Her hair was plastered to her skull and she tried to fluff the water from it on her way over to the visitor’s center, where the security desk was.
It’s fine, she told herself. Jess was at school. Maybe they’d cancelled the rest of the day. If so, he could stay home alone for a few hours. Before Adam had come into their lives, he used to stay home alone all day on Saturdays.
Everything’s fine.
One step through the door, and she knew everything was not fine. Bekka, who worked the security desk, wore a somber yet anxious look on her face and waved for Janey to hurry.
“What’s going on?” she asked from several paces away, her wet boots making squeaky noises on the tiled floor.
“Adam’s been in an accident. The police just called. They’re sending someone up to get you.”
Janey’s ears stopped working after the first sentence.
Adam’s been in an accident.
She’d heard those words before, but with a different name. Every fear she’d been ignoring, tamping back every time one of them tried to come forward and make her think too hard, surged to the front of her mind.
Bekka said something else, but Janey could only hear the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears.
See? His job is too dangerous.
See? You can’t guarantee that he’ll be around for very long.
See? You’re better off just trying to get Jess raised and on his own.
“Janey?”
She came back to herself when Bekka touched her hand. “Are you okay? Did you hear what I said?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. Surprisingly, no tears came. The numbness that had spread through her at the news of Matt’s death didn’t come.
Looking right at Bekka, she said, “Tell me again.”
“They’re sending someone up to get you, because the rain is really bad right now. You can call them back and talk to Sarah there. She’ll let you know more of what’s going on.”
Janey didn’t even know how to call the police station if it wasn’t an emergency. And she knew that went to dispatch, not someone at a desk. “Did Sarah leave a number?”
“Right here.” Bekka shook the paper she’d been holding out. Janey hadn’t even seen it.
She took it and said, “I’ll go call right now.” She spun on her heel and marched back to her office, her head high. She would not dissolve into tears, not until she knew what there was to cry about.
After locking the door and seating herself at her desk, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “All right.” She dialed Sarah and while the line rang, she turned up the setting on her space heater so she could finally get warm.
“Sarah Farnsworth,” she answered.
“Sarah, it’s Janey Germaine.”
“Oh, my goodness, Janey.” Her voice turned personal instead of professional, and she said, “He wanted us to call you. Milo’s on his way up to get you, but it’s slow, as I’m sure you understand. The Chief gave him your cell number, so he can call when he gets there.”
“So Adam’s awake? He’s okay?” He was obviously giving out directions, so he must not be too badly injured. The whispers in her mind wouldn’t cease though, and she pushed against them again.
“He called in the accident okay,” she said. “We’ve got an ambulance there now, and I’m waiting to hear how he is.”
So Sarah didn’t really know any more than Janey did. She sighed, wishing for more news and faster relief than Sit and wait and we’ll let you know.
“Can I give you my cell too?” Janey asked. “You can just text me whatever you find out, as soon as you know.”
“Yes, go ahead and give it to me,” Sarah said.
Janey recited the number, and said, “Well, I guess that’s it. Thanks for calling up here to let me know.”
“Drew’s on his way in from the farm,” Sarah said. “We’ll know more soon.” Something beeped really loudly on her end, and she said, “Oh! That’s Trent.”
“Sarah, come back.”
“Here, Trent.”
Janey bit her lip, waiting, hoping.
“He’s passed out, that’s why he won’t answer. The bus is here, and they’re working to get his leg free. Looks like he’s been cut on his face and neck a bit, probably from the broken glass. Russ says he’s breathing fine, and Pete’s in the car with him, trying to get him awake.”
“I’ve got Janey on the line,” Sarah said.
Janey felt like she was hovering outside of her body, but she said, “Thank you, Russ.”
“He’s okay, Janey,” Russ said. “He’s going to be just fine. Nothing life-threatening.”
The relief she wanted flowed through her, and the tears came. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice choked and full of emotion.
“Trent, out.”
Janey wiped her face and her phone buzzed and chirped, indicating she’d received a text. “Thank you, Sarah,” she said.
“Of course, dear.” The other woman sounded like she was crying too, and Janey realized Adam had a whole police department family who loved him as much as she did.
She hung up and stared at her phone, unseeing.
Because she was in love with Adam Herrin, and she’d just now realized it.
She squeezed Jess’s hand as they entered the emergency room waiting area. Milo came puffing in behind them, and he turned to the right as if he’d been here numerous times before. He probably had.
He stepped up to the desk and said, “Chief Herrin?”
It had been at least almost ninety minutes since the accident. The National Park was a good half an hour from town on a sunny day, and she’d asked Milo to stop by the junior high so she could get Jess. He deserved to know what was going on, be there for Adam too.
“He just got out of x-ray.” The receptionist looked up. “I can let him know you’re here, and talk to the doctor and see if it’s okay for you to go back.”
Milo shook his head. “It’s okay for us to go back.” He stepped around to the door and pushed it open. The receptionist did not think it was okay for them to go back, and she met them in the hall through the door.
