Her hands trembled as she adjusted her body, using his shoulder for support as she got into position. Court’s actions indicated his extreme concern for Neetie. “I found more liquid pain-reliever. I’m going to give him a dose.”
“Good.” Court slowed while she administered the liquid then he stepped on the gas.
* * *
Four hours later, after pushing the old truck for all it was worth on a muddy, rutted road, Court pulled into the hospital compound. He would’ve never have thought he’d be so grateful to see the simple building. He couldn’t remember being this scared since his brother had died. The last few hours had taken their toll on his emotions. Despite all his knowledge of modern medicine he still couldn’t make Neetie well. Like his parents hadn’t been able to fix his brother’s problems. There was no special machinery, no advanced medicines, no IVs, no oxygen, no…
He’d watched the boy’s health slip out of his control, with no way of gaining it back unless he got Neetie to a secondary hospital in time. He also had Maggie to worry about. She didn’t say it, wouldn’t voice it, but she was frightened. It was killing him not be able to reassure her more.
Maggie cared for Neetie continuously but Court knew she was having a difficult time holding it together. The best he could do was to keep her from becoming more alarmed than she already was. Since when had he concerned himself with someone else’s fear or worries, or emotional well-being? When had Maggie slipped under that super-max prison fence surrounding his emotions to affect him so?
She’d not kept up the constant chatter she’d promised but she’d occasionally asked if he was all right. A few times she’d touched his shoulder, and once when the rain had been beating down on them hard she’d squeezed his shoulder after he’d expressed his frustration. Those few actions helped him keep his sanity. He liked having someone show concern for him, particularly Maggie. He was used to being invisible even to his parents.
He’d only been able to glance at Maggie once in a while as he’d navigated the big lumbering truck in the dark, wet night. Her gentle crying had barely registered over the rain. She’d talked to Neetie, even though she’d gotten no response. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Court’s going to get you to the hospital.”
Court wished he had the same confidence she did. This time he might be available for a patient but it still might not save Neetie’s life. Heaven help him, Neetie had become more than a patient. The kid had gotten under his skin too, just like Maggie had.
When he’d seen the primitive hospital compound ahead, relief had coursed through him. He’d blown the horn and brought the truck to a rocking stop near the building’s doors. One of the orderlies had come running.
“Go get Dr. Roberts,” Court snapped, opening the door of the truck and reaching in for Nettie.
“Help Missy Maggie,” he called to the other orderly when Maggie had difficulty stepping out of the truck. She’d stayed on her knees, propped between the seats the entire time. Her muscles had to be nothing but knotted masses.
Court pushed his way through the hospital doors and into an examining room. Placing Neetie on a table, he said to the nurse, “I need a comp panel, def and CBC plus creatinine level. Stat.” The blood culture would have to wait until he got Neetie to Tema. Another facility lacking at the Teligu Hospital.
At a brush against his side, he found Maggie reaching to take Neetie’s arm. She said to Jill, “I’ll draw while you get an IV started.” Neetie gave an incoherent mumble as she placed the needle in his vein.
“As soon as you have the line in place, he needs a chest and abnormal X-ray,” Court stated, pulling his stethoscope from his bag, which the orderly had dropped beside him.
“What’s going on here?” Dr. Roberts barked.
Court gave report and stated, “I bet my plane that Neetie’s enzymes are sky high. I want to fly him to Tema for an MRI when he’s stable. If the damage to his liver is as extensive as I believe, he needs to go on to Boston for treatment.”
Dr. Roberts nodded his head in agreement. “Thank God you were here, otherwise we could do little for the boy.”
Nothing was going to stop Court from seeing this child received every medical chance available, which included Court at his side.
* * *
It was mid-afternoon before Maggie made it to her bungalow. She showered in the meager amount of warm water available in an effort to bring some life back into her cold body.
Neetie was dying. He was in the ward now, waiting for morning so Court could fly him to the coast. Unable to stand it any longer, she let go of the anguish she’d dammed behind a wall of self-control in order to do what needed to be done. In sharp gasps and heaving sobs she bent over as water poured over her back. Her child was dying. Official or not, he belonged to her.
* * *
“Maggie? Are you okay?” Court called. The painful sobbing on the other side of the thin door broke through the thick shell of uninvolvement he’d built around himself so many years ago he’d lost count of the number.
“Maggie?”
Why wouldn’t she answer? He cracked the door. “Maggie?”
There was a muffled noise he couldn’t make out in the water of the shower.
“Are you all right?”
Still he received no sensible answer.
“I’m coming in.”
He pushed the door open. No reaction from her. “Maggie, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”
A large gulping sob filled the tiny area.
He pushed back the curtain.
“Get out. Go away.”
His heart broke to see her doubled over in anguish.
“I’m not leaving you like this.”
Quickly removing his boots, he stepped under the water and pulled her to him. She shifted as if to pull away but he held her tight. Maggie needed to know someone was there to support her. He couldn’t be there forever but right now he could be.
She trembled in his arms but put up no further resistance to him being there. The action alone told him the depth of her fear. He pushed her sopping hair away from her face and kissed her forehead as he tried to absorb her misery. His hand cupped her head and held it against his chest. Minutes went by before Maggie limp against him as if all her restraint had disappeared. With a deep sob she wrapped her arms around him and clung as if he was her life force. Her tears mingled with the water.
He didn’t want someone to depend on him as Maggie was doing, but he couldn’t leave her. “Aw, Maggie, you have to stop. You’re killing me. He’s stable, conscious. You can’t continue like this. It’s not good for you.”
“I’m going too,” she said in halting breaths.
“I would’ve been surprised if you weren’t. I’ve spoken to Dr. Roberts about you going. He okayed it.”
“Thank you.” Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him.
He pulled away. “Maggie, don’t.” Court cupped her face. “You’re not thinking straight right now.”
She sobered. Leaning back, she caught his wrist as if she forgotten he’d been hurt. His hand was wrapped in a neat new bandage and he wore a surgical glove over it. “I’m sorry. I forgot all about your hand.”
“Don’t worry about it. Dr. Roberts looked at your work and pronounced it faultless.”
She kissed the skin on the inside of his wrist above the glove. He sucked in a breath. His tentative hold on his lust weakened very second he held the naked, water-slick Maggie in his arms. This good deed might kill him but he refused to take advantage of her drained emotional state.
“I couldn’t have gotten Neetie here without you.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said as he released his hold on her. “If you’re going to be all right now, I think I’d better let you finish your shower and go and get mine.”
“Don’t go.” She started pushing up his wet
T-shirt. “Just need to forget for a while.”
“Maggie, you don’t know what you are playing at.”