ONLY DREAMS OF YOU

--- Joan Emerson (AE215jfe@aol.com)

 

“What?!” he sputtered in stunned disbelief as he spun around to face the young man standing in the doorway.  “You can’t be serious!  How could they possibly . . . . . . . .”

 

Ignoring the tirade, he muttered, “Dunno,” with an offhanded shrug of his shoulders.  “But now y’know,” he added.  He understood the threat better than most and he’d come to deliver the warning; now he slipped out the door, melting into the night just as silently as he had arrived. 

 

Doctor Kelly Brackett sighed heavily, momentarily caught in the grip of bewildered disbelief.  It was, however, only the very briefest of hesitations as the dawning realization that he had to act NOW propelled him across the small office and through the door. 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Dixie McCall’s deep blue eyes danced as she glanced across the table.  “Three weeks in Paris sounds just heavenly,” she sighed with a warm smile.  “You’ll have a wonderful time!”

 

Joe Early took another quick sip of his rapidly-cooling coffee and returned the smile.  “I’m sure we will.  Julie’s looking forward to spending some time with Edward.”

 

Dixie nodded.  “You know,” she thoughtfully mused, “it’s really nice that your family is close again.”

 

“It’s not something I thought I’d ever see,” Joe offered quietly.  “But I can’t say I’m unhappy with things the way they are now.”

 

“Well, all of you rambling around Paris together for awhile isn’t going to hurt a bit,” she speculated as she looked at him over the top of her coffee cup. 

 

“I suppose not,” Joe agreed with a grin.  Glancing at his watch, he added, “I’d better get going,” as he drained the cup and pushed his chair back from the table.

 

“Have a wonderful time,” Dixie instructed as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.  “And take lots of pictures!”

 

“Meaghan’s in charge of the picture-taking,” Joe chuckled as he straightened up and headed for the door.  “Judging from the number of rolls of film she’s gotten, you’ll be knee-deep in them!”    

 

Dixie watched the break room door close behind him.  Sighing, she finished her own coffee, rinsed out the cup, and headed back to work.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Spur-of-the-moment had never been Kelly Brackett’s strong suit, but the current situation did not offer him any time in which he might leisurely consider his options.  As he barreled through the door of his office, he settled on what seemed to him to be the only possible plan of action and in the face of his rapidly-mounting concern, he strode determinedly down the hallway, heading toward the nurses’ station. 

 

He pulled up short to keep from crashing into the gurney being wheeled around the corner.  Long years of medical training asserted themselves, taking center stage over the doctor’s current distracted state of mind, and he focused his attention on the patient.  “What’ve you got?” he asked the attendant.

 

Shrugging, the man hesitantly offered, “Respiratory distress,” as they stopped in the middle of the hallway and Kell bent over to examine the patient.

 

“Bill . . . . . . . .”  Surprise echoed in his voice; he recognized the patient as one of their most stalwart volunteers.  How many times had he made things easier for the staff by playing with the children or sitting with a frightened parent, offering consolation and reassurance?  He spoke softly.  “What’s the problem?  What happened?”

 

“Can’t breathe too well,” Bill wheezed with obvious difficulty.  His breathing was ragged, his distress palpable; this couldn’t wait.

 

Kell glanced down the hallway.  Dixie had been moving toward them, but she’d stopped in front of Treatment Room Three and was now pushing on the door.

 

“Who’s available?” Kell queried anxiously.

 

Surprised, she replied, “You’re it,” as the attendants moved the gurney past them and into the treatment room.  “Joe’s already gone; Adam’s with a patient in Five and Mike’s in One.  There’s no one else . . . . . . . .”

 

Kell glanced toward the door as the attendants came out and headed for the ambulance entrance.  She’d left him no choice now; any delay in treating Bill would almost certainly cost him his life.  As he moved into the doorway he reluctantly abandoned his hastily-made plans --- no matter what the cost, he simply couldn’t turn away and leave a patient to die.

 

Squaring his shoulders, he spoke without looking directly at her.  “You might as well leave,” he said, his voice suddenly cold and harsh.  Still keeping his eyes averted, he took a deep breath.  He spoke with resolve, his chilled voice sounding rather venomous.  “And don’t bother coming back . . . . . . . . I don’t want you around any more.”

 

Caught completely off-guard, Dixie looked at him, incredulous.  “What?”

 

“I don’t care where you go . . . . . . . . or what you do,” he continued as he moved away.  “Just . . . . . . . get . . . . . . . . out.”  The treatment room door swished closed behind him.  

 

Staggered, Dixie stood frozen in place in the hallway, fighting to catch her breath.  The echo of his icy words rang in her ears; hot  tears stung her eyes.  Unnoticed, the tears spilled over to streak her cheeks as she turned and fled.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Betty Royers had worked in Emergency longer than almost all of the current staff.  Yet, had she not heard Kell’s harsh directive to Dixie with her own ears, she wouldn’t have believed it possible for him to actually say such a thing, especially to Dixie.  She looked at Adam in astonishment as they came out of the treatment room.  Neither spoke until they’d reached counter at the nurses’ station.

 

Numb, Betty collapsed onto the stool as she mumbled, “How could Kell do that to her?”

 

Adam’s eyes blazed with anger.  He’d gotten off to a rather bad start with Dixie when he first came to Rampart, but he’d learned first-hand to respect her competency as a nurse and to appreciate her compassionate and caring nature.  Finally, he  had come to count her as one of his closest friends.  Now he felt vaguely voyeuristic, as if he’d stumbled onto a deep, dark secret part of her life that she’d kept hidden away from her colleagues.  Judging by her reaction, he concluded that the scene they’d witnessed was not a regular sort of happening in her relationship with Kell; nevertheless, his anger toward the doctor was fueled by the complete devastation he’d seen in her eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mike Morton asked his colleague in concern as he came up to the counter.  “You look . . . . . . . .”

