Operation Baby Rescue. Beth Cornelison

Operation Baby Rescue - Beth Cornelison


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       Chapter 2

      Elise heard a buzzing in her ears, and her head swam. When her knees buckled, she groped futilely for something to brace against. As she stumbled back a step, she encountered the warm, solid wall of a chest, and a strong hand grasped her elbow, steadying her. The scent of sandalwood surrounded her, piercing her fog of shock. And she knew without looking who supported her.

      “Elise?” Jared’s deep voice rumbled near her ear.

      “I’m sorry.” Kim rushed forward, concern knitting her brow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to—”

      “No. I … I’m okay. I was just … caught off guard. Everything about losing Grace just flooded back and—” She swallowed hard and blinked at Kim as the truth the woman had shared sank in. “Your baby died at the hospital, too? I … Was she premature?”

      Kim shook her head. “Right on time. To the day. But she apparently had a heart defect that our doctor missed during my pregnancy.”

      An eerie prickle nipped her neck. “Her heart stopped, and they couldn’t resuscitate her,” she whispered raggedly.

      Kim blinked. “Yes. How did you—?” Her eyes widened. “You mean Grace—?”

      Elise’s voice stuck in her throat. The only sound she could make came out as a moan.

      Behind her, Jared muttered a curse. “That sounds too suspicious to be a coincidence. The odds …”

      “What hospital did you use?” Kim asked.

      Elise struggled for her composure, sucking in a calming breath. “My labor started while I was out of town at a crafts fair. I went to a little hospital in Pine Mill …”

      Kim frowned and shook her head. “No. We were at Crestview General.”

      Something like disappointment punctured the breath Elise had been holding. As tragic and macabre as the similarities in their losses were, hope had flickered briefly that she was on to some answers regarding Grace’s mysterious death.

      “So many times I’ve wondered if our baby would have made it if we’d been here in Lagniappe at St. Mary’s where they have the PICU,” Kim said.

      “What-ifs are natural,” Jared said quietly, “but you can make yourself crazy with them. Don’t torture yourself, Kim.”

      She lifted a corner of her mouth in acknowledgment. “Easier said than done.”

      “Ready to go?” Greg asked, stepping up behind his wife.

      “Sure.” Kim turned back to Elise. “See you next time?”

      Elise nodded and, still rather numb with shock, searched for her voice. “I—yeah. Bye.”

      As the Harrisons departed, Jared stepped around to face Elise and dipped his head to get a better look at her expression. “Are you okay?”

      Elise raked her blond hair back with her fingers. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I really don’t know what to make of this.”

      “It is pretty hard to believe. I mean, if this were 1811, maybe. But with modern health and medicine what it is, you’d think.” He stopped himself and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well … anyway.”

      “The doctors should have been able to save her. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?” Elise asked, meeting his gaze. Last week, she’d thought they’d reached an unspoken agreement to be candid with each other. His honesty about his grief had been at the heart of the connection she’d felt with him.

      He furrowed his brow with a guilty look. “Yeah. Something like that.”

      She sighed. “Tiptoeing around delicate topics is so tedious. Can we agree not to play that game? We both know it serves no purpose.”

      He gave her a nod and a relieved smile. “Agreed.”

      “In that case, yes. I’ve got plenty of questions about why the doctors and modern medicine didn’t save Grace. And now, in light of what Kim said about their baby dying the same way….” Elise lifted a trembling hand, flipping her palm up in frustration. “What am I supposed to make of that?”

      Jared didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced toward the kitchen area where Joleen was cleaning up the last of the refreshments. “Would you like to go somewhere? Get a cup of coffee?”

      “I—Don’t you need to get home? I’m sure babysitters are expensive.”

      “They can be. But my mom watches Isabel when I come here.” He paused and jingled the keys in his pocket. “I know Kim just dropped a bomb on you, and I don’t want you going home alone to stew and drive yourself crazy over the news.”

      Elise lifted a corner of her mouth. “That’s what I’d do. You’re right.”

      “I’d be happy to be your sounding board for a while.”

      When was the last time someone had offered to just listen to her, let her vent and unburden her heart? Too long. Gratitude for his thoughtfulness tugged in her chest.

      “I’d like that. How about Brewer’s Café? It’s just a couple blocks from here.”

      He gave a nod and a smile. “Meet you there in five.”

      Jared climbed behind his steering wheel and blew out a long, cleansing breath. What the hell was he doing? Hadn’t he just told his mother tonight that he wasn’t ready to date?

      “Okay, so this is not a date. Not,” he muttered to himself as he gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield into the church parking lot. Despite his denials, guilt thumped a drumbeat in his chest. “You’re just giving your support to another group member who had a shock tonight. It’s not a date.”

      So why were his palms damp with sweat, and why was his conscience pricking him with images of Kelly in the last days they spent together?

      Not a date. Not a date … He let the words repeat in his brain as he backed his car out of the parking space and pulled up behind Elise to follow her to Brewer’s Café.

      He recalled the look in Elise’s eyes when she’d learned how the Harrisons’ baby had died, and sympathy twisted inside him. No matter how conflicted he felt about meeting Elise for coffee, he wanted to be there for her tonight. Elise was in shock and needed a friend. He could be her friend without it meaning anything else, couldn’t he?

      Of course. He released a deep breath. It was not a date.

      “Tell me about Isabel,” Elise said after twenty minutes of small talk. She cradled her mug of cappuccino, which had grown cold, and met his startled look with an encouraging nod.

      “Are you sure? Doesn’t hearing other people talk about their kids hurt?”

      She sighed. “Of course it does. But am I supposed to avoid people with kids the rest of my life?”

      He took a slow deep breath. “No.”

      “Do you have a picture of her?”

      He chuckled, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “Seriously? You have to ask?”

      She returned his grin. “A long shot, I know, but …”

      He flipped open the wallet and turned it so she could see the bright-eyed cherub with blond curls. Elise’s breath caught, and it took a moment to recover. Like all babies, Isabel was precious, but something about her sweet smile and chubby cheeks grabbed Elise by the throat.

      “Wow,” she rasped when she found enough air to talk. “Look at those curls. Believe it or not, I had curls like that when I was younger.” She tugged on her straight hair and scoffed. “I’d kill for a few natural curls now.”

      “Those curls make for a pretty


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