скачать книгу бесплатно
“Lovely to meet you, Ally. Welcome to our family meeting.” Ally was surprised by both the twinkle in the woman’s eye and the trace of sarcasm when she said, “Doc Junior here tells me it’s your job to reassure my parents that I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions about my health. I’m looking forward to hearing someone with the proper authority do that.”
Ally took in the two women huddled together off to one side. A beefy man with a gray buzz cut stood on the opposite side of the bed, not frowning, yet there was no trace of a smile, either. Massive arms folded over his muscled chest made his biceps bulge, and everything about him screamed military.
Flynn introduced the man and the older woman as Ginger’s parents, Jacob and Kate. The other woman was their younger daughter, Cara, Ginger’s sister.
Ally moved closer to Ginger. “I understand you’ve decided to forgo further treatment for your condition?”
“Correct.” A confident nod accompanied her response.
“I’m sorry, but I need to ask if you understand what that means. Even though I know that your oncologist, and probably Dr. Ramsey, have already gone over this with you, I’d like to talk—”
“Yes, let’s talk about it,” Kate broke in. “That’s all we’re asking, honey.”
“Any hope is still hope,” Cara chimed in.
“Talking some sense into her is all we want,” Jacob growled.
Oh, dear, this poor family.
“Platitudes are my favorite,” Ginger whispered. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gave her head a shake before settling a determined gaze on Ally. “I’m totally fine talking about it. With treatment, my odds of beating this are less than two percent. Treatment would consist of more brutal chemo. The first rounds left me helpless and miserable and incapacitated and nearly killed me. But if I opt out of the treatment I could have three or four or as many as six or even eight months with relative quality of life. Way, way better than the chemo version of quality I’ve suffered through already.
“I could smoke weed—sorry.” She gave her dad a pointed look before addressing Ally again. “I could legally partake of medical marijuana until I can no longer stand the pain. Then I’ll hook up to a morphine drip and sleep peacefully until I die with as much dignity as dying allows.”
“Stop talking about dying!” Cara barked, her tone bordering on a shout. “You have to fight, Ginger. Why won’t you fight?”
Kate choked on a sob. “Ginger, honey, Cara’s right. Please think about Ella. She needs her mother.”
Jacob stood his ground, menacing and gruff, his blue eyes settled on the wall above Ginger’s head. Ally’s heart went out to him; she wasn’t fooled by the man of steel routine. Why was it that the harder the shell, the more devastating the heartbreak seemed?
A passionate, circular conversation ensued, and Ally understood why Ginger had requested some help. She glanced at Flynn, whose only response was a gentle upward nudge of one brow.
Ally had experienced an uncommon amount of death in her life. Palliative care was one of her grandfather’s strong suits and Ally had shown a knack for assisting him at a very early age. She knew when a patient was making a decision for the wrong reason and when they were making it for the right one. As far as she knew, her intuition and experience had never steered her wrong.
Beside her, Ginger’s eyes were shining and filled with anguish. The sight caused an ache deep in Ally’s chest. She reached across and placed her hand over Ginger’s, lightly squeezing her fingers.
Ignoring the others, Ally asked, “So, Ginger, now that you’ve decided, what are you planning to do with the rest of your life?”
The room grew silent while Ginger’s eyes welled with tears. “You’re the first person to ask me that...” Dipping her chin, she nodded for a few seconds before swiping at a tear on her cheek. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“I’m sure you have. I know I would.”
“It even has a title, this last chapter of my life. It’s called Photographs and Memories, like the Jim Croce song. Do you know it? I’m plagiarizing, but I’ll be dead by the time anyone figures it out so let ’em sue me.”
Ally smiled. “Know it and love it. He’s one of my grandfather’s favorite singers.”
“I want a few more months of taking photos and making memories. One last glorious Alaskan summer...” Ginger swallowed and nodded as if to blink back more tears. “I want to spend time with my daughter and take photos to leave for her. I want us to do things and make memories and document them together. Memories that don’t include me sick and vomiting and so weak that I can’t even hold her or read to her or sing Jim Croce songs...”
Ally squeezed her hand while she gathered her thoughts, awed by her strength and bravery and the beautiful poetry of her words.
“What I don’t want...” She cleared her throat. “What I don’t want is to lie in bed wishing out the window, you know what I mean? Lying there dying and thinking about all the things I wish I was doing? I want to do them, live while I can. So, Ally, that’s what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
“Ginger, that sounds just lovely.” Ally lifted a shoulder. “I can’t imagine anything better.”
“Me, either.”
“You realize that it will be painful? That, in the end, it could possibly be more painful than if you chose chemotherapy? Physically, I mean, because the cancer will be allowed to grow. Chemotherapy kills your good cells, but it also kills the cancer cells and can prolong your life.”
“I do. Dr. Fulton, my oncologist in Glacier City, was brutally honest about that. I asked him to be because I want to be prepared. But I’ll have quality time, that’s the point.”
“Okay, good. You get it. Your daughter is lucky to have you. How old is she?”