 

“Our esteemed boss just threw Dixie out of the hospital!” 

 

“Kell threw Dixie out?  Come on!” Mike laughed.  “No way!”

 

A rather withering sort of look from Betty cut off his laugher. 
You can’t be serious,” he said even as the realization that they were dawned on him.  “Why?”

 

Making no attempt to curb his rising anger, Adam spat out an indignant, “Hhhmmmmppphhhh,” as he stormed off.

 

“Haven’t got a clue,” Betty shrugged as Mike looked to her for an explanation.  “He’s in charge,” she added as she turned to the work at hand.  “I guess it’s really none of our business.”  She said nothing further, leaving Mike to join them in their confusion.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Dixie’s thoughts were in turmoil, distracting her, and she drove along automatically without giving any particular thought to the task.  In some corner of her mind she observed the traffic light turn red and automatically came to a stop at the limit line, but she never noticed the young man on the sidewalk until he had pulled open the car door and shoved his way into the driver’s seat. 

 

It was far too late when she realized what was happening and, although she put up a good fight, he was stronger and had the advantage of surprise.  She clawed at the hands around her throat to no avail; her world turned grey as consciousness slipped away.  The last thing she heard was the malevolent sound of his laughter. 

 

He slammed the car into gear and sped off. 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“The fish’re bitin’ good up at Ellwood Creek,” Javier observed.  “Wanna head on up there and stake out a good spot?”

 

“Sure,” nodded Carlos.  “Nothin’ else to do anyway.”

 

Javier laughed as the two of them gathered up their fishing gear in the pre-dawn darkness and tossed it into the back of the pickup truck.  They climbed in and headed north.  Theirs was a small town, one of those places where everyone knew everyone; a comfortable place where nothing much ever happened.  With any luck at all . . . . . . . . and if the big fish really were biting . . . . . . . . their catch would be the talk of the town for the next few days.  

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

With a sigh of relief, Kell stretched his aching muscles.  He’d been able to stabilize Bill and had just sent him upstairs to critical care.  He looked up as Betty came into the treatment room.

 

“Do you need anything, Doctor?” she asked.

 

The tone of her voice surprised him.  “Something wrong, Betty?” he asked as he shook his head in reply to her query. 

 

“Not with me,” she replied stonily as she marched out the door.

 

Now that the medical emergency had been dealt with, Kell allowed himself to once again focus on the larger problem at hand.  He shrugged, dismissing the discussion.  Preoccupied with his concerns, he gave Betty Royers no further thought; he headed down the corridor toward his office.  

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

He hit her again and she stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  He let her fall, taking advantage of her defenselessness, slamming his fist into her face and then viciously kicking her as she hit the ground.  Somehow, as waves of pain washed over her, she came to the realization that she would never leave this place.  A sadness engulfed her at that thought, causing her to feel a pain even more agonizing than the physical pain she now endured.  A pain born of the dawning comprehension that all the ordinary things, all the yet-to-be special moments and times would be lost to her forever.  As he continued his savage assault in his quest to take her life away from her, a part of her mind wondered if anyone would ever know . . . . . . . . or care . . . . . . . . what had happened to her.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Doc George!”  Grateful to have caught sight of the doctor, the young man called out as he hurried across the sparsely populated waiting room.

 

Doctor George Medford turned at the sound of his name.  The rather disheveled appearance of the young man startled him.  “Carlos!  What happened?  Are you okay?” 

 

“This lady,” he said with a wave of his arms, “she’s hurt real bad.”  He spun around just in time to see Javier, cradling the woman in his arms, coming through the entrance.  The doctor grabbed a gurney and moved toward the two of them.

 

“What happened?” he asked as he quickly ushered the gurney toward the treatment room. 

 

“Javier and me,” Carlos answered, “were goin’ fishin’ up at Ellwood Creek . . . . . . . .”

 

“This guy was jus’ . . . . . . . . he hit her, kicked her,” Javier put in.  “We had t’ fight him off to get her away . . . . . . . .”

 

“Where is he now?” he asked as he looked over toward the reception desk.  Still listening to the two men, he motioned to the receptionist.  “Call Craig,” he said to her as they moved into the treatment room.

 

“He took off.  We got her here jus’ as fast as we could.”  He looked at the doctor.  “She’s gonna be all right?”

 

“Stick around; talk to Craig,” he told them.  “We’ll do everything we can.” 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Feeling just a bit frustrated, Kelly Brackett headed for the airport.  He’d expected to find Dixie out at the ranch, but she had not gone there, after all.  He wasn’t particularly worried, although it would have been a whole lot easier to deal with all of this if she had come out to the ranch.  He didn’t anticipate any particular problem with finding her in San Francisco, but, all things considered, the delay in connecting up with her made him rather uneasy.  He was still convinced that it would be safer for the children if they were out of Los Angeles for a while . . . . . . . . and he knew his father would enjoy the unexpected time with them.  Kell had delivered them to the ranch and explained everything in detail; the Apple Valley police chief had promised to keep an eye on things, and Kell was certain they would all be fine. 

 

The only thing left for him to do now was to track Dixie down in San Francisco.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Did you get a number?”

 

“Sure,” Gayle answered with a smile as she held out a slip of paper.  “Didn’t get an answer, though.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.  “You go on home.” 

