Love's Stormy Gale (Heartsong Presents) Page 16

  It was time to go home. Her family waited for her. And she needed to wait for Jonathan.

  *

  “Honey, we were so worried.” Her mother embraced her before she handed Olivia a mug of hot chocolate. “I tried calling and you didn’t answer. Maggie’s at the hospital now. Her contractions came faster and faster. I imagine they’ll have a new little one sometime tonight.”

  “I can’t wait to hear!” Olivia sipped the cocoa. “But I have to tell you some things.”

  “Oh?”

  “You were right.” Finally, she felt like she was beginning to thaw out in more ways than one. “I thought if I took care of things myself, I could keep everyone safe. I really didn’t think God was doing His job all that well.” Her throat caught.

  Her mother sniffed and dabbed at her own eyes. “In spite of me, He took care of you. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  The two women embraced. Old anger had been washed away.

  *

  The phone call from Todd came at the coldest hour of the night when Olivia had finally dozed in her father’s chair.

  “Is it Maggie?” Olivia’s mouth felt plugged with cotton.

  “No, she’s still in labor.” His pause made Olivia’s stomach retie itself in a knot. “It’s Jonathan.”

  “What happened? Where is he?”

  “He’s just been brought unconscious into the E.R., except—”

  “I’m on my way!” She slammed down the phone. Still dressed in her sweats, she yanked on her coat, then scribbled a note for her parents.

  “I will not be afraid. I’m in God’s loving care, no matter what happens.” She locked the door behind her. “No matter how I feel.”

  Olivia crunched through the snow to her car, did a cursory scraping of the windshield and set out. She felt the love surging to her fingertips so much that she expected it to pop through the fingers of her gloves that gripped the cold steering wheel.

  The rear end of the car fishtailed as she turned onto Atlantic Avenue and headed for the hospital. Olivia’s foot automatically lifted from the accelerator; she turned the wheel and allowed the car to straighten.

  Jonathan needed her. She would be there for him, always.

  *

  Jonathan’s head roared as he lay on the stretcher in the E.R. The hospital staff worked on him, shining lights in his eyes. Someone shouted something about a head scan. His lungs burned. Every breath caused tingling pain and there didn’t seem to be enough air. He reached for the source of the pain in his head.

  “Don’t touch. I’m going to suture this laceration,” a stern yet calming male voice admonished him. “I’m Dr. Caproni. You’re in the Fairport E.R. You’ve got a pretty nasty gash on your head, a possible concussion and you’ve swallowed a lot of water.”

  The voice went on to ask him questions about himself, the day of the week and the year and the name of the president. All Jonathan wanted was sleep or relief from the pressure building in his head. The blackness beckoned to him.

  “Hang on. Peterson, epinephrine, stat!”

  He was so tired. Olivia…

  *

  Olivia nearly collided with a nurse as she burst through the doors of the E.R. She paused, forcing herself to take a deep breath. They’d probably want to medicate her if she pounced on the desk like a wild woman.

  She approached the clerk at the information desk. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Jonathan Barrotta. He’s just arrived here.”

  “Are you family?” The tired-looking woman shuffled through some papers.

  “No, I’m not family.” Olivia’s hopes sank.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you any more. Confidentiality and regulations…” The woman smiled sympathetically.

  Olivia sighed. “Thank you anyway. But please, if you can get him a message, let him know I’m here.” She might as well head for Labor and Delivery to see about Maggie. And maybe she’d find someone to tell her something about Jonathan.

  She trudged to the maternity floor, her boots seeming to grow heavier with every step. Todd was standing in the waiting room, talking to Maggie’s parents and grinning.

  “Todd, how is she?” Olivia felt her lips forming a smile, then corrected herself. “How are they?”

  He removed the green scrubs he wore. “Both Maggie and Lydia are doing wonderfully.” Todd’s eyes were red, his face split into a wide grin. “It’s a miracle.”

  She hugged him, and congratulated Maggie’s parents. “I can’t wait to see them both.” She was dying to ask him about Jonathan, what else he knew, but didn’t want to squelch their joyful moment.

