Panic consumed him. He’d seen this scene before. A street. People rushing to the scene. A pool of blood. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
And then he could. He was a doctor. If anyone was in trouble he could help. Because life was about everyone helping everyone else.
He’d heard the words from his cradle, from a mother who was older than all the other mothers, and so much wiser.
A mother who’d imparted her wisdom to her baby before he’d been old enough to form the words that would let her know that he was taking it all in. Every single word.
Into his mind and his heart. Into his soul.
With more strength than any one man could possibly have, Max tore up the street and pushed through the moving crowd to the front of the pack. He had to assess the situation to know how to help.
Breaking through the front edge of rushing people, he was only a couple of yards away from their target when he saw her.
A stumbling, bruised and bleeding woman. Arms outstretched.
Calling his name.
* * *
THE SKY WAS black as night as Max paced outside the private exam room where they’d taken Meri as soon as they’d reached the hospital.
He’d done what he could for her on the ride over in the ambulance, started an IV, ordered blood, patched up the worst of her wounds, splinted fingers that were obviously broken. But he’d had no way of knowing what other bones were broken, or what internal damage had been done.
And she couldn’t tell him.
The second she’d run into his arms out on the street two hours before, she’d passed out and hadn’t regained consciousness.
“Her pulse was good.”
Coming up behind him, Chantel offered the cup of coffee she’d gone to collect.
“That’s right.”
“She’s young and she’s got good reason to live.”
He’d told her that, too. And he nodded.
“She’s not going to die, Max, you know that,” Chantel said now, giving him a sideways look as she joined him as he paced the hallway. To and fro. To and fro. “She got herself to you, though after seeing the scene, God knows how. But she did. She came to find you. You were calling to her. She has plenty to live for.”
Chantel was a beautiful woman. And a good friend. “You do, too, Chantel. What you did for me. You’re... I... We owe you.”
“Is that an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked him with a smile that wasn’t at all sad.
“I think it was.”
“Then I accept. I’m looking forward to getting to know this woman who inspired such faith in you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that.
“It amazes me, you know? How much you believed in her. You just knew....”
Shrugging, he said the only thing that came to his mind. “I guess that’s what love does to you.”
“Yeah, well, watching you...I think that I never knew what love was before. I’ve never felt like that...so sure....”
“Your time will come. If you let it....”
She started to say something, but didn’t get a chance.