Page 70 of A Chance at Forever
Regret crossed his face. “I’m not sure.” He saw tears brimming in her eyes and cupped her cheeks. “Tori, I’ll text you every day we’re apart. Please don’t be sad. Please. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
Rusty kissed her one last time and disappeared into the dark, snowy night.
*
In the earlyhours of the morning, the heavy snowfall developed into a fierce blizzard. All reports indicated it would last for a couple of days. When Victoria heard the news, she decided to go next door and check on Rusty’s house. Outside, she could barely see two feet in front of her as she tramped through hard-packed snowdrifts. As she used the key Rusty had given her, Victoria was alarmed to discover his unlocked back door.
Strange. He wouldn’t leave without making sure everything was secure.
Her consternation grew as she observed the dirty dishes in the sink, and coffee warming in a pot. Rusty usually kept his kitchen clean. As she wandered through the dining room, her eyes fell upon two suitcases sitting by the front door. Worried now, she called Rusty’s name. Receiving no answer, she headed upstairs.
When Victoria pushed open the door to the master bedroom, she drew in her breath. Rusty lay shivering beneath three blankets and the quilt she had given him last night. Rushing forward, she felt his forehead.
“Oh, no! You’re burning with fever.”
She rummaged in the bathroom and found the thermometer. His temperature read 104 degrees. Victoria pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. No service. In this storm getting to a hospital was impossible.
Victoria made a quick decision. She trudged home, packed some necessities, filled a grocery bag with things she would need, and called Bud to follow her. She locked up her house and hurried back to Rusty.
Unconscious from his fever, Victoria’s first priority was to reduce Rusty’s temperature. Sitting next to him on the bed, she bathed him with cool water. To see him in such a helpless condition unnerved her, but she reined in her fear.
“My poor darling,” she cooed. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”
Since she didn’t know anything about his medication, she refrained from giving it to him. It didn’t seem to be helping anyway. After she finished applying a wet rag, she held his head and gave him a few sips of water. She had to keep him hydrated. Though his temperature had dropped a couple of degrees, his chills grew worse. Victoria’s heart wrenched to watch his teeth chattering and hear him moan, “Cold. It’s so cold.”
She couldn’t stand it any longer. Crawling next to his quivering form, she shared her own body heat. Victoria guided his head onto her shoulder and held him close. Soon, his chills subsided, but his breathing grew labored. She wondered if he’d developed pneumonia.
The wind howled. They lost electricity. Expecting this, Victoria was already equipped with a flashlight and candles. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the walls as she sat by Rusty in a chair and dozed.
When evening fell, he grew delirious. Victoria heard him groaning and thrashing and moved to the bed so she could hold his hand. “It’s my fault. My fault. They’re dead because of me.” Rusty tossed his head from side to side. “I wanted it all. The glory. The money. My life.”
His nightmares continued throughout the long night. Victoria comforted him during each one, bathing his face and trying to make sense of his ravings. She couldn’t tell if he was only dreaming or reliving the past. She did, however, conclude that Rusty somehow blamed himself for his parents’ death.
In the morning, he grew calmer. Although his fever still worried Victoria, his chills had subsided, and she was able to get more fluids into his system. Rusty remained unconscious, opening his eyes only when he was in the grip of a nightmare.
Wanting to do something to bring him back and assure him of her presence, Victoria sang to Rusty during the afternoon until her voice grew hoarse. She then left him alone long enough to take a quick sponge bath. Emerging from the bathroom a few minutes later, she glanced toward the bed and saw Rusty’s glassy green eyes focused on her.
“I love you, Tori. I love you. Please don’t leave me.”
Rushing to his side, her heart bursting with tenderness and love for him, Victoria grabbed his hot hand and brought it to her lips. “I won’t, my love. I promise I won’t ever leave you.”
He lapsed into unconsciousness again. Victoria brushed the hair from his forehead. Joy flooded her entire being. She was certain he’d been lucid when he declared he loved her. “I love you, too. I absolutely adore you.”
Rusty’s fever broke that evening after he experienced another bout of delirium. He kept yelling over and over that his parents’ plane crash was his fault. Victoria spoke soothingly to him during the whole ordeal, not understanding what plagued him but grateful that afterward his sweaty body felt cool to her touch, his color began to return to normal, and he slept peacefully.
The winter storm abated, too. It wouldn’t be long before a snowplow cleared the streets and power was restored. She also looked forward to her cell phone being back online so she could call Dr. Morrison. Even though Rusty’s condition had improved, she was still concerned about him.
When Victoria entered Rusty’s bedroom the next morning, she was relieved to find him awake. Although his emerald eyes were dull from his recent ordeal, he was alert. She carried a tray of clear broth and apple juice and placed it on the nightstand. Perching beside him, she offered a tender smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty,” he whispered in a raspy voice. She held the cup of apple juice to his lips. “What happened, Tori?”
“You’ve had another setback, Rusty.”
He frowned. “How long was I out of it?”