 

After trying several times and getting no answer, he decided to wait and call again after she’d come out of recovery.  When there was still no answer, he reluctantly replied to the answering machine.  Then he settled back to wait for a call. 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

For better than a week, he haunted the streets of San Francisco in search of her; the fruitlessness of his efforts frustrating him.  In many ways, Dixie was as predictable as the rising and setting of the sun; he’d been certain he would have no difficulty in locating her.  Once before she’d fled to San Francisco . . . . . . . . when she hadn’t been out at the ranch, he’d expected the same this time.  Only it hadn’t happened that way. 

 

Kell had absolutely no idea where else he might go to look for her.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Mike Morton was grumbling as he approached the counter.  “Still no word, I don’t suppose?”

 

“Nope,” Betty affirmed.  “But Elizabeth will be back tonight and I’ve gotten Peterson to cover.  We’ll be okay.”  She paused and looked up from the stack of paperwork.  “No luck in tracking Dixie down, either.”

 

Troubled, Mike shook his head.  “This just isn’t right.  It’s not at all like Kell.  Tossing Dixie out of here; not showing up or calling in for more than a week . . . . . . . .”  He looked across the counter at Betty, who had once again returned her attention to the paper-work scattered across the counter in front of her.  “I can feel it, Betty . . . . . . . . something’s very wrong.”

 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Where?” he demanded.  He was having a fair amount of difficulty absorbing the news; it was not at all what he had expected.  

 

“Orchams,” the doctor replied evenly.  “It’s a small town on the edge of the Los Padres National Forest,” he added.  “About a hundred miles or so north of Los Angeles.”

 

“I’ll find it,” he vowed.

 

“Take 101 north to Glen Annie Road.  The hospital’s right on Glen Annie . . . . . . . you can’t miss it.”

 

“I’m leaving now; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

“I’ll be here.”

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Distracted, he perfunctorily shook hands as he acknowledged the introductions.  His mind was filled with wild imaginings as he numbly listened to the sketchy details they were able to provide for him.

 

“A couple of local fishermen were heading up to Ellwood Creek,” he said quietly as he poured out three cups of coffee and gave one to each of the men before settling down in the third chair.  “They’re the ones that brought her in.  She was able to tell us her name, but we really don’t know too much of anything more.”

 

Kelly Brackett sighed heavily.  “Can I see her now?”

 

“I have a few questions first.”

 

Kell turned to look at the speaker.  Craig Something-or-other; he couldn’t quite remember.  The local sheriff.

 

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation; two young men came into the office.  No one spoke.

 

“Well?” queried the sheriff after a long moment.

 

Both young men shook their heads.  “Nope,” said Carlos.  “Not even close.”

 

Craig Warner sighed.  He hadn’t really expected it to be that easy.  Still, it paid to investigate all the possibilities.  “Can you describe the man?” he asked.

 

Anxious to be out of the office, Kelly Brackett shifted uneasily in his chair as the conversation continued.  Although he understood their quest for an explanation, he felt no particularly compelling need to sit there listening to all of it when he could be with Dixie. 

 

“Like I said, we didn’t see him real well, what with the fightin’ an’ all; he’d fer sure’ve killed ’er if we hadn’t seen him.”  He shrugged helplessly.  “Real strong . . . . . . . . kinda young; long, dark hair pulled back . . . . . . . . a dragon tattooed on the back of his hand.” 

 

“Damn!”

 

The unexpected epithet surprised Craig and he turned to look at the doctor.  “That mean something to you?”

 

In an instant, the nightmare had suddenly grown insidiously dark and threatening.  How could he have been that wrong?  “Harry Culdane.”

 

“Who is he?”

 

“They sent him to prison,” Kell replied rather vehemently.  “Dixie testified at the trial.”  Caught up in the chaos of his thoughts, his voice faded away.  After a long moment, he continued.  “I  tried to get her . . . . . . . . make sure he couldn’t find her . . . . . . . .” 

 

Kell’s thoughts were consumed with Dixie; he desperately needed to see her.  He fought to concentrate on providing the details so this would be finished.  “I was warned . . . . . . . . a friend said he was being released . . . . . . . . some kind of legal technicality; said he was looking to . . . . . . . . ‘settle a score’ with Dixie.” 

 

He worked at keeping his voice even.  “I was going to take her out of town so he wouldn’t find her.  But I couldn’t leave . . . . . . . .”  Anger and frustration roiled within him; frantic, he paced the floor between the chair in which he had been sitting and the window.  “I . . . . . . . . made her leave,” he said softly.  “I thought she’d be safe if she left . . . . . . . .”  Morose, he stared out the window.

 

“What’d she testify about?  Why was Culdane in prison?”

 

“He’s . . . . . . . he was responsible for killing seven people in a dry cleaning shop.  Dixie was there when it happened . . . . . . . .”  Memories of those terror-filled days flooded his mind; he turned away from the window to look at the doctor.  “This is all ancient history.  I want to see Dixie . . . . . . . . I have to see Dixie.”   

 

Craig nodded as the doctor replied, “Certainly.”  He moved toward the door and Kell fell into step with him.  As they walked down the corridor, George spoke quietly.  “Even though we’re well-equipped, we’re still a community hospital, so we generally don’t see cases like this.  People around here tend to think they need to go into Santa Barbara, to one of the larger hospitals.  It’s only fifteen miles away, you know.”

 

“Does she need to be moved?” Kell asked in concern.

 

The doctor shook his head.  “No, not necessarily . . . . . . . . We can certainly care for her here, but if you’d feel better about having her in one of the hospitals over in Santa Barbara . . . . . . . .”

 

“The only thing that concerns me,” Kell interrupted, “is making sure she gets the care she needs.”

