Where the Forest Meets the Stars(43)
“Lacey has called twice,” he said. “First she said we needed police. When she heard the gunfight, she called back and said they needed to send lots of police and ambulances.”
“What if they don’t get here in time?” Jo wept.
“They will.”
“No one finds this road!”
“The sheriff knows where it is. And Lacey said she’d call back to tell them Ursa is hurt.” He pulled off his T-shirt. “Use this to put pressure on the wound. Press firmly, but not so much that you hurt her.” He grabbed his gun again.
Jo held the shirt on the awful wound, uncertain of how hard to press. “What if there’s an exit wound?”
“There probably is,” he said. “He shot at close range.”
Keeping pressure on the front wound, Jo slid her hand under Ursa’s right side. She felt blood oozing out of her back. The bullet could have entered from either side. She stripped off her T-shirt and pushed it under Ursa’s body, keeping pressure on both wounds. “You’re going to be okay, love bug,” she said, touching her lips to Ursa’s cheek. “Stay with Gabe and me, okay? Try hard to stay with us.”
Ursa was awake, her eyes focused on Jo. “D-don’t cry,” she said through chattering teeth. “Jo . . . stop crying!”
“I can’t,” Jo said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Ursa stared into her eyes. “Are you c-crying because you love me?”
“Yes! I love you so much!”
Ursa smiled. “That’s it . . . the fifth miracle. That was what I want . . . wanted m-most, and I m-made it happen.”
Jo cried harder, and tears spilled from the corners of Ursa’s eyes.
“Jo . . .”
“What?”
“If I die, don’t be sad. It’s n-not me,” she said.
“You aren’t going to die!”
“I know. I can g-go back now. I saw five miracles. Don’t be sad if it happens.”
“You’re staying here! I want to be your foster parent and maybe adopt you. I was going to tell you . . .”
“You were?” Her eyes brightened. She looked like familiar happy Ursa.
“You’ll come live with Tabby and me in the pretty house. Would you like that?”
“Yes . . . but I feel bad. I might . . . I might have to go back in the stars.”
“Here they come!” Gabe said.
Jo heard a convoy of distant sirens. But the sound was too distant. Ursa had closed her eyes.
“Ursa?” Jo said. “Ursa, stay with me!”
“Stars . . . ,” Ursa murmured. “Jo . . . I see stars.”
“Ursa, no! Stay with us!” She tried to keep pressure on Ursa’s wounds, but her arms had no strength. Her legs buckled. She collapsed on her side and fell onto her back. She saw stars, too. Where was the bear? Where was Ursa Major? Which stars were those?
Gabe’s hands lifted her. “Jo! You’re losing a lot of blood! Your pants are soaked!”
He was right. She’d been fighting the fog in her mind since the man had shot her. She closed her eyes and let the darkness come. She would find Ursa. She would find her, even if she had to climb into the sky and pull her down from the stars herself.
30
Ursa. Ursa. Ursa. It was the mantra that drew her out of anesthesia. When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t surprised to see a hospital room. She wasn’t afraid either. The environment was all too familiar.
A middle-aged nurse who’d been fiddling with her IV bag looked at her. “Awake already? I didn’t expect that for another hour at least.”
“Do you know if the little girl who came in with me is okay?”
“You’re asking the wrong person.”
“Meaning, they told you not to say.”
“How do you feel?” the nurse asked, lifting Jo’s wrist to find her pulse.
“Well enough to be told what happened.”
“Do you know what happened to you?” She probably had to establish that Jo could handle the news.
“I was shot in the back of the leg.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“In Marion?”
“You’re in Saint Louis.”
“Saint Louis?”
“Don’t you remember? You came to this hospital by medevac.”
Now that she knew, she did remember. She’d thought the loud whir of the helicopter had been part of her delirium. “What’s going on with my leg?”
“You received several units of blood, and the surgery involved vascular and tissue repair. The surgeon will explain when he comes by.”
“Is a man named Gabriel Nash here?”
“Are you feeling up to seeing visitors?”
