Adam's Promise

“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?”