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The warmth of Chad’s smile brought a ray of light to a portion of Vicky’s heart that had been dark for a long time. How strange that she was here to help him, and he had encouraged her.
As Vicky walked down the hallway, she gradually lost the upbeat attitude she’d shown Chad. She had overheard a discussion in the hospital lounge not intended for her ears. She knew that Chad Reece was in for a sad awakening. When that happened, someone would have to be around to pick up the pieces, and maybe, just maybe, she would be that someone.
IRENE BRAND
Writing has been a lifelong interest of this author, who says that she started her first novel when she was eleven years old and hasn’t finished it yet. However, since 1984, she’s published more than thirty contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles. She started writing professionally in 1977 after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself to writing.
Consistent involvement in the activities of her local church has been a source of inspiration for Irene’s work. Traveling with her husband, Rod, to all fifty states and to thirty-two foreign countries has also inspired her writing. Irene is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters with strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187, or visit her Web site at www.irenebrand.com.
A Husband for All Seasons
Irene Brand
MILLS & BOON
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Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying,
“Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”
And I said, “Here am I. Send me.”
—Isaiah 6:8
Special thanks to my relatives, Julia Pasquale, M.D. (specialty in emergency medicine) and Alice Giles, M.S. in nursing, for sharing their knowledge and experience about lacerations to the renal artery and subsequent kidney transplants.
Also my thanks to my friend Tony Leport, who steered me in the right direction for information regarding professional football players.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
“Help! Help!”
Chad Reece struggled to open his eyes, wondering why he couldn’t move. Was he lying on the gym floor with a heavy weight on his chest?
“Help!” a weak voice called again.
Chad was always the first to help when any of his teammates were injured. Responding to the distress call, he tried to sit up. Gentle hands on his shoulders pushed him backward.
“Don’t try to move,” a kind voice cautioned sternly. “You’ll pull out your IVs if you don’t settle down. I’m supposed to keep you quiet, so cooperate, please.”
Chad opened his eyelids slightly, and even that was an effort. He wasn’t lying on the floor. He wasn’t in his apartment. He wasn’t in his parents’ home, so where was he? Who was this woman hovering over him—a woman, with a soft voice, who smoothed his pillow and wiped his face with a warm, moist cloth?
“Where am I?”
“You’re in OSU Medical Center in Columbus, Ohio.”
In the hospital? He never got sick—not since the ear infections he’d had as a toddler.
“Are you real? Or am I dreaming?”
“It isn’t a dream, Mr. Reece. You were recently airlifted to the medical center from a small hospital in eastern Ohio. I don’t know all the details, but it seems you had an injury that hospital couldn’t handle. Don’t worry—you’re doing great. You’ve been calling for help, and I’m here if you need me. Go back to sleep.”
Chad closed his eyes, but he didn’t want to sleep. Airlifted to this hospital! The last he remembered, it was the first weekend in September, and he had been in Pittsburgh heading for the goalpost during the first football game of the season. He recalled the shouting of the spectators and the victory celebration of the cheerleaders—sounds that had been music to his ears since he had started playing football as a teenager.
When he had vaulted to safety with the ball, he must have grazed the goalpost, for it toppled and knocked him down. He had felt a sharp pain in his back, but that discomfort had faded into the background as they celebrated. He had scored for his team and started his third NFL season with a winning touchdown. Why worry about a pain in his back?
Eluding his many fans, at the end of the game, Chad got into his car, needing some solitude to unwind from the tension he’d been under for several days. After the emotional high of a game, nothing settled Chad more than driving alone through the rural area of Western Pennsylvania and Eastern Ohio. He didn’t want to talk. He turned his cell phone off so he could concentrate on driving.
But a few hours of driving brought excruciating pain in his side and back. Although he was bent double with pain, he drove slowly to a hospital in the next town. He must have blacked out before he saw a doctor, for he didn’t remember what happened after that.
Chad opened his eyes again. “And who are you?” he asked the aide, hardly recognizing his own voice, which sounded faraway.
“I’m Vicky Lanham, a hospital volunteer, and I’m sitting with you through the night. Your parents will be back tomorrow morning.”
