“Finally!” She heaved a sigh of relief as the traffic thinned out. Dixie Brackett loathed driving in the snarls of rush hour traffic, but, as usual, the Emergency Nurses Association meeting had run past its scheduled end time. Kell had gallantly agreed to make sure the twins got dinner if she was delayed in getting home, so she knew that, even though dinner was probably hamburgers, at least the children weren’t starving as she inched along the freeway. Somehow, it was always a “thank goodness” relief to once again reach the off ramp, and, as she drove along the dark side street, she let her thoughts drift to getting home at last.
Suddenly, the car directly in front of her rolled over and Dixie swerved to avoid a collision. Trembling and gasping for breath, she pulled over to the side of the road, stopped her car, and got out. Grabbing the flashlight from underneath the driver’s seat, she paused only long enough to retrieve the first aid kit from the trunk as she hurried toward the overturned car, now settled on its side in the grassy culvert.
The driver had been thrown from the car. Dismayed, Dixie dropped the first aid kit beside her as she knelt on the ground and set about checking her condition. She looked around; the street remained dark and deserted. “Never a car in sight when you need one,” she ruefully observed to herself. Not at all sure there was anyone around to hear her, she nevertheless screamed for help.
The woman moaned. Dixie eased herself down to sit on the ground beside her and took hold of her quivering hand. Leaning over, she spoke softly, seeking to comfort her. Her examination had already told her that she was beyond medical help, but Dixie refused to leave her alone on the side of a dark and lonely road, abandoned to death like discarded flotsam and jetsam.
“Sta . . . . . . . . cey,” the young woman moaned.
“Ssshhhh,” whispered Dixie as she brushed the brown strands of hair back from the woman’s face. “My name’s Dixie,” she said softly, “and I’m right here with you.”
She whimpered again. “Where’s . . . . . . . . Sta . . . . . . . . cey?”
Shining the bright flashlight beam around, Dixie searched the immediate area, but saw no one else. With a gentle pat on her shoulder, Dixie softly told the woman, “I’ll check,” as she clambered to her feet and headed toward the wrecked automobile.
As she neared the car, she could hear a baby crying. Stumbling over the uneven ground, she hurried her steps toward the vehicle, silently offering a prayer for both the mother and the child.
The harness safety straps held the sobbing child suspended in her car seat. Dixie automatically observed as she pulled shards of glass away from the broken windshield. Judging by her size, Dixie guessed the child was about a year old. Ignoring the cuts on her hand, she continued pulling the broken fragments of glass away from the windshield until she could reach Stacey’s car seat. Then she cautiously maneuvered herself around to get a hold of her. She didn’t seem to be hurt so Dixie unfastened the harness straps and released the child from her confinement.
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“No,” Kell told the police officer standing in front of the bay window in his living room. “I called, but there was no answer. The meeting was supposed to be over at six.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “Even if they ran late, it’s almost nine-thirty now.”
“You’re sure about the route she would have taken?”
“Positive. Dixie hates the freeway; she always gets off to take Sepulveda and comes up High Knoll to Royal Oak.”
“Maybe it’s something as simple as a flat tire. We’ll drive along that way and see if her car’s broken down.” Returning his note pad to his uniform pocket, he and his partner turned to leave.
“You’ll let me know?” Kell queried anxiously.
Nodding, the officer replied, “We’ll let you know.”
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Dixie pulled the terrified child into her arms . . . . . . . . so hush, little baby, don’t you cry . . . . . . . . reclaimed the flashlight, and carried Stacey over to where her mother lay.
“She’s . . . . . . . . all . . . . . . . . right?”
Carefully settling herself on the ground beside the woman once again, Dixie softly replied, “Yes,” as she continued soothing the child in her arms “. . . . . . . . so close your eyes . . . . . . . .” As the child whimpered, she offered, “I can call your family . . . . . . . .”
“There’s . . . . . . . . no . . . . . . . . one . . . . . . . . to . . . . . . . . call.” She forced the words out. “It’s . . . . . . . . just . . . . . . . . us.”
Dixie shifted the child in her arms, holding her close to her mother. She took hold of the young woman’s hand once more.
“Just . . . . . . . . Sta . . . . . . . . cey . . . . . . . .”
