Married in Haste. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ warred with her abject sorrow.

      Ben wedged himself past the Episcopal priest. Murmuring softly, he reached for her.

      “Ben! Oh, Ben.” She threw herself into his arms. “The bo…ys,” she cried. “How will I ever break this terrible news? I know what it’s like to lose both parents. They’re so much younger than Elliot and I were when our parents died.” Her voice became hysterical at the end. “How did you know to come here? Did Raina contact you?”

      Tightening his hold, Ben rocked Abby from side to side. What he didn’t say—couldn’t bring himself to say—was that he’d have to impart the same unbelievable news to his nieces. Their mother was dead. Even though his own heart had shattered, Ben couldn’t tell her about Marlo, which would only add to Abby’s crushing grief.

      But neither could he lie and say he’d come solely to comfort her. When the police had contacted Ben about finding Marlo’s car under a broken pillar at the viaduct, his chief of staff ordered him off duty. At first he’d planned to phone his father—which was how Kirk would handle notification were the shoe on the other foot. But when Ben attempted to call him, he learned that his dad had scrubbed for Sam Drummond’s surgery. He was also told about Sam’s folks. The decision to drive to Mercy General was Ben’s.

      Devastated, he’d guessed correctly that Abby would be doubly so. As strong a woman as she was, Ben knew instinctively that it’d be like reopening old wounds, like reliving her parents’ accident. Feeling Abby shake in his arms, Ben didn’t regret his spur-of-the-moment decision to make the harrowing journey between the hospitals.

      The priest’s pager went off. “Sorry, I’m needed elsewhere,” he murmured, lightly nudging Ben’s arm. “Sir, may I leave Ms. Drummond in your care?”

      Ben’s answer was to tighten his arms around the still-crying woman.

      “Uh, if I can be of any further assistance, please leave word at the front desk. They can usually find me. Today,” the priest said with a sigh, “it may take longer. Ms. Drummond, I hope you will one day take comfort in the fact your brother and his wife are reunited with their parents and their Creator.”

      Unable to speak, Abby buried her face in Ben’s shirtfront.

      “Thank you.” Ben shook the priest’s hand from an awkward angle. “I’m Dr. Ben Galloway, by the way. I practice mainly at Children’s Health. Abby and I both live in West Seattle. Mercy was the closest triage hospital to the accident.”

      “I understand. Good luck to you both.” He shook his head. “As prepared as everyone thought we were after the big quake four years ago, this one caught us flatfooted. It’s more important than ever for us to get in step with God’s larger plan. He expects those of us left behind to carry on his work. Remember he’s a merciful God.” Giving Abby’s arm a last pat, the priest exited the chapel.

      Abby stirred. She hated to leave the shelter of Ben’s arms. But the priest’s parting words rankled. “Elliot said almost that exact same thing to me at Mom and Dad’s funeral.”

      She eased away from Ben, rubbing her upper arms. “His belief was a bone of contention between us for years. Now—” Abby faced Ben with wet eyes and trembling lips “—it’s as if Elliot’s sent a message back to me from…you know…” Shuddering, she eyed the cross, then glanced quickly away. “Perhaps Elliot’s right and I’m wrong.”

      “Like hell, Abigail!” Uncaring that he was in a place of worship, Ben punched a fist into the air. “You, not God, will look Elliot’s kids in the eye tonight. It’s you who’ll wipe their tears, chase away their nightmares and stumble around trying to find a way to explain their incomprehensible loss. Whose merciful plan is that?”

      In all the time she’d known him, Abby had never seen Ben get so worked up. She pulled her jacket tighter, and considered the bleak truth of his statement. As always when faced with hard facts, Abby dug deep for a resolve that had never failed her yet in times of need. “Then…if I’m all those poor kids have to hang on to, Ben, I’d better pull myself together. I—uh—thank you for providing a shoulder to cry on. But I’d better let you go. I’m sure you’re needed elsewhere, by other injured children.”

      Ben saw determination replace the gut-wrenching pain in Abby’s tear-drenched eyes. Hopelessly in need of courage himself, he closed the gap between them and cupped her pale face. The freckles he loved were never more pronounced than now. He kissed the ones scattered across the bridge of her nose. Then he let his thumbs trace the blue shadows beneath her lower lashes. “I wish we had more time to spend together today. But…” He hauled in a deep, shuddering breath. “I need a word with Kirk…uh, my father, before I go back to my trauma unit. You’ll want to see him, too, about your nephew.”

      Abby curled her fingers around Ben’s solid wrist. Something she’d found immensely attractive about Ben from the outset—his masculine hands. Some doctors had effeminate hands, she’d noticed. Not Ben Galloway. She could as easily see him paddling a kayak in an open sea, or tossing a log on a burning campfire. Yet his touch was gentle the few times she’d seen him cradle a baby or wipe away an older sibling’s tears.

      “I’ll never be able to express how much it means to me that you were here when I most needed someone, Ben. In a way, you were an answer to my prayer.”

      “Don’t.” He dropped his hands away from her face. “We can talk later. For now, it’s enough to know we’re both okay.”

      “Right. I need to see how Sam is. I can’t believe I forgot to ask what kind of surgery he’s having. He’s so little. Oh, Ben! None of this seems real. I know it’ll all crash in on me when I least expect it. Right now, I feel as if I’m operating in a fog.”

      He placed his hand on her back, and guided Abby out of the dim chapel. “I know where my father is operating. There’s a small waiting room in the wing. If you’ll take a seat, I’ll go see what I can find out for you.”

      “Please.” Abby might have said more, but her throat tightened again.

      As it turned out, Ben’s father had just stepped out of the surgery theater, a nurse informed Ben when he inquired. They spotted the elder Galloway, his surgical mask still dangling around his neck. He walked soundlessly toward them on blue booties. Impassive gray eyes surveyed his son. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? Aren’t you the one who insists they work your butt off in munch-kin land?”

      “I know nothing’s quite as important or glamorous as what you do with bones,” Ben said edgily. “Rather than argue, let me introduce Abby Drummond. She’s the aunt of the boy you had in surgery.”

      “Have in surgery. We’re at the halfway mark. My assistant is setting some of the minor bones.” The doctor’s demeanor changed abruptly as he paused to study Abby. Which was only fair, as she also assessed him. Any similarity between him and his son ended with the comparable height and breadth of their shoulders. What struck Abby about Kirk Galloway was that he seemed to be a man attempting to recapture his youth. His tan was far too dark, both his hair and mustache shouted salon blond.

      “Ms. Drummond.” He clasped Abby’s hand between soft, perfectly groomed fingers. His professional charm clicked in automatically. “You’re lucky, my dear, that Benjamin phoned me. I assume he’s told you I handle only the most difficult cases. After surgery I’ll give you a rundown on the new technique I’m using on Sam. It’s one I developed while on tour in Vienna last year.”

      Realizing he hadn’t released СКАЧАТЬ