Parents? His parents were in Alabama. Although they had rarely missed any of his high school and college games, they had stopped following him when he turned pro. They had watched his last game on television. He must be having a nightmare.
He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t move.
When Chad woke up again, he was more alert and aware of his surroundings. He was in a hospital, but the young woman had gone, and his parents stood beside his bed. Tears glistened on his mother’s wrinkled, wistful face.
Trying to smile, he said, “Aw…it can’t be that bad, Mom. What happened to me?”
She shook her head, unable to speak, and Chad turned questioning eyes toward his father.
“You had an accident at the football game. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember Tommy and me bumping into each other and toppling the goalpost.”
His father smiled wanly. “Yes, it was an outstanding victory at the last minute, thanks to you. But I wonder if the cost was worth it. You had to have surgery.”
“Surgery? How long have I been in the hospital?”
“Five days. The doctor is coming soon to talk to us about your surgery and when you can be discharged.”
Chad asked no more questions. He’d already learned more than he wanted to know. Besides his head hurt and he felt shaky inside, as if he had been sick for weeks instead of five days. He had never stayed overnight in the hospital, and he had been here almost a week! He was adopted, and although he didn’t know anything about his birth parents, his pediatrician had always told him that he must have inherited good genes. And now he was in the hospital.
Chad closed his eyes, trying to sort out what his father had told him. If this had to happen, why couldn’t it have been the last game of the season instead of the first? What if this surgery meant he couldn’t play the rest of the season? He wished he could go back to sleep with the assurance that all he’d heard was a dream.
The surgeon came in a short time later, shook hands with Chad’s parents and spoke cheerily to Chad. He was a slender, white-haired man with a gray mustache. An RN followed him carrying an electronic machine to record his condition. The surgeon checked all of the tubes and wires attached to Chad’s body, and in a crisp voice, rattled off a lot of numbers and terms that didn’t mean anything to Chad. The nurse logged the information into the machine she held since all the hospital’s records were electronic.
Turning to Stewart Reece, the surgeon asked, “What have you told him?”
“Very little,” Reece said.
“That’s just as well, I suppose.”
Chad became aware that his mother was crying softly, and he knew the prognosis must be serious. He steeled himself for bad news. Had he broken his hip when he had fallen? If so, he could kiss his professional football games goodbye for this season. Or a worse possibility—maybe forever.
Chad wondered at the compassionate expression in the surgeon’s eyes as he turned toward him.
“Chad, your parents wanted to be here when I discussed your injury with you.”
Mr. Reece moved to Chad’s side and laid a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. Chad looked up at his father’s face noting the signs of fatigue lingering in his eyes. Again it hit Chad just how old his parents were.
It couldn’t have been easy for his parents to adopt a baby when they were nearing middle age. To Chad they’d often seemed more like his grandparents when compared to his friends’ parents. Both of small stature, with fair complexions and blue eyes, it was obvious that the Reeces couldn’t have borne a son as tall and muscular as Chad with his dark eyes and features. But there had never been a day when Chad hadn’t loved them for giving him a home.
“We’ve kept you sedated for the past several days,” the surgeon continued, “so you probably don’t remember anything that happened. There isn’t an easy way to tell you. You suffered a serious injury in that last ball game, but it must not have been apparent at first. You had taken a drive and stopped at a small hospital in Ohio. After a brief exam, it was obvious you needed more care than that hospital could provide. You were airlifted to OSU Medical Center because our surgical team is one of the best in the country for your type of injury.”
He hesitated, and Chad, weary of the suspense, said crossly, “Well, what is it? What happened to me?”
“We’re not certain if the goalpost fell on your side, or if your buddy’s fall onto you caused your injury. Somehow you suffered a transverse process fracture of the thoracic spine and lacerated your renal artery.”
“Say it in plain English, please?”
“Your kidney was crushed beyond repair.”
Chad cringed from the impact of the doctor’s words, but he had known when he started playing football that it was a dangerous sport. He swallowed with effort, trying to ignore the panic the doctor’s words had generated. “Can’t people live with only one kidney?”
“That’s true,” the surgeon agreed. “But that was the only kidney you had.”