She reached her hand up to touch the blonde curls framing her child’s face. Suddenly the young mother grabbed at Dixie’s arm. “Prom . . . . ise!” she begged with the last of her breath. “Take . . . . . . . . care . . . . . . . . of . . . . . . . . Sta - a - c - . . . . . . . .”
“I promise,”. . . . . . . . vaya con dios . . . . . . . . Dixie whispered as tears spilled down her cheeks.
At the edge of the roadway, the police car pulled to a stop.
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“Doctor Brackett,” he barked into the telephone. He listened a minute, then entreated, “Do you know if she’s hurt?” Another minute of listening was followed by a decisive, “I’m on my way.”
Slamming the receiver down, he headed for the door at a run.
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Dixie, sitting in the back of the patrol car, shook her head in response to the detective’s question as she rocked the sleeping child. “All of a sudden, the car just rolled over. I stopped to help --- I’m a nurse . . . . . . . .” Her voice faded away as Stacey stirred and Dixie turned her attention to the child that had cried herself to exhaustion before finally falling asleep in her arms.
“And,” he flipped back through a couple of pages in his note pad, “Mrs. McCallister was thrown from the car?”
Dixie solemnly nodded as tears flooded in her eyes. “She was so badly hurt, there was nothing I could do except stay with her,” she told him sadly. After a moment, she added, “Stacey was still strapped in her car seat and I did get her out of the car.”
“How do you know her name?”
She cuddled the little girl. “Her mother called her ‘Stacey’.”
“Looks like the tie rod snapped,” the officer whispered to his partner as he came back from examining the car. After arriving, the two officers had talked with Dixie and secured the accident scene. Settling her and the child in the back of their car, they’d covered the young mother with a blanket, put in a call for the detectives, and asked for Kelly Brackett to be notified. Now they were waiting for the investigators to finish with their questions.
“I guess that’s all for now,” the detective said. Looking over at the two officers, he asked, “You’re heading over to Rampart?”
The officers nodded as the detective told Dixie, “I’ll be in touch.”
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Kell was out the door before the police car came to a stop.
“Are you all right?” he anxiously queried as the officer opened the car door and Dixie moved to get out of the police car.
Dixie listlessly addressed his concern. “Fine.”
“What happened?”
Ignoring the question, Dixie looked up at her frenzied husband. “Can you take her?” she asked wearily. Emotionally drained, she sighed, “I’ve already carried her more than I should have.”
Pushing aside his concerns, Kell stooped down to take the baby from her arms, but her small fists maintained an iron-tight grip on Dixie’s uniform. Gently, he pried the child’s fingers open, then lifted her into his arms. “What happened?” he asked once more.
Sighing as tears brimmed in her eyes yet again, Dixie got out of the patrol car. “The car rolled over. Her mother . . . . . . . . died.”
As the group moved through the doors, Kell carefully handed the child to Mike Morton. “Check her over, have her admitted to pediatrics for observation. We’ll be in my office.”
As Mike headed toward the treatment room with the child in his arms, Dixie dispiritedly offered, “Her name is Stacey --- Stacey McCallister.” Suddenly, as if she had just realized their absence, she looked at Kell. “Where are the twins?” she demanded.
A smile danced in the corners of his mouth and his eyes twinkled as he put his arm around her shoulders, lightly teasing, “Sleep-in at the children’s museum. Julie arranged it. Remember?”
Wearily nodding, Dixie offered him a half-hearted smile; Kell ushered her, along with the two police officers, into his office.
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“How long will the baby need to stay here?”
“That all depends,” replied Kell, “on what Doctor Morton finds in his examination. I have no idea what sort of injury she might have sustained in the accident. After she’s been examined, she’ll be taken up to pediatrics for observation. They’ll probably keep her there for two or three days --- more if her injuries warrant.”
“I see,” answered the police officer as he finished jotting down his notes and closed the note pad. As he returned the pad to his pocket, the two policemen turned to leave. “I think that’s about all we need for now. I’m sure the detectives will be in touch with you in the next day or two. Thanks for your cooperation.” As they opened the door, one of the officers turned to Dixie and added, “That was a good thing you did, stopping to help and staying with her like that so she wasn’t alone . . . . . . . .” He nodded, then turned and followed his partner through the door.
