The Sheriff's Christmas Surprise Part 8

"Got a better one in mind now, Santiago," Hudson told him, staring unabashedly at the woman his fellow sheriff had brought with him.

Rick didn't have to guess the subject of the other sheriff's new dream. His grin widened.

The grin remained even as he got back into his car. Olivia was already inside, buckled up and ready to go. When she saw Rick's expression, she couldn't help questioning it.

"What?"

Rick started up the car and pulled out. "Nothing," he said, diminis.h.i.+ng its importance. Then, because she continued watching him, he said, "Josh's got something new to dream about."

Olivia sighed. The man talked in riddles, giving her bits and pieces instead of a whole answer. What little patience she had was all but gone. "What?"

"You."

He got a kick out of saying that, even though he had a feeling it wasn't being received in the same spirit. The woman needed to learn how to laugh at herself. How to lighten up a little bit.

"Unlike Forever, Beaumont doesn't get all that many people pa.s.sing through," he said. "It's usually a while between new faces."

From what she'd seen, the town looked to be the size of a postage stamp. And it was off the beaten path, which was probably why Don had chosen to pa.s.s through it on the way to who-knew-where. She had no doubt that the town enjoyed very little variety. One day, most likely, was pretty much like another.

"How do they stand it?" she asked.

Not only did the good people of Beaumont "stand it," they seemed to thrive on it, he observed. "They find ways to entertain themselves. I suspect they'll be talking about your sister and her boyfriend and the accident for some time to come."

Olivia couldn't imagine a life like that. Couldn't imagine submitting to it willingly. She suppressed a s.h.i.+ver that threatened to dart down her spine.

"The boredom would kill me."

Rick laughed. "Everybody's gotta die of something." He spared her a long, appreciative glance. "You look like you'd be pretty hearty to me."

Just how deeply had this man a.n.a.lyzed her? And why? She wanted to ask, to have him explain himself and what he meant by some of the things he'd said. But she told herself not to go there. Knowing would only lead to more dialogue and, just possibly, more insight into the man in the driver's seat. She didn't want more insight; she just wanted to find Tina and get the h.e.l.l out of Dodge, or, in this case, Forever.

Olivia s.h.i.+fted restlessly. "How much farther is it to Pine Ridge?"

He did a quick calculation, glancing at his odometer. "Ten miles as the crow flies."

That would be a straight line. Almost nothing worked out to be a straight line when it came to traveling. Paths were always comprised of twists and turns. "And if the crow is driving a sheriff's car?"

He grinned. "Depends on whether or not he can reach the gas pedal." He saw that his response aggravated her. The lady had a short fuse. He wondered if she erupted for other reasons as well.

Why was he thinking about that? He hadn't had those kinds of thoughts, or questions, since his fiancee had died a week before their wedding. Why now?

"Same amount," he finally told her. "The land's flat."

"I hadn't noticed," Olivia cracked.

The monotony of the road was enough to put a driver to sleep, she thought. Was that what happened? Had Don fallen asleep behind the wheel and crashed into the utility pole?

She needed answers.

"I doubt if there's very much you don't notice, Olivia," Rick commented without looking in her direction.

As a trial lawyer, she'd learned to question everything, to hold everything suspect. Nothing was ever taken at face value, which was both her loss and her strength.

"Trying to flatter me, Sheriff?"

Someone else might have taken offense at that, but he didn't. "Calling it the way I see it, that's all. Besides," he pointed out, "in case it hasn't occurred to you, there's nothing to be gained by flattering you, Olivia."

Impatience ate away at her. Theirs was the only vehicle on the road. And he was going just under sixty. What was the purpose of staying under the speed limit out here?

"Can this thing go any faster?" she asked shortly.

"It can," he replied, continuing to drive at the same speed.

You would think the man could take a hint, she thought, her frustration growing. "In this lifetime?" she prodded.

He glanced in her direction. "Are you asking me to speed?"

Was everything black and white for this man? She hadn't thought that men like Rick Santiago still existed. Law-abiding to a d.a.m.n fault.

"I'm asking you to get to the hospital before I start collecting social security checks."

"Don't worry, your sister's stable."

She frowned. "More positive thinking?" Olivia asked sarcastically.

He made no comment about her tone, simply said what he felt she needed to know. "Just before we left for Beaumont, when I went into the office, I had Alma call Pine Ridge Memorial and ask about your sister."

"Why didn't you say something?" she demanded.

She had that edge to her voice again, he noted. "I thought I just did."

"I mean sooner," she stressed.

He lifted the shoulder closer to her in a half shrug. "If I did, you might've thought I was making it up just to get you to calm down."

She supposed that he had a point, but if she followed that line of reasoning, why had he picked now to tell her? "And now?"

"Now we're pretty much almost there. It'll help you hang on for the last leg of the trip." He paused, debating. But she would find out this part, too. She might as well be prepared for it. "There is one thing, though."

Olivia braced herself. "What?"

"According to the hospital, your sister hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"She's in a coma?" Olivia cried incredulously. All she could think of was that some people never woke up from a coma. "Why didn't you at least tell me that sooner?" she demanded.

"Because it would upset you-just like it's doing now," he said. "And I figured you had enough to deal with."

She began getting a claustrophobic feeling. "So you decided to appoint yourself my guardian?" she demanded.

He sounded as low-key as she was uptight. "Just trying to help," he told her mildly.

"I don't need any help," Olivia snapped.

He shrugged, letting her declaration slide. "Whatever you say."

She took a deep breath, struggling for control. Struggling to keep from feeling overwhelmed. G.o.d, but she wished there was someone to turn to. But there hadn't been anyone there for her for more than ten years now.

She should be used to this by now, used to soldiering on alone. And, for the most part, she was. But that didn't make times like this any easier. And it didn't keep her from longing, every once in a while, for a handy pair of shoulders to lean on....

