Where There's Smoke
The sight of blood had never bothered him. He’d seen ghastly war injuries, men whose flesh was melting off their skeletons following oil well fires, even the severed head of a Moslem woman caught in adultery. He’d thought he had a cast-iron stomach where violence was concerned, that nothing could make him queasy.
He was wrong. This blood bothered him tremendously. He ran his hand down his face and looked away from the sink.
“I examined the expulsion,” Lara said as though reading his mind. “She miscarried the embryo.”
He nodded.
“Where are her parents?”
“They took the younger kids to Astroworld today,” he answered mechanically as he watched Lara peel off her surgical gloves. “Helen wasn’t feeling well and begged off. It’s a good thing, too. She hadn’t told them about the baby yet. Imagine if this hadn’t happened at home, in bed. Jesus,” he added grimly, “it doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Besides, the fewer people who know about this, the better, right? Especially for you. Look at it this way, you’re off the hook now.”
Although it took all the willpower he possessed, he let the insult pass.
When the sink was full, she turned off the faucet. “I’ve given Helen an injection to retard the bleeding and a sedative to help her sleep. In the morning she can come to the clinic and I’ll do a D and C.”
“Good. Her folks aren’t supposed to be back until late tomorrow night.”
“By then she’ll be home, although I recommend a few days of bed rest. She can tell them she’s got a severe case of cramps, which, unfortunately, is true.” After a significant pause, she added, “I also highly recommend that sexual intercourse be suspended for several weeks. You’ll have to take your fun with someone else.”
His eyes homed in on hers. Matching her scorn measure for measure, he said, “Any suggestions?”
They didn’t break eye contact until the dogs set up another howl. A car door slammed. There were running footsteps on the porch.
“Helen?”
Key moved around Lara and went through to the living room. Jimmy Bradley was standing there, frantically glancing around.
“Key?” he exclaimed. ?
?What are you doing here? Me and some of the guys went to Longview to knock around tonight. When I got home my brother said you’d called. Said for me to haul ass over here. What’s happened? Where is everybody? Where’s Helen?”
“She’s in her bedroom.”
Jimmy noticed Lara, who had just entered the room, gave her a puzzled glance, then cut his eyes back to Key. “What’s going on?”
“This is Dr. Mallory.”
“A doctor? For Helen?” he asked with mounting alarm.
Key laid a hand on the young man’s broad shoulder. “She had a miscarriage tonight, Jimmy.”
“A mis—?” He gulped hard, darted another look at Lara, then at Key. “Jesus.” He broke away from Key, ran down the hall, and burst into the bedroom. “Helen?”
“Jimmy? Oh, Jimmy! I’m sorry!”
Key looked at Lara. She was staring at him, whey-faced, her lips parted in surprise. “I hate to disappoint you,” he said dryly, “but the baby wasn’t mine. Helen came to me for help because she knew she could trust me.”
He allowed himself only a moment of self-righteous indignation before turning abruptly and following Jimmy to the bedroom. Jimmy was seated on the edge of the bed, clutching Helen to him, running his hands over her back and shoulders. Both were crying.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Helen? Why?”
“Because I was afraid you’d give up your scholarship. I didn’t want you to be stuck with me and a baby.”
“Honey, as long as I can carry a damn football, I can go to school. That college doesn’t care if I’ve got three wives and six kids. You should have told me. You went through hell all by yourself.”
“Key helped.” She sniffed. “I knew how much you respected him, so, when I didn’t know where else to turn or what to do, I asked him for advice. He begged me to tell you, but he also promised to keep my secret.”