Dixie nodded in response; as the police officer closed the door behind him, she turned to Kell . . . . . . . . gonna live my whole life through, lovin’ you. It had been an arduous evening and she was finding it more and more difficult to keep her tears at bay.
Kell pulled her close as he wrapped her in a hug. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?” he asked quietly as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
“Nothing serious,” she murmured, working at banishing the tears. Her hand, now wrapped in a bandage from the first aid kit, was not so badly cut that it couldn’t wait a little while to be treated. Finding strength and comfort in his embrace --- you are all I long for --- she made no attempt to move out of it.
After a moment in which he relished the feel of her in his arms, Kell softly queried, “Are you sure? You said something about carrying the baby more than you should have . . . . . . . .”
Dixie knew what was coming. She sighed as she pulled back from Kell’s embrace just enough to look into his eyes. “I know I shouldn’t have done it, but she was terrified, Kell. I couldn’t just leave her hanging in the car seat like that . . . . . . . .”
“No . . . . . . . . I know you couldn’t,” Kell quietly affirmed.
“And my back doesn’t hurt too much . . . . . . . .”
Kell tightened his arms around her and smiled at her as he stifled his concern. He kept his voice light. “Could we at least take a look . . . . . . . . just to satisfy the worried doctor in me?”
She smiled as she returned her head to his shoulder . . . . . . . . and straight to your arms I’ll go . . . . . . . . and snuggled back in-to the safe confines of his hug. “Sure, if it will make you happy.”
Kell held her tightly as he reached across the desk for the phone.
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Distracted, Joe Early idly plinked at the piano keys. Since Julie had come into his life, he found that he felt as if he were rattling around a much-too-empty house whenever he was there alone. And, at the moment, he was alone. Julie had taken the Brackett twins to a sleep-in that she’d helped arrange with the children’s museum. “A wonderful learning opportunity,” she had told him with a soft smile when she invited him to go along. It was an invitation he had hastily declined with the excuse of his being on call at Rampart that particular night. He just couldn’t see himself camped out in a sleeping bag in the children’s museum with twenty inquisitive, hyperactive five-year-olds . . . . . . . . Sometimes Joe thought she took being the twins’ teacher just a tad too seriously, but he had to admit that she certainly seemed to know what she was doing.
The jangle of the telephone interrupted his musings. Gratefully abandoning the tuneless plinking, he hurried to answer it.
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“Yes?” Kell called out in response to the knock on his office door.
“Thought you might like to know,” said Mike as he came through the door, “about the little girl . . . . . . . .”
Dixie looked up from where she was sitting on the sofa. “Is she all right?” . . . . . . . . tell me what I want to hear . . . . . . . .
“Just a few contusions; nothing serious. What happened to her, anyway? Where are her parents?”
Dixie heaved a deep, sad sort of sigh. “An accident. Their car rolled over. Her mother . . . . . . . . was . . . . . . . . killed . . . . . . . .” Her voice faded away . . . . . . . . even though I cry . . . . . . . .
“Oh . . . . . . . . I’m sorry to hear that.” Mike paused a moment, then told Dixie, “I sent her on up to pediatrics.”
Dixie nodded in confirmation . . . . . . . . there ain’t nobody worryin’ and there ain’t nobody cryin’ . . . . . . . . and settled back into her quiet reverie. Confused, Mike turned his back to her and quietly asked Kell, “Someone you knew?”
Kell shook his head, causing Mike to observe, “Dixie seems awfully upset . . . . . . . .”
“She was there when it happened, Mike,” he told the young doctor. “She stayed with the mother . . . . . . . . brought the baby in. Apparently there’s no other family . . . . . . . .”
Mike grimaced. “That’s pretty rough.”
Kell nodded his agreement. The office was silent for a minute. Dixie did not seem inclined to add anything to the conversation, so Kell offered, “Thanks, Mike,” as he leaned against the front of his desk. Another knock at the door caused him to comment under his breath, “Busy place tonight,” before calling out, “Yes?”
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Joe smiled across the examination table as Kell finished bandaging Dixie’s cut hand. “Know what your trouble is?”
“No,” he bantered, “but I’m sure you’ll tell me . . . . . . . .”
“You worry too much.”
Kell chuckled. “I suppose so,” he agreed as he helped Dixie sit up. “But it’s better than not worrying enough . . . . . . . .”
Joe shook his head in agreement. “I needed some diversion, anyway,” he offered in amusement.
