Sacred Trust

“Grandma had an advance directive, Mom.”

“How can he just take it upon himself to decide who is and who isn’t worthy to live? Mother couldn’t have known what she was doing when she signed that form.” Tears filled Ivy’s eyes. “Oh, Mother.”

Mercy’s eyes grew moist, too. She’d thought they would have been drained of emotion months ago, but the stages of grief had continued to batter them. Right now confusion ran high, and Mercy knew Mom was exhausted and weak from too many nights of sleeplessness.

Ivy jerked another tissue from the box on an end table and blew her reddened nose. “I wish they hadn’t called you against my wishes.”

“It’s a good thing they did.”

Ivy stiffened at those words.

“She’s gone, Mom.”

Ivy’s face twisted into a mask of pain. “Mother wasn’t ready to die.”

Mercy closed the door behind her and took a seat on the nearby recliner, perching on the edge with her hands in her pockets. “We’re the ones who weren’t ready.”

Ivy turned away. “I can’t believe my own daughter, the learned doctor, cannot grasp the reality of an afterlife.”

Mercy suppressed a sigh. Now was not the time to bring up that old argument again, but if Mom had found peace in her so-called God these past few years, where was that peace now?

Ivy reached up toward her chest with both hands and bent forward, as if on a sob.

“Mom…?”

Ivy shook her head.

Mercy stepped up and laid a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Slowly Ivy straightened and turned around. Her face was as gray as the clouds gathering outside, but she nodded and patted Mercy’s hand.

“I’ll be fine. This just brings back so many memories.”

“I know.” Mercy’s father had also died a lingering, painful death five years ago. That was when Mom had suddenly started babbling about “finding Jesus.” At the time, Mercy was sure she would get over it, but she hadn’t. Where was her Jesus now?

Ivy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “That doctor is dangerous. He doesn’t hold human life sacred. He tried to manipulate me into allowing Mother to die. He was going to go over my head to keep from doing anything for her. Did he even try to save her?”

“He called a code. I saw it.”

“How hard did he try?”

“He did everything to resuscitate her. He had already begun when I arrived.”

“And he didn’t revive her at all?”

“No.”

“Is that normal for someone whose heart has just stopped?”

“It would be hard for me to say, Mom. Everyone is different. Most of the codes I get have been out for at least fifteen minutes.”

“I think he could have bought us more time. Do you know that he as much as told me he had other patients who needed him more than she did and that doing more for her would be inhumane?” Ivy put a hand to her chest again, then quickly dropped it.

Mercy held her mother’s dark gaze and said nothing.

“Jarvis didn’t want this new doctor here in the first place, did he?” Ivy asked. They both knew that Dr. Jarvis George, E.R. director, had been bitterly opposed to bring in a full-time physician for the E.R.

“No, and neither did I. But to be fair, I disagreed with the code, too. I even tried to stop him. He did what he felt he had to, and I can’t blame him for that. Granted, he could have been a little more tactful with you, but…”

“I’ll have a talk with Jarvis. Maybe he can put my mind at ease about this guy, but if he can’t, I may have to have a talk with administration.”

Lukas Bower could find his way around an unfamiliar hospital or a forest trail almost by instinct. Let him loose in a strange town, however, and he would be lost the moment he stepped out the door. By the time he entered the front door of the cantina—little more than a house with a small unlit sign in the front yard—where he was supposed to meet the others Wednesday night, the tiny place was nearly empty and a Hispanic waiter was clearing the tables. It still smelled wonderful, full of smoky spices and warmth.

Lauren waved at him from the far back left corner, where two smaller tables had been pushed together for a larger group. Much larger. Only Lauren was left.

“You’re late,” she called out, still waving for him to join her.

Lukas stood, staring at her in dismay. He had no desire to be rude, but he also had no desire to have dinner alone with a nurse who worked with him. Was he that late? Where were the others? Still, how could he turn around and walk out now?

He stepped hesitantly toward the back. “Sorry. I had to finish my charts; then I had to find this place. That turned out to be more of a challenge than I’d expected.” He glanced at his watch. It was eight-thirty and the shift had ended at seven. Okay, so he was pretty late. “How long have you been waiting?”

“It’s only been about twenty minutes since the last person left. Carol and Rita had to get home to their hubbies as soon as they ate. Connie and Ron, the ambulance team on duty tonight, got a call. Beverly and Buck had a lion to feed, and I know for a fact that Beverly took that Mustang by the car wash to clean it out.” Lauren indicated the cluttered stack of plates that had not yet been cleared. “Sorry, you’re stuck with just me.” She signaled the waiter and kicked out a chair across the table from her. She had released her long, blond hair from its rubber band, and wispy tendrils framed a face devoid of makeup. “I ordered for you, and they’ve been keeping it warm in back.”

Lukas wished she hadn’t done that. “Could they make it to go? I’ll just take it with me. There’s no reason for you to have to sit—”

“Sorry, too late.” She gestured toward the waiter, who carried out a sizzling platter of chicken, onion and peppers, and a steamer with hot flour tortillas. “I overheard you telling one of the patients today how much you loved authentic chicken fajitas, so I took the liberty of ordering them for you. Come on, sit down. They won’t taste nearly as good cold.”

This had been a stupid idea. Why had he agreed to come? But Lukas was hungry, and that hunger overrode his sense of caution. And this wasn’t a date. He pushed the chair back in that she had kicked out for him, and instead he took the chair next to it, in spite of the mess of cluttered dishes he had to move aside. He would not get lured into an intimate dinner for two, or even the appearance of one.

If Lauren took offense at his small act of rebellion, her expression hid it well. She leaned back and rested her feet on the rail of the chair he had discarded. “Dig in, Doc. I know you’re hungry. I don’t think you’ve eaten anything since lunch, have you?”

“Breakfast, actually. Late breakfast.” He bent his head in a short, silent blessing, then looked up to find Lauren nodding with approval. Big deal. The nurse in KC had pretended to approve of his faith, too, at first, until it got in the way of other things she wanted.

“Found a church yet?” Lauren asked, watching Lukas overstuff his first tortilla.

“Not yet. I haven’t had a chance.” He took a large bite, the force of which pushed half the meat and veggies back onto the plate from the wrap. The smoky heat so filled his mouth and senses that for a few seconds he didn’t realize Lauren had resumed talking.

“…Covenant Baptist, just about four blocks from where you live.”

Lukas shot her a wary glance as he chewed and swallowed. “You already know where I live?” He’d just been there a few days.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not checking up on you. The real estate agent who sold you the place is a friend of mine,” she explained as he took another bite and washed it down with water. “You don’t grow up in a small town like Knolls without getting to know most of the other natives. Everyone’s talking about the new full-time E.R. doc, and they probably all know where you live.”

Lukas gulped another bite without comment. He, too, was from a small town, and because of that he knew he probably wouldn’t be accepted here as one of them for twenty years.

“So do you think you’ll come?” she asked.

He stopped chewing and looked at her.