“She’s eight.” Ginger reached toward the bedside table, picked up a frame and handed it to her. A photo collage, Ally realized, and in each and every image there was a petite girl with a heart-shaped face, wide smile and lively eyes that were nearly identical to her mother’s, right down to the glowing inquisitiveness in their startlingly blue depths. Some images featured the little girl alone, others included her with a happy and healthy Ginger, her grandparents, Aunt Cara and presumably other loved ones. In some, there was a fluffy gray cat.
“These photos are gorgeous. Dr. Ramsey is right about your talent. And your daughter is beautiful.”
“She is! And smart and kind and artistic and imaginative. All the things I dreamed my child would be.”
Ally stared into her eyes, pouring every bit of support she could manage into the look and the touch of her hand on Ginger’s. “I dream of those things for my daughter, too, if I’m ever lucky enough to have one.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Ginger whispered.
“You bet. Have you applied for your medical marijuana card yet? I know some doctors who specialize in this area. They can work with you and suggest strains that are symptom specific. It’s—”
“Wait! What? Aren’t you going to try and talk her out of this? Jacob, do something,” Kate demanded.
“Yeah!” Jacob erupted. “Hold on here for one minute! This is your solution? I thought doctors took an oath to save lives.”
Cara was looking at Flynn. “Dr. Ramsey, is it possible she doesn’t know what she’s saying? I’ve read about how chemo can affect the decision-making process. It can make people confused and—”
“Cara!” Ginger cried.
Eyes bright with tears, Cara turned toward her sister. “I’m sorry, Ginger. I’m so sorry. I just... I love you so much. And Ella...” Her voice broke with a sob.
“It really wouldn’t be like that, Jacob,” Ally said calmly. “I know it’s easy for me to say because Ginger isn’t my daughter, or sister, but I can tell you that I’ve seen hundreds of people die in my lifetime, both working for my grandfather’s medical practice and from my time as a medic in the Army. The acceptance of an inevitability we all have to face at some point isn’t necessarily giving up. It can be a way of taking control. And, without exception, it’s one of the bravest acts I’ve ever witnessed.”
The room went quiet. Jacob peered at her as if he’d only just seen her for the first time. Kate looked thoughtful. Cara’s sobs quieted. Ginger was beginning to look tired, and Ally didn’t blame her.
“How about if the four of us, you and Kate and Cara and me, talk about this down the hall? There’s a private room right next to the lounge.”
“Thank you,” Ginger told her before fixing a pleading gaze on Cara.
Ally watched a light dawn in Cara’s red-rimmed eyes and felt a rush of relief when the woman began nodding. “Mom and Dad, let’s do that. Let’s go and let Ginger rest. I think it might be a good idea to hear what Ally has to say.” Tugging her bag up from the floor, she adjusted the strap over her shoulder and added, almost like an afterthought, “And we can say some things, too. Ask questions and...yeah. This will be good.”
Nicki, the nurse who’d briefed Ally, seemed to appear out of nowhere. Tucking an arm through Kate’s, she led her toward the exit. “Come with me. I’ll show you guys where to go.”
Ally’s back had been to the door, so she realized someone else had joined them only when a man stepped forward, presumably to allow the family to pass. That’s when she saw him clearly: Tag James—every handsome, frowning inch of him.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u0016d090-2868-56bb-81ea-65b2bb0d4795)
TAG STOOD BESIDE the helicopter and watched Ally push through the doors onto the rooftop landing pad. Perfect timing—the patient was being loaded. She’d secured her silky black hair into a messy bun and tendrils were slipping loose in the force of the late spring breeze. A messenger-style bag hung diagonally across her body to rest against one hip, and she’d traded her hospital blazer for a sporty fleece jacket. She looked relaxed and happy.
And why wouldn’t she be? She’d just worked a magical spell on Jacob Weil. Not that he could blame the guy. Tag had been rather spellbound himself. Emotion stirred in his chest as he thought about her compassion and empathy for Ginger.
Flynn followed a few seconds later, took Ally by the elbow and steered her off to one side where they conversed for a moment before Flynn patted Ally on the shoulder. She pivoted and headed in Tag’s direction, and an almost panicky feeling assailed him as he reluctantly allowed himself to acknowledge just how pretty she was. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, and his lack of self-control left him vaguely appalled. It dawned on him that she was likely younger than his baby sisters.
“Ready, pilot?” She blew by him, throwing a tentative grin his way, and continued to the passenger side of the chopper.
He felt his jaw drop at the teasing remark. Flashes of her comments about his being too slow to take off spurred him into action. Once on board, he found her already checking on the patient. She slid Tag a glance and the playful half smile on her face made him go soft.
He couldn’t resist a little teasing of his own. “You’re not back there smearing mud all over him, are you? Cuz I think he’s already set.”
Her gaze snapped up to meet his, and the laugh that followed had Tag feeling like he’d won a little prize. She scurried forward to her seat.
“So, you take this strap—” He bit off the explanation of how to work the intricate seat belt when he realized that she already knew. He’d never seen anyone who could get buckled in faster than he. Until now.
Cocking her head, she gave him an inquisitive look. “You were saying?”
