Chapter 38. (February 6 & 7. Olivia's house, then the county hospital.)
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Olivia, as she scooted across the floor on her knees check Ted for a pulse. Blood welled up between her fingers as she put pressure on the bullet holes in Ted's chest and sobbed, "Please, Teddy, don't go. Don't die on me."
The giant groaned as she pressed on his wounds.
"Steve!" Olivia's voice cut the air as her whole demeanor changed and she started giving orders, "I need towels. They're in the top drawer to the right of the sink. Give me as many as you can find."
Ted whimpered, "God, O, it hurts so much."
"I know, Teddy," she soothed, "but I have to slow the bleeding. You're in a bad way."
"I know," he agreed. After a pause, he added, "I'm going to die."
"Steve, where the hell are those towels?"
Over the wail of the arriving siren, he shouted, "Right here!"
The siren stopped, and now the only sound was the rasping breath of a dying man. After a moment, a pounding on the door disrupted the quiet.
Steve called out, "It's over guys, come on in."
Beechie and Kenney came in to secure the scene, and Live barked out, "Call an ambulance. Caucasian male, thirty-eight years old, multiple GSW to chest and extremities. Losing blood fast. I'll need eight units of O-Neg and an OR standing by."
As Kenney hustled out to make the call, Beechie sat Steve down and checked over his wounds. The rules of triage demanded he help those who could be helped first, and O was too intent on trying to save a dead man to let him do anything for her. He folded up a clean towel and used another to bind it in place to maintain pressure on Steve's shoulder wound. Then he found a bag of frozen peas to use as an icepack for the knot on his head. Finally, he got some wet paper towels and washed the cut on Steve's palm and dressed the wound with a sterile gauze pad from the first-aid kit Kenney had finally brought in.
Keith came in through the mudroom and stood in the doorway, watching.
"It's getting hard to breathe, O."
"Blood's filling your chest cavity, Teddy." Looking wildly around, she started pointing and issuing orders again.
"I need to do a chest tube." Pointing to the sink, she ordered, "Cut the spray nozzle off and cut me a foot of hose." Indicating the cutlery set on the counter, she demanded, "I need the fillet knife, too."
She turned back to her patient, fully expecting her orders to be followed. When no one jumped to do her bidding, she exclaimed, "Come on, people, MOVE!"
Ted stilled her hands from unbuttoning his shirt, then his hands fell back to his sides. Gasping, he told her, "It's over…O…I'm done."
As he watched, Steve became aware of the change in the monster that had wreaked so much havoc this morning. He was no longer angry or violent, and it wasn't just the change that sometimes comes over a dying man at the end. Ted was sane. His last moments on earth were to be lucid and clear- headed. Steve felt a knot form in his throat and tears sting his eyes. He couldn't decide if it was a cruel or a kind twist of fate.
"You are not going to die in my kitchen, Theodore Roosevelt Baer," Olivia insisted as she began crying again. "Not if I can help it."
Keith came over and awkwardly eased himself to the floor beside Ted and Liv. In that moment, the rest of the world receded, and it was just the three of them, TKO, like it used to be, but gone terribly, terribly wrong. Olivia's bloodied hands still rested on her old friend's chest when Keith covered them with his own and said, "He's right, O. It snowed most of last night, and the roads are a mess. It'll take the ambulance at least half an hour to get here. He'll never make it. There's nothing you can do."
Tears streaming down her face, Olivia whispered, "I have to do something."
Wheezing softly, Ted told her, "You're here…enough."
As he brought his hands up to Keith and Liv's, she nodded her understanding.
Looking at Keith, Ted asked, "I made this happen?"
Keith nodded and said kindly, "I'm afraid so, buddy. You went off your meds."
Ted began to tremble, and without hesitation, Keith removed his coat and covered his dying friend. "Better?"
Ted nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment.
Liv gently felt for a pulse at his neck, and when her eyes met Keith's, she said, "Still there." She scooted around to cradle his head in her lap.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were little sobs from Liv, Keith's sniffles, and the sound of Ted's labored breathing. Then Ted seemed to rally for a moment.
"I'm scared, guys! I don't want to go to hell. Please don't let me die like this!"
Olivia hushed him. "It's ok, Teddy, it's ok."
The exertion of shouting left him gasping for breath again when he pleaded, "But O…how can…God…forgive me?"
"Shhhh," she hushed him. "I've forgiven you Teddy, and so has Keith."
Ted rolled his eyes to Keith for confirmation, and the deputy nodded. "You weren't yourself, pal. You couldn't help it."
"Now, think, Teddy, if two flawed and selfish mortals can forgive you, how much greater will God's boundless and perfect forgiveness be?"
"But what…if He doesn't…forgive me?" Ted's breathing was becoming more labored and erratic with each word. It wouldn't be long now.
"Just ask him, Ted, and he will," Keith advised.
Staring heavenward, tears streaming from his unseeing eyes, Ted did just that. "God…sorry…please forgive…" He mouthed the word "me," but had no breath left to finish it.
Between hiccoughing sobs, Liv smoothed the sweat soaked hair from her friend's forehead and uttered words of comfort as Keith gently stroked his arm and held his hand.
"It's ok, Teddy, we forgive you. I forgive you, and I love you. When I think of you, I'll only remember the good times. I promise I'll always think of you and what it was like before you got sick. I love you Teddy, and Keith and I forgive you and God forgives you. I promise, Teddy. I promise." Tears fell from her face and onto his as she told him over and over that he was loved and forgiven.
The giant smiled gratefully at his friends, gave one last, rasping sigh, and fell still. Olivia gently closed his eyes, and Keith covered him with a blanket Kenney had brought from his car. For a long while after that, the only sound was a woman's quiet weeping.
Beechie and Kenney took statements from Steve and Olivia while they waited for the ambulance. Kenney explained that after Liv had spoken to Keith, he'd realized he'd forgotten to congratulate her, and when he tried to call back and got no answer, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't convince the sheriff, though until one of Liv's neighbors had called reporting gunshots. Then it was just a matter of negotiating the slippery roads.
When the ambulance finally arrived, there was some debate about who should ride in it.
"Put Ted on the gurney."
"No, O," Kenney told her, "I called for a hearse. It should be here within the hour. You and Steve should go."
"Ok, then Steve should ride. I'll take the jeep and follow along."
"No way, Liv," Steve insisted. "You've been shot." Steve carefully avoided saying, 'I shot you.' The thought alone sickened him, and given the condition he was in already, that was a recipe for disaster.
She looked at her bloodied bicep and acknowledged her injury for the first time. "Hmmm. So, that's what it feels like." She shrugged, "Bullet went straight through, nothing's broken, and the bleeding's stopped. Hurts like the dickens, but I'll be fine." She screwed up her face in confusion and asked, "How did it happen anyway?"
Steve visibly paled at her question and said simply, "I'll tell you later. Now why don't you lie down and let the paramedics look after you, sweetheart?"
"A concussion and a bullet hole beats just a bullet hole any day, Steve. You take the gurney."
The argument finally ended when Beechie pulled rank.
