Chapter 39

LifeFlight

"How is he?" Margery pounced on the exhausted surgeon as soon as he found them on the far end of the cardiac floor due to the baby. Margery's hands were clenched tight in front of her.

"Your husband is doing fine," the doctor reassured her. "He came through the surgery very well and he's resting comfortably. As soon as they have him settled in, you can see him, one at a time."

Gayle and Winona watched the tension in their mother's shoulders ease. "Thank you," she said to the doctor.

He nodded. "I'll be back later to check on him."

"You notice she didn't correct him when he called Daddy her 'husband'," Gayle hissed in Winona's ear.

Winona nodded, wondering why Gayle just couldn't be happy if their parents had indeed, found peace with each other. Maybe they could squeeze some happiness out of the time their father had left. Happiness he wouldn't remember, most likely, but still.

"You okay?" Gayle asked, squeezing her sister's hand. "You're worried about Raylan, aren't you?"

"I'm sure he's fine." Winona dismissed her concern. Yes, of course she was worried about him, but if she started talking about it, it would just make it worse. She took a deep breath and rubbed Willa's back. The little one had fallen asleep, her head lolling on her mother's shoulder. Winona turned her head and took in the sweet scent of her baby. Please let her daddy be okay. She prayed silently.

"Davis Reeves?" The nurse was black and tall, with the build of a linebacker. His blue scrubs strained to contain his bulging biceps, but despite an intimidating presence, he had kind brown eyes and a soft voice. "Someone can go in and see him now."

"You go, Mom," Gayle said.

Margery spun around to face them. "Are you sure? You girls . . ."

"Go," Winona added.

"Well, alright. I won't stay long and then you can take turns." She followed the nurse down the hall with a spring in her step.

Rachel excused herself to visit the restroom so that she could take over with Willa when it was Winona's turn to go in.

"I can't get over it," Gayle murmured, continuing the conversation with her sister.

"That's obvious." Winona smirked.

"Well, you weren't here when their marriage took a dive. You were off on your adventure in the Wild West with that damn cowboy of yours. And you were never coming back to Kentucky." A scowl darkened Gayle's features. "They said things to each other and about each other that were awful . . . just . . . awful."

Winona took a breath. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. I'm sorry I wasn't here."

As quick as it came, the scowl vanished, and Gayle looked at her and laughed. "No, you're not."

"You're right," Winona replied, relieved at the lightness in her sister's tone. "But I'm happy for them now, aren't you?"

"I am. I just hope Mama isn't setting herself up for heartache." Gayle sighed. "We all know how this ends."

"Medical research is coming up with new things every day," Winona said. "Look at how well Daddy is doing on the new medicine. He's much less confused."

Gayle nodded slowly. "He is. And, I think it's been good for him to be at the house with all of us, rather than all by himself at his apartment at the assisted living place." She flushed. "That was my idea. I thought it would be good for him. Maybe I was just thinking of myself," she chided.

"I'm sure it was hard." Winona tried to comfort her. "I saw how bad Daddy was just a few weeks ago when we first got here. You couldn't have known that the new meds were going to make such a difference."

Rachel turned the corner, phone to her ear. "Yes, I'll tell them."

"What? Is it Raylan?" Willa startled at her mother's voice and began to whimper. Winona stroked her back and shushed the baby, all the while staring wide-eyed at Rachel.

"They're on their way here. Raylan, Limehouse, and Leon Arndt, the man who took Anna."

"Thank God," Winona uttered.

Gayle put an arm around her sister and squeezed. "I told you he would be fine."

Margery came strolling down the corridor looking years younger than when she left. The weight of worry had left her face. "Which one of you wants to go in next?" she asked.

Winona touched her sister's arm. "You go ahead." She was preoccupied with waiting for word on Raylan.

"Don't be alarmed by all the wires and monitors," their mother warned. "There's a nurse in there with him. She can answer any questions you have."

"Is he awake?" Gayle asked, pensive about going in alone.

"He's in and out. They've got him on pain meds," Margery reported. "But he's clear- headed. He knew who I was, who the President of the United States is, and that he came through the surgery just fine. His coloring looks really good. His oxygen saturation is better than it's been in a long, long time. These are all good signs."

As Gayle left to make her way to the Cardiac Care Unit, Margery continued to babble on. "Oh, my goodness. With all the cups of coffee I've had today, I need to go to the little girl's room, again."

"It's down this way. Make a left turn at the end of the hall. It will be on your right," Rachel directed the older woman.

"Thank you," Margery said, saying she'd be right back.

Winona looked over and studied Rachel's face, void of all emotion. "He is alright? Isn't he?"

Rachel let out a sigh. "That was that flunky local agent, Agent Storlie, who called." After a beat, she added, "I'm not going to lie to you. He said they're all coming here. On LifeFlight." As she was talking, she pulled out her cell and called Tim. It went straight to voicemail. "Call me," she spoke into the receiver. She then tried Art and heard a fast busy signal. Again she was sent to his voicemail. "Chief, please call me when you can."