And what's the sheriff? Chopped liver? He just tried to help and instead of thanking him, you bit his head off and handed it to him.

Taking another deep breath, she let it out slowly, then glanced in the sheriff's direction. She turned her face forward before she spoke. "I'm sorry, I do appreciate everything you're doing, Sheriff. I didn't mean to lose my temper."

Yeah, you did, he thought, but he left that unsaid. "Apology accepted," he told her. "By the way, that's Pine Ridge just up ahead."

A sense of excitement and foreboding mingled inside her as Olivia sat up straighter, straining to get her first glimpse of Pine Ridge. With any luck, maybe her sister had come out of the coma and she could take her back home.

Startled, she realized that Santiago's optimism was infectious after all.

Chapter Eight.

For a relatively small town-Olivia judged that it was perhaps a shade or two larger than Forever-Pine Ridge's hospital was surprisingly modern in appearance. The inside of the building looked fresh and crisp, as if it had been recently renovated. Two storied, it boasted of "over eighty beds," six of which were dedicated to the intensive care unit.

The ICU was where the attending physician, a general surgeon named Dr. Owen Baker, had placed her sister after he and another surgeon had finished operating on Tina for close to five hours.

Feeling increasingly agitated and stressed, Olivia forced herself to let Rick take over. He was the one who approached the woman at the admissions registration desk to ask about her sister. She knew that had she been more clearheaded, she would have resented his acting on her behalf. But now a part of her was grateful to him.

Dr. Baker had to be paged more than once before he finally came to the ICU area to speak to them. Or rather, to her, Olivia silently amended since she sincerely doubted that Santiago was even mildly interested in her sister's condition, despite his disclaimer about taking a personal interest in the people he found himself dealing with.

Narrating a quick synopsis for them-the six-foot-four, prematurely gray surgeon was obviously anxious to be on his way-Dr. Baker concluded by saying, "And now we just have to wait and see. It's out of our hands. We've done everything humanly possible for your sister."

She wanted to ask if he was referring specifically to himself and the other surgeon, or lumping together the staff as well. And was he thus stepping away from the situation, leaving it "in G.o.d's hands," the catchall phrase she felt people used to absolve themselves of any guilt.

Personally, she had decided at her parents' funeral that G.o.d had better things to do than to dabble in her life. Whatever happened to her-and to Tina-was on her, and she was the one responsible for their lives.

And how's that working out for you?

She wanted to ask Baker more questions, to ask him how well he and the other surgeon fared in their surgeries. Were they usually successful? But questions like that often sounded bitter and, at the very least, antagonistic. It would have sounded as if she was taking out her helpless frustration on the surgeon when the man had probably done his best.

She wanted to get back to familiar ground, take Tina home.

"I'd like to take my sister back to Dallas. Can she be moved?" Olivia asked, fully expecting the man to say yes.

Maybe it came off sounding condescending, but there were top surgeons in Dallas. No doubt any one of them was better equipped to help Tina than a doctor in this one-and-a-half-horse town.

To her surprise, Dr. Baker shook his head and said firmly, "Absolutely not-unless your goal is to kill your sister. She's definitely not strong enough to be moved. There were serious internal injuries. She has several cracked ribs, we barely saved her right lung, her liver was badly bruised and we had to remove her spleen-among other things."

She could feel Rick watching her. He probably thought she was crazy, too. It didn't matter. She just wanted what was best for Tina, what would give her sister the best chance at recovery.

"Even by helicopter?" Olivia pressed, determined to get Tina the best of care, not have her sister languish here.

A half smile curved the surgeon's thin lips. "Not even by a transporter beam."

Great, the man's a science fiction aficionado. Just the quality she was looking for in a physician. "When can I move her?" she asked, not bothering to bite back her impatience.

"When she gets stronger," Baker answered simply, then glanced at his watch.

She knew that was for her benefit, but she still had questions. "And when do you think that'll be?"

"A few days, a week, a month-"

"A month?" Olivia echoed incredulously, staring at the man.

Dr. Baker seemed unmoved by her distress. "Everyone gets well at their own pace." His pager went off and he looked relieved to be able to turn his attention away from his patient's pushy sister. "Sorry, I really have to get back to the emergency room. I should have been back there already," Baker said.

Not waiting for her to say anything further, Tina's surgeon turned on his heel and hurried away. He nodded at Rick before he left.

"He's not sorry at all," Olivia commented to Rick, annoyed, as she watched Dr. Baker disappear around a corner.

Rick's response surprised her. "Can't say I really blame him, the way you were grilling him."

His comment stung. But then, why would she expect loyalty from a man who was little more than a stranger to her?

"I wasn't grilling him," she protested.

Rick laughed shortly. "If you'd grilled him any more, you could've put barbecue sauce on the man and called him done."

Olivia frowned at his interpretation. "Very colorful."

"Accurate," he countered. This wasn't going to turn out well and he had no desire to argue with her. "Why don't we go and see your sister instead of picking fights with the people who are helping her?"

She noticed that he said "helping" rather than "trying to help." More optimism on his part? She found herself wis.h.i.+ng she could share in his take on things. It might go a long way in rea.s.suring her. Because, at the moment, all she was feeling was exceedingly nervous. And seriously worried.

"Okay," she agreed.

She did want to see Tina, no matter what condition her sister was in. If nothing else, she wanted Tina to know she was there for her. She'd read somewhere that even when people were in comas they were aware of their surroundings. She could only hope that was true.

"For the record, I wasn't trying to pick a fight," she told Rick. "I just wanted to light a fire under the good doctor, get him moving."

"Looked to me like he'd been moving all day. You're being too hard on the man." The sheriff looked at her significantly. "Not everyone is a streak of lightning across the sky."