"Lieutenant Sloan, you are on loan to the Clearfield County Sheriff's Department from the LAPD, and local authority prevails. That makes me the ranking officer here. I suspect you're in shock. That bullet is still in your shoulder, probably making a mess of things. You can barely stand, and three times since I've been here, I've noticed you swallowing like you're trying not to puke. You squint at the light, and that means you have a concussion. You can lie down on that gurney now, or I can help the paramedics make you."
Steve cast Olivia a dark look as she gave a satisfied, "Hmph," but he took his place on the gurney without another word. He knew he was in no shape to struggle with Beechie.
"It's all right, baby," Olivia reassured him as she grabbed her purse and reached for her keys by the kitchen door. "I'll be right behind you in the jeep, and I'll make sure they treat you real good at the hospital."
As gently as possible, Beechie stopped her and indicated her right hand.
"O, if the swelling is any indication, that hand is busted. You've also been shot, and I know you're in shock."
"I'm fine, Beechie."
"Olivia," he said softly, "one of your oldest friends just died in your arms, at the hands of your fiancé, because he was going to rape you and kill both of you. When all that hits home, you're going to fall apart. He rides on the gurney only because of that knot on his head. You ride up front with the driver."
If she hadn't looked so pathetic with her lower lip stuck out in a pout, and if he hadn't known how serious the situation really was, Steve would have indulged in a "Hmph" of his own. As it was, he was simply grateful Beechie was making sure she got the necessary medical attention.
Liv looked thoughtful for a moment before she conceded, "I guess I am just running on adrenaline right now, huh?"
"Yes, O, you are," Beechie was using the patient tone of a parent with a child.
"Ok, I'll go in the ambulance, but I want to stay with Steve until I see his CAT scan and the x-ray of that shoulder. I can't operate with a busted hand, but I can sure as heck advise and supervise if need be."
"No promises, Olivia."
She gave Beechie a disgusted look, but didn't argue as she climbed into the cab of the ambulance and only let the driver buckle her in after she tried to do it herself and yelped in pain at the complaints of her broken hand. Keith rode with Beechie, and they left Kenney to wait for the hearse.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, Steve asked, "What time is it?"
"Ten fifty-seven," the attendant said, glancing at his watch once the gurney was situated. "Why?"
"I just spent less than an hour in hell, and it feels like I've been there all my life," Steve sighed.
"No offense, sir, and not to make light of your injuries, but think of how it's going to feel to Dr. O when she finally realizes what's happened. I hear she's been dodging Ted Baer for over a decade."
Steve didn't know what to say back, so he lapsed into silence, simply grateful that he and Olivia were alive.
By the time they reached the hospital, Olivia was sound asleep in the front of the ambulance. She didn't even twitch when Beechie lifted her out and carried her to an examination room. Steve was carted off for x-rays and a CAT scan, and then he was taken to surgery to remove the bullet from his shoulder. When he came to in the recovery room, he was at first surprised to see a young man with dark crew-cut hair and dark eyes watching him instead of his dad, but then he recalled what had happened.
Steve looked the younger man over and said, "Fancy meeting you here."
Keith gave him a reluctant smile and said, "It should have been me. The least I could do was be here when you woke up, and I figured O probably wouldn't want you to wake up alone and hurting in a strange place."
"I appreciate it. How is Liv, and why isn't she here?"
A shadow crossed Keith's face unnoticed and he said, "She's still sleeping. How are you feeling?"
Steve narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do you really care?"
Keith noticed there was no sarcasm in Steve's voice, just genuine curiosity. A grin split his face and he said quietly, "Yeah, in spite of my best intentions, beach bum, I really do give a damn."
Steve smiled back weakly and said, "Well, in that case, I feel just a little better knowing that you do."
"You're a good guy, and I just can't help myself."
Both men laughed at his remark, then Steve asked, "Why aren't you with Liv?"
"Look, beach bum, for twelve years I've prayed every day that Olivia would come back home to me. Never once in all that time did I dream that she would come home with the likes of you, but you treat her well. You make her happy. God knows everyone can tell you love her. I can live with that. It's all I ever wanted for her. I just thought I would be the one who did all those things for her. I never imagined that she would move on in the world without me. As long as you're good to her, we'll get along."
"Uh, thanks, Keith. But I meant why aren't you sitting with Liv now?"
Keith flushed a bit and said, "I know, but I just had to get that off my chest."
"So?"
"Huh?"
"Why aren't you with Liv?"
The shadow came over Keith's face again, and this time Steve realized something was wrong. "Keith?" he demanded, trying to sit up but being forced to lie still by the nausea that was still plaguing him. "What's the matter with her?"
Keith took a deep breath and said, "I will only tell you if you give me your word that you will stay right here until the doctor gives you the ok to go to her. If you try something stupid like running out of here to go sit by her side before you can safely stand up, I will call the orderly and have him strap you down, got it?"
Steve nodded his understanding.
"I have your word?"
"Yes. Now what the hell's wrong with her?"
"She seems to be in a coma, and we don't know why."
Keith was touched by the anguish he saw as Steve closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. When he looked at Keith again, his eyes were red-rimmed, but he was in control.
"What do we know?"
"The CAT scan shows no brain injury of any kind. Nothing from the action today, nothing from other causes. She didn't lose much blood from the gunshot, and they never put her under general anesthetic."
"What do they think has happened?"
Keith shrugged, "There's no apparent reason for it. The best anyone has suggested is the stress was too much for her and she went into hiding inside her own head."
Steve thought a moment, and said, "She told me she slept for days after her house burned, but I think they drugged her then."
Keith nodded, "I think you're right, but I can't imagine they sedated her that heavily. Maybe this is the same kind of thing. I'll have them check her records."
The two men sat in silence for a few moments. Then Steve said, "Keith?"
"Hmm?"
"I appreciate your sitting with me, but I'd feel better knowing you had them check on Liv. Could you do that and then go sit with her, please?"
"Ok. Anything I can do for you first?"
"Not right now, thanks, but I'd like to call my dad after they move me to a room. Can you make sure the operator will let me make a long distance call?"
Keith nodded, "I'll give her my calling card number. When you call the switchboard, ask for Meg Baer."
Steve tensed at the name. "That's Ted's sister, isn't it?"
Keith nodded. "She's a gem, Steve. Don't hold what Ted did against her."
"Ok. Thanks, Keith, for everything." Steve did not fail to note that it was the first time since they'd met that Keith had called him by name.
Several hours later, Steve was resting comfortably in his own room. The only thing keeping him there was the doctor's promise that if he rested until dinnertime, he'd let Steve go sit with Liv undisturbed for the rest of the evening. Until then, he was comfortable knowing that Keith, Kenney, Beechie, Jud, May, and other friends of hers were taking turns watching over her. At least if she woke up, she wouldn't be alone.
He picked up the phone and dialed the switchboard. As he waited for the operator, he wondered why Meg Baer was still at work. He also wondered why she would help him. He'd just killed her brother, and she should be with her family. He was startled when a voice finally came on the line.
"Clearfield County Hospital. How may I direct your call?
"Meg Baer, please."
"This is Meg. How can I help you?"
Steve introduced himself and gave her several numbers to try to reach his dad.
"Ok…Steve. I'll find him for you, and I'll ring your room when I've got him on the line. Until then, you just rest, all right?"