With some small assistance from the head of Emergency, Dixie hopped off the examination table. “Why don’t you two go have a cup of coffee?”
“Coffee sounds like a great idea to me . . . . . . . . but why don’t you come with us?” Joe queried.
“I need to go up to pediatrics first . . . . . . . .”
“How about meeting us in the break room, then?” Kell quietly suggested.
“Fine,” she agreed. As she headed out the door, she added, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Puzzled, Joe watched her leave.
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“. . . . . . . . the police brought the two of them here,” Kell concluded as he set the two mugs of hot coffee on the table.
“Phew,” Joe sighed. “And now she’s gone off to check on her?”
Kell nodded.
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“Kell?” she softly queried as she brushed her hair.
Stretched out on the bed, he was almost within the grasp of sleep. “Hhhmmmm?”
“Wouldn’t you like to have another baby?”
His eyes popped open. “WHAT?!”
Dixie looked over at him. “A baby,” she repeated as she put the brush down and walked over to stand beside the bed.
Kell sat up and, as she reached the bed, he gently pulled her down next to him. Sighing contentedly, she settled herself with her head on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to have another baby?” she cajoled softly.
Fear clutched at his heart and caught in his throat. He knew how very much Dixie loved the twins, and he was certain she would like nothing better than to have a house full of children, but he also knew the risk to her life was far too great for them to ever even consider walking down that particular road again. “Dix, Sweetheart, you’re not . . . . . . . .”
Dixie heard the fear behind the question. “No, no . . . . . . . . no,” she hastily reassured, her voice tinged with sadness. “I didn’t mean like that, anyway, even though I wish we could . . . . . . . .”
Now Kell was thoroughly confused. The conversation had come at him out of the blue and he had no firm footing from which to proceed. He had absolutely no idea what she was getting at. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “what are we talking about?”
“We’re talking about Stacey --- what’d you think we . . . . . . . .?”
“Stacey?” he interrupted. Suddenly realizing that she was talking about the little girl whose mother had died in the accident, he asked, “Doesn’t she have family somewhere?”
“Her mother said there was no one . . . . . . . .” Her voice drifted off and Kell silently waited for her to continue. But there were no more words. Instead, she burst into tears.
“Hey . . . . . . . . hey, Love,” he soothed, “it’s all right . . . . . . . .”
“She begged me, Kell!” Dixie whimpered.
“Who?”
“Stacey’s mother,” she sniffed.
“Begged you for what?”
Dixie sniffled. “I promised her, Kell,” she whispered. “I promised her . . . . . . . . that I would take care of Stacey for her.” The tears, which she had finally managed to contain, fell anew.
“Ssshhhh,” Kell murmured as he held her in his arms. He waited for her crying to subside, then queried, “Are we talking about adopting this little girl, Dixie? Is that what you want to do?”
Dixie lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. He reached a hand up to wipe away her tears, momentarily wondering if she knew just how much her tear-stained cheeks affected him. “Couldn’t we, Kell . . . . . . . . couldn’t we?”
“If that’s what you want,” he replied softly.
“But what about you? What do you want?”
He sighed and, without thinking, tightened his arms around her. He supposed he owed her the truth. Still silent, he sighed once more as he pulled her into a hug.
“Kell?” she said, her voice filled with concern, as she shifted and moved to look into his eyes.
Kell couldn’t put into words what he felt as he looked into her beautiful blue eyes, now filled with consternation. He reached up to brush his hand through her long, dark blonde hair. “Dix,” he began.
“I love you,” she interrupted with a soft whisper and a gentle smile.
“I love you, too,” he quietly chuckled, interrupted as she leaned forward to kiss him. He returned the kiss, then gently pushed her away so that he could answer her. “I love you so much, Dixie. Having you here in my life is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Brushing his hand through her long, soft tresses once more, he murmured, “Lord knows I don’t deserve you . . . . . . . .”
Determined to finish, he worked at collecting his thoughts and went on. “I was so wrapped up in my work, I thought I’d destroyed any chance of having a family of my own. Then you came along and somehow you changed everything in my life.” He smiled at her as unbidden tears filled his dark eyes. He sighed as he pulled her down beside him and she cuddled up to him with her head once again resting on his shoulder.
