You intend to speak as usual, don’t you?”

  “Only briefly,” he said. “I’d rather review the year in pictures.”

  “Then we will.” She flicked his blankets off his feet. “Are you ready for a stroll to the bathroom?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said fervently as he levered himself up with his good arm and swung his legs off the edge of the bed.

  “Take it slow,” she advised. “You’re probably stiff and sore.”

  Every muscle ached and his ribs protested his movements but he ignored the pain as he hobbled across the room to his destination, aware of his wife hovering beside him in case he should fall en route. “No kidding, I can manage from here.”

  He closed the door for privacy to take care of his most pressing needs. Then he studied his face in the mirror and rubbed at the stubble before proceeding to remove it.

  Fifteen minutes later, he left the bathroom and found a meal tray waiting on his bedside table. “I’d rather eat at home,” he said.

  “Good luck with that,” she said. “I emptied your refrigerator and pantry a few weeks ago when we thought you weren’t coming…back. By the time we shop for necessities, it will be well past lunchtime. Besides, if you don’t eat this, this delicious hospital cafeteria cuisine will only go to waste.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it these days to make it taste good? Cuisine?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “You can have it,” he offered.

  “Sorry. You need the nutrition more than I do.”

  “Then I’ll share. Remember when we shared a piece of pie?”

  She smiled. “That was only so I could appease my sweet tooth at a fraction of the calories. This, however, is a healthy meal and you need to eat every bite. You should be starved.”

  “I am a little hungry.”

  “I would think so. You haven’t eaten since the soup and crackers I’d fixed for you yesterday afternoon, so dig in before your eggs get cold.”

  “Okay, okay,” he groused as he headed for the chair, “but I’ll sit in the recliner. Lolling in bed makes me feel like I’m sick and I’m not.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said. “How did you sleep?”

  He vaguely remembered her unhooking his IV before stumbling to the bathroom at some point, but other than the occasional murmur of Leah’s voice, there was nothing he could focus on.

  “Fine, I guess,” he said slowly, watching as she whipped the stainless-steel dome off his plate to reveal several strips of bacon, two generous scoops of scrambled eggs and four pieces of buttered toast. “I can’t believe I missed dinner, though. Eating is something we all looked forward to. Jack kept talking about his famous grilled chicken and Theresa wanted anything covered in chocolate.”

  “And what did you want?”

  “Your Irish stew. Any chance we can have that one night?” he asked as he dug into the eggs and decided they didn’t taste like hospital cooking. However, if she expected him to polish off the double portion, she’d be sorely disappointed.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I’ll work on it while you’re napping this afternoon.”

  He shook his head as he chewed. “If I nap, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  “You might surprise yourself. Being at home, in your own bed can make a big difference with how well you sleep.”

  Something in her tone put him on alert. Worry over what he might have said knotted his stomach. “I had a nightmare, didn’t I?”

  “It was pretty intense. Do you have bad dreams every night?”

  He carefully placed his fork on his plate, his appetite gone. “At first, yes. The last week or so, not as often. I’d hoped they’d disappear once I got home.”

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  He let out a deep breath. “No,” he said honestly. Then, because he noticed her stiffen, he finished his sentence. “But I should.”

  “You said we have to be more open and express our thoughts and feelings,” she reminded him. “It’s part of our contract.”

  “I know, and I will. The problem is, I don’t know where to begin.” He pushed his plate back. “Here. I’m not hungry anymore.”

  She bit her lower lip, clearly not happy with his answer or his sudden loss of appetite, but she simply nodded. “Too much too soon?”

  He wondered if she was asking about the food or the conversation, but he didn’t press for clarification. “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Small meals more often is probably best.”

  She’d been talking about food, which was a relief. “Probably,” he said.

  “The same holds true for our conversation. Even if you can’t share everything all at once, a little bit here and there is better than holding it all inside.”

  She’d caught him off guard, but her analogy was sound. He let out a deep breath. “I know.”

