“I heard sounds coming from Gaia’s room. So I assume she’s awakened from her nap?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, the pain doesn’t allow her to sleep for long periods. The sounds you heard were my attempts to give her dinner. But she has no appetite. And very little strength. Her only joys were your visit, her bath, and a view of the mountains.”
“Then my idea should be perfect.” Artemis sounded exuberant, and I could hear her rustling around, getting a fresh chiton from the closet. “Why don’t we take Gaia for a stroll? The fresh air will do her a world of good. The mountains at twilight will be breathtaking.” A pause. “And it will be a wonderful final memory for her to carry with her to Mount Olympus.”
A walk. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Gaia loved nature, and she’d been deprived of it since she’d arrived. And Artemis was right. As goddess of the earth, Gaia deserved a beautiful final memory of this planet to take with her.
“Your idea is perfect,” I said to Artemis. “Gaia would love that. She even has a favorite garden out back. I’ll suggest this to her right away.”
“If she’s up for it, I can be ready in two minutes,” Artemis called back. “I’ll carry the wheelchair so you can carry Gaia. Once we’re outside, she can sit back and revel in nature.”
I was so eager to tell Gaia, I could scarcely contain myself. “I’ll be right back,” I promised Artemis. “That way, I can share Gaia’s response with you.”
“I promise to answer this time when you knock.”
Sloane heard him go, and released a huge sigh of relief. Now all she had to do was hope that Gaia’s desire to drink in the natural world one last time would supersede her physical weakness from the disease that was claiming her life.
By the time Sloane’s chiton was on and belted, and her hair was dry and brushed, Luke was back at her door.
“We’re ready,” he said as he knocked.
“As am I.” Sloane quickly palmed her cell phone.
He unlocked the door and beckoned for her to join him. “Gaia is elated,” he told her as they crossed the hall to her room. “I’m so glad you came up with this idea. She’s so weak she can hardly sit up on her own, and yet she’s smiling, eager to be pushed through the gardens, to breathe in the scent of the flowers. And it is a perfect twilight. Clear, warm, with a full moon to light our way.”
“It sounds as if it was meant to be.”
Transferring her cell phone to the wheelchair was easier than Sloane had expected. Luke was so preoccupied with lifting his mother, removing the IV bag so he could carry it downstairs and hook it onto the wheelchair, that he barely noticed Sloane. She dropped her cell phone into the seatback bag, folded the wheelchair, and hooked her arm around it to carry it downstairs.
Soon they were strolling through the gardens. Lillian interrupted to ask Sloane to push her wheelchair. Sloane was puzzled, but pleased to agree.
“Luke is exhausted,” Lillian explained, indicating the signs of fatigue etched on his face. “He’s done nothing but care for me for weeks on end. He won’t take a break unless he trusts whoever’s with me. I know he trusts you. Would you mind taking over for him just for this walk? It would do my heart good.”
“Of course not.” Sloane glanced at Luke to seek confirmation that the arrangement was okay with him.
His nod gave her permission, although he did pat his jacket pocket to remind her he had his pistol.
Sloane didn’t need a reminder.
With Luke sitting on a stone bench, scrutinizing them carefully, she had to be just as cautious as if he were walking beside them. Well, almost. At least this situation afforded her the benefits of distance and camouflage.
She wheeled Lillian through the lush garden the older woman loved most, then glided her wheelchair along the path, moving to a beautiful, serene spot. She angled the wheelchair so Lillian could smell the flowers, and simultaneously gaze at the mountains that surrounded them.
“Are you familiar with these mountains?” Lillian sounded half out of it, partially from the morphine and partially from the weakness. “They’re so majestic, tall, and green. Or snowcapped in the winter. I’ve always loved it here. It’s like being halfway to heaven.”
“You’re right. It is.” Sloane slid her fingers into the mesh compartment of the seatback bag, retrieved the phone, and flipped it open. Four and a half bars. It didn’t get much better than that.
Keeping her hands shielded from view by her body, she accessed the phone menu, entered Text Messaging, and went to her out-box. Then she selected the last message sent, clicked Options, scrolled down to Resend, and pressed OK.
The whole process took less than thirty seconds.
With such good reception, Sloane assumed the message would go through.
Or maybe it wasn’t an assumption. Maybe it was a prayer.
But whether or not she’d succeeded, she had to get rid of the phone before Luke found it. And the best way to do that would be to leave it on and leave it out here, where nobody would venture after this evening’s walk was over, and where the reception was ideal. Because once Derek realized the message was from her, he’d work with the cell-phone company to triangulate on the location of her cell phone.
She glanced behind her. Luke was leaning back on the bench, his right hand in his jacket pocket. His gaze kept shifting from Sloane and Lillian to the beauty of the sunset over the mountains.