"Um, yeah, and thanks." The girl didn't hang up right away, so Steve asked what he'd been wondering earlier. "Meg?"
"Yes?"
"You know what I did, don't you?"
A pause. "Yes." She didn't sound angry or upset.
"I'm sorry, Meg."
A much longer pause, and then she spoke with a tremor in her voice.
"You didn't kill Teddy, Steve. Schizophrenia did that twelve years ago when it took his mind. You just stopped the monster that had been using him."
Another pause.
"I…I'm glad you were there to help Olivia. I've heard they'll let you see her after dinner."
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm off at six. I'll stop by before I go. I'll probably meet you then."
Steve found himself smiling. "Ok."
"Now, let me find your dad for you. I'm sure you'll feel much better after you talk to him."
"You're probably right. Thanks again."
A few minutes later, the phone rang, and when Steve answered it, his dad wasted no time getting to the point.
"Steve, what happened? Why are you in the hospital? Are you and Olivia ok?"
"It's a long story, Dad. I'll be just fine."
Mark knew from what wasn't said, that there was more.
"How's Olivia?"
"We're…" Steve's voice cracked, and he tried again. "We're not sure. She's comatose and no one knows why."
"Hold on a second, son."
Steve heard his dad mutter a few words, and when he came back on, he told Steve exactly what he needed to hear.
"Jesse's booking me on the next available flight to Pittsburgh, son. Now, from the beginning, tell me what happened."
Steve sighed with relief, and in fits and starts, fighting tears the entire time, he told his dad the whole, awful story.
"I had to do it, Dad. I didn't want to, but she'd shot him five times, and couldn't take him down."
"You had no choice, son."
"Liv was amazing. She fought like hell and never gave him an inch. I could hear them struggling all through the house. She actually created an opening for me to fire, and that's when I got him."
"She's a smart girl, Steve. She knew what had to be done."
"It makes me sick that I hurt her by accident."
"She'll understand, son. It was unavoidable."
Steve was silent a long time, and then he said, "Something else happened, Dad. I don't know what to make of it."
"What's that?"
"Well, when it was all over, she tried to save him."
"She's a doctor, Steve," Mark said, mildly amused in spite of all he'd heard, "That's what doctors do."
"I know, Dad," Steve said with an exasperated sigh. "But there's more. When she realized she couldn't save him, she told him she loved him and she forgave him. And she *meant* it, Dad, because she *promised* him. She and Keith both *forgave* him. After all he had done to them both, they gave him his dying wish and forgave him."
"It sounds like that troubles you, son."
It was a long time before Steve responded, and when he did, his voice was filled with dismay.
"I don't know if I could have done that, Dad. I know Olivia's really good inside…righteous is the word for it, I guess. Like the Golden Rule and turn the other cheek. I've known that for a long time, but Keith surprised me. He was right there, too, and when Ted got cold, he covered him with his coat. He held the guy's hand and told him it was all ok." Steve wanted to say more, but he choked on his words.
Mark filled the silence. "He's Olivia's friend, Steve. They're probably a lot alike, and he has history with Ted, just like Olivia."
"When I woke up after surgery, he was here so I wouldn't be alone, and he set it up so I could call you."
"What are you trying to say, son?"
After an extended silence, with a sigh of resignation, Steve admitted the thought that had been on his mind since he watched Ted die. "I could never have forgiven Ted, and I don't think I would have been as nice to Keith as he was to me if the situation had been reversed. He's a really good guy, Dad. I'm not that good, that kind, and decent. I guess…well…Keith's a better man than I am, Dad, and I feel a little ashamed."
"And you're afraid that he might be better for Olivia, too, aren't you?"
That was the crux of the problem, wasn't it?
"I guess so, kind of."
"Steve, you listen to me," his dad said gravely. "You are my son, and I love you, but right now, I'm talking man to man. You are as good as they come, Steve. He is no better. He was able to forgive Ted because he had a history with the man. He knows about his redeeming qualities, you don't. If it had been Jesse, or Jack Stewart, you'd have forgiven him."
"I don't know, Dad."
"Well, I do. And as for him sitting with you, he probably knew that's what Olivia would want."
Steve smiled into the phone then, and even though he was three thousand miles away, Mark could still hear him brighten. "He did mention that. Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome, son. Now, I have to go pack. I'll see you in a few hours."
"Ok, see you soon, and don't forget a heavy coat and some long underwear."
Mark chuckled, "I won't son."
Steve woke to the sound of subdued voices nearby. He opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a chair beside Liv's bed, still holding her hand. He had no idea how long ago he'd fallen asleep like that. He looked around to find the source of the voices, and saw Jud tap his dad on the arm and point in his direction.
Mark came over to greet him, saying, "Hello, son. How are you feeling?"
Steve rose, slowly, and was pleased to notice he didn't feel nauseous this time.
"I've got a headache and I'm sore, Dad, but I'm doing all right. It's good to see you."
Needing some kind of physical comfort, Steve reached out to his dad for a hug, and Mark responded carefully so as not to jostle his injured shoulder. Stepping back from the embrace, Mark studied his son's face carefully and asked, "Are you sure you're ok?"
Steve nodded, and was punished with a minor bout of dizziness. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine." He reassured Mark when he recovered. "Why so worried?"
"Well, this is the first serious action you've seen since the shooting, and…"
"Oh, yeah. I hadn't even thought of that, Dad. I think I'm fine, but if there's trouble, I'll let you know."
Mark squeezed his good shoulder and nodded as Steve turned to include Jud in their conversation. "I see you two have met."
"Yep," Jud responded, "I picked him up at the airport."
Confused, Steve asked, "I didn't even tell anybody he was flying in, how did you know?"
Mark chuckled and said, "That switchboard operator is one heck of a watchdog, son. When Jesse called to give you my flight information, she said, 'Detective Sloan is resting now, and I'd rather not disturb him. If you'll leave your name and number, I'll have him call you back at dinnertime.' When Jesse explained the situation, she said, 'Well, I'm sure you don't expect Detective Sloan to meet the plane in his condition, so why bother him with the details,' and she connected him with Jud instead."
Jud laughed, "That's Meg. She takes it personally when someone disturbs the patients with trivial stuff."
Changing the subject, Steve looked from his dad to Olivia and asked, "Technically, you're her personal physician, right, Dad?"
"I guess so, why?"
"Would you examine her? I'll feel better knowing you've checked her over."
Jud excused himself to get a cup of coffee while Mark did as his son asked, then pulled up a chair, and sat down to talk.
"Her condition's stable, son. Heart rate and respiration are good. Blood pressure's fine. Except for her obvious injuries nothing's wrong."
"Then why's she in a coma, Dad?"
"I don't know."
"Can you tell me how long it will last?"
Mark shook his head, and when he saw his son fighting tears, he put his arms around him again.
Late the next morning, Steve woke up in his own room with his dad by his side. He couldn't remember leaving Liv's room and his dad explained that he'd been half asleep and had just taken some pain medication for his shoulder when they talked him into getting some real rest. Liv's friends had taken shifts through the night, and she'd never been alone.
After breakfast, a shave, and a change into the pajamas and robe his dad had brought from home, Steve went to spend the day at Liv's bedside.
