Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,47
feet.
Since the woman was determined to get herself upright, Jeannette lent her a hand.
By the time Mariam was vertical, her complexion had lost most of its color.
She needed medical help—yet the notion of police involvement had frightened her.
Perhaps in Syria, any contact with the government was dangerous—especially if you were Christian.
But her injury required attention.
Jeannette debated her options. If she could get Mariam to the car, she could drive her to the urgent care center. Letting a doctor she knew examine her ankle shouldn’t be too traumatic.
“Logan see.” She pointed to the woman’s ankle. “Okay?”
Mariam hesitated a moment. Shook her head. “No money.”
“No worry.” The churches must have made some arrangements for medical care for the family—but if not, she’d pay for the urgent care center visit herself.
Without giving the woman a chance to protest, she turned to the girls, who were holding hands and watching with saucer eyes. “Molly, you and Elisa stay here with Mrs. Shabo while I put Toby in the house. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
“Where’s his cage?”
“In the empty room.”
After retrieving a folding chair from the back porch for Mariam, she took Toby’s leash and pulled the protesting dog toward the house. “Sorry, fella. I don’t have time to play games or put up with your antics. Be a good boy and make this easy, please.”
The pup actually cooperated—more or less—as she entered the house and searched for the spare bedroom.
Once she found it, however, he began barking and dug in his paws.
“Come on, Toby.” She gripped his collar and joined the game of tug-of-war. “It’s an emergency. We won’t be gone long.”
Somehow she managed to get the twenty pounds of writhing fur into the cage—but as she locked the door, he let loose with ear-splitting howls.
She winced.
No wonder Logan had complained about losing his hearing.
Back outside, she raced around the hedge to get her car, pulled into Logan’s driveway, and managed to support Mariam as the woman shuffled to the vehicle.
She had no car seats for the girls, but she buckled them into the adult restraints in the back and prayed none of the Hope Harbor cops would pull her over during the short drive to town.
The ride was silent—and stressful. Tension radiated off the two girls in the back seat, and Mariam had gone from colorless to gray.
Not until she pulled up in front of the urgent care center did her pulse begin to settle back into the semblance of a normal rhythm. In less than five minutes, she ought to be able to hand this over to the experts and escape back to her peaceful farm.
“Stay here.” She addressed her three passengers. “I’ll get help.”
With that, she slid out of the car and jogged to the door.
No one was in the waiting room when she entered, and she pressed the bell on the front desk.
A fortysomething woman appeared at the door that led to the examining rooms. “May I help you?”
Jeannette explained the situation in a few short sentences. “The patient is Logan—Dr. West’s—babysitter. If he’s available, you might want to let him know.”
“I’ll do that, get a wheelchair, and meet you at the car.” The woman disappeared behind the door again.
Jeannette returned to the parking lot, dredging up a reassuring smile for the solemn occupants of her Civic as she opened Mariam’s door. “Help is coming.”
The woman nodded, as if she understood. And it was possible she did. All of the Shabos were progressing at a remarkable pace, and it was obvious Mariam was putting in extra hours on the vocabulary and pronunciation links she left with them after each lesson. But Elisa was advancing fastest, thanks to her interactions with Molly.
Three minutes later, Logan pushed a wheelchair through the door and joined her beside the car. “Sorry you got pulled into this.”
“Emergencies happen.”
“What’s the story?” He leaned down to examine Mariam’s ankle.
“According to the eyewitness who speaks fluent English—that would be your niece—Toby gets the blame for this.”
He sighed. “Why am I not surprised?” He finished his preliminary probing and stood. “I don’t think this is too serious, but we’ll take an X-ray to verify that.” He positioned the wheelchair and helped the woman into it. “Where is the demon dog?”
“In his cage—and not happy about it. He was very vocal in his protests.”
“I can imagine.”
Jeannette shut the door behind Mariam. “Shall I bring the girls inside?”
“For now. Thomma gets off in about forty-five minutes. I’ll have Susan try his cell and leave a message if he doesn’t answer. He can swing by here