He tightened his arm around her. “I never thought I would be a father . . . . . . . . but here we are . . . . . . . . and Kevin and Kelsie are the greatest kids in the world!” He paused a moment, then decisively added, “But I could not let you go through that again, Dix. I just can’t take the chance of losing you.” She remained silent as he kissed her forehead and then finished the thought. “Maybe that’s selfish, but I need you in my life. I need you with me.” He drew a deep breath. “But if it’s more kids that you want . . . . . . . .” He smiled as she shifted beside him. “You’re such a wonderful mother . . . . . . . . I could spend forever watching you with the children.” He hugged her tightly. “We can adopt an army of kids if that’s what you want.” He reached over and turned out the light. “I’ll call Martin in the morning and we’ll do whatever it is that we need to do to adopt Stacey.”
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“This isn’t like medicine, Kell; it’s just not that simple. I’m sorry.”
“Why not? It seems pretty simple to me. What is there to complicate it?”
“Children’s Services, for one. In California, adoptions go through the Department of Children’s Services, and, believe me, they don’t take kindly to being told how to do their job.”
“Martin, I don’t want to tell them anything about doing their job. I just want to help Dixie keep her promise to Stacey’s mother.” He paced the floor in front of the desk, exasperated. “For crying out loud!” he ranted. “The woman died right there in Dixie’s arms. She begged . . . . . . . . she made Dixie promise to take care of her little girl. Why is that so damned complicated?”
“It’s a process, Kell. You and Dixie have to apply for adoption, then be investigated and approved by Children’s Services. Once that’s all done --- and it can take a couple of years or more --- you get your names placed on a list to adopt a child --- when there’s one they think is right for your family. Right now, the waiting time is somewhere around seven years . . . . . . . .”
“Seven years!” Kell exploded. “Stacey needs someone now!” He was fast losing his patience with all this rigamarole and, although he realized it was not Martin’s fault, it was getting harder and harder to avoid taking his frustration out on the lawyer to whom he had come for assistance.
“And she’ll get someone,” Martin sighed patiently, “but it won’t be you and Dixie.”
Kell stopped his pacing. “You know this will break Dixie’s heart,” he muttered despondently as he sank down in the nearest chair. Battling to keep his temper in check, he finally looked up at the lawyer and begged, “There’s got to be some way . . . . . . . .”
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“Come on in, Kell,” invited Joe as he opened the front door.
“You’re in a good mood,” he teased. “Julie must be back!”
Joe laughed as they crossed the foyer to enter the living room. “Yep,” he replied matter-of-factly. Much too content at the moment to engage in their usual repartee, he grinned broadly.
“Daddy! Daddy!” exclaimed Kevin as he caught sight of Kell in the doorway and came running over, dragging Kelsie along with him. Kell laughed and stooped down to hug the two children.
“How was the museum?” he asked.
“Wow! It was great!” Kevin told him excitedly. “We saw big dinosaur bones!” Grinning, Kell tousled his son’s dark hair as he listened. “Know what? A brontosaurus was bigger than a whole house!”
“No kidding!”
Dixie laughed. “How about letting your dad come in and sit down?”
Kevin took hold of his hand and dragged him over to the sofa. He obligingly sat down beside Dixie. Excited, the twins scurried off on some mysterious mission known only to them as the grown-ups chuckled among themselves.
“Guess your museum sleep-in was a hit!” Kell gently teased Julie. “Did you manage to get any sleep?”
Julie laughed. “Sure!” she told him brightly. “All five-year olds run out of steam and go to sleep --- for a few minutes, anyway.” Yawning, she poured a mug of coffee and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he smiled. Sipping the coffee, he reflected on the circumstances that had brought Julie into their lives. Initially, the horrific accident had brought her there to care for the twins; now she was their teacher. Watching Joe and Julie together, he realized that, although he had once teased Dixie about playing matchmaker, in point of fact she had been the first one to recognize Joe’s feelings for Julie. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his friend so happy and, although Joe and Julie had only been married for a few months, somehow they gave an impression of having always been together. Content, he set the mug down on the coffee table, put his arm around Dixie’s shoulders, and made a concerted effort to concentrate on the conversation at hand.
“. . . . . . . . actually let them help put the skeleton of the dinosaur together for the display.”
Joe, sitting on the arm of Julie’s chair, laughed. “Guess that really made their day . . . . . . . . oops, night!”