"She looks so frail, Dad."
"That's just because she's so small, son. She's really doing quite well, and I suspect she's a lot tougher than anyone's ever given her credit for."
"Then why isn't she waking up?"
Mark shook his head and shrugged.
A voice from the hall said, "I think it's just her way of dealing with stress. She's done this a time or two before. Scares the snot out of the rest of us, but she wakes feeling fine."
A pretty, young woman with shiny brown hair and a round face walked into the room and extended her hand, first to Steve, then to Mark. "You must be Steve, which means you're Dr. Sloan. I'm Meg Baer. I did drop by last night, Steve, but you were already asleep in the chair, and since you didn't hear me come in, I decided it was best not to disturb you."
Mark looked askance, and grinning, Steve said, "The watchdog."
Now it was Meg's turn to be confused until Mark explained.
"Thank you for looking out for my son, Meg," Mark said with a smile.
"After what my brother put him through, letting him sleep was the least I could do."
"Your brother?" Mark asked, and then said in shock, "Ted?"
Meg nodded.
"I'm very sorry for your loss."
Meg wiped away a stray tear and said, "Thank you. It hurts some, but I've been missing my brother for years because of his illness, Dr. Sloan. His death just sort of finalized something that started a long time ago."
Turning to Steve, she said, "I have been sent as a messenger from the gang. They figure if you hear this from me, you'll believe it. We have all been talking, and we've decided if you and Liv are willing, the wedding is still on for Valentine's Day."
Mark's eyebrows shot up at this new information, and Steve explained briefly.
"I proposed and she accepted a couple nights ago, Dad. When we woke up the next morning, it was too early to call California. It would have been something like three o'clock. So, we decided that after she made all her calls, I would start making mine. Ted clobbered me before I had the chance to call you, and after it was all over, well, other things seemed more important."
Mark nodded. "I understand, son."
"Anyway," Meg continued, "we figure red and white will be the right colors, and when she called Lou she mentioned that she wanted the cloud nine girls to be bridesmaids along with someone named Amanda. We figured if you would contact her, we could get her measurements and have a dress made for her to try on by the time she arrived. Her little boy…"
"CJ?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, Liv wants him to be the ring bearer."
A weak voice came from the bed saying, "Dark red and ivory, satin backed crepe and velvet trim, empire waists and long skirts, sweetheart necklines. No butt bows or pouffy sleeves. I want Dion to tend the guest book." Opening her eyes, Olivia said, "Hi, Meg. It's good to see you. I'm sorry about Ted. When's the service?"
Meg and Liv talked for several minutes with Steve and Mark watching and grinning. Olivia promised to be at the funeral, and she questioned Meg closely to make sure she and her brother Tom and their parents were ok with the wedding following so hard on the heels of Ted's death. Then they made Liv an appointment to get measured for her wedding gown and discussed wedding plans and bridesmaids' dresses until Mark and Steve got bored and interrupted.
After Meg left, Steve and Mark tried to get Liv to rest.
"Come on, guys," she whined. "If what you lead me to believe is true, I've been asleep for a day and a half, I'm getting married in a week, and I haven't even been measured for my dress yet. Now is not the time for rest."
"Olivia," Mark said sternly, "You know as well as I do that a coma is *not* the same as rest."
She turned her most pitiful look on her future father-in-law and said, "Give me the telephone, my purse, and two hours, and I promise I'll do nothing but lie here helplessly for the rest of the day…Dad." She gave a sweet smile, and Mark's heart melted.
"I know what you're doing, Olivia," he said.
Smiling wider as Steve watched, she said, "And you're powerless to resist, aren't you?"
"Two hours," Mark said. "Not a minute more."
"Ok, Dad," she grinned.
"Thanks, Dad," Steve added with a smile.
Shaking a warning finger at his son, Mark said laughingly, "You, I can still resist, and when she goes to sleep, you go back to your room for some rest, too, mister."
"Ok." Turning to Olivia, Steve handed over her purse and asked, "Why don't Dad and I go call Jesse, Amanda, and the rest of my guests while you make your calls, then we can talk until your two hours is up?"
Liv nodded. "Sounds good," she said, taking out a credit card and handing it to him. Then she took a small notepad out of her purse and wrote down some names and phone numbers. "If you aunt can't arrange the flights on such short notice, that card should be enough to rent a private jet. Have her make flight arrangements for the people on that list, too, first class all the way for everyone. Ask her to try to have them all arrive on the same day, and see if she can arrange some kind of meet-and-greet reception at one of the airport hotels. Come back in about forty-five minutes, ok?"
Steve took the card and the list and said, "All right. See you soon."
Forty-five minutes later found Steve back in Liv's room as she hung up the phone. Mark had agreed to help Casey and Irene choose the menu for the reception, and at Jud and Steve's suggestion, he decided to have them cater the rehearsal dinner, too. After selecting the menus, Jud was going to take Mark around to the Grange, the VFW, and a couple other organizations to find a place to hold the rehearsal dinner.
"Man, your aunt works fast, babe." Liv said as she turned to smile at him. "I had just told my friend Jeffrey the news when call waiting beeped. He came back on the line telling me, 'Olivia, some pushy broad named Dora Sloan wants to book the munchkin and me on a flight Pittsburgh for a wedding. Tell me this is a bad joke.'"
Steve laughed. "'Pushy broad,' huh? That's Aunt Dora all right. What did you tell him?"
"That I hadn't yet met my fiancé's aunt but that was her name, she was a travel agent, and he should accept the plane tickets."
Smiling, Steve said, "You didn't need to do that. She wouldn't have let him say no."
Silence settled between them. It quickly grew heavy and uncomfortable. They both tried to break it at once.
"Liv, I…"
"Look, Steve…"
They chuckled uneasily and lapsed into silence again. After a bit, Olivia slid over on the bed and patted the mattress to indicate that Steve should sit beside her. He obeyed, and she gently pulled him down to rest his head on her chest. As her good hand made slow, gentle circles on his back, she said simply, "Talk to me."
Steve gave a deep, shuddering sigh, and said, "I let you down, Liv. I failed to protect you, I shot you, and I killed your friend." His ragged breathing told her he was crying. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? I can call everyone and cancel right now if you want. I'm so sorry, Liv."
"You shot me?"
"Uh-huh. As Ted staggered back from my first shot, you rose up in his arms, and I pulled the trigger. The slug went through you…and hit him in the chest. I heard you…cry out when you were hit. He fell back with you in his arms, but I couldn't see where you'd been wounded because the table was in the way. Everything was so quiet. For a moment, I thought…I thought I'd killed you, too. I thought my world was going to fall apart. Then you started screaming. Oh, God, I'm sorry, Liv."
"Shhh." She hushed him softly. "You saved my life, Steve. You did what you had to. Don't ever be sorry for that. I'm not."
She continued to rub his back and soothe him until he fell asleep in her arms.
Hours later, when Mark and Jud returned to confirm that the menus had been selected and plans were in place for the rehearsal dinner and the reception, they found the love birds soundly sleeping in each other's arms.
"He was supposed to go back to his room," Mark said with a rueful grin.
"As long as they're both resting, does it matter?" Jud asked.
