The Village of Gerard's Cliff (15 page)

"Everyone, this is Allie."
Catherine presented her to the group. Allie estimated there to be
about ten family members in the room. Immediately, an older couple
walked over to her, the woman grabbing both of Allie's hands in her
own, a welcoming smile on her face.

"Allie, I'm Elaine,
Connor's mother, and this is his father, Frank." She nodded toward
her husband. "We're so glad you made it here safely." She leaned
toward her, lowering her voice. "We've already been in to see
Connor. He's waiting for you, and I know you're anxious to see him,
so you can meet the rest of the family later." Without waiting for
a reply, she put her arm around Allie's shoulders and escorted her
to the door. "He's in room 508 down to the left. By the way, dear,
he's still drowsy from the anesthesia."

"Thank you, Elaine." Allie
was grateful that his mother understood, and she pressed her hands
warmly. She walked down the hall, hesitated for a moment in front
of Connor's door, then pulled it open. The door shut slowly behind
her as she stood quietly in the darkened room, the only sound, the
soft, intermittent whirring of the blue monitor by his bed. She
hadn't been in a hospital room since her mother's death. Allie
looked at the bed. Connor's eyes were closed, his head back on the
pillow...the sheet was pulled taut up under his arms that lay
motionless on either side of him...the hand closest to her palm up,
his fingers slightly curled. The blue print hospital gown that
showed above the sheet appeared snug across his shoulders, and was
untied, the laces laying forward on his chest. Allie noticed that
there were oxygen tubes stretched across his nose and cheeks.
Assorted tubes ran from the bag over the monitor to the IV in his
arm, and from beneath the sheet to a second monitor. In the
silence, she could hear her heart thumping loudly, as she stepped
quietly across the linoleum floor and sat down in the recliner on
the other side of his bed. She dropped her bag softly on the floor
beside her, gazing at his still face. She scanned his sheet covered
body, trying to figure out where his wound was. She hadn't found
out exactly where he had been shot, only that the bullet had missed
an artery, and there might be permanent damage. Allie took a deep
breath, and looked at the monitor showing his heart rhythm,
thankful that it looked so strong and steady.

"Hi...there"

Her eyes darted back to
his face as she heard the slurring warmth of Connor's voice, and
she saw him smiling weakly, his eyes thin slits of bright blue amid
the tubes. She scooted closer to the bed, and put her hand in his.
He squeezed it lightly. She could see him trying to slant his eyes
to focus on her face without moving his head.

"Hi." Allie whispered as
she leaned closer, willing herself to be strong...not to cry in
front of him. She put her other hand on his brow, and smoothed his
hair back from his forehead, smiling, still gazing into his eyes.
"I'm here now."

She saw him nod slightly,
blink slowly, then close his eyes, as he lightly squeezed her hand
again.

A few minutes later, the
door opened and Catherine walked in quietly. "We're all heading
home now." She whispered, after noticing that Connor was asleep.
"What do you want to do?"

"I'll stay here. I can
sleep on the recliner."

"Okay...let us know if
there's any change, but the nurse said he's stable, so....well...we
know he's in good hands." Catherine smiled. "My number is on the
table by his bed." She looked at Connor for a moment, then smiled
at Allie, and closed the door behind her.

The rest of the night was
a blur. Allie occasionally dozed off, her head forward on her arm,
still holding Connor's hand, only to be awakened by a nurse
checking his vital signs. Connor would rouse for a moment, then
slip back into his drug-induced sleep. As the nurse checked his
wound, Allie could see that he had been shot in his upper left leg.
She winced as the nurse pulled back the gauze, checking the drain
tube.

"He should feel better in
a couple of days." The nurse smiled at Allie, as she pulled the
sheet back over Connor and tucked it in, laying his arm with the IV
back in position. "This is the roughest time, right after surgery,
but he's doing well." Her shoes padded softly across the floor as
she left them.

Allie awoke with a start,
and lifted her head from her arm, noticing that the sun was shining
through the window behind her...directly onto Connor's face. She
carefully slid her hand from Connor's, tiptoeing to the window to
close the blinds. When she turned back around, she saw Connor
watching her, his eyes a little more open, his head turned slightly
toward her.

"I'm glad you came."
Connor's voice sounded stronger to her, but still slurred. His eyes
were bright, despite the drugs, but she could see his gaze
wavering. He tried to turn his head toward her, but immediately
moved it back, closing his eyes. "Bad headache."

"Do you want me to get the
nurse?" Allie felt his forehead, and smoothed his hair. "Connor,
I'll stay as long as you need me." She took his hand in both of
hers.

"I love...you......you
know." He took a long breath, and drifted off again, snoring
softly.

"I love you, too." She
whispered, rubbing his hand gently. She listened to the beautiful
sound of his breathing.

“
Damn it." Connor fell back heavily on
the bed. He exhaled, trying to calm his nerves, as he leaned back
on his elbows, and looked up at the ceiling. This was not
working....no matter how he tried to maneuver himself, he could not
do it. Only a few feet down the hall this time...not as far as he
had made it yesterday.

Allie walked in from the
adjoining bathroom, wrapping a white hospital towel around her wet
hair. She tilted her head, and put her hands on her
hips.

"It's not going well, I
take it." She sighed, sympathetically. He could see that she felt
his frustration. Three weeks at the hospital and this was all he
could show for it. How was he going to manage at home? Allie had
given him every ounce of encouragement she could muster, he knew
that. She had been with him the whole time, getting him through the
rough first days, watching his physical therapy sessions....all
with a positive attitude. She knew he could do it - but the problem
was, he couldn't.

"Mark should be here any
minute." Allie started drying her hair with a towel. Her flight
back to Gerard's Cliff was only two hours away.