Julie playfully swatted his arm as she laughed. “Five-year-olds are enchanted with dinosaurs. They thought it was great!”
“Sounds like it was definitely a hit with Kevin. Thanks for arranging it, Julie,” Kell said as he finished his coffee. He stood up as he added, “Now, I think it’s probably time for us to get going . . . . . . . . and let you two have some peace and quiet.”
He set about helping the twins gather up their things and in short order the Brackett clan was headed for home.
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“Do you have to go back to the hospital tonight?” Dixie called to him as she worked at cleaning up the dinner dishes.
Stacking up the plates still on the table, Kell hollered his answer back at her from the breakfast room. “Nope.”
She squirted dish soap into the sink and turned on the water. “Good,” she smiled. “It’ll be nice to spend a quiet evening with you.”
The twins had just about fallen asleep in their dinner plates and Dixie suspected they had not gotten too much sleep at the museum. But she supposed a missed night’s sleep was not all that big a deal in the grander scheme of things. So she had simply gone ahead and tucked them into bed before doing the dishes. The fact that they were both already fast asleep proved her theory about sleep not being a large part of their sleep-in, but she still thought it had been a great idea. Sleep they could always catch up on, and since both she and Kell were off for the next two days . . . . . . . .
Kell put the stack of plates on the counter and headed back to the breakfast room. But the table was cleared and there were no more dirty dishes to carry out. He returned to the kitchen empty-handed, coming up behind Dixie as she stood running hot water into the sink and snaking his arms around her waist. He snuggled up close behind her and nuzzled her neck.
“Mmmm,” she sighed. Dishes forgotten, she turned around in his arms to kiss him. Several times. . . . . . . . . I love you so. . . . . . . .
Holding her tightly in his arms, he kissed her back. Gradually realization dawned. “Uuummm . . . . . . . . Dix?” he murmured.
“Hhhmmmm?” She kissed him once again.
He concentrated on what he was trying to say as he returned the kiss. “Think maybe we oughtta . . . . . . . . turn off the water?”
“Oh!” she yelped.
Chagrined, she realized they now were standing in a puddle of water. Removing herself from his embrace, she turned around and shut off the water. “What a mess!” she moaned.
Kell laughed as he sloshed through the puddle of soapsuds and water to get the mop.
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“I sure don’t know how it always gets to be my turn to do the dishes,” grumbled Johnny as he slammed the plate into the dish rack.
“Careful there, John, you’ll break our plates!” taunted Chet Kelly with just a hint of laughter in his voice. He was busy planning the next appearance of Station 51’s Phantom, but he couldn’t resist taking a momentary pause to toss a jibe at the disgruntled paramedic.
Johnny glared. “Oh, be quiet, Chet!”
“Knock it off you two!” ordered Captain Stanley, coming in from his office to get a cup of coffee. “Aren’t you finished with that yet?” he asked as he reached into the cabinet for a cup that wasn’t there. “Got a clean cup there, Pal?”
Johnny sighed, rinsed the soap out of a cup, and handed it to the captain. Hank Stanley rolled his eyes as he took the still-dripping cup, filled it with coffee, and headed back toward his office. Mike Stoker got up and followed the captain out of the room while Marco worked at being inconspicuous as he flipped the television set’s channel dial.
“Hey, Roy,” Johnny pleaded, “how about drying?” He offered his partner his best woebegone expression, hoping Roy would take pity on him and come help with the chore. Johnny really didn’t mind doing his share, but dishwashing definitely topped his list of miserable tasks he despised doing around the station.
Roy looked up from the book he was reading. “Why not?” he sighed as Johnny grinned and tossed the dishtowel across the room.
“Sucker!” a delighted Phantom muttered under his breath. Roy threw him a dirty look as he turned around to pick up a coffee cup from the dish rack.
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Dixie set the coffee down on the table and settled herself on the sofa next to Kell. She filled a mug with the steaming, dark liquid and handed it to him.
“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he said with a smile as he settled back on the sofa. He put his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled up beside him. Kell sipped at the hot coffee, knowing he’d put the conversation off about as long as he possibly could.
“Dix?”
“Hhhmmmm?”
“I talked to Martin today.”
Surprised, she shifted around to look into his face. “I thought we were going tomorrow.”
