Read Online Slow Heat in Heaven by Sandra Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sandra Brown
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He's been semiconscious all morning."
Schyler went to the pay telephone and notified Tricia of the good news, putting aside the argument they'd had earlier that morning. Then she was allowed into her father's ICU for two minutes. She was disappointed that he didn't wake up or otherwise acknowledge that he knew she was at his bedside, but she was encouraged by the doctor's report. Even the nurse's reassuring smile seemed more genuine.
Tricia and Ken arrived early in the afternoon. The three of them whiled away the hours in the hospital waiting room, taking turns going into the ICU once every hour.
Boredom set in. Eventually Ken said, "Schyler, why don't you come on home with us?"
"You two go ahead. I'll be home in time for dinner. I'd like to see him one more time before I leave."
"All right." Ken led his wife to the elevator. They waved at Schyler before the doors slid closed. Sick of looking at the same four walls, Schyler strolled along the gleaming corridors, thinking that she should call Mark.
He had been generous to let her leave without having any idea how long she would be gone. He hadn't even asked. He had helped her pack, had driven her to Heathrow, had kissed her good-bye, and told her to call if she needed anything. He had been as concerned for her as he was for Cotton, whom he'd never met but had certainly heard a lot about.
Schyler decided to wait until Cotton's prognosis was more definite before she called him. There was no sense in phoning until she had something substantial to report, except that she missed him terribly. She would take comfort just in hearing the familiar sound of his nasal Boston accent.
"Miss Crandall?"
She spun around. "Yes?" The nurse was smiling. "Daddy?"
"He's awake. Hurry."
Schyler followed the nurse's rapid footsteps down the corridor and into the ICU. Cotton didn't look much better than he had last night, though Schyler thought his complexion didn't look quite so waxy and that the blue tinge of his lips had faded somewhat. Being careful of the IVs, she lifted his hand and pressed it between both of hers.
"Daddy, hi. It's Schyler. I've been here for several days. How are you feeling? We've all been so worried. But the doctor says you're going to be fine."
The lines in his face were etched deeper. The skin beneath his stubborn, square chin was looser. His hairline had receded. But it was his eyes that arrested her. They had undergone the most remarkable change since she'd last seen him. The change made her own heart sink heavily in her chest. His eyes were the same vivid color of blue, but there was no light in them, no spark of mischief, no life.
His heart condition wasn't responsible for that lifelessness. Schyler knew that she had extinguished that light in his eyes. What she didn't know was what she had done to put it out.
"You've come back." His voice was as whispeiy and fragile as ancient paper. There wasn't a degree of warmth behind it.
"Yes, Daddy, I'm back. I'm at Belle Terre. For as long as you need me."
He stared up at her for a long moment. Then his veiny eyelids closed over those condemning blue eyes and he turned his head away.
The nurse stepped forward. "He's gone back to sleep, Miss Crandall. We'd better not disturb him anymore."
Schyler reluctantly released her father's hand and moved away from the bed. She watched the nurse make adjustments on the IVs. Feeling empty and alone, she left the room and the hospital.
No daughter had ever loved her father more than Schyler loved Cotton. And vice versa. Only he had stopped loving her. Six years ago. Why? She had been the injured party. Why had he turned against her? Whyl
The accumulated heat inside her car was unbearable. Even set on high, the air conditioner wasn't sufficient to cool it off, so she rolled down the windows. The wind tore at her hair punishingly. She took the winding road that was as familiar as her own face in a mirror. Her heart began to beat with glad expectation as she crossed the
Schyler went to the pay telephone and notified Tricia of the good news, putting aside the argument they'd had earlier that morning. Then she was allowed into her father's ICU for two minutes. She was disappointed that he didn't wake up or otherwise acknowledge that he knew she was at his bedside, but she was encouraged by the doctor's report. Even the nurse's reassuring smile seemed more genuine.
Tricia and Ken arrived early in the afternoon. The three of them whiled away the hours in the hospital waiting room, taking turns going into the ICU once every hour.
Boredom set in. Eventually Ken said, "Schyler, why don't you come on home with us?"
"You two go ahead. I'll be home in time for dinner. I'd like to see him one more time before I leave."
"All right." Ken led his wife to the elevator. They waved at Schyler before the doors slid closed. Sick of looking at the same four walls, Schyler strolled along the gleaming corridors, thinking that she should call Mark.
He had been generous to let her leave without having any idea how long she would be gone. He hadn't even asked. He had helped her pack, had driven her to Heathrow, had kissed her good-bye, and told her to call if she needed anything. He had been as concerned for her as he was for Cotton, whom he'd never met but had certainly heard a lot about.
Schyler decided to wait until Cotton's prognosis was more definite before she called him. There was no sense in phoning until she had something substantial to report, except that she missed him terribly. She would take comfort just in hearing the familiar sound of his nasal Boston accent.
"Miss Crandall?"
She spun around. "Yes?" The nurse was smiling. "Daddy?"
"He's awake. Hurry."
Schyler followed the nurse's rapid footsteps down the corridor and into the ICU. Cotton didn't look much better than he had last night, though Schyler thought his complexion didn't look quite so waxy and that the blue tinge of his lips had faded somewhat. Being careful of the IVs, she lifted his hand and pressed it between both of hers.
"Daddy, hi. It's Schyler. I've been here for several days. How are you feeling? We've all been so worried. But the doctor says you're going to be fine."
The lines in his face were etched deeper. The skin beneath his stubborn, square chin was looser. His hairline had receded. But it was his eyes that arrested her. They had undergone the most remarkable change since she'd last seen him. The change made her own heart sink heavily in her chest. His eyes were the same vivid color of blue, but there was no light in them, no spark of mischief, no life.
His heart condition wasn't responsible for that lifelessness. Schyler knew that she had extinguished that light in his eyes. What she didn't know was what she had done to put it out.
"You've come back." His voice was as whispeiy and fragile as ancient paper. There wasn't a degree of warmth behind it.
"Yes, Daddy, I'm back. I'm at Belle Terre. For as long as you need me."
He stared up at her for a long moment. Then his veiny eyelids closed over those condemning blue eyes and he turned his head away.
The nurse stepped forward. "He's gone back to sleep, Miss Crandall. We'd better not disturb him anymore."
Schyler reluctantly released her father's hand and moved away from the bed. She watched the nurse make adjustments on the IVs. Feeling empty and alone, she left the room and the hospital.
No daughter had ever loved her father more than Schyler loved Cotton. And vice versa. Only he had stopped loving her. Six years ago. Why? She had been the injured party. Why had he turned against her? Whyl
The accumulated heat inside her car was unbearable. Even set on high, the air conditioner wasn't sufficient to cool it off, so she rolled down the windows. The wind tore at her hair punishingly. She took the winding road that was as familiar as her own face in a mirror. Her heart began to beat with glad expectation as she crossed the
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