One Summer in Santa Fe - By Molly Evans Page 0,52
going to ask anyway. Could you take him home for me and stay until I’m sure she’s really stable?” The trembling in his arms made its way to his hands and to Piper’s shoulders. “I…I need you, Piper.” More than ever, he admitted only to himself.
“Taylor, it’s you he needs, not me.”
“Please.”
Looking into his eyes, she seemed to come to a decision and glanced over at Alex. “I’ll take him. Just come as soon as you can. You’re the only family he has right now, and he needs you.” She placed her hands on his wrists and squeezed, then pulled away from him.
Looking over at his innocent nephew, he whispered, “I need him, too.” He broke away from her and stared through the tiny window in the OR door. Waiting.
Finally, hours later, exhausted and mentally drained, Taylor was able to see Caroline. After a quick visit in the recovery room, he sought out Ian to get the details doctor to doctor. She’d have a long recovery ahead of her, that was a given, but they’d saved the leg with pins and bolts and a lot of other hardware. She’d learn to walk again, but it would be a lengthy process. Something about which Taylor was gaining new insight into.
Taylor entered the ICU. Putting one foot in front of the other required more brain function than he had at the moment, but he plodded along, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to wake up a little bit. Someone, one of the nurses probably, had set a relatively comfortable chair beside Caroline’s bed, and Taylor collapsed into it.
A long sigh escaped him, and he bent forward, clasping his hands between his knees. Eyes closed, he stayed that way, listening to the background noise of the ventilator, the heart monitor, the sounds that were all familiar to him, but now took on new, significant meaning.
Life was so very fragile, and these machines were all that were holding Caroline together. The significance of that fact had escaped Taylor until now. Things like this happened to other people, other people’s families, and he put them back together with confidence. He couldn’t sit doing nothing by his sister’s bedside, waiting for someone to fix her. Confidence this night was sorely lacking.
It had been just the two of them for so long. They helped each other, depended on each other, needed each other. And now Taylor was powerless to do anything except sit and wait. It wasn’t in him to do nothing, and he ground his teeth in frustration.
Piper’s words came back to him. Alex needs you. And he knew then that he had something to do to help Caroline. Ensuring that her child was safe and cared for wasn’t nothing. Reaching out, he took her limp hand carefully in his. “I’m sorry, Caro,” he said, adopting his childhood nickname for her. “I’m sorry you’re here, but Ian has fixed your leg, and we’re just waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Don’t worry about Alex. I’ll take care of him as long as I need to.” Pausing, he watched the monitor pulse away. The overhead light reflected off his watch, reminding him that the night was rushing by. He glanced at the timepiece and stilled.
The timer that he’d set weeks ago sped merrily along, obviously unaware that Taylor’s life had come to a screeching halt. Time waited for no one and pulsed on regardless. He hadn’t wanted to take Alex, he hadn’t wanted the interruption of his lifestyle, the nuisance of it all. But as he watched the time count down to the end of his agreement, something knotted in his gut, sickening him. Piper was right.
He was afraid.
Reaching over with the other hand, he pushed the button twice. Once to stop the timer, and again to end the program. The watch face returned to its normal mode. He rose from his chair and gave his numbers to the ICU nurse caring for Caroline. “I’ll be available should anything change. Otherwise I’ll be back in a few hours.” He needed some rest, and he was as certain as he could be that Caroline was stable. Putting his personal trust in his coworkers and friends was something he’d never had to do before. He received hugs from the staff as he made his way out of the hospital and their sympathy almost pushed him over the edge. He hadn’t realized how many people genuinely cared about him.
He was humbled by their outreach. He was