 

“Here we are,” Doctor Medford said as he stepped back to allow Kell to precede him into the room.    

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

He’d listened to the litany of horror provided by Carlos and Javier; he’d read the medical chart.  He thought he was prepared.

 

He was not.

 

Numb, he sank into the chair beside her bed.  How Culdane had found her remained a mystery that Kell was not, at this moment, willing to work at unraveling.  He’d done what he thought was necessary, what he believed would keep her safe, but it hadn’t turned out that way at all.  Here she lay, mute testament to that very fact.  Crushed and broken, put back together with surgical sutures and traction.  How could he have misjudged things that badly, made such a monumental error?  If only he hadn’t sent her away . . . . . . . .  But, of course, he had; now all that was left to him was the keeping of a lonely vigil while standing beside her bed.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

They sat in silence, side by side, looking out to sea, content with the being together.  She could feel the gentle pressure of his arm draped across her shoulders as the ever-present wind played in her hair.  This was their special place, their wharf-side bench . . . . . . . .  They sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, sipping champagne.  Content, she leaned into his warm embrace as the mantel clock chimed in the new year.  Upstairs, their children peacefully slept; before them lay shared lives, filled with bright promise . . . . . . . . She stood in the hospital corridor, staring in disbelief at the treatment room door as tears streamed down her cheeks . . . . . . . .

 

The restrained sound of soft whimpering wheedled its way into his consciousness and woke him.  He’d been sitting at her bedside for the better part of a week now; her injuries, coupled with the medication, had ensured that she’d only been awake for a few moments at a time.  Concerned, he moved from the chair in which he’d dozed off to stand beside her bed.  “Good morning,” he quietly offered as he reached over to brush a strand of hair back from her face. Despite her current condition, he entertained the notion that perhaps he could cajole a smile from her as she slowly opened her eyes.

 

The dream gradually faded into the dim mists of abandoned sleep.  “You’re . . . . . . . . here? . . . . . . . . Why?”  

 

He looked at her in surprise, then dismissed her confused query as merely a side effect of the medication.  “Doctor Med- . . . . . . . .”

 

“What . . . . . . . . do . . . . . . . . you . . . . . . . . want?” she interrupted.

 

He looked at her, perplexed.  “What do I want?. . . . . . . .”  

 

“No . . . . . . . .”   Tears pooled in her eyes.   

 

“Dix . . . . . . . .”

 

“You . . . . . . . . go . . . . . . . . a . . . . way . . . . . . . .”   

 

With a start, Kell realized that she was remembering what he’d said to her at the hospital . . . . . . . . and that she honestly believed he’d actually wanted her to leave.  Pain tinged his words; “I thought . . . . . . . . I thought you . . . . . . . . would be safe . . . . . . . . if you left.”

 

She was silent for a long moment.  “You . . . . . . . . knew . . . . . . . .?”

 

“Jonathan warned me,” Kell replied.  “I was coming to get you; I had a plan . . . . . . . . to take you away, out to the ranch . . . . . . .  so he wouldn’t find you.”  He reached out to gently brush his hand through her long, soft hair. 

 

She flinched and he pulled his hand back.  She couldn’t turn her head away; her blue eyes brimmed over with tears she could not brush away.  She closed her eyes.  “Go . . . . . . . .” she whispered. 

 

Even in her whispery voice, Kell could hear the pain and hurt behind her words.  He’d known when he’d made the decision that he would hurt her; he’d hoped she would understand once he’d explained.  Of course, he silently berated himself, since he’d driven her out of the hospital, straight into the clutches of a madman bent on murder . . . . . . . . expecting her to understand his actions was probably far beyond anything even remotely reasonable.

 

Unwilling to be the cause of any more pain for her, Kell moved to stand at the foot of the bed.  But he was determined to finish the explanation.  After all he’d said, he owed her at least that much.  “When Bill came in, I . . . . . . . . . I couldn’t let him die . . . . . . . . but . . . . . . . . . I thought you’d go to the ranch . . . . . . . . or maybe to San Francisco . . . . . . . .”  His voice faltered as emotion overwhelmed him.  “I didn’t . . . . . . . . not really . . . . . . . . I just said all that so you’d . . . . . . . . so you’d . . . . . . . . be safe . . . . . . . .”

 

“If . . . . . . . . you’d . . . . . . . . told . . . . . . . . me . . . . . . . .”

 

In spite of the emotion he was barely holding at bay, Kell smiled ruefully as he shook his head.  “Couldn’t chance it, Love.  If you’d gotten stubborn on me . . . . . . . . dug in your heels . . . . . . . . refused to go . . . . . . . .”  His voice crackled with fervency.  “I thought going was the only way I had to protect you . . . . . . . .” 

 

Silence hung in the air between them.  She closed her eyes, then, and Kell thought she’d drifted off to sleep.  He remained standing  at the foot of the bed, determined to keep watch over her.  If she still wanted him to leave when she woke again, well, then he would go.  At least he would know she had been cared for, that she was finally safe.  And that was all that really mattered to him.  Lost in his own contemplations, he startled at the sound of her voice.

 

“You . . . . . . . . know . . . . . . . . me . . . . . . . .” she whispered softly, “far . . . . . . . . too . . . . . . . . well . . . . . . . .”  Offering him a  wisp of a smile, she tried to lift her arm, to hold her hand out to him.

 

Silently observing the attempt, he moved back around the bed to once more stand at her side. 

 

“You . . . . . . . . didn’t . . . . . . . . mean . . . . . . . .?”

 

Kell shook his head as he interrupted.  “Not one single word.”