He couldn’t help but grin. He buckled up and after a thorough run-through of preflight checks they were ready for takeoff.
Adjusting his headset, he asked, “Hear me okay?”
“Roger that,” she responded, and within minutes they were off the ground and on the way.
Seconds after he’d settled the helicopter at their altitude and cruising speed, Ally’s voice came through his headset. “Before we start making awkward small talk I need to say something.”
“Okay?”
“I want to apologize.”
Sparing her a glance, he noticed how intently she was staring ahead, brow softly furrowed, and something warmed inside him because he knew she’d been rehearsing this.
“You were right the other day when you said I owed you respect as a medical professional. You were right, and I didn’t give it to you and I’m sorry about that. I’m not usually so ruffled under pressure. I’ve heard—and I learned the hard way—that emergencies feel different when they’re family. I don’t like excuses for bad behavior, but that’s mine for being short with you on the plane.”
“That’s understandable. There’s a difference between a reason and an excuse, though, and I understand—”
“Hold on, please,” she interrupted gently. “I’m not finished. In addition to excuses, I’m not great at apologies, either. I don’t have to be, because I don’t make very many mistakes. But I’ve practiced this one so I’d like to get it out.
“I was going to wait for our meeting with Flynn, but you haven’t scheduled it yet, and I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us today, not to mention that an emergency could happen at any time that would force us together again where on the spot decisions will have to be made.”
“Ha. That must be nice, the not making mistakes part.”
“Oh, I’m talking about my professional life, like where my job is concerned. In my personal life, I should probably just start every conversation with an apology.”
He laughed.
“You laugh, but it’s true. Interpersonal communication is not my strong suit. When you came to my office that morning, I’d just come from Dr. Boyd’s office, where he gave me his opinion on the use of traditional medicine in his hospital.”
“He’s very old-school.”
“And I’m new-school, which technically is older school, but... Regardless, I’m more of a blend of the two, but I don’t think he’s interested in blending. Anyway, I am sorry for not speaking to you more professionally that day, as well. I promise it’s not normally like me. If anything, I get accused of being too professional, too...stoic.”
“Okay. Well, then, I’ll return the favor and admit it wasn’t my finest moment when I brought up your age, which inadvertently implied a lack of experience.”
“Thank you. Apology accepted. That is a bit of a hot-button issue with me. It gets...old, for lack of a better word. I try to let my actions speak to my experience and usually it works. But I have my moments.”
Tag resisted the inclination to point out that only experience would make things easier, but as he worked through her explanation he wasn’t so sure. He tried to put himself in her position as a woman and a young, beautiful Native one at that. It was impossible to imagine what she went through, dealing with people’s doubts and preconceived notions, and constantly having to prove herself. In truth, he’d probably be a whole lot more defensive than she was.
A million questions flashed through his mind about her age, her experiences and her life, which he suspected had already been an interesting one. But he wasn’t about to ask any of them now. He didn’t want her to think he had more doubts. He’d already messed that up once. Better to let his actions speak for him.
“I appreciate you laying all this out on the table. I tell you what, let’s work it out later when we can talk more...face-to-face, so to speak.”
A soft sigh sounded in his earphones, giving him the impression she liked the layer of distance the onboard communications provided. “Okay.”
“So, I don’t know if Flynn mentioned it to you, but we’re bringing my sister Iris back with us from Anchorage.”
“He did not mention it. How nice. Does she live there?”
“No, she’s flying in from Washington, DC.”
“She lives in DC?”
“She was living there and going to graduate school. Just finished and now she’s looking for her dream job.”
“Hmm. So, I’ve met two of your sisters, a couple of cousins and I think your cousin-in-law? How many of you are there, anyway?”
“Um, a lot.” Tag hadn’t known she’d met any of his family. He wondered what they’d thought of her. “Tons of cousins. Six kids in my immediate family. Me, Shay, Hannah and then the triplets, Hazel, Seth and Iris.”
“Triplets?”
“Flynn didn’t tell you Iris is a triplet?”
A glance at her told him she was pondering that. “No, he didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever met a triplet. Where are the other two?”
“Seth lives in Rankins. But he’s a professional fisherman, so he’s gone a lot, out on the water. Works with my dad. Hazel is a travel writer and blogger. Very adventurous. She’s currently in Mongolia.”
“Mongolia? Wow. That is utterly cool.”
He laughed. “I think so. Our dad? Not so much. He doesn’t understand Hazel’s desire to constantly put herself in harm’s way.”
“You probably get her, though, don’t you? The adventure part, anyway?”
A bolt of surprise went through him and it must have shown, because she added, “Pilot is not exactly a low-risk occupation.”
“But I’m a paramedic, too. Saving people cancels out the danger.”
Her husky laughter filled his headphones and worked right into him, into places that had him thinking about her in a way he knew he shouldn’t. Too young for you, James, he told himself. Too young and too...what? Different? Yes. Probably. At this point, he hoped so, because a reason beyond their age difference would help to put him off.
“Nope, doesn’t work that way, cowboy. Floatplanes, dual props, gliders, helicopters all scream risk taker. Paramedic just says you also like taking charge and helping people.”
