“Me?”

“Glenn will be rightly pissed if you don’t take care of yourself while she’s recuperating. That means eating right, sleeping right, and not worrying.”

“I don’t know how I’m not going to worry.” She trembled, seeing the stretcher zooming past her, glimpsing Glenn’s still form, remembering the blood and the terror.

“By reminding yourself she’s all right and thinking about all the amazing things the two of you will share.”

“Yes,” Mari whispered. “I can do that. Now.”

*

Every single person in the hospital, in the entire community, maybe in the entire county came by Glenn’s room into the late hours of the night. Mari, curled up in the chair by the side of Glenn’s bed, was aware of them, sometimes just shadows, pausing in the doorway for a few seconds, then moving on. Just checking to be sure Glenn was taken care of, leaving a little positive energy behind. Around midnight Antonelli came in, reviewed Glenn’s vital signs on the computer printout by her bed, listened to her heart and lungs. When he was done he bent down by Mari’s side and whispered, “You should go home. Get some sleep. She’s had a little sedation and is going to be out all night.”

“She might wake up.”

“Not for four or five hours.”

“You’re still here.”

He shrugged. “I’ll watch her for both of us.”

“Yeah, well…I’m so glad you were here tonight.”

“Me too. Mostly I’m really glad I have such a good teacher.”

The tears came again and Mari was too tired to even be embarrassed. Antonelli silently handed her a tissue and she wiped her eyes. “We were all lucky.”

“Damn scary night, just the same.”

Mari nodded.

“If you don’t want to go home, at least crash in the on-call room for a few hours.”

“He’s right,” a woman said from the doorway.

Mari looked over and something brought her instantly to her feet as Antonelli slipped out. “I know. It’s just really hard to leave her.”

“Mm-hmm.” Ida Rivers walked to the foot of Glenn’s bed and studied her for long, silent moments. With a brisk nod, she put her arm around Mari and drew her to the door. “She’s not in pain and she’s strong as an ox. She’ll mend quickly. I’m Ida Rivers, by the way.”

“I know. All your children look like you.”

Ida smiled. “When you see them next to their father, you’ll say the same thing.”

“I’m Mari Mateo. Carrie’s cousin.”

“Glenn’s girl too, if I understand right.”

Mari caught her breath. “Yes. You do. I am.”

“The first thing she’s going to worry about when she opens her eyes is you.”

Mari surrendered. “I’ll run home, shower, change my clothes. I don’t know how I can sleep.”

“Good enough.” Ida squeezed Mari’s hand. “She’s not going to want to stay in here, either. She’ll come to the homestead for a day or two so we can make sure she doesn’t overdo.”

Mari hadn’t thought beyond the morning. Of course Glenn would need time to recover, and she’d need to be with family. The family who had chosen her, whom she had chosen. “That’s perfect. I have a feeling she’ll listen to you.”

“For as long as the lot of them do, which in this case will be about a day.” Ida laughed. “You’re welcome to come by and stay as long as you want. We’ve got more than enough rooms.”

“Thank you. I’m going to need to work, especially with Glenn out. But if you wouldn’t mind me dropping by…” Mari sighed. “I know she’s going to be all right, in my head at least, but—”

“The heart needs something different.” Ida gave her a squeeze. “Breakfast starts at six, dinner at five. We always have leftovers. So you just come around when you’re free. Glenn will want you there.”

“Thank you,” Mari whispered.

Ida glanced into the room at Glenn. “No need to thank me for taking care of my children.”

Mari returned to Glenn’s side and kissed her softly on the cheek. “I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Mari knew she wouldn’t sleep, but Ida’s voice in her head kept telling her she needed to try, and she woke up twelve hours later. A spurt of adrenaline jolted her out of bed and she speed-dialed the page operator and asked for Glenn’s floor.

“Oh, hi, Mari, this is Kimberly. I was just going off shift.”

“How’s Glenn?”

Kimberly laughed. “Harper was by around six this morning, signed Glenn’s discharge, and personally wheeled her out just as I was coming on.”

Mari sighed. Of course Glenn had left the instant she could. “Thanks.”

Mari rang off, hesitated a moment, and called the page operator back.

“This is Mari Mateo, a PA in the ER. Can you connect me to Dr. Edward Rivers’s home number?”

“Sure can. Hold on.”

Ida answered on the third ring. “Hello. Rivers.”

