This is Cowboy again. I’m coming in with another injury.” It had been a few months since they’d seen him, and he’d never been there in the daytime. Maybe today’s would be a different staff, and maybe this time the doc on duty wouldn’t give him the familiar three-hour sermon about being careful around wild animals.
He grimaced as the secretary questioned him. “Nope, no ambulance. I’ll do it myself.” He’d called an ambulance once—last year when the bison had kicked the paddock gate over on him. It had taken him longer to get to the hospital then than ever before or since.
He looked down to find more blood dripping from his thigh. “Can’t take the time to talk. Just be ready for me. My pet cat bit me. No rabies, so don’t even think about shots.” Leonardo was well vaccinated.
With a short grunt Cowboy hung up the phone and reached for his hat. The room started to go black on him, and he lowered his head. Must be losing more blood than I thought. Forget the hat. He picked up his keys from the kitchen table and flung one last, angry glance out the window toward the cage outside where Leonardo the lion paced from end to end. Let him go hungry if he was going to behave like this.
At this rate there would be blood all over Cowboy’s beautiful vintage Mustang. That cat had a lot to answer for.
Frankie stood up unsteadily from his perch at the un-curtained window. The sun had passed the tree line and now blasted through the bedroom with unrelenting force. Dust particles danced in the sunbeams, and Frankie stared at them for a moment, fascinated. The neighbor kids would want to see this. He’d have to show them the next time they came over….
No, he wasn’t planning to be here to show them. He was going to be with Doris by then.
He would be with Doris, wouldn’t he? She was dead and he’d be dead, in the ground.
His mind worked through that thought slowly. Doris had never believed she would just end up in the ground. She was sure she was going to heaven. He’d gotten sick of listening to her talk about heaven so much. But it sure had comforted him after she was gone.
Frankie’s hands felt numb. He wiggled his fingers and tried to shake the muzziness from his head, but it just made him dizzier. Man, oh, man, this drug is working fast.
Maybe he didn’t want it to work so fast. What about the kids next door? He hadn’t thought about them. What if this drug worked and he died, and those little kids found him?
He did not want that to happen.
Using all his strength to force his feet to move, he walk-stumbled from the bedroom toward the living room. He’d better try to reach that phone. He could call 9-1-1 and stop all this. Then, even if he died, the kids wouldn’t be the ones who found him.
Ivy Richmond sat on the chair closest to the front door and listened to the siren. Soon the ambulance would pull up outside. They’d take care of everything. She pressed her hands against her chest and tried to breathe slowly, as if that would help normalize the crazy rhythm of her heart. This was not a heart attack. She wouldn’t let it be.
So what was it? Stress? She could get philosophical about it and say she had a broken heart. It would be true. Her heart was breaking more and more every day, but she hadn’t expected to get so physical about it. She’d experienced grief before, but maybe it was different every time. Maybe it dug deeper each time until it finally destroyed either the mind or the body. Or maybe she was just being melodramatic. She needed to snap out of this.
The siren stopped as the ambulance pulled up outside. She could see the reflection of the lights against her living-room drapes. Time to let them in.
She stood up and opened the door just as they stepped up to knock.
“Mrs. Richmond?” It was the big guy she’d seen before.
She nodded and stepped back. “This way. She’s in the first bedroom.” She gestured down the hallway, and her hand shook.
The man stopped in front of her. “Are you okay?”
“I didn’t call for me,” she snapped. “It’s my mother. Cancer. Get her to the hospital!”
Frankie never realized how much effort it took just to walk. He could not concentrate long enough to form his steps. He finally leaned against the wall and pulled himself down the hallway that seemed to stretch for miles. If he could just get to the phone…
Doris would be so ashamed of him, trying to buy his way out of life like this. He couldn’t do it. He wanted her to be proud of him when they greeted each other again.
Would they ever see each other? What if she was right about heaven and hell?
He needed time to think about it. He had to reach that phone.
There it sat on the end table. Frankie teetered as he stepped away from the wall and reached forward. His foot caught on something, and he fell as if in slow motion.
Yes, he should have thought about this to begin with. He could crawl so much easier than he could walk. He inched across the remaining space on his elbows and knees and raised his hand toward the phone. He knocked off the receiver, and it fell next to him. He squinted at the face of the dial pad and realized he’d lost his glasses. He peered closer, fighting the heavy darkness that rushed in toward him like a hard wind. He hit the first button: nine. He found the one and poked it, then raised his finger to hit it again, but the black wind grabbed him.
The receiver slipped from his hand, and his head and shoulders slumped helplessly onto the carpet.
Chapter One
A delicate carpet of spring-green crept across the central Arkansas-Missouri border. The buds of serviceberry and dogwood had clothed their trees in pristine white just in time to welcome Dr. Lukas Bower to his new place of residence in Knolls, Missouri. He refused to call it home yet. After his most recent experiences in the job market, he couldn’t place his trust in these strangers. Nevertheless, nestled between patchwork properties of Mark Twain National Forest, this Ozark community of ten thousand promised to meet the needs of a country boy who loved the outdoors, especially hiking. When he had driven down from Kansas City to check out the area, the first order of business, before interviewing for the position of full-time emergency room physician, was to count the logging trails and off-road-vehicle paths that crisscrossed the forest. He’d even followed several of the trails in his Jeep. By the time he’d appeared for the interview with Mrs. Estelle Pinkley, the hospital administrator, he was sold on the place.
He was just finishing his usual morning repast of grease and eggs in the hospital cafeteria when the phone rang for him. He recognized the voice of an emergency room registered nurse.
“Dr. Bower, this is Beverly. We have a man by the name of Jacob Casey on his way here in his own car. He says he’s been bitten by his pet cat. He sounds pretty excited about it.”
Lukas frowned. “His cat bit him?”
“I gathered that the bite was pretty bad,” answered the RN.
“Rabies?”
“He specifically said there were no rabies. From the way he talked, the secretary thinks he’s been here before.”
“Okay, Beverly, I’ll be there shortly.
