Million Dollar Christmas Bride - Holly Rayner Page 0,56

else but her mother’s well-being.

When she crossed the threshold to the ballroom, she saw a crowd of guests standing between a scattered array of folding chairs. A few of the chairs were toppled over to their side. Several guests were crouched down.

Bianca ran toward the knot of people.

“Bianca!”

She heard someone call her name. The voice was familiar—she’d heard it since her birth.

She turned to her right and saw her mom, sitting in a chair with both arms draped over her walker. Her left hand, which had never worked properly since the stroke, was bent in a strange position, resting on the metal curve of one of the walker’s grips.

“Bianca, she collapsed,” Helen said, her voice quavering with fear. “Is there an ambulance on the way? She needs help.”

Bianca rushed over toward her mother. She felt so relieved to see her sitting there, in the same condition she’d been in at the start of the day.

“Mom, you’re okay,” she said breathlessly when she reached her mother’s side.

“Yes, of course,” Helen said.

“I thought—when the nurse said that someone collapsed—I thought it might be you.”

Bianca worked on catching her breath as she looked back toward the knot of people. “I saw one of the concierges calling for help. An ambulance should be here any minute.”

She watched as Jackson reached the steadily growing gathering that had formed around the collapsed person—whoever it was.

When people spotted Jackson, they made way for him. An aisle cleared, and Jackson stepped forward.

In a brief moment, between the time when the little crowd parted and when Jackson stepped forward, Bianca caught sight of a figure lying sprawled on the floor.

The figure wore a royal-purple skirt and matching blazer. At the sight of the fabric and the crumpled form of the figure, Bianca knew—the person who had collapsed was Mary Wylde.

Jackson knelt over his mother. Danielle hovered just behind him. Bianca could see that they were taking turns speaking.

“Are you okay here?” Bianca asked her mom.

“Yes.” Helen reached out her right hand and squeezed Bianca’s arm. “Go see if you can help her. You have medical experience. The poor woman was just about to sit down… I watched the whole thing. She’d just reached her seat. She clutched her chest and fell to her knees. Then, she was lying down flat out on the ground.”

Bianca pulled away from her mother and hurried over toward the crowd. A concierge had located an AED, and he was pulling out pads and wires as if to have it ready should it be needed.

At the same time, Jackson held his mom’s hand. Mary looked frightened; the whites of her eyes were visible around her pupils.

“It’s okay,” Jackson said to her. “An ambulance is on the way.”

“Let’s all back up and give them space,” Danielle said to the crowd.

Bianca heard the sound of approaching sirens. As the crowd around her stepped back, she stepped forward. “What can I do?” she asked, crouching down next to Jackson. He was carefully pulling up one sleeve of the blazer that Mary wore, exposing her bony wrist.

“Her pulse feels irregular to me,” Jackson said.

Bianca steadied her breathing and reached for Mary’s wrist. A moment later she nodded to Jackson. “You’re right,” she said.

“Mom, it’s going to be okay,” Jackson said.

“I must have forgotten,” Mary said, her eyes still wide. “To take—to take my medicine. This morning. I forgot! There was so much going on. The weather, the wedding. I forgot…”

Bianca was extremely relieved to see medics running across the room, carrying equipment with them.

“She’s having chest pain, and her pulse is irregular,” she told the first medic who reached them. He was a young man with a shaved head. “She has a history of heart problems.”

“High blood pressure,” Jackson chimed in, “among other things.”

“I forgot to take my darn pills,” Mary added, from her position on the floor. Then her face became pale, and she moaned again.

“Let’s load her up and analyze the rhythm on the way to Saint Joe’s,” the medic with the shaved head said. “Does anyone here have a list of medications that she usually takes?”

Medics swarmed around Mary and began positioning her so that they could slide her onto a stretcher.

“I’m guessing she carries a list or the actual bottles in her purse,” Jackson said. He looked around at the messy scene, then stooped down to retrieve a black leather purse from between two overturned chairs. “Here it is.”

“Bring that with you,” the young medic said. “You’ll ride with us and we’ll fill out some