"I guess not."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Olivia, as she scooted across the floor on her knees check Ted for a pulse. Blood welled up between her fingers as she put pressure on the bullet holes in Ted's chest and sobbed, "Please, Teddy, don't go. Don't die on me."
The giant groaned as she pressed on his wounds.
"Steve!" Olivia's voice cut the air as her whole demeanor changed and she started giving orders, "I need towels. They're in the top drawer to the right of the sink. Give me as many as you can find."
Ted whimpered, "God, O, it hurts so much."
"I know, Teddy," she soothed, "but I have to slow the bleeding. You're in a bad way."
"I know," he agreed. After a pause, he added, "I'm going to die."
"Steve, where the hell are those towels?"
Over the wail of the arriving siren, he shouted, "Right here!"
The siren stopped, and now the only sound was the rasping breath of a dying man. After a moment, a pounding on the door disrupted the quiet.
Steve called out, "It's over guys, come on in."
Beechie and Kenney came in to secure the scene, and Live barked out, "Call an ambulance. Caucasian male, thirty-eight years old, multiple GSW to chest and extremities. Losing blood fast. I'll need eight units of O-Neg and an OR standing by."
As Kenney hustled out to make the call, Beechie sat Steve down and checked over his wounds. The rules of triage demanded he help those who could be helped first, and O was too intent on trying to save a dead man to let him do anything for her. He folded up a clean towel and used another to bind it in place to maintain pressure on Steve's shoulder wound. Then he found a bag of frozen peas to use as an icepack for the knot on his head. Finally, he got some wet paper towels and washed the cut on Steve's palm and dressed the wound with a sterile gauze pad from the first-aid kit Kenney had finally brought in.
Keith came in through the mudroom and stood in the doorway, watching.
"It's getting hard to breathe, O."
"Blood's filling your chest cavity, Teddy." Looking wildly around, she started pointing and issuing orders again.
"I need to do a chest tube." Pointing to the sink, she ordered, "Cut the spray nozzle off and cut me a foot of hose." Indicating the cutlery set on the counter, she demanded, "I need the fillet knife, too."
She turned back to her patient, fully expecting her orders to be followed. When no one jumped to do her bidding, she exclaimed, "Come on, people, MOVE!"
Ted stilled her hands from unbuttoning his shirt, then his hands fell back to his sides. Gasping, he told her, "It's over…O…I'm done."
As he watched, Steve became aware of the change in the monster that had wreaked so much havoc this morning. He was no longer angry or violent, and it wasn't just the change that sometimes comes over a dying man at the end. Ted was sane. His last moments on earth were to be lucid and clear- headed. Steve felt a knot form in his throat and tears sting his eyes. He couldn't decide if it was a cruel or a kind twist of fate.
"You are not going to die in my kitchen, Theodore Roosevelt Baer," Olivia insisted as she began crying again. "Not if I can help it."
Keith came over and awkwardly eased himself to the floor beside Ted and Liv. In that moment, the rest of the world receded, and it was just the three of them, TKO, like it used to be, but gone terribly, terribly wrong. Olivia's bloodied hands still rested on her old friend's chest when Keith covered them with his own and said, "He's right, O. It snowed most of last night, and the roads are a mess. It'll take the ambulance at least half an hour to get here. He'll never make it. There's nothing you can do."
Tears streaming down her face, Olivia whispered, "I have to do something."
Wheezing softly, Ted told her, "You're here…enough."
As he brought his hands up to Keith and Liv's, she nodded her understanding.
Looking at Keith, Ted asked, "I made this happen?"
Keith nodded and said kindly, "I'm afraid so, buddy. You went off your meds."
Ted began to tremble, and without hesitation, Keith removed his coat and covered his dying friend. "Better?"
Ted nodded, and closed his eyes for a moment.
Liv gently felt for a pulse at his neck, and when her eyes met Keith's, she said, "Still there." She scooted around to cradle his head in her lap.
For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were little sobs from Liv, Keith's sniffles, and the sound of Ted's labored breathing. Then Ted seemed to rally for a moment.
"I'm scared, guys! I don't want to go to hell. Please don't let me die like this!"
Olivia hushed him. "It's ok, Teddy, it's ok."
The exertion of shouting left him gasping for breath again when he pleaded, "But O…how can…God…forgive me?"
"Shhhh," she hushed him. "I've forgiven you Teddy, and so has Keith."
Ted rolled his eyes to Keith for confirmation, and the deputy nodded. "You weren't yourself, pal. You couldn't help it."
"Now, think, Teddy, if two flawed and selfish mortals can forgive you, how much greater will God's boundless and perfect forgiveness be?"
"But what…if He doesn't…forgive me?" Ted's breathing was becoming more labored and erratic with each word. It wouldn't be long now.
"Just ask him, Ted, and he will," Keith advised.
Staring heavenward, tears streaming from his unseeing eyes, Ted did just that. "God…sorry…please forgive…" He mouthed the word "me," but had no breath left to finish it.
Between hiccoughing sobs, Liv smoothed the sweat soaked hair from her friend's forehead and uttered words of comfort as Keith gently stroked his arm and held his hand.
"It's ok, Teddy, we forgive you. I forgive you, and I love you. When I think of you, I'll only remember the good times. I promise I'll always think of you and what it was like before you got sick. I love you Teddy, and Keith and I forgive you and God forgives you. I promise, Teddy. I promise." Tears fell from her face and onto his as she told him over and over that he was loved and forgiven.
The giant smiled gratefully at his friends, gave one last, rasping sigh, and fell still. Olivia gently closed his eyes, and Keith covered him with a blanket Kenney had brought from his car. For a long while after that, the only sound was a woman's quiet weeping.
Beechie and Kenney took statements from Steve and Olivia while they waited for the ambulance. Kenney explained that after Liv had spoken to Keith, he'd realized he'd forgotten to congratulate her, and when he tried to call back and got no answer, he knew something was wrong. He couldn't convince the sheriff, though until one of Liv's neighbors had called reporting gunshots. Then it was just a matter of negotiating the slippery roads.
When the ambulance finally arrived, there was some debate about who should ride in it.
"Put Ted on the gurney."
"No, O," Kenney told her, "I called for a hearse. It should be here within the hour. You and Steve should go."
"Ok, then Steve should ride. I'll take the jeep and follow along."
"No way, Liv," Steve insisted. "You've been shot." Steve carefully avoided saying, 'I shot you.' The thought alone sickened him, and given the condition he was in already, that was a recipe for disaster.
She looked at her bloodied bicep and acknowledged her injury for the first time. "Hmmm. So, that's what it feels like." She shrugged, "Bullet went straight through, nothing's broken, and the bleeding's stopped. Hurts like the dickens, but I'll be fine." She screwed up her face in confusion and asked, "How did it happen anyway?"
Steve visibly paled at her question and said simply, "I'll tell you later. Now why don't you lie down and let the paramedics look after you, sweetheart?"
"A concussion and a bullet hole beats just a bullet hole any day, Steve. You take the gurney."
The argument finally ended when Beechie pulled rank.