 

She desperately wanted to believe these today words of his, to simply forget what he’d said before, and to lose herself in his love.  But pain reverberated within her; she sought to quell its nagging voice.  “What . . . . . . . . did . . . . . . . . you . . . . . . . . mean?”

 

“There’s only one thing I ever meant, Dixie,” he answered softly.  “Now and forever.”  He leaned over to brush her cheek with a kiss.  “That I meant.”

 

“Always . . . . . . . . and . . . . . . . . ever . . . . . . . .” she whispered.

 

“I love you, Angel Eyes.” 

 

Exhausted with the effort of the conversation, she made a valiant effort to keep her eyes open.  As he gently took her hand in his, her tears brimmed to overflowing, but she’d allowed both the kiss and the touch.  “I . . . . . . . . I’m . . . . . . . .”   

 

“Ssshhhh, Sweetheart,” Kell admonished with a gentle touch of his finger to her lips, hushing her.  “Sleep now.  We can talk later.”

 

She obediently closed her eyes and, as she drifted off to sleep, Kell reached up to gently brush away the stray tears that had escaped to sparkle against the purpling bruises on her cheeks.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“You can’t be serious!”

 

Mike and Adam exchanged glances but said nothing more.

 

“What did you do about it?  Did you call the house?  Go over there?  What about calling Kell’s service?”

 

Betty scowled across the counter at him.  Annoyed, she interrupted the litany of questions as she slammed the stack of folders she’d been holding down on the counter.  “We called, Joe.  We left messages.  We did what we could . . . . . . . . and we’ve covered for him for three weeks now.  You weren’t here, so don’t you dare stand there and tell us we haven’t done enough!”

 

Mike Morton could not recall ever having seen Joe Early so angry.  He tried to diffuse what was rapidly becoming a volatile situation.  “What more could we have done, Joe?  We tried everything, short of calling the police, to track him down.  As for Dixie . . . . . . . .”

 

“Okay, okay.  I’m sorry . . . . . . . . I wasn’t blaming any of you.  I’m just trying to understand . . . . . . . .” Joe apologized as he held up his hand.  His initial anger was swiftly being overcome by concern.  Dixie and Kell could each be more stubborn than the law allowed, but they were both dedicated professionals; simply not showing up at the hospital for three weeks was definitely far outside the realm of their established behavior patterns.  Whatever it was that had happened while he’d been away, he feared the worst . . . . . . . . With a sigh, Joe worked to rein in his concern as he reached for the telephone.  Although no one seemed to have given it any thought, Kell and Dixie did have four young children.  Were they with their parents, wherever they might be?  Or did an extended absence such as Betty had described mean that the children were somewhere else?  There were, Joe knew, very few people with whom Kell and Dixie would be willing to actually leave their children.  He dialed for an outside line, then punched in a number. 

 

In a matter of minutes, he had all the answers he sought.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“There’s a nationwide all-points-bulletin out,” Craig told him as he took another bite of his sandwich.  “Don’t you worry . . . . . . . . we’ll get him.”

 

Kell nodded; he was reluctant to voice his concerns, as if speaking them aloud would somehow give them life.  Foremost among them was his fear that Culdane would make some further effort to get to Dixie; finally he acknowledged, “I’ll feel a whole lot better when he’s locked up again.”

 

The sheriff nodded in agreement.  Silence settled around the table as each was momentarily lost in thought.

 

Kell took a final gulp of his now-cold coffee.  “Got to get back,” he affirmed as he pushed his chair away from the table.  “Let me know . . . . . . . .”

 

Gayle watched as the doctor headed for the exit.  Turning to her husband, she queried, “Do you think he’s still around here?”

 

“Maybe, maybe not,” he shrugged.  “If he is, we’ll find him.”  He smiled across the table at her.  “Don’t you start fretting about it.”

 

Gayle returned the smile as she munched on a crispy potato chip.  “It’s just such a horrible thing . . . . . . . .”       

 

“I know, Honey,” Craig agreed.  “Sometimes I worry about just how long it’ll be before the Los Angeles gangs migrate our way.”

 

“But that couldn’t happen here!” she protested.

 

“I’m afraid it could . . . . . . . . and most probably will,” he replied as he pushed his chair away from the table.  “Gotta get going; see you tonight.”

 

Gayle sighed as she finished her own lunch and headed back for the reception desk. 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Despite the protest of stiffened muscles, Dixie gingerly swung her feet over the side of the bed.  Dogged tenacity provided the impetus; now that she was no longer in traction, she had resolved to get up and prove to all of them that she was perfectly capable of managing to get around by herself.  When she was better, when she could manage on her own, they’d said, she could leave the hospital.  And that was far too good a promise for her to simply ignore, no matter how much pain she might have to endure in the process.  Until a day or two ago, she’d been perfectly satisfied with simply lying in bed; today, however, she felt well enough to make some effort toward hastening her release from the hospital.

 

She’d finally convinced Kell to go get some lunch in the hospital cafeteria; he had a propensity to hover over her these days and, although she dearly loved him for it, she knew she was far more apt to successfully manage this small across-the-room jaunt if he was out of her immediate vicinity for a while.

 

Dixie slowly slid forward until her feet were touching the floor, then eased herself to a standing position as she leaned against the edge of the bed, just in case.  A minor wave of dizziness, which she’d expected since she’d been lying in bed for the past three weeks, passed without causing her any real difficulty.  Favoring her injured knee, she carefully moved away from the bed.   

