Page 8 of Love and Memories

“Me too.”

Kennedy checked her watch. “I gotta run. Heading out to a concert in Montana with the girls.”

“Have fun, and be careful.” The reminder of the injured woman waited on the other side of the door.

Kennedy grinned up at him. “You’re so sweet. I’ll be extra careful just because you told me to.” She gave him an excited wave and turned to march back down the hallway like she owned the place.

Travis pushed the door open and peeked inside. The lights were dimmed, and silence hung in the air. The woman lay peacefully on the bed, and a blanket stretched over her.

He should leave. He should turn around and walk away. He could be early for work. He could stop by Beau’s shop and get his oil changed. He could stop for a donut on his way out of town.

He could be doing anything else, but for some reason, his feet were moving into the room. He left the door ajar and stopped beside the bed and took in the woman before him.

Someone had washed the blood out of her hair. It was a sandy blonde that flowed over her shoulder like a river of sunlight. Her eye was still swollen, her head was bandaged, and another bandage wrapped around her upper arm.

Travis saw injuries every day, but every once in a while, the trauma got to him. It squeezed his heart like a vise, cutting off his ability to breathe.

He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and rest his head in his hands. A heavy weight sat on his shoulders.

Silence settled around him–emptiness begging to be filled.

“Lord, I don’t know what this woman needs, but You do. I pray You’ll heal her body and give her mind rest. Help me to know what You need me to do because I don’t know why I’m here.”

Travis swallowed hard. Had he been drawn here for this? Did she need prayer more than anything?

“Please bring the people who love her. Help them to surround her and remind her of Your love. Give her strength and hope.”

He should have asked Mr. Chambers or Mr. Benson to pray. They were so much better at this. Travis talked to God a lot, but his prayers always seemed basic.

“And… thank You for saving her. Help her to be strong. Healing is going to be tough, but she needs to remember to lean on You.”

Did she even know God? Another mystery added to the list.

The door creaked, and a short, dark-haired nurse flipped the lights on as she walked into the room.

“Oh, hello. You must be her husband.”

Travis stood, pushing the chair away from the woman on the bed. Being mistaken for her husband was a far cry from the truth. “No, I’m actually the paramedic who responded to the call. Has she had any visitors?”

“None yet. You don’t have any idea who she is?” the nurse asked.

“I’m sorry. I know less than you do.”

The nurse sighed and stepped up to the medical cart. “Well, we’ve been piecing together her medical file. She seems to bedoing well. She hasn’t woken up yet as far as we’re aware, but she’s stable.”

Travis backed into a corner while the nurse worked. The ache in his chest was starting to ease. Maybe he’d just needed to pray for her. It was really all he could do.

The nurse turned to him with a smile. “Will you be staying a while? Do you need anything?”

“No, I think I’m about to go.” He reached into his chest pocket for the notebook and pen he kept handy. “If I give you my phone number, will you let me know if she needs anything when she wakes up? I’d like to help her get in touch with her family.”

“Sure. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Travis scribbled his number on the paper and handed it to the nurse. “Thanks. I’m Travis.”

“I’ll put this in her chart,” the nurse said as she gave him a nod. “Take care.”

When he was left alone in the room with the woman again, Travis moved the seat closer to the bed. Bowing his head, he resumed his prayer from earlier.

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