A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,65

still be focused on two other females he adored—his daughter and Lucy.

Kelsey trembled in his arms, her body yielding against his, the weariness of her trip seeming to melt away. “This feels so right.” She tilted her head back and gazed into his eyes. “I thought of you so much while I was gone.”

Her face flickered with a new thought. “And ached at a funeral with no faith message. It was so sad. Doug attended church, and I’d always trusted that he was a believer, but the service felt empty and hopeless.”

He listened, holding her close and sensing the sorrow she felt. “The Lord knew his heart. That’s your hope for him. Shame can pull us from faith, and hopefully in those last days, he returned to what he’d believed.” Ross longed for a better answer, one with more assurance, but only the Lord knew the truth. He still had good news to share, and this seemed like the right time. “I heard some good news Friday morning.”

She jerked her head upward. “About—?”

“The insurance. The medication is being covered. In fact, I picked up the prescription right after I heard. Dr. Timmons called it in and Peyton’s been on it for two days.” His chest expanded with hope.

Her joyful expression sank. “You should have called me.”

“I knew you had a lot on your mind, and I didn’t want to give you my wonderful news while you were dealing with a difficult situation.” His excuse sounded empty. In truth, he wanted to see the happiness on her face. His motivation was selfish.

“Please, tell me all the good news you can. I want to know…and the bad news, too, Ross. If we’re this close, we need to share our joys and sorrows.”

He nodded as he raised his hand. “Scout’s honor. I promise and I’m sorry.”

She brushed her lips across his again and eased back. “I smell coffee.”

He sniffed the air, smelling the brisk scent, and he grinned.

Kelsey slipped from his arms and headed for the coffeepot, but he prayed that was as far as she would slip away from him. He wanted to hold her forever.

The doctor’s voice faded as Kelsey’s mind spun with his diagnosis. He gazed at her over his glasses, his face serious, and she knew they had to face his conclusion.

“But…” She shook her head, digging into her thoughts for alternatives. “I don’t understand. What about gamma knife surgery?” It was noninvasive and safer, with only a short hospital stay, but Dr. Bryant only looked at her, his eyes intense.

“I just explained that, Mrs. Rhodes.”

She flinched, wondering where her mind had been when he’d told her. She lowered her head. “I’m sorry.” Her hands twisted in her lap, and she couldn’t bear to look at Lucy.

“We’re still not sure until we get inside if it’s an actual tumor or scar tissue, and the gamma knife can lead to more scar tissue. We want this surgery to be the final one for Lucy. If it’s not a tumor, then we’ve won a battle, and the scar tissue can be removed, hopefully for the last time.”

“The last time.” She spoke the words bursting in her head. “If only we could count on that.”

“You’ve been doing well, right, Lucy?”

“I’ve been great. No symptoms even.”

Kelsey finally turned her head to see her daughter’s face. She looked strong and determined to win the battle. “But a craniotomy. Is that our only choice?” That was the word she didn’t want to hear. A craniotomy meant opening her skull and removing a bone flap. It meant Lucy would lose her lovely hair again. It meant…too much. She fought her tears.

“It is because it’s the best way to remove whatever is growing. We can keep our fingers crossed—pray—that Lucy will be on the road to health again. And it’s a small setback if she’s tumor free. If not, we’ve taken care of it before it grows, and that’s good, too.”

“It’s not a tumor.” Lucy’s voice cut through his final word.

Dr. Bryant blinked. “You sound confident, Lucy.”

“I am, because I prayed.” Her jaw had set in determination.

He gave a desperate look at Kelsey. “That’s very good, but do you realize that…”

Kelsey jumped to his assistance. “Lucy knows that sometimes God’s answer is no. She’s still confident.”

He flipped her file closed. “Okay, then.” He drew in a deep breath. “That is how it stands. We’ll need to set a surgery date. I’ll schedule you for some lab tests, and you’ll donate some blood. Don’t take any aspirin or