  “She’s perfect. She’s beautiful.” Todd released a chuckle. “Aw, I can’t wait to take more pictures.”

  Maggie’s parents left the room to see their daughter. Todd assured them he’d follow. When he turned back to face Olivia, she could see fresh worry on his face.

  “What is it? What happened to Jonathan?”

  Todd led her to a chair. “The Isabella Rose made it home, but just barely. One of the guys called me. He was the one who called earlier. Anyway, Jonathan was injured while working on the bilge pumps. They nearly lost him and Freddy, the hold had filled with enough water…and he’s got a bad gash on his head, lost a lot of blood.”

  Olivia clamped a hand on her mouth and groaned. She removed her hand to speak. “But he’s alive. I wish I could see him. Do his parents know?”

  Todd nodded. “I called them in Florida. They’re flying out as soon as they can get a flight to Logan.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “The one doctor I spoke with said Jonathan’s got a lot of pressure building up in his brain.” Evidently Todd had had better success gaining information.

  “So that’s why they’re operating. The clerk downstairs wouldn’t tell me anything….” Olivia rubbed her chilled fingers together.

  “Let’s pray for him real quick.” Todd’s grin came back. “And then I’ll sneak you in to see Maggie.” They bowed their heads and prayed for skill for the doctors and Jonathan’s recovery.

  Olivia followed Todd to a semiprivate room, where an exhausted yet radiant Maggie held a wrinkled infant on her chest. Her eyes glittered with tears that ran down her face.

  “Mag…” Olivia’s throat caught at the sight of the little bundle. Now was not a time to storm the operating room and demand what was being done for the man she loved. Now was a time to rejoice with her friends.

  “I never thought I’d be so tired or hurt so bad,” Maggie said. “But she’s worth it. Oh, yes, she’s worth it.” Her gaze drifted up to Todd.

  Olivia slipped off her coat and settled onto the chair by the bed. “I’m so happy for you. So glad. I should have brought you something, but I was kind of in a hurry….”

  Maggie nodded. “Todd just told me. Hey, it’s going to be all right.” She reached over the bed railing for Olivia’s hand.

  “I know.” Olivia’s throat caught again. “May I hold her?”

  “Sure, but wash your hands….” Maggie gestured at the sink with her head.

  Olivia complied and took the featherlight newborn into the crook of her left arm. A sweet rush of joy swept through her. Little Lydia stirred; a tiny fist went to a petal pink mouth.

  A new life had appeared tonight in the world. Olivia’s heart rejoiced for Maggie and Todd. “She’s an answer to prayer, isn’t she?” Soft laughter bubbled up inside her. The jiggling caused Lydia’s eyelids to flutter. “Oopsy. Hope she’s not going to squall yet!”

  “So Aunt Olivia, is your life going to be different now?” Maggie teased. “You look quite a bit more peaceful than when I saw you leave the house tonight.”

  Olivia placed Lydia back in Maggie’s arms. “Yes, I hope so. I’m here to see you, but for Jonathan, too. There’s so much I have to tell him.”

  Todd frowned. He took his place at Maggie’s side and reached a finger down to stroke his little daughter’s cheek. “I pray he’s willing to listen and doesn’t get pigheaded.”
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  “What are you talking about?” Olivia tried to keep her voice even.

  “From what it sounds like, the Isabella might not be seaworthy again or worth repairing.” Todd’s eyes met hers; disappointment filled his expression. “Jonathan’s sunk everything he’s got into this boat. I hope his pride doesn’t get the better of him.”

  *

  The angry water poured into the hold, black as ink, threatening to swallow Jonathan up. His arms and legs felt pinned to the floor—or was he on the ceiling? Was the outside water filling the compartments, forcing out the oxygen and sending them all to the bottom of the ocean?

  He heard a soft voice above the crashing waves. Olivia? Something about everything being all right, that God was with him and carrying him. But something still felt wrong.

  A pounding in his head like a jackhammer greeted Jonathan as he fought his way to consciousness. Warm, strong hands gripped one of his. He could smell flowers. No, perfume. Olivia’s. He wished his hands would cooperate.