Winona's eyes became huge, and she tightened her grip around Willa.

"Look. They're probably en route . . . with a high-ticket fugitive, no less, who's eluded the Federal government for a long, long time. I don't know what's going on, but not being able to reach Art or Tim could mean any number of things." As if she could read Winona's mind, she quickly added, "So could Raylan not being able to call you. He may not be allowed to use his phone during transport."

Winona tried to take in what she was hearing.

"Listen," Rachel shifted gears. "I'm going to go up to the roof to meet the chopper . . . and see what I can find out. While I haven't been told, I'm assuming you're no longer in danger with Arndt in custody. Will you be okay here? Would your mother watch Willa so you can visit your father?"

Shifting her weight, Winona asked point blank, "Can't I go with you?"

Rachel tightened her lips and shook her head. "You're not authorized to go up on the roof." She could see the toll all the waiting and waiting had taken on Winona. "I swear to you . . . I'll call you as soon as they land."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Out of the LifeFlight chopper came Leon Arndt, FBI Agent Mike Cannon, and Ellstin Limehouse on gurneys. Each appeared to be in serious or even critical condition with oxygen masks covering their faces and IVs in their arms. They were also covered with trauma blankets in an effort to prevent shock. Homeland Security Agent Todd Weston accompanied Arndt's gurney, first into the triage area. Had Arndt not been unconscious, he would have been taken to the Federal Medical Center in Lexington, but University Hospital in Louisville was the closest Level 1 Trauma Center. And there were two others in serious condition on that same LifeFlight.

Raylan was wheeled in right behind them. The difference was that Raylan was sitting propped up on his gurney. The side of his face and his chest were covered with blood spatters, but he was fully conscious and full of piss and vinegar. "What the hell do you mean I can't call Winona? He glanced over at Art, his eyes wide in desperation. "She's gonna kill me. Art. Ya' know how she gets."

"I'm sorry, but we cannot allow cell phones to be turned on here," the nurse argued with the lawman, her hands defiantly squared on her hips. "The signal interferes with our monitoring equipment. We deal with life and death situations in here. Your phone call can wait!"

"You don't know Winona," he deadpanned the nurse.

"I'll go outside and call her," Art promised in an effort to calm his man down. "Just as soon as I make sure that Tim is squared away."

Tim walked into the ER on his own two feet, the last to exit the chopper. His arms were covered with fragmentation injuries from the explosion. Pieces of concrete and wood fragments from the bunker were lodged in his hands and forearms where he used them in an attempt to shield his face from the blast. He'd managed to protect his eyes, but his cheeks and jaw were pitted with bits and pieces of debris as well.

"I already called her," Rachel said as she jogged into the triage area behind Tim, overhearing the conversation. "She's on her way here . . . now." After a beat, she added, "Raylan?" Rachel winced upon seeing her fellow marshal's face. "You'd better ask them to clean you up before you let Winona see you. You'll scare her half to death."

Not being able to see himself, he looked down and saw the blood spatters across the front of his shirt.

"It's a good thing you weren't wearing the hat," Rachel stated the obvious, attempting to make light of his situation.

Further down in the treatment area, where Anna and Adam had been brought back to her same curtained cubicle to wait for the imaging results, they could hear all the commotion.

"That sounds like Raylan," Anna said to Adam. "Would you please open the curtain so I can see what's going on?"

Adam walked over and did as she asked, pulling back the curtain. He and Anna both observed gurneys being directed to different treatment areas with the precision of air traffic controllers. It was during this ruckus that Adam locked eyes with Rachel and waved her over.

"Hey," Rachel said as she came closer to Anna's cubical, the chaotic scene continuing to play out behind her. "How are you doing?"

"We're waiting for the results of the CT scan," Adam explained. "What's going on out there?"

"It's all over," she reported, and she turned her attention directly to Anna. "Three of Arndt's men were killed at the compound. Everyone else got out alive. All of ours are alive."

"And Arndt?" Anna asked, his racial hatred forever burned into her memory.

"He's here. Weston has him in custody," she reported. "Arndt's unconscious. I don't have any additional information on his condition."

Anna was smart enough to figure out that Arndt must be in serious condition to be brought to this hospital.

"And Raylan?" Adam pre-emptively asked. "I saw him being wheeled in."

Rachel leaned against the wall, crossed her arms, and smiled. "He must not have been hurt too bad. He's alert, cussing, and here . . . causing a scene . . . as usual."

At that moment, they all heard the 'click, click, click' and quick stride of women's high-heeled shoes and watched as Winona flew right by them, headed in Art's direction.

Anna watched as Rachel, with her arms still crossed in front of her, eyed Winona as she headed down the hall making a beeline towards Raylan's cubicle.

"Uh-oh." Rachel muttered. She had seen this scene play out before.