"Lieutenant Sloan, you are on loan to the Clearfield County Sheriff's Department from the LAPD, and local authority prevails. That makes me the ranking officer here. I suspect you're in shock. That bullet is still in your shoulder, probably making a mess of things. You can barely stand, and three times since I've been here, I've noticed you swallowing like you're trying not to puke. You squint at the light, and that means you have a concussion. You can lie down on that gurney now, or I can help the paramedics make you."
Steve cast Olivia a dark look as she gave a satisfied, "Hmph," but he took his place on the gurney without another word. He knew he was in no shape to struggle with Beechie.
"It's all right, baby," Olivia reassured him as she grabbed her purse and reached for her keys by the kitchen door. "I'll be right behind you in the jeep, and I'll make sure they treat you real good at the hospital."
As gently as possible, Beechie stopped her and indicated her right hand.
"O, if the swelling is any indication, that hand is busted. You've also been shot, and I know you're in shock."
"I'm fine, Beechie."
"Olivia," he said softly, "one of your oldest friends just died in your arms, at the hands of your fiancé, because he was going to rape you and kill both of you. When all that hits home, you're going to fall apart. He rides on the gurney only because of that knot on his head. You ride up front with the driver."
If she hadn't looked so pathetic with her lower lip stuck out in a pout, and if he hadn't known how serious the situation really was, Steve would have indulged in a "Hmph" of his own. As it was, he was simply grateful Beechie was making sure she got the necessary medical attention.
Liv looked thoughtful for a moment before she conceded, "I guess I am just running on adrenaline right now, huh?"
"Yes, O, you are," Beechie was using the patient tone of a parent with a child.
"Ok, I'll go in the ambulance, but I want to stay with Steve until I see his CAT scan and the x-ray of that shoulder. I can't operate with a busted hand, but I can sure as heck advise and supervise if need be."
"No promises, Olivia."
She gave Beechie a disgusted look, but didn't argue as she climbed into the cab of the ambulance and only let the driver buckle her in after she tried to do it herself and yelped in pain at the complaints of her broken hand. Keith rode with Beechie, and they left Kenney to wait for the hearse.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, Steve asked, "What time is it?"
"Ten fifty-seven," the attendant said, glancing at his watch once the gurney was situated. "Why?"
"I just spent less than an hour in hell, and it feels like I've been there all my life," Steve sighed.
"No offense, sir, and not to make light of your injuries, but think of how it's going to feel to Dr. O when she finally realizes what's happened. I hear she's been dodging Ted Baer for over a decade."
Steve didn't know what to say back, so he lapsed into silence, simply grateful that he and Olivia were alive.
By the time they reached the hospital, Olivia was sound asleep in the front of the ambulance. She didn't even twitch when Beechie lifted her out and carried her to an examination room. Steve was carted off for x-rays and a CAT scan, and then he was taken to surgery to remove the bullet from his shoulder. When he came to in the recovery room, he was at first surprised to see a young man with dark crew-cut hair and dark eyes watching him instead of his dad, but then he recalled what had happened.
Steve looked the younger man over and said, "Fancy meeting you here."
Keith gave him a reluctant smile and said, "It should have been me. The least I could do was be here when you woke up, and I figured O probably wouldn't want you to wake up alone and hurting in a strange place."
"I appreciate it. How is Liv, and why isn't she here?"
A shadow crossed Keith's face unnoticed and he said, "She's still sleeping. How are you feeling?"
Steve narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do you really care?"
Keith noticed there was no sarcasm in Steve's voice, just genuine curiosity. A grin split his face and he said quietly, "Yeah, in spite of my best intentions, beach bum, I really do give a damn."
Steve smiled back weakly and said, "Well, in that case, I feel just a little better knowing that you do."
"You're a good guy, and I just can't help myself."
Both men laughed at his remark, then Steve asked, "Why aren't you with Liv?"
"Look, beach bum, for twelve years I've prayed every day that Olivia would come back home to me. Never once in all that time did I dream that she would come home with the likes of you, but you treat her well. You make her happy. God knows everyone can tell you love her. I can live with that. It's all I ever wanted for her. I just thought I would be the one who did all those things for her. I never imagined that she would move on in the world without me. As long as you're good to her, we'll get along."
"Uh, thanks, Keith. But I meant why aren't you sitting with Liv now?"
Keith flushed a bit and said, "I know, but I just had to get that off my chest."
"So?"
"Huh?"
"Why aren't you with Liv?"
The shadow came over Keith's face again, and this time Steve realized something was wrong. "Keith?" he demanded, trying to sit up but being forced to lie still by the nausea that was still plaguing him. "What's the matter with her?"
Keith took a deep breath and said, "I will only tell you if you give me your word that you will stay right here until the doctor gives you the ok to go to her. If you try something stupid like running out of here to go sit by her side before you can safely stand up, I will call the orderly and have him strap you down, got it?"
Steve nodded his understanding.
"I have your word?"
"Yes. Now what the hell's wrong with her?"
"She seems to be in a coma, and we don't know why."
Keith was touched by the anguish he saw as Steve closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. When he looked at Keith again, his eyes were red-rimmed, but he was in control.
"What do we know?"
"The CAT scan shows no brain injury of any kind. Nothing from the action today, nothing from other causes. She didn't lose much blood from the gunshot, and they never put her under general anesthetic."
"What do they think has happened?"
Keith shrugged, "There's no apparent reason for it. The best anyone has suggested is the stress was too much for her and she went into hiding inside her own head."
Steve thought a moment, and said, "She told me she slept for days after her house burned, but I think they drugged her then."
Keith nodded, "I think you're right, but I can't imagine they sedated her that heavily. Maybe this is the same kind of thing. I'll have them check her records."
The two men sat in silence for a few moments. Then Steve said, "Keith?"
"Hmm?"
"I appreciate your sitting with me, but I'd feel better knowing you had them check on Liv. Could you do that and then go sit with her, please?"
"Ok. Anything I can do for you first?"
"Not right now, thanks, but I'd like to call my dad after they move me to a room. Can you make sure the operator will let me make a long distance call?"
Keith nodded, "I'll give her my calling card number. When you call the switchboard, ask for Meg Baer."
Steve tensed at the name. "That's Ted's sister, isn't it?"
Keith nodded. "She's a gem, Steve. Don't hold what Ted did against her."
"Ok. Thanks, Keith, for everything." Steve did not fail to note that it was the first time since they'd met that Keith had called him by name.
Several hours later, Steve was resting comfortably in his own room. The only thing keeping him there was the doctor's promise that if he rested until dinnertime, he'd let Steve go sit with Liv undisturbed for the rest of the evening. Until then, he was comfortable knowing that Keith, Kenney, Beechie, Jud, May, and other friends of hers were taking turns watching over her. At least if she woke up, she wouldn't be alone.
He picked up the phone and dialed the switchboard. As he waited for the operator, he wondered why Meg Baer was still at work. He also wondered why she would help him. He'd just killed her brother, and she should be with her family. He was startled when a voice finally came on the line.
"Clearfield County Hospital. How may I direct your call?
"Meg Baer, please."
"This is Meg. How can I help you?"
Steve introduced himself and gave her several numbers to try to reach his dad.
"Ok…Steve. I'll find him for you, and I'll ring your room when I've got him on the line. Until then, you just rest, all right?"
