If Not for You - Page 9/71

“There’s no need for you to stay,” Nichole told him.

“You can leave if you want,” Rocco reiterated. “Nichole and I will let you know in the morning what we hear.”

“No.” Sam’s response was adamant. He wasn’t leaving. No way. He wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about it, but he did. He wouldn’t desert Beth now, not after the way her eyes had held his. He had to know if she was going to survive this.

When the doctor appeared, the physician paused and looked around the waiting area. “Is anyone here for Beth Prudhomme?”

All three hurriedly rose to their feet. Right away Sam noticed the physician wore a brooding dark look.

Nichole spoke first. “How’s Beth?” she pleaded, holding Rocco’s hand in a death grip.

Sam studied the doctor, trying to read his eyes, but saw nothing.

“She’s in surgery with internal injuries. She has four fractured ribs and a fractured hip that requires an operation.”

Sam had guessed as much.

“She’ll need to be in the hospital several days and then will be transferred to a rehab facility for the remainder of her recuperation.”

Nichole sagged against her husband as if the news was almost too much for her. “Oh poor Beth.”

“You’re her friends?”

“Yes,” Nichole said.

He looked from one to the other, nodded, and said, “Good.”

Good?

Sam could only speculate what the other man meant by that. If he were going to read anything into it, the other man was telling him Beth would need her friends now more than ever.

Chapter 5

Beth

Beth woke and blinked, having trouble focusing. She knew she was in the hospital, because the nurse had told her so when she’d regained consciousness in the recovery room following surgery. Amazingly, she hadn’t felt any pain. Not then. The pain had come later, and thankfully, she was given medication that immediately put her to sleep.

She sensed someone was with her. Turning her head, she found Sunshine sitting in the chair beside her bed. She seemed to be deep in thought but noticed right away that Beth was awake.

Sunshine stood and brushed the hair from Beth’s forehead. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, glad to see you’re awake.”

Beth managed a weak smile.

Sunshine’s worried gaze revealed her concern. “This is a fine predicament you got yourself into.”

“Sorry,” Beth said, but her voice was no more than a whisper.

“Don’t apologize, Sweet Pea.”

“How’d … you find out?” She hadn’t expected to see anyone in her room.

“The hospital called. Someone must have told them I was your aunt. They found my number in the contact list on your phone.”

“Oh.” Beth briefly closed her eyes. “Sam,” she whispered.

“Sam?” Sunshine repeated, apparently unable to follow Beth’s line of thought.

“He was there.” She remembered very little of the accident itself. What did come to mind was Sam. He’d held her hand and spoken softly, assuring her that help was on the way.

“At the accident scene?”

“Yes.” At the time she was convinced she was going to die and had peace about it, and then Sam came and told her she was going to be all right. For whatever reason she chose to believe him. She would survive. This wasn’t the end, her life wasn’t over, at least not yet.

“Who’s Sam?”

“The man.”

“Sam the man,” Sunshine said with a widening smile. “That explains everything.”

“Nichole and Rocco’s friend.”

“Ah,” Sunshine said, her eyes brightening with understanding. “Your dinner date. How’d that go?”

“It was a disaster.”

“Sweet Pea, the car accident was a disaster, not dinner.”

Beth made an effort to smile. “True. Sam must have called Nichole.”

“Makes sense.”

“She knows you’re my aunt.” That must have been how the hospital was able to contact her. As soon as she connected the dots, she gasped. No doubt her aunt had gotten in touch with Beth’s parents.

“Honey, what is it?” Sunshine asked, immediately worried. “Are you in pain? Should I call for the nurse?”

“No.” Beth felt like she was about to hyperventilate. “Did you let my parents know?”

Sunshine hesitated. “Not yet.”

“Thank … God.” Her relief was instantaneous, tension draining out of her. No doubt her mother would use the accident to come rushing to her side and insist she return to Chicago for her recuperation. This was all the excuse Ellie Prudhomme would need to dig up the tender root of Beth’s independence.

“Before I call your parents I thought I should talk to you,” Sunshine explained.

“Good … don’t say anything, please … please.” With effort she raised her arm and reached for her aunt’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The last thing Beth wanted or needed was her mother rushing to her deathbed, crying, telling Beth that she’d made a terrible mistake in leaving Chicago.

“You don’t want me to tell your parents about the accident?”

“Don’t … don’t tell them.”

“Oh Sweet Pea, they need to know. You were seriously hurt.”

Beth pleaded with her aunt. “Mom … will make a big deal out of this.”

“Honey, it is a big deal.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want Mom rushing to Portland.” Her mother would blame Sunshine and make Beth’s recovery miserable, more miserable than it was destined to be already.

As if a heavy weight had been pressed against her shoulders, Sunshine sagged into the chair she’d scooted close to Beth’s hospital bed. “I have to tell them something.”

“Okay, tell them … tell them it was …” She found it hard to speak. “Tell them it was minor.”

“Minor?” she repeated and shook her head. Sunshine was far too honest to willingly lie.

“Okay, an accident,” she whispered, struggling to swallow.

As if sensing her problem, Sunshine lifted a glass of water with a straw and directed it to Beth’s mouth.

She managed a single sip before she was able to continue. “Don’t tell them … how badly hurt I am.” These few words exhausted her, but Beth had to be certain her aunt understood.

Sunshine shook her head. “You know your mother is going to ask.”

“Be … evasive.”

“Baby girl, I don’t know …”

“Then I’ll call Mom.”

“And then your father will call and drill me with questions,” Sunshine said, her brow furrowed with a frown.

This was worse than Beth imagined. No matter what her parents said, she refused to move back to Chicago. As it was, it’d taken her far too long to break away. As their only child, Beth had been the light of their lives. They wanted her happiness, and unfortunately her mother had a clear picture of what that should be. A view that often clashed with Beth’s wants. Her mother didn’t trust her to make her own decisions, and seemed convinced that the moment she broke away Beth would fall flat on her face, which apparently she had.

“I’ll make the call,” Sunshine said, reaching for her phone.

Depressed and discouraged, Beth swallowed tightly, already knowing it was going to be a complication she didn’t feel strong enough to handle in her weakened state. “Okay.”

Sunshine left the room and was gone for eleven minutes. Beth knew because she watched the clock and counted off every one of those minutes, struggling not to fall back asleep.

When her aunt returned to the room, Beth immediately made eye contact. “Well?”

“Rest easy. Thankfully, I was able to reach your father.”

That in itself was a surprise, because he was so involved in his work that he often left his phone at the house. “I told him about the accident and assured him that you didn’t want your mother booking the next flight to Portland. He’s going to talk to her and explain that she gave her word to leave you be for six months no matter what.”