The man showed her into a small waiting room furnished with a black vinyl couch and an orange plastic chair. “You sit down, and I’ll go tell the doctor where you are, all right?”
Jocelyn nodded jerkily and sank onto the couch. She clenched her hands into fists and stared down at them, shocked when she saw a tear fall and bounce off her white knuckles. Impatiently she wiped her cheeks with her coat sleeve and then started to pick up her purse to get a tissue. Her purse wasn’t there. Vaguely she glanced around the room, wondering where it was and then dismissed its whereabouts as unimportant. There was nothing in her purse that couldn’t be replaced, whereas Lucas…
Jocelyn swallowed the raw taste of fear.
“Mrs. Forester, I’m so glad you’re here.” A tall, elderly man bustled into the room. “I’m Dr. Edwards, the staff neurosurgeon, and I’ve just seen your husband. We’re doing an MRI at the moment, and as soon as that is done I want to go in.”
“In?” Jocelyn repeated blankly.
“Operate,” the man said succinctly. “There’s inter-cranial bleeding going on and it has to be stopped.
“It’s extremely fortunate you were with him or we would have lost precious time trying to locate the next of kin.”
Jocelyn shuddered. She wasn’t sure whether his half brother or his stepmother would be considered his next of kin, but one thing she did know, neither one of them would have lifted a finger to help him. They valued Lucas’s possessions, not Lucas himself. In fact, she thought, as she remembered Bill’s hard eyes glaring at her, she wouldn’t put it past Bill to stall giving his consent in the hope that Lucas might suffer permanent brain damage. Her stomach lurched. Or worse.
She didn’t dare let the doctor find out she wasn’t Lucas’s wife. Not until after he was out of danger. Then she’d confess.
Taking a deep breath, Jocelyn said, “I’ll sign whatever is necessary to ensure…my husband’s recovery.” The word husband rang mockingly in her ears. For so long she’d dreamed of Lucas coming to love her, and now that there was no chance of that ever happening, she was publicly claiming him as her husband.
Her breath caught on a sob at the irony of it.
“I know it’s hard, Mrs. Forester, but try not to worry. The MRI was looking good when I left. With just the smallest amount of luck, he’ll sail through the operation and by christmas, all he’ll have to remember this by is a scar, which any good plastic surgeon can take care of.
“Now, you try and relax, and I’ll send the secretary in with the release forms for you to sign. I’m going to go prep him for surgery.”
Jocelyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down in tears.
Jocelyn watched the doctor leave and then stared down at her tightly clenched hands and tried to think, to plan her next step. She couldn’t. Her thoughts kept getting sucked down into the maelstrom of emotions swirling through her. Finally she just gave up and stared blankly at the beige wall. All she could do was to endure and wait for the operation to be over.
Despite the kindness of the workers in the emergency room, who kept bringing her cups of coffee and offering hearty words of encouragement that rang false to Jocelyn’s ears, the wait seemed interminable.
Finally, when Jocelyn had about reached the end of her tether, the doctor strode through the doorway. His wide grin told her everything she wanted to know.
Relief washed over her in waves. A high-pitched buzzing filled her ears. Jocelyn shook her head to try to clear the sound, and the movement snapped her link with consciousness. A dark gray fog closed over her, carrying her into a blissful silence.
She came to a few minutes later to find herself lying on the sofa she had been sitting on, a worried-looking doctor bending over her. For a fraction of a second she was confused, and then she remembered.
“He’s okay?” she demanded.
“completely out of danger. I stopped the bleeding, and as far as I can tell there was no damage.”
“As far as you can tell?” Jocelyn repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it says. I saw nothing to indicate that he will have any lasting effects of his accident. I’ve spoken to the social worker here at the hospital. She’s checked you into one of the rooms we keep available for the relatives of patients in intensive care. And the policeman brought your suitcases from your wrecked car and your purse, which you apparently left behind. They’ve been put in the room.”
“Thank you, when can I see my…husband?” the word sounded odd on her lips. Odd and yet strangely right.
“He’s in recovery at the moment. He should be out in an hour if he continues to make such good progress. Why don’t you go to your room and lie down. I promise I’ll get you the minute we move him down to the ward. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jocelyn said, willing to agree to anything which would allow her to see her beloved Lucas.
Chapter Two
“Doctor Edwards asked that you see him before you visited your husband this morning,” the nurse told Jocelyn when she reached the nurses’ station of the surgical ward.
Jocelyn felt her skin blanch with sudden fear. What had happened? Even though Lucas hadn’t yet regained consciousness, the nurses had been very pleased with his vital signs when she’d left him late last night.
Lucas didn’t…” Jocelyn couldn’t bring herself to complete the sentence.
“No, of course not,” the nurse hurriedly reassured her. He’s coming along nicely. Amazingly well, in fact, considering what he’s been through. It’s just that…
Oh, good, there’s Dr. Edwards now.” The nurse broke off in evident relief as she caught sight of the doctor hurrying down the hall toward them.
Jocelyn turned, waiting nervously for the doctor to reach her. If Lucas hadn’t suffered a relapse, the only reason she could think of that the doctor would insist on seeing her would be if the hospital had somehow found out that Lucas and she weren’t married. That she had lied to them.
Which would explain the doctor’s impatience to see her. He was probably worried about the hospital’s liability for having operated on Lucas without proper authorization.
Jocelyn braced her thin shoulders and prepared to face the doctor’s wrath. But even knowing that what she’d done was technically wrong, she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Lucas had gotten the help he’d needed when he’d needed it. Not when some bureaucrat had decided it was legally safe to treat him.
“Mrs. Forester.” Dr. Edwards’s greeting caught her off guard. If he’d found out that she wasn’t Lucas’s wife, why was he still calling her that? And if he hadn’t found out, then why was it so urgent he speak to her? Unless the nurse had lied about Lucas being okay? Sudden panic gripped her, and she took an involuntary step toward the doctor.
“Lucas is fine.” The doctor had no trouble reading her expressive face. “Physically, I’m very impressed with how well he’s responding.”
“But?”
