to the far end of the hall, into a darkened bedroom. She turned on the bedside lamp and climbed onto the bed. Silently she waited while Gray laid Lauren beside her.
“Dr. Bill’s number is by the phone in the kitchen,” she said quietly, never taking her eyes from the still form next to her.
“I’ll go call, then.”
Sarah didn’t answer or even look up. She caressed Lauren’s cheek with small, trembling fingers.
Gray forced the haunting image from his mind as he retraced his steps down the hall until he found the dining room. He skirted the already-set table and passed through an open doorway into the kitchen. After locating the phone, he punched in the posted number for Dr. Bill Prescott. Gray didn’t recognize the name, obviously another newcomer to Thatcher.
Gray inhaled the mouthwatering aroma that filled the kitchen. His stomach rumbled. How long had it been since he’d had a home-cooked meal? Too long to remember, he thought with uncharacteristic longing.
While he listened to the receptionist’s greeting, Gray turned the oven off. Whatever Lauren Whitmore had on tonight’s menu would have to wait. He noticed the open medicine bottle by the sink and picked it up to read the label.
Gray gave the receptionist a quick summary of what had taken place. After a brief wait on hold, a man answered and identified himself as the doctor.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Prescott ordered, concern in his voice.
“One minute we were talking and the next she was out like a light.” Gray rotated the bottle in his hand to verify the name when the doctor asked about medication. “Yes, the open bottle was next to the sink, but I have no idea if she took a tablet.”
“This is the first episode Lauren has had in quite some time,” Prescott said, and then hesitated as if considering the best course of action. “She’ll sleep for several hours. When she wakes up she’ll be weak, and the pain will likely come again. Just keep her comfortable and have her call me as soon as she’s up and around again. I can come by tonight if she needs me.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s wrong with her?” Gray ventured, and then quickly added, “I haven’t known her very long.”
There was a long pause before Prescott responded. “She has cluster headaches,” he finally explained. “They’re similar to migraines, but the cluster effect makes them more intense. She doesn’t have them often anymore, but when they strike they’re debilitating. It’s not as bad as it sounds, Mr…. what did you say your name was?”
“Longwalker. Gray Longwalker.”
“Mr. Longwalker, Lauren’s headaches appear to be mainly related to stress. As long as she stays clear of any major stress she doesn’t have any problems. I have no idea of your relationship with Lauren, but I sincerely hope you won’t let this incident color your opinion of her. Lauren’s a terrific young woman. Obviously, though, there’s something stressful going on in her life right now.”
Gray assured the doctor he would have Lauren call him. He pushed the off button and placed the cordless receiver back in its cradle. He swallowed hard as he considered Dr. Prescott’s words.
Stress.
He had done this to Lauren Whitmore. Gray shook off the regret and forced away the guilt. The woman had chosen to come between him and his child. She had, in effect, brought this particular stress upon herself, he rationalized, but it didn’t relieve the guilt nagging at him.
When Gray returned to the bedroom, Sarah sat in the exact same place he had left her, still stroking Lauren’s cheek. Gray eased down on the edge of the bed feeling sorely out of place in the role of caretaker to anyone but himself.
“Is my mommy gonna be okay?” She looked up at Gray with a worried gaze that squeezed his heart.
“Yes.” He smiled and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “She’ll sleep for a while, but the doctor says she’s going to be fine.” He quashed the renewed rush of guilt that crowded his chest.
“Good.” Sarah frowned then, her whole face puckered in the process. “I don’t want my new mommy to go to Heaven like my old mommy did.”
Gray swallowed back the emotion that pushed up into his throat. He’d never in his life been an emotional man. He didn’t quite understand his reaction. Maybe he was tired from the trip and all the anger he had felt at life these past two days.
“Don’t worry, Sarah. She’ll be fine.”
“You promise?” She stared up at him, tears brimming.
“I promise,” he said, his voice strained, almost harsh.
Gray had wished for many things since he had learned of his child’s existence, not the least of which was the blackest curse he knew to fall upon the person’s head responsible for trying to keep his child from him.
Right now, though, he prayed with his entire being that Lauren Whitmore would be okay.
For Sarah’s sake.
LAUREN DRIFTED somewhere between asleep and awake well before her eyes would obey the command to open. Wherever she was, darkness surrounded her. No glimmer of light shone through her closed lids. She could hear something…the sound vaguely familiar.
She tried to reach out, to feel and maybe identify her surroundings despite the darkness, but her arms were so heavy that she couldn’t move. Her head hurt.
The sound was louder now.
Water.
Water was filling the car. Lauren was trapped. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…
Fear crowded her throat and robbed her of rational thought. She struggled against the seat belt, but couldn’t quite free herself. The water continued to rise around her.
Air…she needed air.
Hold your breath, Lauren, hold your breath. Kevin… She reached for him…
Lauren sat straight up in bed, gasping for air.
A dream. It was only a dream, she realized. The accident was a long time ago. It was over now. She was safe.
Weak as a kitten she cradled her head in her hands and willed the lingering remnants of pain to retreat. She massaged her forehead and then pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples in an effort to keep the raging beast at bay.
Slowly, very slowly, the perception of time and place returned.
She was home. And she was okay.
Just a headache and a nightmare. It had been a long time since she’d had either. Not since Sharon’s death.
She should get up and check on Sarah….
The memory of what had taken place just prior to her blackout slammed into Lauren’s head. She threw back the coverlet, dropped her feet to the floor and forced herself to stand. A wave of nausea washed over her when she took a step, but she ignored it and forced another step and then another after that.
She