 

Half a dozen halting steps brought her to the chair and she sank in-to it with a sigh of relief.  Despite the fears besieging her . . . . . . . . fears she generally refused to acknowledge . . . . . . . . it hadn’t been nearly as difficult as her long-ago walk across the sunroom at the rehabilitation center, but it had been a bit more of an effort than she had anticipated.  Nonetheless, she’d managed without falling on her face . . . . . . . . and if determination alone could provide any measure of ultimate success, then Kell would find her sitting there when he returned.

 

And so she sat . . . . . . . . waiting . . . . . . . . expectant.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

The three of them had watched Joe’s expression change as they’d listened to his end of the conversation with Neal Brackett.  Now, as Joe slowly returned the telephone receiver to its cradle, they waited expectantly for him to share the news.

 

“The children are out at the ranch with Kell’s father,” Joe said quietly.  “Dixie’s in a hospital outside Santa Barbara . . . . . . . . Kell’s up there with her.”

 

None of them had had any idea of what to expect; they certainly had not anticipated hearing anything like this.  Silence hung heavily around them as they absorbed the news.  Betty was the first to find her voice.  “In a hospital?  Why?  What happened?”

 

“Harry Culdane,” Joe absently replied as he worked to find some semblance of reason in all a world suddenly turned upside down. 

 

“Who’s Harry Culdane?” Adam queried in confusion.  “What’s he got to do with anything?  And Kell threw her out of here, so why’s he up there with her, anyway?”

 

“He was convicted of murdering seven people in a dry cleaning shop.  Dixie was there when it happened; she testified at the trial,” Joe offered in answer to Adam’s first question.  Preferring to wait until he had some first-hand information, he ignored the second.

 

“I thought he was in prison,” Mike put in.

 

Joe shrugged; “So did I, but apparently he’s not . . . . . . . .”  He fell silent; after a moment, he added, “There’s no sense in standing around here guessing about it.  I’m on my way up there . . . . . . . .”  It was not a hasty decision; he’d made it the instant Neal had told him about Dixie being in the hospital.  Joe headed for the door.

 

“Let us know,” Mike called after him.

 

Joe simply nodded and kept going. 

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Dix?” he queried in surprise as he came through the door.

 

She smiled at him.  “How was your lunch?”

 

“Fine,” he absently replied, still rather taken aback at finding her out of bed.  “You’re okay?”

 

Dixie laughed as she carefully slid out of the chair, stood up, and ambled part way across the space separating them.  Although she tried to appear nonchalant, her eyes betrayed the monumental effort behind her short walk; Kell wrapped his arms around her and held her in a hug.  In reply to his earlier question, she offered, “I’m okay,” as she gratefully leaned into the hug.

 

Still holding onto her, Kell chuckled; “You certainly are!”  After a long moment, he gently guided her back across the room and settled her in the bed.  The fact that she allowed this without protest verified to him exactly what the little venture had cost her.

 

She was exhausted from the effort and drifted off to sleep as he stood at her side, steadfastly holding onto her hand.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“I’m on my way up to look at this morning’s x-rays; you want to come take a look?”

 

Kell glanced at Dixie.  She was sleeping soundly.

 

“Sure,” he replied, certain that he would be back long before she woke.  He gently brushed his hand across her cheek; she sighed softly but did not waken.  Confident that all was well, Kell joined George and they headed off to look at the latest set of her x-rays.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

He pulled the stairwell door open just far enough to peek into the corridor.  As he had hoped, it was empty.  He slipped through the door and, hugging the wall, moved cautiously down the hallway.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Thanks for bringing them down,” she said with a smile as they walked down the hallway toward the reception desk. 

 

“No problem,” he replied.  “Glad to help --- especially when I get another chance to see my favorite girl!”

 

She laughed lightly.  As they turned the corner, she said, “You go on, now.  I promised to stop in and see Dixie when I had a free minute.”

 

“Okay, catch you later,” Craig said as she headed toward the corridor that would take her to Dixie’s room.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

He glanced around.  The hallway remained empty.  As he warily crept across the tiled expanse, toward the room, his eyes made a final sweep of the corridor; it remained deserted and silent.  Quickly he pushed open the door and slipped into the room.

 

She was sleeping . . . . . . . . this was going to be a piece of cake.  Moving across the room on cat’s feet, he pulled the pillow from beneath her head and pressed it tightly over her face.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Craig!  What brings you back out here?” asked George Medford as he and Kell stepped out of the elevator. 

 

“Hi, George . . . . . . . . Kell,” the sheriff greeted them.  “Just came by with Connie and Ed.”

 

“Their car broken down again?” George queried with a smile.

 

“You know it!” Craig chuckled as the two men headed down the hallway.

 

Her scream startled them and for just an instant they stood frozen in time and space.

 

* * * * * * * *

 

She struggled, fighting to find breath as panic billowed within her. Inky blackness surrounded her, edging closer, a threatening screen inexorably dropping between her and the world.  She felt as if she were drifting . . . . . . . . floating away from all she knew and loved.  There was no escape; the curtain descended and the world was lost to her.

 

“Hey!”

 

It took Gayle only a moment to realize what was happening. 

 

“Help!” she yelled as she shoved her shock aside and hurled herself across the room, grabbing at him to push him away from the patient now lying motionless in the bed.  He raged at her as he slammed toward the door in an effort to escape.  She grabbed at him; he shoved her.  

 

Time was of the essence if he was to get away.  He palmed the knife; a quick, decisive stab and she fell away, no longer hindering his escape. 

 

But as he came through the door, the hallway was suddenly filled with people and he fought to break through the crowd.

 

“I’ll get him!” Craig shouted over his shoulder as he took off in pursuit.  The two doctors elbowed their way through the gathering crowd and moved into the room.