  “So you see, it doesn’t matter to me what you do, Jon. I love you…. I love you….” A gulp silenced her voice.

  His eyes focused on her face, etched with concern, her eyes fixed on his chapped hands. He tried to speak, but his throat throbbed. Olivia’s gaze flicked to his face.

  “Oh, you’re awake! I was hoping you’d hear me. I begged one of the nurses to let me sit with you, because your mom and dad aren’t here yet. And Maggie had her baby.” A blush colored her face while she babbled.

  His parents were coming. Jonathan closed his eyes. Now his failure would be complete, and all would see him for what he really was.

  Olivia kept chattering about the baby, her name and something about going walking at the harbor during the storm and then locking her keys in her car. Part of him wanted to laugh, listening to her mouth motor away nonstop. This was the Olivia he loved. A sparkle flared up in her eyes when she touched his cheek.

  “There’s so much I have to explain. I’ve been up almost all night, and I know you’ve just had surgery, but I had to stay here and at least talk.” She stood up, then leaned over him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  Her lips were soft on his face, the best thing he’d felt in a long time. Their whisper-soft touch caressed his forehead, cheeks, then found his mouth. They lingered; equally soft hands rested on his stubbled jaw. Jonathan wanted to slip an arm around her, but it wouldn’t cooperate.

  Olivia drew back. When she spoke, her voice sounded husky and low. “Welcome home, my love. I’ll always be here for you. But right now I’ll go get one of the nurses.” She swept out to the hall.

  Jonathan cleared his throat and fought off the edges of oblivion that threatened his senses. A nurse returned and noted his vital signs, and before she left, admonished Olivia to let Jonathan get some sleep. Olivia bobbed her head and stood to one corner of the room, and murmured something about sleeping in the chair.

  “Liv,” he managed to croak.

  “Yes?” She was back at his side in a flash.

  “Don’t waste your time with me.” The words stabbed him as he spoke.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve got nothing now. The Isabella is pretty much foundered; it’s a miracle we made it back. And I’ve been a fool. You don’t need this life, or someone like me in yours.” He hated to see the agony cross her face. Yet he knew he spoke the truth. “Go home, sleep. Everything will be okay.” He closed his eyes, hating himself for the pain he’d just inflicted.

  *

  Olivia watched Jonathan succumb to much-needed sleep. He couldn’t have meant what he’d just said. Maybe it was the medication. Although Todd had mentioned something earlier about male pride. Stubborn, pigheaded…

  But she didn’t care. She situated herself in the chair by the bed, accepted the blanket and neck pillow from the nurse, and allowed herself to doze. She’d show him she wouldn’t run off. Not this time.

  By the time morning came, every muscle in Olivia’s neck and back screamed from being in the chair. Jonathan still slept. A nurse would come through, note his vital signs, then leave. One even gave Olivia a sad smile.

  The Barrottas arrived from Florida not long after lunch. Olivia found them in Jonathan’s room after she’d left to grab a bite and call home to tell her parents about Jonathan.

  “Olivia, it’s good to see you again. Not in this way, though.” Janet Barrotta, an elegant-looking woman with graying hair, embraced her. “I’m glad Jon’s got you.”

  “Thanks. He tried to drive me off earlier, but I’m not budging.”

  Tom Barrotta shook his head. “Stubborn boy. He told me he’d sunk everything into that boat.”

  Olivia bit her lip. “I know he’s disappointed. But he tried. He tried very hard. And I’m proud of him.” She squared her shoulders.

  “He did try.” Mr. Barrotta looked tired.

  “And he doesn’t have nothing.” Olivia nodded. “He’s talented, hardworking and has a faith in God that teaches me lessons. No, he has a lot.”

  Mrs. Barrotta patted Olivia’s arm. “And you love him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. No matter what.” She gave half a smile, then yawned. “I’m sorry. I want to be here when he wakes up, but I’m so tired.”

  “Go ahead home. Give me your number and I’ll call you when Jonathan wakes.”

  Olivia gave Mrs. Barrotta her cell number. She yawned once more. She’d go home to sleep and prepare to show Jonathan she’d be there for him.