"I don't know if I'm ready
to go home today." He shifted his weight so that he was sitting up
on the bed. He ran his hand through his hair
impatiently.

"I don't think you have a
choice, do you? Your doctors feel that you're ready to go home."
She started rubbing the ends of her hair with the towel. "Physical
therapy is all out-patient from this point." She stopped, and
looked at him seriously. "You know the doctors told you that it
would take months, maybe up to a year, until your leg is a hundred
percent healed."

"I'm well aware of that."
His tone was sarcastic, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He
noticed that she ignored his remark.

He knew Allie was watching
him, concern in her eyes. He knew he was letting her down. On top
of this failure, he had been having nightmares...three times so
far...waking up dripping with sweat. He rubbed his forehead. The
doctors had told him it was from the trauma and guilt from seeing
his partner shot, and killed, standing right next to him, as they
went in to arrest two of the last of the counterfeiters. They said
it would stop with time....but he was getting damn tired of them...
he didn't want Allie to see him like that, but she had. He had a
vague recollection of her hand on his brow, talking to him as
calmly as she could. He was supposed to be the strong one, the
supporter...he should be helping her...not the other way
around.

She pulled her hair back
into a pony-tail. "I guess I'll start packing up." Connor watched
her put his hospital supplies in a plastic container, and her
clothes in her bag. A loud knock on the door startled them
both.

"Come on in." Connor was
not looking forward to this. Mark poked his head around the
door....

"You ready to go,
brother?'

"Ready as I'll ever be."
Connor reached for the walker.

Mark rolled in a
wheelchair and pushed it up beside Connor.

"Uh..no. You go home in
this...hospital rules." His brother laughed. Connor groaned, even
knowing full well that he could not possibly have walked to the car
on his own.

Connor shifted his body on
the bed, stood up on his good leg, and swiveled around until he
managed to land in the wheelchair. Allie held the door for Mark to
push Connor out into the hall. They made sure to stop at the desk
and thank the staff for the excellent care he had received, and
then they headed for the elevator.

Allie looked out of the
plane's tiny window at the billowing clouds below. Leaving Connor
was one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she had made
the decision for two reasons. The first was Connor, himself...he
needed the time to himself to get straightened out, she had
reasoned. Despite his protests, she knew he would function better
without her there, and learn to cope on his own without having to
rely on her. He was making progress, slowly, frustrating him out of
his mind, she knew, but she could still see the improvement. Allie
winced, recalling the first time the doctors made him try to get up
on his leg...she had never heard so much cursing in her life. By
the time, he fell back into his bed, he was dripping with sweat,
completely exhausted. But now, with the aid of a walker, he could
make it halfway down the hospital corridor...on a good day. A
therapist would be coming to his apartment every day now, to
continue exercises to strengthen his leg.

The nightmares were
something else altogether. She thought about the three episodes he
had experienced in the hospital. The first time she was jolted
awake and petrified, not knowing what to expect...or what to do to
help him. He had suddenly jerked upright in the middle of the
night, yelling.....soaking wet with sweat, his eyes staring
straight ahead...then, by the time the nurse got to the room, he
had slumped back on his pillow, and sleeping soundly. The next two
times he had done this, she had tried to soothe him, rubbing his
brow...knowing that he probably was not even aware of her. She knew
these were temporary, but Connor was beyond frustrated.

On the other hand, she
smiled to herself, being in such close quarters for three weeks was
not such a bad thing. She had heard lots of stories of his
childhood, and the mischief he and Mark had gotten into when they
were younger. Once he was off most of his pain meds, and they were
pretty sure no one would be barging in his room, she would snuggle
up to him on his "good side" as they called it, and have
semi-intimate moments...Connor joking that now, he would only have
one thing on his mind when his leg healed, and she'd better watch
out.

His family couldn't have
been sweeter, or more considerate of their deepening feelings for
each other. One night, a steak dinner was delivered to his hospital
room, courtesy of his parents. They seemed to have a busy, full
life of their own, so, in Allie's mind, they cared about their
grown children without being intrusive. Catherine picked her up one
day when Connor had a long therapy session, and took her out for
shopping and lunch. Allie now had five outfits to her
name.

She recalled the night
that her father had come to the hospital to meet Connor. It was the
first time she had seen him after the fire, and fresh tears had
welled up in her eyes as she recounted the harrowing night with
Connor, the gunmen, and the inn. She had pushed it all to the back
of her mind after getting to the hospital, too worried about Connor
to even think about the inn. She could tell immediately that her
father liked Connor, just by the way he shook his hand. She had
sighed contentedly, eyeing the two sweet and handsome men in her
life.

She leaned back in her
seat, gazing languidly out of the window, but only seeing the image
of Connor...dear Connor, sleepily telling her he loved
her.

The second reason she was
returning to Gerard's Cliff? She had a buyer for what was left of
the inn.

Allie signed her name in
the designated space and handed the final page of the agreement to
the lawyer. He began organizing the mound of paperwork into three
neat folders.

She smiled at the new
owners, who she knew were anxious to finally be able to begin
building on the land. She was genuinely happy for them, and had
seen immediately that they were the right fit. A couple in their
forties, they planned on building their dream home where the inn
once stood. They all stood, and shook hands, the new owners hugging
her as well.

As Allie drove back to her
apartment, she thought about Connor, who was a constant presence in
her heart and mind. She looked forward to calling him when she got
home, filling him in on the details of the sale. Thankfully, his
nightmares were less frequent, and his walking had improved quite a
bit, which greatly lifted his spirits. It had been two weeks since
she visited him in Maryland...and now, the physical ache for him
never left her. Smiling to herself, she recalled how, while she was
there, he'd kept his promise...and they never left the apartment
for the three days she was there.