“You’re not family. He might not be fit for guests.” She wore a stern look, and Janey’s heart pounded. She needed to see Adam right now. Right now.
“We’re family, Roberta,” Milo said in a low voice. “Just point me toward where he is, and we’ll only stay a minute. We just want to see him.”
“You and every other cop on the force,” she said, folding her arms. “We can’t have the whole department in the emergency room.”
“Just them, then.” Milo stepped back.
Roberta surveyed Janey and Jess, and she softened a little. “Fine. But if I get in trouble for this, I’m telling them I told you no.”
“That’s okay,” Janey said. “I’ll tell whoever I need to that Jess held you back or something.”
“Yeah, totally.” Jess shifted next to her. “I just want to see him. He taught me how to cook, you know? It was his recipe that I won with in the Fall Festival.”
Janey looked at him when she heard the tightness in his voice.
“It’s not fair,” Jess said, swiping at his eyes. He straightened and put on a stoic mask. “Just five minutes.”
“He’s in curtain seven,” Roberta said, stepping out of the way.
Janey didn’t waste a second. She hurried down the hall, glad Milo was with her to say, “It’s to your left, Janey. Left.”
She turned and saw curtain four ahead. Around a bend in the hall, and curtain seven came into view on the right. She slowed, suddenly unsure. “Maybe I should go first,” she told Jess as she stepped in front of him. “Trent said he’d been cut on his face and neck.”
Jess looked up at her with those dark-as-night eyes. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”
They faced the curtain together, and she pulled it back a bit and said, “Hello?”
Adam lay in bed, partially propped up. It took a long moment for
him to turn his head toward the sound of her voice, and she saw in his dull eyes that he’d been given some heavy painkillers.
“Hey,” she said again, softer and sweeter now.
“Janey,” he said. “Jess.” He motioned for them to come closer with his right hand. Almost everything on his right side seemed untouched. His arm, his leg, his side, his face, all fine.
It was his left side that had been battered, bruised, and buffeted. He had nicks and cuts from his fingers to his elbow, and gauze over his neck and ear, and one large spot on his forearm.
Janey went to his right side and reached up and ran her fingers through his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead. “You’re okay.” She took a deep breath of him, but he smelled more like antiseptic and plastic bandages than the Adam she knew.
“My left leg is broken,” he said. “Just got back from x-ray. They’re talkin’ about it with Drew and my mom now.” His voice slurred and his eyes closed.
Jess took his hand and said, “It’s just your left leg, Chief. You barely need that one.”
Adam chuckled but he didn’t open his eyes.
“We should go, Jess.”
“No.” Adam opened his eyes. “Don’t go.”
The area in curtain seven wasn’t that big, especially when a doctor, two nurses, Drew, Joel, and Donna came back.
“Oh, you made it.” Donna hugged her and then Jess, and Janey tried to stuff herself into a corner so the doctors could examine Adam’s leg.
“He’ll be going into surgery in just a few minutes,” she said. “The waiting room is on the third floor, just to the right of the elevators. When he’s done, I’ll come talk to you about how it went.” She nodded in a no-nonsense way but wore a kind smile as she did.
And with that, they lowered Adam’s bed until it was flat, and they pushed him and all of his equipment out of the curtain area.
“Okay, then.” Drew sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Let’s go wait on the third floor.”
Janey bought Jess a can of soda from the machine and met Donna’s eye. She mimed that she was going to go make a quick phone call, and Donna nodded, tucking Jess against her side in a silent I’ve got him.
Janey walked away, her legs feeling rubbery and like they might not hold her up for much longer. She ducked around the corner and dialed AnnaBelle.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call,” her sister said in a rush. “Is Adam all right?”
“How did you know?”
“He got in an accident on Main Street over two hours ago. Everyone knows.”
Janey sighed and leaned her head against the sterile wall behind her. She slid down and sat on the floor, her knees tucked to her chest. “They just took him into surgery. He has a broken leg. Other than that, he’s got a few bruises and cuts. I think the term the doctor used was ‘lacerations’ on his hands, arms, neck, and face. And a burn from the airbag.”
AnnaBelle sucked in a breath. “I’m so sorry, Janey.”
This time, Janey’s tears poured down her face. “Why does this stuff always happen to me? I mean, you’ve been married to Don for nine years now. He’s never gotten in an accident. Never broken a bone.” She calmed and quieted as someone in a white lab coat went by. “Maybe I’m bad luck.”
“Don’t be silly.” But AnnaBelle didn’t sound like Janey was being silly at all.
She tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling tiles. “What should I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jess and I get along just fine. Maybe I should...I don’t know. Cut Adam loose.”
“Janey....” But she didn’t finish. Didn’t reassure Janey that if she married Adam, they could grow old together. Janey supposed there were no assurances of that for anyone.
Her eyes filled with tears, and they trickled down her face. “I’ll call you when I know more, okay? Will you tell everyone else?”
“Of course.”
