A Father For Bella. Jill Weatherholt
into her pocket and grabbed her phone to call for help.
“Black Bear Inn, can I help you?” Thankful Mrs. Watson answered on the first ring, Faith struggled to catch her breath.
“Mrs. Watson—it’s Faith. There’s been an accident up on Matterhorn at marker five. Can you call Doug? He and Jerry will need to bring the stretcher. And please, hurry. Mr. Carlson is unconscious.”
Faith ended the call and stuffed her cell into her pocket. She reached toward Joshua and carefully removed his goggles, not wanting to move him the slightest bit. “Can you hear me?” His eyes remained closed.
Within minutes, the rumble of the approaching snowmobile echoed up the slope. “Hang on, help is coming.”
She rubbed her wet glove across her forehead. Why had she allowed him to come without seeing his ability as a skier, first? She’d been out with the others in the group and knew they were qualified to ski a challenging run. She held her breath as Doug and Jerry gently lifted Joshua and placed him on the stretcher.
Thirty minutes later, she was pacing the floor at Valley Memorial Hospital. The fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead, triggering her memory. She had to get out of here. And fast. Beads of perspiration surfaced on her forehead. She took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced. Everything about this place made her stomach queasy.
“Faith!”
She turned and spotted Mrs. Watson racing down the hall. For a sixty-eight-year-old woman, she was in great shape.
“I got here as fast as I could. How’s Mr. Carlson?”
Amazingly, she wasn’t even out of breath. “He’s with the doctor now. They’re doing a CT scan.” Faith had been relieved once Doug and Jerry got Joshua to the bottom of the slope and the ambulance had been waiting. “He regained consciousness on the way here. Hopefully he’ll be okay.”
Mrs. Watson pulled off her coat and flung it on a nearby chair. “So what happened?”
All the way to the hospital, Faith had recalled the last few minutes on the trail. “I’m not sure. One minute he was skiing like a professional, and then he went down. He must have hit some ice.”
“Well, thank God you were with him. What if he’d been up there by himself?”
Faith had the exact thought. That trail didn’t get as much use as the intermediate and beginner’s slopes. Who knows how long he could have lain up there? She shook off the negative thought.
The two women paced the floor for the next thirty minutes. They both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Hello, Faith, Mrs. Watson.” The tall, slender red-haired man smiled before slipping his wire-framed glasses on.
“Hello, Dr. Maxwell,” they responded in unison.
He extended his hand to Faith. His grip was firm. “I understand Mr. Carlson is a guest at your inn.”
“That’s correct. He checked in with us yesterday. Is he going to be okay?” It had been four years since she’d been in this hospital. Her knees weakened. The sooner she could get out of here the better.
“He’s regained consciousness and gave us his father’s number, but we weren’t able to reach him. Mr. Carlson said it was okay if we talk with you about his condition, since his father probably wouldn’t call back.”
Faith lifted an eyebrow. Odd. What kind of father wouldn’t return a phone call concerning his injured son?
The doctor skimmed the papers on his clipboard. “He’s very fortunate he didn’t sustain any broken bones. He’s got a mild concussion and will need to be monitored closely for a day or two.”
“Oh, no problem whatsoever, Doctor. Faith and I can take care of him.”
What? Why was Mrs. Watson so quick to volunteer her services? If she wanted to care for him, fine, but there was no way Faith would play nurse. She had enough on her plate. “Uh...can’t he stay here? Things are really hectic right now.” Her world was about to turn upside down if she didn’t figure out a plan to place a bid on the inn. She couldn’t lose it...it was all the security she and Bella had in their life.
Mrs. Watson stepped forward. “Nonsense, Faith. With your medical background, we can handle the inn and Mr. Carlson. After all, it’s the least we can do for a guest who’s planning such a long stay.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. With four years of medical school under your belt, you’re more than qualified,” Dr. Maxwell said. “Besides, he’s contributing to our local economy and it’s important we give special attention to our out-of-town visitors. We want to keep them coming back, don’t we?”
What was happening here? Faith raked her fingers through the back of her thick hair. Yes, she had completed medical school. She’d just begun her residency when her entire world collapsed around her. Medicine was part of her past—and exactly where it would stay.
The overhead intercom filled the hall with static, paging Dr. Maxwell. “I have to get going. I’ll keep Mr. Carlson overnight for observation, but you can pick him up tomorrow afternoon.”
Faith didn’t remember agreeing to this, but what else could she do? She released a heavy breath. She’d been overruled. “We’ll be here.”
She wasn’t doing this on her own. Mrs. Watson seemed anxious to volunteer, so she would be the one to care for him. Faith had no intention of utilizing her medical background—ever. How could she? The memories were too haunting.
The following afternoon at the inn, Joshua burrowed his throbbing head back into a mound of oversize down pillows. “This really isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine. Besides, the doctor said it was only a mild concussion. He did release me, you know?”
“It’s not ‘only.’ A concussion of any degree shouldn’t be ignored.”
He eyed Faith, wondering how she’d ended up with the short straw. Judging from her stiff posture and stony expression, playing babysitter wasn’t something she wanted any part of. “So how did you get stuck with me?” He’d rather have stayed at the hospital than be cared for by the woman whose life he was going to turn upside down.
“You were fortunate. Head injuries aren’t something to take lightly. Like it or not, we’re stuck with each other for the next forty-eight hours. Mrs. Watson is supposed to help, but she’s had some sort of emergency in the kitchen.” She turned toward the plantation shutters, closing both.
“I just took a little tumble.” He knew God had been watching over him yesterday, and for that he was thankful. He’d skied long enough to know the risks involved. Years ago, a good friend from college was left paralyzed following a skiing accident. “This all seems like a little too much, don’t you think?”
“Actually...no.” She picked up a pitcher of water sitting on the dresser and poured him half a glass. “You need to let me know if you develop a headache or if you experience any dizziness or blurred vision.” Faith placed the water on the nightstand.
“How did you become such an expert on concussions? Is it part of some training you had to take to work here?”
She fidgeted with the gold chain around her neck. “Something like that.”
Boy, he’d been around some tight-lipped people before, but hers were cemented shut. It was obvious his questions were making her uncomfortable, but why? “Can you please hand me my laptop? It’s over there on the desk.”
Faith firmly planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t use your computer for the next two days.”
This was outrageous. He wasn’t going to put his life on hold because of a slight bump on the head. He had too much work to do to