In the relatively short time Adam had known Winona, he knew exactly what Rachel meant and echoed her sentiments.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Where is he? Can I see him?" Winona's voice carried from outside of the triage area and into the cubicle, where Raylan splashed water on his face. The nurse handed him a washcloth, and the marshal quickly wiped down his arms himself.

"Thanks," he said. "Is all the blood gone?" He patted himself dry with a towel, looking down at it to see if he could answer his own question.

"You got some scratches on your face still bleedin' a bit," she said, her Kentucky accent thick. "But nothin' we can do about that. They aren't too deep, so least you ain't gonna need any stitches in that pretty face of yours." She picked up Raylan's ruined shirt and tossed it in a biohazard bag hanging on the wall. "Now, hop back up on that gurney, and I'll send her right in."

Raylan grabbed the back of his open hospital gown, hobbled over to the gurney, and sat up on its side, staring at the gap in the curtain until it parted and Winona stepped inside. Their eyes met. "I . . .," Raylan began, but she came forward, pressing a finger against his lips.

"Shhh," she whispered, leaning into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed that way for a long time.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"How's Davis holdin' up?" Raylan asked, as Winona walked over to the closet to grab what was left of his clothing.

"He came out of surgery about an hour ago," she said, gingerly picking up his jeans and his jacket that were hanging from hooks. They looked as if they'd been through God only knew what.

"Surgery? He's already had his surgery?" Raylan suddenly realized he had no sense of time over the past few days.

"Yes. Today," she answered. "I was able to see him after he came out of surgery. In the ICU for a few minutes before I came down here." She looked up at him. "He looked good. Considering what he's been through. Mama and Gayle are upstairs, near the cardiac floor with Willa." After a beat, Winona's pensive look eased into a smile. "She missed you."

"I missed her, too." He raised his eyes. "I missed both of you."

Winona returned with the jeans, shaking her head and making a face. "You know, I could go over to the gift shop and buy you some sweats. I think these are beyond salvaging."

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Most definitely," she answered, dropping them into a nearby wastebasket while standing as far away from them as she could.

"I can't wait until they finish up their paperwork and let me the hell outta here," he swore, raking his fingers through his hair. His hair was sticky. What he really needed was a nice, long shower.

"Sorry to interrupt." Art's head appeared through the break in the curtain. "Are you decent?" He backed off, seeing that his charge appeared to be getting dressed.

"Nothin' you haven't seen before," Raylan chided, referring to the way Art always walked in on him in the locker room at the courthouse.

"Ellstin is conscious, and he wants to talk to you."

"Me?" Raylan was puzzled. "I figure I'd be the last person he'd want to talk to."

"So would I," Art agreed. "But he's pretty insistent. Won't let them take him into surgery until he sees you." He pushed a wheel chair through the curtain. "I promised him I'd deliver you myself."

As much as she tried to keep it in, Winona let out a frustrated sigh. She had only just gotten him back.

"I won't be gone long," Raylan assured her. Reluctantly, he eased himself into the chair. He'd rather walk, but he wanted to save what little energy he had left for the trip back to Gayle's and hopefully, some time with Winona before he passed out.

"I guess I'll walk over to the gift shop and buy you something clean to wear," she said, trying to pass the time away from him and at the same time, make herself useful.

Raylan reached out and grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be right back. I don't like leavin' you again, any more than you do."

She squeezed his hand in return.

Art pulled out a credit card from his wallet and handed it over to her. "I believe that purchase should be on the Marshals Service. Don't you?"

"Thanks," she said, taking it, as she forced a smile.

"Hell, yes, it should. I wish Tim could be here to see you pull out your wallet," Raylan said, making fun of his frugal Chief. "How is Tim?"

"Madder than a hornet's nest," "Art reported. "He's going to be fine, but he took a lot of debris in the face, arms, and hands. And of course, with Tim, we've got to be concerned about triggering PTSD."

Winona could tell Art was being purposefully vague on her account in not giving very many details about what happened. She'd have to try and get some information, later, out of Raylan.

"Any word on Anna?" she asked. Surely, he could give her an update on Anna.

"Anna's here?" Raylan asked, his head still a little scrambled when it came to timing.

"Yeah," Art answered, bending over and releasing the brakes on the chair. "She's about five curtains down from you. "She and her fiancée are sitting tight. Waiting on some test results. She looks good."

"I think I'll go check in on her, on my way to the gift shop," Winona said, seeing that Art was about ready to head on out.

"Wouldya' tell my sister I said 'hello.' And I can't wait until the five of us can sit down over a nice dinner," he asked Winona. "Her first couple a' Limbec's are on me."

"I'll tell her," Winona gave him a tight smile, as she left to find Anna and Adam.

Art wheeled Raylan in the opposite direction.

"So, how'd that go?" Art asked, once they were out of earshot. "She okay?"

Raylan shrugged. "I think so. Hard to tell. Hell, Art, you know I'm no good at readin' her."

(To be continued . . .)