 

George stooped down to tend to Gayle while Kell moved across the room to check on Dixie.

 

She was not breathing, there was no pulse; she was slipping away from him.  Distraught, training assumed control as Kell instinctively fell into the rhythm of breathing and chest compression that defined cardiopulmonary resuscitation.  “C’mon, Dix!  Come on!” he begged as he did the compressions.   

 

Desperate and unwilling to relinquish her to defeat, he resisted the hand on his shoulder as he concentrated on the rhythm of the process.  “Kell!” he said sharply as he pulled at his shoulder.  George forcefully dragged him away from the bed as the nurse quickly slipped an oxygen mask over her face.  “She’s breathing; she’ll be all right.”

 

Nodding, he fought to regain some sense of equilibrium; gasping breaths in urgent gulps, he sought some semblance of composure.  Medford moved away from him then, giving him a moment to pull himself together. 

 

Another nurse and an orderly came rushing in with a gurney and the doctor quickly set about getting Gayle moved up to surgery.  “Is Elliott on the way?” he asked.

 

“He’ll be here in twenty minutes,” the nurse replied as she worked at regulating the  intravenous drip.

 

George sighed; “I’m not sure she can wait that long . . . . . . . .”

 

Kell turned at that; “What’ve you got?” he asked as he moved toward the gurney.  Perhaps he could assist, help the young lady who had tried so valiantly to help Dixie.  He certainly couldn’t let it go without doing whatever he could.

 

Medford stepped aside to let him examine her.

 

Kell looked up at him as he moved to the other side of the gurney; “Let’s go!”

 

George shook his head.  “I haven’t done anything like this in years; she’d be better off waiting for Elliott . . . . . . . .”

 

“She doesn’t have that long,” Kell rejoined as he moved along with the gurney into the now-empty hallway.  “We’ll need to do a thoracotamy . . . . . . . .”

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

She listened, but silence enveloped her.  As much as she could see by just barely cracking her eyelids and peeking out, she seemed to be alone.  Still, she hesitated.  What if he was still there, waiting for some unknown signal, ready to continue the attack?  She loathed the feeling of helplessness, the terror that numbed her senses and made her lie there, cringing, but she didn’t dare take a chance.  Swathed in fear, she remained motionless . . . . . . . .

 

He’d been watching her closely for the past several minutes and was certain she was awake.  He moved to stand beside her and reached out to gently take hold of her hand.

 

Her eyes popped open as she flinched, startled like a frightened deer caught in the glare of passing headlights. 

 

“Dix?  It’s okay . . . . . . . .”

 

“. . . . . . . . Joe?”

 

Joe Early smiled at her as she looked at him in disbelief. 

 

“Joe!”  She burst into tears; surprised by her reaction, he sought to comfort her as he wrapped her in a hug.  She clutched his hand as she cried; after a minute her tears lessened and she lifted her head from his shoulder to look around the room.

 

“Where’s Kell?”

 

Joe shook his head;  “I don’t know, Honey.  I haven’t seen him.”  Dixie looked so woebegone at that that Joe doubted he could bring her much comfort.  “Want me to go find him?”

 

“No!” she declared as she tightened her grip on his hand.  “Don’t leave me alone!”

 

“Dix, it’s okay.  I’ll stay right here . . . . . . . .”  Concerned, he settled her back on the pillows and pulled the chair over close to the bed so that he could keep hold of her hand.  

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Joe?”

 

He’d been sitting with her for some time now; she’d finally stopped crying and drifted off to sleep.  She’d managed to tell him about Harry Culdane’s latest attack and, although he could understand her fear, he was at a loss as to how he might reassure her.  He started at the sound of his name and turned toward the voice; Kell was standing in the doorway.  “Kell!” he smiled.

 

Kell, still in scrubs, crossed the room to greet his friend, then moved to Dixie’s side to an effort to reassure himself that all was well.  She was sleeping; he brushed his hand across her cheek, not too surprised to find the remnants of tears there.  In the past few weeks, tears had become far too familiar a companion . . . . . . . .

 

“She’s pretty frightened,” Joe offered quietly.

 

Kell looked up.  “She has every right to be . . . . . . . . I’ve got to find someplace to take her . . . . . . . . someplace safe . . . . . . . .”

 

“Kell, you’re not trying to blame yourself for this, are you?”

 

“I shouldn’t have made her leave Rampart,” Kell quietly replied.

 

“I should think that this would prove to you that he was determined to find her, no matter where she was,” Joe speculated.  “The answer is to put him back in prison so he can’t hurt her . . . . . . . . or anyone else.”

 

“I can’t believe they let him out in the first place,” Kell muttered.

 

“How much longer will she have to stay here?” Joe asked.

 

Kell shrugged.  “A day, maybe two.”  He considered a moment, then added, “As soon as she’s able to leave, I’m going to take her somewhere where she won’t need to be afraid any more.”

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Kell, this is a dead-end street.”

 

Kelly Brackett chuckled as he glanced over in his wife’s direction.  “I know . . . . . . . .” he replied as he drove on.

 

She caught her breath in amazement as he pulled around the bend.  In the settling of evening dusk, the hotel courtyard was a fairyland of sparkling lights.  A scant ten minutes later, they were standing on the terrace outside their room, looking out over the calm waters of the hotel’s private cove. 

 

Captivated with the view, Dixie murmured, “Absolutely incredible!”

 

“Sure is!” Kell grinned contentedly as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and looked at the panorama before them; until then, he’d been enjoying watching her enjoy the view.