  “Good, because I’ll let you slide this time, but once we’re home, the kid gloves come off,” she told him.

  Relieved by his reprieve, he nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. By the way, when can I leave?”

  “As soon as you have another blood test,” she said. “In fact, someone from the lab should be here shortly.”

  As if on cue, there came a knock at the door and it was, as Leah had predicted, a phlebotomist. A few minutes later, the woman left with her vials and Gabe opted to enjoy the shower once again.

  This time, when he came out of the bathroom, he felt like a new man and said so.

  “You certainly look better than you did when you first arrived,” she responded.

  “I had nowhere to go but up,” he quipped.

  “On the contrary, you could have gotten worse,” she said sternly, as if he needed the reminder. “Thanks to your overnight stay and the miracle of antibiotics, the redness on your leg has faded a lot already. I’m sure your ribs benefitted from the rest, too.”

  “Maybe so, but—”

  “Jeff was right and you know it,” she insisted. “In fact, if your roles had been reversed, you would have done the same.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll cry uncle. But I know Jeff has designs on you so don’t expect me to praise him as if he’s the next Albert Schweitzer.”

  The sound of her laughter caught him by surprise. It had seemed like forever since he’d heard it. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You.” She smiled. “You’re jealous.”

  “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’m not embarrassed to admit it, either, especially when the prettiest woman in the hospital is my wife.”

  At first, she appeared taken aback, then a pink hue colored her skin, which suggested that he was long overdue when it came to paying compliments and giving attention to his spouse. He’d fallen down in that area, too, but that was another mistake he planned to correct.

  Although, as he studied her, he noticed a few other details, too. Details like wrinkled scrubs, dark smudges under her eyes and an occasional stifled yawn.

  “Did you stay here all night?” he asked, guessing her answer.

  “I said I would.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t go home.”

  “I didn’t know when you’d wake up,” she said simply, “and I promised I’d be here when you did.”

  The fact that she’d put her own comfort aside and gone to such lengths for him when he didn’t deserve it was humbling.

  “While I appreciate your gesture, you should have left at some point to get some
rest,” he chided.

  “I should have,” she agreed. “If I’d known your nap would stretch into eighteen hours, I would have.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Glutton for punishment,” she said lightly. “By the way, you had a steady stream of visitors, so I made a list because I didn’t want to forget anyone.” She grabbed the yellow steno pad lying on the table and held it out. “Would you like to…?”

  He waved her offer aside. “I’ll read it later.”

  “Sheldon came by several times. He insisted you call him the minute you’re awake.”

  “He can wait.”

  “He won’t be happy,” she warned.

  “I’ll see him soon enough.” He glanced at the wall clock. “Any chance you can call the lab and get my report?”

  “Impatient as usual.”

  “If I have to sit and do nothing, I’d rather—”

  “Sit and do nothing at home,” she finished for him.

  He grinned sheepishly. “I’ve said that before, haven’t I?”

  “Yeah, but you’ll have to hold tight for a few minutes while I pester the lab for the results.”

  “Okay, but don’t forget I want to see the report, too.”

  “As if you’d let me forget,” she answered wryly, before she slipped out of the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  GABE found a pair of loose-fitting chinos and a button-down shirt in the tiny closet and decided to beat the proverbial rush and change now rather than later. He unhooked his IV, leaving the cannula in his arm for Leah to deal with, then slowly dressed. The process wasn’t pain free by any means, but his struggles only gave him another good reason for needing Leah at home with him.

  He was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for the sharp pain in his ribs to fade, when Dr. Taylor Ewing strolled in.

  “How are you, Gabe?” the chief of surgery asked in his booming voice.

  “Doing better now that I’m home,” Gabe answered.

  “Good, good. Getting dismissed soon, I take it?”

  “As soon as my latest blood test is done.”

  “In that case, before you go, would you mind reviewing a case? It came via email through your medical organization and as it’s my first official foray into your world of tele-medicine, I’d like you watching over my shoulder. I’d hate to delete a crucial file by accident.”