Chad turned a bewildered, frightened look on the doctor before his eyes darted toward his mother. So that’s why she was crying! “I find that hard to believe,” Chad said. “How could I have lived this long without two kidneys? It just isn’t possible!”
“It is possible, but not common.” the surgeon continued. “Some people are born with only one kidney and live perfectly normal lives. If you’ve never been to a hospital, there’d be no reason prior to this that your condition would have been found.”
“I still can’t believe it!” Chad argued, knowing that he didn’t want to believe it.
The surgeon regarded him with gentle, compassionate eyes. “Chad, I’ve been a surgeon for more then twenty years. I’ve had at least ten patients, maybe more, who had only one kidney but didn’t know it until something else happened to them and the abnormality was discovered when they were being tested for a different problem.”
Chad closed his eyes, trying to take in this information.
“Also, I’ve removed countless diseased kidneys and my patients have lived out a normal life with only one kidney.”
“Son, we had no idea about this,” his father said. “Your health has always been good, and the problem didn’t show up in the tests you took to qualify for football. I’m sorry we didn’t learn about it sooner.”
“You’re not to blame.” Looking at the doctor, Chad asked, “Does this mean I’m going to die if I don’t have a kidney transplant?”
There was no fear in Chad’s voice, and he tried to calm his racing pulse. Dying wasn’t in his immediate plans for the future, but he had been a Christian since he was a boy, so he wasn’t afraid to die.
“A donor was found rather quickly,” the surgeon said. “We replaced your kidney yesterday, and you’re doing great. Unless there are complications, which I don’t expect, you can be released next week. You need rest more than anything else right now. The nurse has put a sedative in your IV, which will make you sleep.”
He did feel sleepy, and Chad didn’t protest when his parents said they would stay with him. His rest was troubled, and he felt as if he was weaving in and out of a fog. He had always believed that God held him in the hollow of His hand. If so, why had He allowed this accident to happen?
He had been playing football since he was in middle school without any serious injuries. Why couldn’t he have found out when he was a teenager that he wasn’t normal? He’d always been so proud of his body, and all the time, he was an accident waiting to happen. Why did it have to happen now when his future was wrapped up in pro football?
Chad’s hands moved restlessly and something tugged at the back of his mind and worried him. He finally woke up at the insistence of the woman he had seen the night before.
“What’s your name?” he asked. “I forgot.”
“Try to remember,” she said. “You need to start remembering things.”
“Are you a nurse?” he asked.
“No. I do volunteer work at the hospital, and sometimes I’m asked to sit with patients who shouldn’t be left alone. I call a nurse if there’s an emergency. Your parents stayed here with you until you were past the critical stage. Now that you’re out of intensive care, they went to spend the night at a hotel to rest. I was asked to sit with you through the night.”
He peered intently at her face, trying to remember her name. “Is it Vicky?”
She gave him a thumbs-up, a smile lighting her face. “Sure is. Vicky Lanham. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“I’m thirsty.”
She poured a fresh glass of water, inserted a straw and bent it. She put her hand behind his neck and lifted until his lips touched the straw. The water soothed his parched throat and the touch of her cool hand on his warm skin was comforting.
She lowered his head to the pillow and picked up her purse and jacket.
“I have to go to work this afternoon, so I need to leave now.”
“Are you coming back tonight?”
“You’re getting along very well. You won’t need any supervision that the nursing staff can’t give you.”
Chad closed his eyes, but opened them again quickly. The medication was making him sleepy, and he didn’t want Vicky to leave before he thanked her. Blinking he said, “Thanks for helping Mom and Dad. I know they’ve been upset by all of this. The pain medicine they’re giving me keeps me asleep so much of the time that I haven’t really had much time to think about what a narrow escape I had. It seems like the doctors found a donor very quickly, but I’ve been so out of it when they were here that I haven’t asked my parents if they know who it was.”
“If I’m in the hospital again before you’re released, I’ll stop in to see how you’re doing.”
The warmth of his smile brought a ray of light to a portion of Vicky’s heart that had been dark for a long time. How strange that she was here to help him and he had encouraged her.
