One More Dance by Roxanne Rustand (best ebook reader for pc txt) 📗

Tom added, “But there’s a lot I don’t know about what Jared is handling now.”

“Me, too. The free clinic is a wonderful concept. There’s such need in this county, and it’s great that he wants to help. But, well...”

“We’ve gotten a few anonymous, threatening calls here at the office, and I know you’ve had some, too.” Tom cleared his throat. “I think he’s taking on some difficult adversaries.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She shuddered, thinking about the hours she spent on near-deserted roads, going out on farm calls alone. The relative isolation of her own clinic and the house...and the fact that Jared was alone in that free legal clinic into the wee hours of the night.

“The sheriff said he was going over there in the morning to check the appointment book.”

Kate swallowed hard. “That woman was probably just a client.”

“Of course—of course she was, Kate. Maybe she was a spousal abuse case who walked in off the street and needed a ride to the women’s shelter.”

But the likelihood of that, with the accident so far south of town, was slim, and they both knew it.

Tom and Jared had been partners since graduation from law school, and he knew about the marriage problems Jared and Kate had been through. His reassurances were those of an old, close friend, but she could hear the overly positive note in his voice.

“The thing now is to just get through this surgery and the recovery,” he added gently. “Right?”

“Absolutely. Everything else can be resolved later.” Kate sent up another brief prayer, begging for that to be possible. “I—I’ll call you whenever I hear anything more.”

“Day or night, honey. Neta and I will be by the phone.”

Kate ended the call and dropped her cell into her pocket as a wave of loneliness and sorrow threatened to buckle her knees, She sank into a nearby chair, wishing someone would walk through the surgical suite doors right now and make the world settle back onto its axis and—

She blinked at the gaunt apparition sitting stiffly in the farthest, shadowed corner of the waiting room. “Sylvia. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Sylvia sniffed. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

Though the woman had clearly taken the farthest possible seat on purpose, Kate moved across the room to sit opposite her, scooted a chair closer and reached out to take Sylvia’s cold, bony hands between her own.

The woman had always been New-York-model thin, but as she aged, it hadn’t served her well. Her skin held a yellowed, waxy pallor and the dark circles under her eyes emphasized her deeply lined face. “You must be absolutely exhausted.”

“There was no question, of course. I had to get here. The nurse in the ER said she’d notify surgery that I’d arrived and send someone out with a report. Have you seen anyone?”

“Not for more than an hour. But the last report...” Kate hesitated over just how much to say. “Well, it wasn’t very promising. Jared is strong and healthy, and he’s a fighter. But his injuries are serious.”

Sylvia pulled her hands away and lifted her chin. “He’ll make it. The Mathers’ don’t give in.”

“I’m praying that’s true,” Kate said gently. Twenty years of marriage to Jared had never brought companionship, not even acceptance, from his mother, and Kate didn’t expect it now. But she knew the stony expression in the woman’s eyes hid a great deal of pain that Sylvia had never shared. “He has a lot of people to live for—people who love him. I have to think that it will make a difference.”

“Love?” Sylvia’s voice sounded like the crack of a whip in the tomblike silence of the hospital. “Don’t crow too loudly, my dear. If he loved you so very much, why would he have been driven into the arms of someone else?”

Kate jerked back in her chair, stunned.

“I heard your conversation when I walked in. You might’ve snared him all those years ago, but it was wrong then, and it’s still wrong.” Stress and exhaustion and years of simmering dislike seemed to take hold of her, and Sylvia leaned forward, her hands clamped on the arms of her chair and her voice rising. “My son wouldn’t be on that surgery table if not for you.”

Her thinking was beyond illogical, but there was no point in arguing. Kate silently withdrew to another seat several chairs away.

“You know it’s true,” Sylvia added in a low, vicious tone. “All the hopes and dreams he had, his bright future, were lost when he was too young to even realize what he was giving up.”

The kernel of truth in her words helped Kate bite her tongue when she wanted to refute every word, but none of this was new. Critical, cold and relentless, Sylvia had found endless ways to drive home subtle barbs over the years about their marriage. Her advancing age had only sharpened her tongue...but she’d always been crafty enough to guard what she said within her son’s hearing.

At the sound of rattling wheels—gurney wheels?—Kate shot to her feet, a hand over her heart.

A cleaning woman wearily trudged down the hall, pushing a cart of supplies.

Five endless minutes later, the double doors to surgery swung open, bathing the hall in blinding light. The surgeon stepped forward, his face haggard beneath his five o’clock shadow, the surgical mask hanging in front of his neck.

Kate’s heart skipped a beat, stumbled, then started pounding as her anxiety grew. He seemed to be walking toward her in ultraslow motion, while she couldn’t will herself to move a single step toward the news that might change her life forever.

Then time stopped as numbness swept through her. “Is he... Is he...”

The words couldn’t get past the lump in her throat.

Dr. Jacobs reached out to take her hand. “Honestly, I had my doubts, but he’s still with us. He coded again, and we had trouble bringing him back. The next twenty-four hours are going to be critical.”

She swallowed hard, dimly aware that Sylvia had come to stand next to her, her