“Bye.” Janey hung up without waiting for AnnaBelle to say anything else. She stayed against the wall until her tears dried and her backside went numb. Then she got up and went into the bathroom to clean herself up. After all, she didn’t need Jess to see that she’d fallen apart over a broken leg.
It’s more than that.
And she knew it was, but she didn’t know what to do about her feelings for Adam, which had grown and swelled in only a few short months. And she couldn’t ask him to quit his job for her. He was a cop, through and through, obviously not exempt from the dangers of freezing rain.
She returned to the waiting area to find Jess fast asleep, his head in Donna’s lap, and Janey knew that if she broke things off with Adam, she’d be dealing with two broken hearts.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Loud beeping kept pinging against Adam’s blissful slumber. He really wanted it to stop. He needed to figure out where he was, and how he’d gotten there. Bright flashes of light kept sweeping in front of him, like headlights or the swift passing of a lighthouse beam.
People spoke, but whether the questions were directed at him or not, he couldn’t tell. It felt like a long time went by in this state, while only a few minutes passed at the same time.
Eventually, he was able to open his eyes, but it was still mostly dark, with that incessant beeping in the background.
He groaned, his mouth dry and tasting like someone had filled it with wallpaper paste. His leg ached and itched and he tried to pull it toward him to scratch it.
Pain tore through his hip, and that was when he remembered everything. A yelp left his mouth, and the scratching of a chair sounded in the room.
“Adam?”
“Janey?” His parched throat could barely push the word out.
“Let me get the nurse.” Her silhouette crossed to the door, which had a yellow-lit window, and she left. A few moments later, she returned with a nurse who flipped on the overhead lights.
He squinted and held back another groan.
“Hello, Chief. Good to see you awake.” Nancy Runsom smiled at him, but he couldn’t quite return the gesture the way he normally did.
“I wish I was still asleep.”
“Oh, nope.” She grabbed his chart and looked at it. Wrote some things down from the source of that annoying beep and said, “We’ll have you up and moving by morning.”
He gaped at her. “I obviously have a broken leg.”
“And some great big biceps to propel yourself around.” She grinned at him like they were conversing at a party. “What’s your pain at? Scale of one to ten, ten being so bad you’re about to cry.”
“Four.” He reached up and scratched his face, only to have his fingers meet gauze and tape. “I itch everywhere.”
“That’s a side-effect of the anesthetic they use during surgery. It’ll wear off soon.”
Not soon enough, in Adam’s opinion. Nancy flitted around and took his blood pressure, put some more painkillers in his IV, and finally left him alone with Janey.
“Hey,” he said. “Come here.”
She moved to the right side of the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She shook her head, a single tear splashing her face. He lifted his right arm, and she carefully curled into his side, her breath and tears hot against his chest.
“I’m okay,” he finally whispered. “People break their legs every day.”
She nodded but still didn’t say anything. Adam didn’t know how to reassure her, because the simple fact was, he couldn’t. So he simply held her close to his heart until she quieted, until her breathing evened out and she fell back asleep, until he could whisper, “I love you,” into the darkness and be the only one who heard it.
Nine days after the accident, he finally hobbled back into the police station. Sarah jumped from her seat with, “Chief! You’re back!” She hovered around him, her hands flapping like bird’s wings. “Let me get the door to your office.”
He’d had a steady stream of people helping him
at home too. His brother came every morning to make sure Adam could get in and out of the shower. Up and down the stairs. Janey came on Monday and Wednesday to bring him lunch. Jess came after school to take the dogs out for a run. Joel and his mother had come every night with dinner.
Adam just wanted to be alone. Needed to be able to take care of himself. His leg hardly hurt anymore, and the physical therapist he saw twice a week said he was making great progress. His cuts had healed nicely, though he wore a bandage over the biggest ones. He had two—one over a particularly deep cut on his neck and one over the burn on his arm from the explosive that detonated to inflate the airbag.
He could file paperwork, though. And answer emails. And sit in meetings. So he did all of that, growing more and more weary with every passing hour. Around two-thirty, Sarah said, “You should go home. You look gray.”
He felt gray, so he asked Trent to take him home. He didn’t have a new cruiser yet, as the insurance was being slow to come through on the appraisal of the one that had been totaled. It had been hit three times, in three different spots, so he wasn’t sure what the hold up was.
Doesn’t matter, he told himself as Trent turned into his driveway. You can’t drive anyway.
He waited for Trent to come give him something steady to hold onto as he heaved his considerable weight onto his good leg. Trent stayed by his side along the walkway and up the steps. Adam collapsed into a chair on his front porch, his breath laboring in and out of his lungs.
“Thanks.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m just going to sit right here for a while,” Adam said. “Jess will be by after school. I’ll make him cook me dinner.” He put a smile on his face so his officer would leave. Trent did, and Adam’s smile disappeared with the departure. He needed Gypsy’s happy face, so he got himself to his feet and opened the front door. “Come on,” he called, and both dogs came running.
Fable had been less standoffish since Adam had returned home, and both dogs sat at his feet. He absently rubbed them, taking their friendship and strength as his own.