  Chapter 21

  Jonathan could finally sit up two mornings later without waves of nausea racking his body. He begged off the promethazine injections, refusing to feel drugged. The pain medication did that enough.

  He didn’t want to think about the medical bills. Hopefully, they’d let him go home that afternoon. According to the doctor, they’d had to relieve the pressure and swelling in his skull. Aside from some bruises and the gash in his forehead and the concussion, he felt fine.

  And aside from his heart, now that he’d told Olivia to go on without him.

  Jonathan fingered the phone numbers on the scrap of paper his mother had left. He’d begged her not to call Olivia.

  His Bible sat on the tray next to his untouched breakfast. Jonathan knew he needed both, but right now he let them be.

  He needed to call his insurance company and make an appointment for a claims adjuster to assess his boat. Maybe he’d be able to pay off his debts and the hospital bills. Then he’d figure out what to do next.

  “Lord, I’m sorry. I’m not what Olivia needs. I’m no provider for her. I couldn’t hack it. And now, no one in town will ship out with me.” He studied one of the 144 tiles in the ceiling. “Plus, I was wrong. I thought it was Your will for me to have a boat and to fish. How can I expect to know Your will for me and for Olivia? And if we had kids—” Jonathan refused thoughts of a future and a family at the moment.

  A hard rap sounded in the doorway. Sam entered the room.

  “I came to talk some sense into you.”

  “How did you get in?” Jonathan craned his neck to see into the hallway.

  “Through the front door.” Sam crossed his arms in front of him.

  “No one but family or my pastor was supposed to be allowed to visit.”

  “I told them I was your future father-in-law.”

  “Aw, Sam.”

  “My Liv’s wondering why you haven’t called her and won’t let her visit you. Nobody treats my baby girl like that. I don’t care if you are in a hospital bed.” The man’s eyes flashed.

  “It’s for the best. I can’t provide for her. I don’t have anything.” Jonathan clenched his jaw.

  With two strides, Sam crossed the room and grabbed Jonathan’s hands. His viselike grip squeezed tighter and tighter. “You’ve got these two hands. Hardworking hands.” The man released one of his hands and gave Jonathan’s chest a nudge. “And your heart.” Then he tapped the bandage on Jonathan’s forehead. “And a good head on your shou
lders, even though it’s about the hardest one I’ve seen.”

  Jonathan clenched his free hand into a fist. “She deserves better.”

  “She deserves you.” Sam released Jonathan’s hand from his grip, and Jonathan tried not to flex his fingers in relief. “Besides, isn’t your God big enough?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t look so shocked. I’m not a churchgoing man, at least I wasn’t until recently. But if God is as big as you say and as powerful, wouldn’t He take good care of you two?” Sam shook his head. “Boy, but you do have a hard head!” Sam strode to the window and studied the bright winter day outside.

  If I’ve ever been wrong, Lord, it’s now. And having a man who hasn’t been to church in years to teach me a lesson. Forgive my pride. The knowledge of what he’d done to Olivia pained him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Sam whirled from where he stood. “That’s a start.”

  “I’ve had so much pride, worrying about my image. What others thought about me. You know how those guys are, Sam.” Jonathan swallowed hard; at least it didn’t hurt so much to talk anymore. “I’ve been wrong. Do you think she’ll come if I ask her to?”

  “Like a shot.” Sam grinned for the first time since he’d walked into the hospital room. “But before you call her, I’ve got a business proposition for you. See, Lindy doesn’t mind me lobstering. Lindy says I could get a website and sell my lobsters direct. Except I’ll need help. So I’ve been thinking about taking on a partner. Are you interested?”

  Jonathan felt hope blooming inside. “Let’s talk.”

  *

  “What has Dad gone and done now?” Olivia demanded of her mother. She’d taken advantage of her father leaving the house to wrap his Christmas gifts.

  “He said he’d had enough of you moping around the house. So I think he went to pound some sense into Jonathan.” Her mother looked up from her laptop at the kitchen table.

  “Oh, no!” Surely he hadn’t. “Why did he do that? When did he leave?”