“We were, but his schedule changed and he’ll be in court almost all day. You were tied up in that meeting with O’Brien, so I went over there myself after morning rounds.”
She looked at him, eyes bright, her beautiful face shining with expectation.
Sighing, Kell set the coffee down and turned to look at her. His voice filled with sadness. “We won’t be able to adopt Stacey.”
Her face fell. Tears flooded her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Why?” she cried.
His heart was breaking. He tried to pull her into a hug, but she resisted his effort, refusing to be comforted.
“Why?” she demanded again, her voice filled with the fury of cold anger.
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“Station Fifty-One, Engine Ten, Truck Ten, Engine One Twenty-Seven. Structure fire. Thirteen - four - thirty - seven Paramount Boulevard. One - three - four - three - seven Paramount Boulevard. Cross street: Rosemead. Time out: Twenty-one seventeen.”
“Station Fifty-one, K - M - G, Three - Six - Five,” responded Captain Stanley as he dashed off a second copy of the address for Roy and Johnny in the squad. As he responded to the dispatcher, the men pulled on turnout coats and helmets; as soon as Captain Stanley had acknowledged the call, both vehicles, lights flashing and sirens screaming, roared out into the night.
Flames were shooting through the roof of the deserted building when they arrived. Although they were not able to save the structure, they took solace in the fact that no one was injured. Any fire knocked down without injury to either firefighter or civilian was good work as far as they were concerned.
Mopping up took longer than they had anticipated, thanks to a couple of hot spots that had briefly flared up when they had just about declared the fire out. By the time they returned to the station, they were more than ready to flop into bed. With luck, the rest of the night would be quiet.
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Julie snuggled down in the bed. She had enjoyed the museum adventure with the children, but if the truth were to be told, she was really looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep.
Joe looked over at her and chuckled softly. “And I thought you had such a great time sleeping at the museum!”
Julie rolled over to look at him and smiled. “I did.” She paused a moment, then admitted, “But I am a little tired . . . . . . . .”
Joe just smiled as he leaned over and gave her a kiss.
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“Dixie, be reasonable! You can’t do that!”
“You . . . . . . . . just . . . . . . . . watch!” she averred, her voice filled with barely controlled anger. “They are not going to take her away from me.” Fueled by determination, she hastily pulled on a pair of jeans. She slipped her feet into her shoes and pulled a soft knit shirt over her head. “I promised, Kell,” she sobbed as she resolutely pushed past him and headed toward the front door. “I . . . . . . . . promised . . . . . . . . her . . . . . . . . mother!”
“You can’t just march in there and take her out of the hospital!”
She snatched up the car keys. “They . . . . . . . . are . . . . . . . . not . . . . . . . . taking . . . . . . . . her . . . . . . . . away!”
Kell fought to keep his own anger in check. Although he had expected her to react badly to the news . . . . . . . . and even though he understood her anger . . . . . . . . her sudden decision to rush over to Rampart and simply take the baby out of the hospital had caught him by surprise. As she reached the front door, he knew he had to stop her somehow, and he and grabbed hold of her arm. She tried to pull away, but he was stronger. “Dix . . . . . . . . Sweetheart . . . . . . . . Love . . . . . . . . please!” he vainly pleaded.
She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but she did not have enough strength. Gently overpowering her, Kell pulled her into his arms and held her. She continued to struggle, flailing at him with her fists and trying to push him away. Caught in her fury, she was beyond all reasoning. He settled for simply holding onto her until she’d exhausted herself with the effort and collapsed against his chest in tears. He rocked her in his arms until she’d wept her way through the pain and the anger, then picked her up, carried her down the hall, and gently laid her on the bed. He spent the rest of the sleepless night holding her in his arms as she sobbed in despair.
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“Why’s Mommie sad?”
Kell looked over at Kevin as he dished up scrambled eggs and toast. Dixie had finally fallen asleep around dawn, and he was hoping she’d be better able to cope with her heartbreak over the baby’s situation after she got some badly needed rest.
“Well,” Kell said as he set the two plates on the breakfast table in front of the twins and then sat down with them, “Mommie tried to help a lady who was hurt in an accident. The lady asked her to take care of her baby . . . . . . . .”
“Can’t the mommy take care of her baby?” Kelsie interrupted.
Continue!