One Thanksgiving in Lusty, Texas by Cara Covington (rosie project TXT) 📕

the ICU and the staff can be alerted and ready to receive the patient.”

That was how things were done at Johns Hopkins, too. “Oh. Oh, good. I…well, we haven’t been married very long, and I know this was an unexpected situation for him. I just wanted to be here for my husband.” She’d almost made that plural but was able to stop herself at the last moment. Pamela would have to be careful. This wasn’t Lusty.

“We haven’t seen Dr. Jessop around here much in the last several months. I’ll have to offer him my congratulations when I…oh. Um, which Dr. Jessop…” Becky’s face colored, and Pamela couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“I’m married to Adam.” That was nothing but the truth. “I understand, in this instance, that James is also in the operating room with him.”

“He is.” Becky smiled. “I’ll congratulate him—and you, as well.”

Becky’s phone rang.

“I’ll get out of your way, then. Thank you, Becky, for your help. And the congratulations.”

Pamela walked across the hall to the waiting room—identifiable by the sign above the door. The room was not very large, with a sofa at the end of the room, a smaller one against the long wall, and a few of what she considered standard waiting room chairs offering additional seating.

A middle-aged couple sat on the small sofa, shoulders close, hands clasped. Pamela could tell the woman had been crying, because she was looking right at her.

The man cleared his throat. “We didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You’re Dr. Jessop’s wife?”

“I am.” Because she’d had that brief conversation with James, she guessed who these people might be.

“I’m Harry Pender, and this is my wife, Linda. Your husband and his brother…” The sight of the man, clearly emotional, touched Pamela’s heart.

Mrs. Pender took up where her husband left off. “God sent them. That tractor was just at that tipping point, and your man came barreling down Dad’s driveway like a race car driver. We don’t know how things will be in the end, but those two men gave our Tommy a fighting chance.”

“I’m not surprised that, seeing what was about to happen, they would rush to help. They have good hearts. I’m so sorry your son was injured. Do you know anything at all?”

“Just that they’re nearly done. It’s been a few hours, so the fact that—well, that he’s still alive? We’ve been praying since we got here.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Mrs. Pender said. “We’ll see to ourselves once we see our Tommy.”

“Darn kid never listens,” Mr. Pender said. “Dad told him you can’t pull a tree stump out with a tractor and a chain.” He shook his head. “My older brother stayed on the farm, but I’m an accountant, and we live in Dallas. Linda and Tommy were visiting for a few days. Joey—that’s my brother—was off getting supplies. Near as we can tell, Tommy overheard Dad complaining about that stump and thought he knew how to get the job done.”

“I was raised on a dairy farm in Maryland. I think tree stumps are a universal problem.”

“When I saw that tractor go over…” Mrs. Pender stopped. “Worst moment of my life.”

“Adam is a gifted surgeon. He wouldn’t say that, but I’ve heard his colleagues talk. The board of directors at Johns Hopkins, in Baltimore, wanted both Adam and James to sign on after their specialized residencies were done, but they wanted to come home and take over their father’s practice instead.”

“Thank God they did,” Mrs. Pender said.

Pamela sat companionably with the couple, moments of silence interspersed with small talk.

She heard steps in the hall and looked up as Adam entered the waiting area. He seemed surprised—and pleased—to see her.

She nodded but remained sitting so he could go and speak to the Penders, who’d surged to their feet at his appearance. He looked at Pamela again briefly then turned to face them.

“How’s Tommy, Dr. Jessop? It’s okay for you to speak in front of your missus. We don’t mind,” Mr. Pender said.

“Thank you. Tommy came through the surgery well and is in recovery. He had a ruptured spleen, which we’ve removed, and a very deep gash on his right leg. Our main concern with his leg was possible nerve and muscle damage. They’ll watch him carefully over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours to be certain that blood is flowing well through the leg…”

Pamela listened to the tone in Adam’s voice, admiring the way he was able to communicate clearly and convey confidence. While he was speaking, Pamela felt James at the doorway. His gaze was on her, and when she met it, the emotions—love and gratitude—were right there in his eyes.

“Thank you, Dr. Jessop.” Linda Pender looked over at James. “Thank you both, more than we can ever say.”

Becky came into the waiting room and offered to take the Penders to the recovery room so they could see their son. The moment they left, Adam sighed.

“Come here, baby.”

Pamela walked into his arms and wrapped hers around him. Moments later, James stepped up and braced her back. She felt surrounded and cocooned, and it was the best feeling in the world.

“You’re making me feel good, when I came here to do that for the two of you.”

“You have.” Adam stepped back and tilted her face up, allowing her to meet his gaze. “You never did that, back in Baltimore. You were always there for us afterward, when we would come to you. How did you know we needed you now?”

“Because this wasn’t business as usual. This was personal for the both of you.”

“Don’t ever doubt that you get us, sweetheart,” James said. “And we sure as hell won’t, either—not ever again.”

“Mom dropped me off so I could drive you home. And I brought a thermos of coffee. Are you ready to leave?”

“We are,” Adam said. “We finished the paperwork before we left the OR. Jon Anderson was our anesthesiologist, and Craig Crenshaw came into the surgery near the end, as an observer. Since he’s on staff here, he’ll monitor