“Yes, I want to see him.”
“Are you sure you’re well enough?”
“Yes!”
The nurse left the room. A few minutes later, the door opened. It wasn’t Gabe. A uniformed officer and a man dressed in a white shirt and khaki pants entered. Each of the men wore a gun, which meant the one in plain clothes must be a detective. They were both in their midforties but opposite in looks. The deputy was about six feet tall with dark eyes and short black hair, and the detective was five inches shorter with light eyes and blondish hair worn in a stubby ponytail. Their solemn faces made Jo wish she hadn’t awakened.
“Joanna Teale?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“I’m Detective Kellen out of Effingham, and this is Chief Deputy McNabb from Vienna.”
“I need to know about Ursa. Did she die? Just tell me.”
“How did you know her name is Ursa?” he asked.
“She told me.”
“Did she tell you her whole name?”
“Are you really going to do this to me? You’re going to ask me a hundred questions without answering the only one that matters?”
“We can’t answer because she’s still in surgery or post-op. We don’t know if she’ll pull through.”
She put her hands over her face, the only privacy available. She thought Ursa had died on the Kinney property. “Is she here—in this hospital?”
After a pause, the detective said, “Yes.”
The other cop, McNabb, shot Kellen a disapproving glance. For some reason he hadn’t wanted the detective to relay Ursa’s whereabouts.
“Do you know why those men shot Ursa?” Jo asked.
“Please let us ask the questions, Ms. Teale,” Deputy McNabb said.
“Are you feeling well enough?” Kellen asked.
She consented, and for the next twenty minutes, she answered their many questions. McNabb, who’d been at the crime scene, mostly asked about the shooting, while Kellen focused more on Jo’s history with Ursa. Though they didn’t say it, many of their questions were clearly aimed at corroborating statements Gabe had made. Jo tried to keep him out of her story as much as possible, but the two cops brought him up frequently. “Was Gabriel Nash there when that happened?” the detective often asked.
When Jo talked about Ursa and how she’d come to live with her, it all sounded wrong. She saw the judgment in the men’s eyes and heard it in their questions. As the interrogation continued, Jo began to think she might be in serious trouble with the law. The anxiety, combined with the many other stresses on her mind and body, wore her out quickly. The police saw she was losing coherence and decided to quit for the time being.
“Is Gabe here?” Jo asked before they left.
“He was an hour ago,” Kellen said. “Get some rest.” He and the deputy walked out the door.
Jo pushed her call button. “Is there some way you can see if a visitor is in the waiting room and bring him here?” Jo asked the nurse when she arrived.
“Is it a family member?”
“No.”
“For now, only family is allowed in.”
“Wouldn’t that be up to me?”
“You’ll have to speak with your doctor.”
“Okay, let me speak to him.”
“I can’t say when he’ll be here. He’ll see you when he makes rounds.”
The hospital runaround. Jo knew it well. But she was too tired to wrangle. She quit fighting the drugs and succumbed to sleep.
When she woke hours later, she discovered she’d missed the doctor. She was desperate for news about Ursa, but she had a new nurse who was even less communicative than the last one. The pain medication the nurse gave her put her under again.
Jo thought she was dreaming when she felt lips touch her cheek. She won a battle with her heavy eyelids and looked into familiar green eyes. “Tabby!”
“This hospital thing is getting old, Jojo,” Tabby said. She looked toward a dark window and said, “Go on, kiss her. She needs it.” She stepped aside, and there was Gabe, his face haggard and shadowed with a beard. At first he and Jo could only stare at one another.
“Come on, Nash, just kiss her,” Tabby said.
He leaned over and held her. They embraced for a long time before they obeyed Tabby with a short kiss. “How did you get in?” Jo asked. “They’ve been withholding visitors since I woke up this morning.”
“Tabby did it,” Gabe said. “In all of two minutes, she got the gatekeepers to open the door, and I’ve been trying all day.”
“How did you do it?” she asked Tabby.
“I said you’re an orphan and cancer survivor who has no one to lean on but us.”