“Mrs. Rivers, it’s Mari. I’m so sorry to disturb you, but—”

“She’s here,” Ida said. “Sleeping still, I’d wager. Harper was by a little while ago and said everything looks just fine.”

Mari’s breath whooshed out. “Thank you.”

“What about you? Have you eaten?”

Mari laughed. “I just this minute opened my eyes. I slept almost all day. I’m fine.”

“You have time to come by for something to eat?”

“I wish I did, but I need to get to work. You’ll let me know if there’s any change, though, won’t you?”

“You can stop worrying about that. She’s sleeping and when she’s not, she’s eating, and under orders to do nothing else. Come to breakfast in the morning.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Course I am. You take care of yourself now.”

“I will. Tell her I called, please.”

“Done. Now I’ll see you in the morning.”

A shower, a cup of coffee that she drank on her way up the hill to the hospital, and a fresh sliced deli sandwich seemed to put her back on track. That and knowing Glenn was being cared for and healing.

Abby pursed her lips when Mari walked in and gave her a thorough study. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.”

“I’ve been working on the schedule, switching things around to cover for Glenn. I can get someone in here for you tonight too.”

“No. I want to work.”

“Good, because I need you.”

“I need to be here too.” Mari shrugged. “I want to be here. Mrs. Rivers—Ida—is looking after Glenn.”

Abby nodded. “I know. Flann told me. Everyone is getting updates and passing them along, otherwise the place out there would be overrun.” Abby smiled. “Glenn is very popular.”

“I don’t think she has any idea just how much.”

“Of course she doesn’t. That’s the sweetest thing about Glenn.”

Mari’s face heated. There were many sweet things about Glenn. “I’m going out there in the morning.”

Abby chuckled. “If it’s quiet, you can finish up a little early. And if you need to, you can take my car. I’ll catch a ride with Flann.”

“Thank you. Thanks for everything. Coming here is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.” Mari didn’t say what Abby must already know—the staff in the ER, the friends she’d made, Carrie and the Riverses—they were her family now. This was her home. And she had Glenn, a woman she loved.

“I’m very glad you’re here.”

Her shift passed quickly. A steady line of patients, noncritical thankfully, kept her busy until six in the morning. The board was finally empty except for several patients who’d already been seen and were awaiting rooms upstairs.

“I’ll keep an eye on the rest of them,” Baker, Mari’s PA trainee, said.

“Thanks. Let me just clear it with Abby. Good job tonight.”

Baker smiled, her eyes sparkling at the praise. She was growing in confidence from a serious student to an intuitive clinician. Not everyone made that leap, but she had. “No problem. Tell Glenn we all said hi and to get well soon.”

Mari’s throat tightened. “Yes, I will.”

*

The sunrise was a brilliant wash of orange and red flames dancing over the mountaintops. Mari drove with the windows open, exulting in the cool morning air that would be gone in just a few hours, fleeing before the sultry summer heat. God, it was beautiful. She laughed aloud. She’d forgotten what happiness felt like, and the excitement that a new day brought when anything was possible.

She slowly made her way down a long gravel drive flanked by broad green fields to a magnificent brick and white-columned house with sweeping wings that looked in many ways like a miniature of the hospital, and of course it would, probably being as old or older. The multi-paned windows sparkled, urns of red and white flowers bedecked the formal front porch, and stately chimneys crowned each end gable. She parked and got out, hesitating as to whether to try the tall front door or wander around to a side entrance, when she smelled what could only be the aroma of fresh-baked bread. Ida, she guessed, was baking.

Following the delicious aroma, she walked around to the back of the house and up a few stairs to a wide, homey porch and an open doorway enclosed with just the screen. “Hello?”

Ida’s voice called back, “Thought I heard a car, but the rest of them usually pull all the way under the porte cochere. Come get some coffee.”

Mari entered a kitchen twice the size of her apartment, anchored by a huge table in the center with at least a dozen chairs, framed on two sides by wood-topped counters, glass-fronted cabinets, and a giant cast-iron stove where Ida dished food onto a platter. “Oh, I’m not sure I can eat—”

Ida turned and gestured to the table. “You’re hungry. Your stomach just hasn’t caught up yet.”

Mari sat dutifully and, when coffee appeared beside the food, realized she was ravenous. “Oh my God, these eggs are amazing.”

“Just laid this morning, that’s why.” Ida sat with a cup of coffee. “Edward’s gone on rounds, Margie is off to get Blake for their shift over in the ER, and Flann was just here checking on Glenn.”