 

The hotel, generally acknowledged to be finest on the entire island, was quietly set away from the hustle and bustle of the downtown tourist hotel row, yet an easy drive to any place she might wish to go.  All that really mattered to Kell was that the days they spent there would somehow accomplish the miracle he sought, that they would drive the haunted look of fear out of her beautiful blue eyes.

 

Troubled by lingering remnants of nightmares, Dixie had awakened early; now they sat in the hotel lobby sipping coffee and generally enjoying the quiet time together.  Enchanted, Dixie wandered over to the balcony overlooking the hotel lagoon and gardens.  “Kell,” she said in astonishment, “there are dolphins in there!”

 

“Yep!” he nodded knowingly.  “Want to go swimming with them?”

 

Dixie looked over at him.  “You’re kidding? . . . . . . . . Right?”

 

With a chuckle, Kell shook his head.  “Nope.  You can go swimming with them if you want.”

 

Dixie looked back out at the lagoon just in time to see two of the dolphins jump out of the water.  They splashed back into the calm blue water as she queried, “Really?”

 

“Saturday afternoon at three,” he told her as he took the now-empty coffee cup from her hands.  “Today, we’re going to see the sights.”

 

They stood and watched the windsurfers near the Diamond Head Lighthouse and out at Hanauma Bay; they walked inside Diamond Head’s ancient crater, marveling at the ways of nature.  Kell took her to the pali where the wind blew so strongly that he’d actually been afraid she’d blow away; looking out over the Ka’a’awa Valley, she’d laughed at his concern as he held her tight.  They watched the water spouting up from the Halona Blowhole and strolled through magnificent gardens of exquisite blossoms.

 

Kell took her to Waikiki where they walked, hand in hand, along the beach, but the mass of beachgoers there made her long for the quiet of the hotel’s private cove and they didn’t linger long.     

 

In between lazy hours spent wandering along the sandy shore or splashing in the warm blue ocean waters, they did all the tourist-y things . . . . . . . . a luau . . . . . . . . a dinner cruise that found them standing on the deck of the ship watching an incredible sunset over the sparkling blue ocean . . . . . . . . the requisite shopping so she’d have special things to take back to the children.  Intrigued with the variety, they collected leis . . . . . . . . traditional flower blossoms . . . . . . . . exquisite seashells . . . . . . . . kukui nuts symbolic of love and respect . . . . . . . .    

 

They visited the Arizona Memorial where they silently watched as oil droplets escaped from the great ship and drifted upward.  One by one, as each of them rose to the water’s surface, they were captured by the sunlight and turned into rainbows.  They stood in silence before the wall of names, mute testament that the price of freedom was indeed high and here many had paid its price. 

 

Out in the Punchbowl Crater, Dixie wandered among the walls of the ten Courts of the Missing at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, occasionally stopping to reach out and touch one of the names engraved there.  Kell stood beside her, silent and watchful; he supposed she had known them in Korea . . . . . . . . despite tear-filled eyes, she walked along and looked at the names on each and every wall as Kell held onto her hand.  At the top of the stairs, they sat in the small chapel where Dixie tearfully left her flower lei as a promise to eternal remembrance and gratitude for the sacrifice.            

 

Quiet dinners in the outdoor garden café . . . . . . . . early morning walks along the beach as the rising sun flooded the ocean with sparkling rays of light . . . . . . . . tranquil moonlit evenings together on their private terrace . . . . . . . . swimming with dolphins . . . . . . . . Her laughter brought a smile to his lips and a tear to his eyes.  He savored the moments, wishing he might hold onto them forever, for her joy was his joy, his everlasting delight, his thankfulness that fear no longer dimmed the sparkle in her deep blue eyes.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Gayle smiled at them as she reached out to take hold of her hand.

 

“She’s coming home tomorrow,” Craig announced cheerfully. 

 

 “I’m glad you’re better,” Dixie offered quietly.  Uncomfortable, she twisted her hands.  After a few moments, she stammered,  “I didn’t get . . . . . . . . before . . . . . . . .  to thank you.”  

 

Gayle dismissed the discussion with a wave of her hand.  “Anyone here would have done the same thing . . . . . . . .”

 

As the women continued their conversation, Kell moved across the room to stand beside the window.  Craig came up beside him. 

 

“He won’t bother her any more,” he said softly.  “He came after two of my deputies yesterday . . . . . . . . . . got himself killed.”

 

Kell looked at the sheriff.  It certainly wasn’t in his nature to feel assuaged by someone’s death, but his relief that Dixie would now be safe dwarfed any sadness he might have felt at the man’s passing.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

“Treatment Two,” she crisply directed.  She’d already ensured the room was set up and ready; everything was running smoothly.  As Betty and Carol moved into the treatment room to assist, Dixie returned to the nurses’ station.

 

“Good to have you back,” Adam said as he came up to the counter.  “We sure missed you around here.”

 

“It’s good to be back,” she smiled.  “And I missed being here.”

 

Adam took a deep breath.  “Dixie . . . . . . . .” he began.

 

“Thank you,” she interrupted with a warm smile as Kell came out of the treatment room and headed their way. 

 

Adam returned the smile and nodded at Kell as he turned and headed down the corridor to meet the incoming ambulance.

 

He handed her the chart.  “Anything else?”

 

She shook her head.  “Not at the moment.”

 

“Got time to join Joe and me for a cup of coffee?”

 

Dixie looked at him, merriment dancing in her eyes as she walked around the counter to stand beside him.  “I don’t know; the boss is pretty strict . . . . . . . . .”

 

“I think I can handle him!” Kell laughed as he took hold of her hand and led her toward the break room.  Before them stretched a lifetime filled with days of promise and the joy of being together.