"Um, yeah, and thanks." The girl didn't hang up right away, so Steve asked what he'd been wondering earlier. "Meg?"
"Yes?"
"You know what I did, don't you?"
A pause. "Yes." She didn't sound angry or upset.
"I'm sorry, Meg."
A much longer pause, and then she spoke with a tremor in her voice.
"You didn't kill Teddy, Steve. Schizophrenia did that twelve years ago when it took his mind. You just stopped the monster that had been using him."
Another pause.
"I…I'm glad you were there to help Olivia. I've heard they'll let you see her after dinner."
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm off at six. I'll stop by before I go. I'll probably meet you then."
Steve found himself smiling. "Ok."
"Now, let me find your dad for you. I'm sure you'll feel much better after you talk to him."
"You're probably right. Thanks again."
A few minutes later, the phone rang, and when Steve answered it, his dad wasted no time getting to the point.
"Steve, what happened? Why are you in the hospital? Are you and Olivia ok?"
"It's a long story, Dad. I'll be just fine."
Mark knew from what wasn't said, that there was more.
"How's Olivia?"
"We're…" Steve's voice cracked, and he tried again. "We're not sure. She's comatose and no one knows why."
"Hold on a second, son."
Steve heard his dad mutter a few words, and when he came back on, he told Steve exactly what he needed to hear.
"Jesse's booking me on the next available flight to Pittsburgh, son. Now, from the beginning, tell me what happened."
Steve sighed with relief, and in fits and starts, fighting tears the entire time, he told his dad the whole, awful story.
"I had to do it, Dad. I didn't want to, but she'd shot him five times, and couldn't take him down."
"You had no choice, son."
"Liv was amazing. She fought like hell and never gave him an inch. I could hear them struggling all through the house. She actually created an opening for me to fire, and that's when I got him."
"She's a smart girl, Steve. She knew what had to be done."
"It makes me sick that I hurt her by accident."
"She'll understand, son. It was unavoidable."
Steve was silent a long time, and then he said, "Something else happened, Dad. I don't know what to make of it."
"What's that?"
"Well, when it was all over, she tried to save him."
"She's a doctor, Steve," Mark said, mildly amused in spite of all he'd heard, "That's what doctors do."
"I know, Dad," Steve said with an exasperated sigh. "But there's more. When she realized she couldn't save him, she told him she loved him and she forgave him. And she *meant* it, Dad, because she *promised* him. She and Keith both *forgave* him. After all he had done to them both, they gave him his dying wish and forgave him."
"It sounds like that troubles you, son."
It was a long time before Steve responded, and when he did, his voice was filled with dismay.
"I don't know if I could have done that, Dad. I know Olivia's really good inside…righteous is the word for it, I guess. Like the Golden Rule and turn the other cheek. I've known that for a long time, but Keith surprised me. He was right there, too, and when Ted got cold, he covered him with his coat. He held the guy's hand and told him it was all ok." Steve wanted to say more, but he choked on his words.
Mark filled the silence. "He's Olivia's friend, Steve. They're probably a lot alike, and he has history with Ted, just like Olivia."
"When I woke up after surgery, he was here so I wouldn't be alone, and he set it up so I could call you."
"What are you trying to say, son?"
After an extended silence, with a sigh of resignation, Steve admitted the thought that had been on his mind since he watched Ted die. "I could never have forgiven Ted, and I don't think I would have been as nice to Keith as he was to me if the situation had been reversed. He's a really good guy, Dad. I'm not that good, that kind, and decent. I guess…well…Keith's a better man than I am, Dad, and I feel a little ashamed."
"And you're afraid that he might be better for Olivia, too, aren't you?"
That was the crux of the problem, wasn't it?
"I guess so, kind of."
"Steve, you listen to me," his dad said gravely. "You are my son, and I love you, but right now, I'm talking man to man. You are as good as they come, Steve. He is no better. He was able to forgive Ted because he had a history with the man. He knows about his redeeming qualities, you don't. If it had been Jesse, or Jack Stewart, you'd have forgiven him."
"I don't know, Dad."
"Well, I do. And as for him sitting with you, he probably knew that's what Olivia would want."
Steve smiled into the phone then, and even though he was three thousand miles away, Mark could still hear him brighten. "He did mention that. Thanks, Dad."
"You're welcome, son. Now, I have to go pack. I'll see you in a few hours."
"Ok, see you soon, and don't forget a heavy coat and some long underwear."
Mark chuckled, "I won't son."
Steve woke to the sound of subdued voices nearby. He opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a chair beside Liv's bed, still holding her hand. He had no idea how long ago he'd fallen asleep like that. He looked around to find the source of the voices, and saw Jud tap his dad on the arm and point in his direction.
Mark came over to greet him, saying, "Hello, son. How are you feeling?"
Steve rose, slowly, and was pleased to notice he didn't feel nauseous this time.
"I've got a headache and I'm sore, Dad, but I'm doing all right. It's good to see you."
Needing some kind of physical comfort, Steve reached out to his dad for a hug, and Mark responded carefully so as not to jostle his injured shoulder. Stepping back from the embrace, Mark studied his son's face carefully and asked, "Are you sure you're ok?"
Steve nodded, and was punished with a minor bout of dizziness. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine." He reassured Mark when he recovered. "Why so worried?"
"Well, this is the first serious action you've seen since the shooting, and…"
"Oh, yeah. I hadn't even thought of that, Dad. I think I'm fine, but if there's trouble, I'll let you know."
Mark squeezed his good shoulder and nodded as Steve turned to include Jud in their conversation. "I see you two have met."
"Yep," Jud responded, "I picked him up at the airport."
Confused, Steve asked, "I didn't even tell anybody he was flying in, how did you know?"
Mark chuckled and said, "That switchboard operator is one heck of a watchdog, son. When Jesse called to give you my flight information, she said, 'Detective Sloan is resting now, and I'd rather not disturb him. If you'll leave your name and number, I'll have him call you back at dinnertime.' When Jesse explained the situation, she said, 'Well, I'm sure you don't expect Detective Sloan to meet the plane in his condition, so why bother him with the details,' and she connected him with Jud instead."
Jud laughed, "That's Meg. She takes it personally when someone disturbs the patients with trivial stuff."
Changing the subject, Steve looked from his dad to Olivia and asked, "Technically, you're her personal physician, right, Dad?"
"I guess so, why?"
"Would you examine her? I'll feel better knowing you've checked her over."
Jud excused himself to get a cup of coffee while Mark did as his son asked, then pulled up a chair, and sat down to talk.
"Her condition's stable, son. Heart rate and respiration are good. Blood pressure's fine. Except for her obvious injuries nothing's wrong."
"Then why's she in a coma, Dad?"
"I don't know."
"Can you tell me how long it will last?"
Mark shook his head, and when he saw his son fighting tears, he put his arms around him again.
Late the next morning, Steve woke up in his own room with his dad by his side. He couldn't remember leaving Liv's room and his dad explained that he'd been half asleep and had just taken some pain medication for his shoulder when they talked him into getting some real rest. Liv's friends had taken shifts through the night, and she'd never been alone.
After breakfast, a shave, and a change into the pajamas and robe his dad had brought from home, Steve went to spend the day at Liv's bedside.
