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General Fiction,
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September 11 Terrorist Attacks; 2001,
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Alzheimer's disease - Patients
burns or the broken leg that worried John.
It was his damaged lungs.
At the end of the first hour, Landon’s oxygen had reached the low nineties-not where John wanted it, but better than before. At least Landon was alive.
The moment John could break away, he called home and told his wife what had happened.
“Oh, John … no.” The concern in Elizabeth’s voice was the same as if the news had been about one of their own children. “He’s going to make it, isn’t he?”
“It’s too soon to tell.” John was anxious to get back to Landon. “Tell Ashley, will you? She needs to know.”
By then Landon’s parents, his extended family, and half a dozen firemen had arrived at the hospital. One by one they’d been in to visit him, pray for him, encourage him to hold on.
22
John hoped Ashley would get the news quickly. He had a feeling her presence might mean more to the young man than all the other visits combined.
Two hours passed, then three, with no sign of Ashley. John checked on Landon as often as he could, and by four o’clock his oxygen meter read ninety-three. Still not good, but an improvement. As John’s shift ended, a reporter from the local paper called.
“We understand the injured firefighter gave his air mask to a child, is that right?”
“Yes. The child is fine, scheduled to go home in the morning.” John steadied his voice. “The firefighter is in critical condition. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
“So the firefighter’s a hero.”
“Yes.” John swallowed a lump in his throat. “No question about it. His selfless efforts saved the boy’s life.”
The moment the interview was finished, John headed toward his car. He had to find Ashley. Landon’s oxygen level was too low for his brain to survive, too low to sustain consciousness, especially given the fact that he was on a respirator.
With mechanical help, Landon’s numbers should have been in the high nineties. If they didn’t improve soon, Landon might not live through the night. And if he did …
John shuddered at the thought of Landon confined to a bed, living the rest of his days brain damaged, in a vegetative state.
Wherever Ashley was, she needed to get to the hospital. Needed to let Landon hear her voice, tell him she was pulling for him, caring for him.
Or at least tell him goodbye.
Before time ran out for both of them.
Kari Baxter Jacobs-John and Elizabeth’s second daughter-sat in the corner of the Baxter living room, cradling her daughter, Jessie. She and the baby had been visiting a friend, and she
23 s a I I e y
hadn’t received word about Landon Blake until an hour ago. By the time she arrived at her parents’ home in Clear Creek, just south of Bloomington, the house had been full of people praying for his survival. Kari’s youngest sister, Erin Hogan; their brother, Luke; and his girlfriend, Reagan Decker, sat around the room, quiet and somber.
All of them guessing at places where they might find Ashley.
Kari glanced up from her baby and met her mother’s eyes. “She left Cole with you this morning. Didn’t she say when she’d be back?”
A sigh slipped from Elizabeth’s lips. “The interview was supposed to be over before noon. I thought she’d come straight home.”
“Typical Ashley move.” Luke shifted to the floor and rested his back against Reagan’s knees. Kari had watched the two of them grow close these past months, and she’d talked to Luke about his intentions. There was no question about it-Luke was in love. And Kari was convinced Reagan felt the same way.
Luke was still carrying on about Ashley’s absence. “Poor Cole upstairs playing by himself and you stuck baby-sitting all day. Again.” He sputtered. “I mean, come on, Mom. She could’ve at least called.”
“I’m sure she has a reason.”
“Sure, Ashley always has a reason. Especially when it’s-“
Kari tuned them out. It didn’t matter where Ashley was or why she wasn’t home by now. What mattered was