"She looks so frail, Dad."
"That's just because she's so small, son. She's really doing quite well, and I suspect she's a lot tougher than anyone's ever given her credit for."
"Then why isn't she waking up?"
Mark shook his head and shrugged.
A voice from the hall said, "I think it's just her way of dealing with stress. She's done this a time or two before. Scares the snot out of the rest of us, but she wakes feeling fine."
A pretty, young woman with shiny brown hair and a round face walked into the room and extended her hand, first to Steve, then to Mark. "You must be Steve, which means you're Dr. Sloan. I'm Meg Baer. I did drop by last night, Steve, but you were already asleep in the chair, and since you didn't hear me come in, I decided it was best not to disturb you."
Mark looked askance, and grinning, Steve said, "The watchdog."
Now it was Meg's turn to be confused until Mark explained.
"Thank you for looking out for my son, Meg," Mark said with a smile.
"After what my brother put him through, letting him sleep was the least I could do."
"Your brother?" Mark asked, and then said in shock, "Ted?"
Meg nodded.
"I'm very sorry for your loss."
Meg wiped away a stray tear and said, "Thank you. It hurts some, but I've been missing my brother for years because of his illness, Dr. Sloan. His death just sort of finalized something that started a long time ago."
Turning to Steve, she said, "I have been sent as a messenger from the gang. They figure if you hear this from me, you'll believe it. We have all been talking, and we've decided if you and Liv are willing, the wedding is still on for Valentine's Day."
Mark's eyebrows shot up at this new information, and Steve explained briefly.
"I proposed and she accepted a couple nights ago, Dad. When we woke up the next morning, it was too early to call California. It would have been something like three o'clock. So, we decided that after she made all her calls, I would start making mine. Ted clobbered me before I had the chance to call you, and after it was all over, well, other things seemed more important."
Mark nodded. "I understand, son."
"Anyway," Meg continued, "we figure red and white will be the right colors, and when she called Lou she mentioned that she wanted the cloud nine girls to be bridesmaids along with someone named Amanda. We figured if you would contact her, we could get her measurements and have a dress made for her to try on by the time she arrived. Her little boy…"
"CJ?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, Liv wants him to be the ring bearer."
A weak voice came from the bed saying, "Dark red and ivory, satin backed crepe and velvet trim, empire waists and long skirts, sweetheart necklines. No butt bows or pouffy sleeves. I want Dion to tend the guest book." Opening her eyes, Olivia said, "Hi, Meg. It's good to see you. I'm sorry about Ted. When's the service?"
Meg and Liv talked for several minutes with Steve and Mark watching and grinning. Olivia promised to be at the funeral, and she questioned Meg closely to make sure she and her brother Tom and their parents were ok with the wedding following so hard on the heels of Ted's death. Then they made Liv an appointment to get measured for her wedding gown and discussed wedding plans and bridesmaids' dresses until Mark and Steve got bored and interrupted.
After Meg left, Steve and Mark tried to get Liv to rest.
"Come on, guys," she whined. "If what you lead me to believe is true, I've been asleep for a day and a half, I'm getting married in a week, and I haven't even been measured for my dress yet. Now is not the time for rest."
"Olivia," Mark said sternly, "You know as well as I do that a coma is *not* the same as rest."
She turned her most pitiful look on her future father-in-law and said, "Give me the telephone, my purse, and two hours, and I promise I'll do nothing but lie here helplessly for the rest of the day…Dad." She gave a sweet smile, and Mark's heart melted.
"I know what you're doing, Olivia," he said.
Smiling wider as Steve watched, she said, "And you're powerless to resist, aren't you?"
"Two hours," Mark said. "Not a minute more."
"Ok, Dad," she grinned.
"Thanks, Dad," Steve added with a smile.
Shaking a warning finger at his son, Mark said laughingly, "You, I can still resist, and when she goes to sleep, you go back to your room for some rest, too, mister."
"Ok." Turning to Olivia, Steve handed over her purse and asked, "Why don't Dad and I go call Jesse, Amanda, and the rest of my guests while you make your calls, then we can talk until your two hours is up?"
Liv nodded. "Sounds good," she said, taking out a credit card and handing it to him. Then she took a small notepad out of her purse and wrote down some names and phone numbers. "If you aunt can't arrange the flights on such short notice, that card should be enough to rent a private jet. Have her make flight arrangements for the people on that list, too, first class all the way for everyone. Ask her to try to have them all arrive on the same day, and see if she can arrange some kind of meet-and-greet reception at one of the airport hotels. Come back in about forty-five minutes, ok?"
Steve took the card and the list and said, "All right. See you soon."
Forty-five minutes later found Steve back in Liv's room as she hung up the phone. Mark had agreed to help Casey and Irene choose the menu for the reception, and at Jud and Steve's suggestion, he decided to have them cater the rehearsal dinner, too. After selecting the menus, Jud was going to take Mark around to the Grange, the VFW, and a couple other organizations to find a place to hold the rehearsal dinner.
"Man, your aunt works fast, babe." Liv said as she turned to smile at him. "I had just told my friend Jeffrey the news when call waiting beeped. He came back on the line telling me, 'Olivia, some pushy broad named Dora Sloan wants to book the munchkin and me on a flight Pittsburgh for a wedding. Tell me this is a bad joke.'"
Steve laughed. "'Pushy broad,' huh? That's Aunt Dora all right. What did you tell him?"
"That I hadn't yet met my fiancé's aunt but that was her name, she was a travel agent, and he should accept the plane tickets."
Smiling, Steve said, "You didn't need to do that. She wouldn't have let him say no."
Silence settled between them. It quickly grew heavy and uncomfortable. They both tried to break it at once.
"Liv, I…"
"Look, Steve…"
They chuckled uneasily and lapsed into silence again. After a bit, Olivia slid over on the bed and patted the mattress to indicate that Steve should sit beside her. He obeyed, and she gently pulled him down to rest his head on her chest. As her good hand made slow, gentle circles on his back, she said simply, "Talk to me."
Steve gave a deep, shuddering sigh, and said, "I let you down, Liv. I failed to protect you, I shot you, and I killed your friend." His ragged breathing told her he was crying. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? I can call everyone and cancel right now if you want. I'm so sorry, Liv."
"You shot me?"
"Uh-huh. As Ted staggered back from my first shot, you rose up in his arms, and I pulled the trigger. The slug went through you…and hit him in the chest. I heard you…cry out when you were hit. He fell back with you in his arms, but I couldn't see where you'd been wounded because the table was in the way. Everything was so quiet. For a moment, I thought…I thought I'd killed you, too. I thought my world was going to fall apart. Then you started screaming. Oh, God, I'm sorry, Liv."
"Shhh." She hushed him softly. "You saved my life, Steve. You did what you had to. Don't ever be sorry for that. I'm not."
She continued to rub his back and soothe him until he fell asleep in her arms.
Hours later, when Mark and Jud returned to confirm that the menus had been selected and plans were in place for the rehearsal dinner and the reception, they found the love birds soundly sleeping in each other's arms.
"He was supposed to go back to his room," Mark said with a rueful grin.
"As long as they're both resting, does it matter?" Jud asked.
"I guess not."