As Vicky walked down the hallway, she lost the upbeat attitude she had displayed to Chad. Since his admittance to the hospital, scores of media representatives had been camped near the hospital waiting for the latest news about the football star. The surgeons had given daily reports of his condition and details of the serious injury were widespread. Seemed as if everyone in the nation, except Chad, knew what had happened to him.
Vicky had overheard a discussion in the hospital lounge not intended for her ears. She knew that Chad Reece was in for a sad awakening. When that happened someone would have to be around to pick up the pieces, and maybe, just maybe, she would be that someone. Up to this point, Vicky had drifted through life, but if she could help this man accept the disappointment he faced, it might provide a catalyst to deal with her own shattered dreams.
Chad woke from another nap when his parents entered the room, accompanied by his friend Lorene Saunders, carrying Amy, her two-year-old daughter. Chad stared when an orderly followed, pushing Perry Saunders in a wheelchair. Chad was speechless. In a few seconds he recalled his first meeting with Perry and Lorene several years ago.
He had met them before they were married, when he was a senior in college. That was the summer he had worked as a chauffeur and bodyguard for Jon Preston, his good friend and rising country music sensation. Chad had accompanied Jon to his gig in Woodston, Kentucky, where Perry was a professor at the local college. Lorene’s public relations agency had been contacted to promote Woodston’s bicentennial celebration. When she came to Kentucky to oversee the promotion, she and Perry were reunited for the first time in twenty years. Although they were twice his age, he had liked them at once, and they all became good friends. He was pleased when his parents also developed a liking for Perry and Lorene. The Saunders’s later moved to Southern California, where Amy was born. After that, Chad saw them infrequently, although they talked often by phone.
“Regular old home week,” he said. “Hi, Lorene. You’re as beautiful as ever.”
Lorene bit her curved lips as if she was trying to control tears that threatened to overflow. Her long black eyelashes splayed over her face, and she didn’t return Chad’s greeting.
Dark circles bordered her blue eyes and it seemed that Lorene had aged since he had last seen her six months ago. But Amy’s bright black eyes sparkled at Chad, and he believed the girl remembered him. He tried to lift his left hand to Amy’s outstretched one, but his hand seemed as heavy as lead. He let it drop back on the sheet.
Chad’s eyes scanned the four adults in the room. Did he imagine it or was there a guilty expression on their faces?
Attempting to believe that he was imagining things, Chad said, “It’s good of you to come to visit me. But why are you in a wheelchair, Perry?”
Perry Saunders was the most handsome man Chad had ever seen. Tall and slender, with a well-proportioned body, Perry had black onyx eyes and thick silvery-gray hair. His trim mustache added dignity to his high cheekbones and straight, prominent nose. But a gray pallor marked his face today and his hands were trembling. Next to his father, Chad admired Perry above all men.
“I’m all right, Chad. I’ll let your father explain.”
Chad glanced toward his parents, but they wouldn’t meet his eyes. Without analyzing his feelings, anger welled up in Chad’s chest.
“We’ve never hidden the fact that you were adopted,” his father stated, a tremor in his voice.
“No. That’s has never bothered me.” But even as he spoke, in light of what he now suspected, Chad wondered if the statement was really true.
“We’ve known who your biological parents were for several years. We didn’t tell you because you’ve always said you didn’t want to know. But if it hadn’t been for them, you might be dead now.”
Again Chad glanced around the room. His suspicions were true, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
“I still don’t want to know.”
“Why, Chad? It seems so unusual,” Lorene said. “Most people are curious about their family roots.”
“I don’t know exactly. I thought about it a lot when I was a boy, but as I grew older, it didn’t seem to matter. Maybe I didn’t want to admit that my birth parents didn’t want me,” he said, almost in a whisper.
Chad paused, and a chill seemed to have penetrated the room. The silence was deafening. Except for Amy, who was squirming in Lorene’s arms, no one moved. Almost it seemed that no one breathed. After a suffocating moment, Mr. Reece cleared his throat.
“You’d always said that you didn’t want to know, and frankly, we preferred it that way, too. I guess we wanted to feel that you were really ours. But when the surgeon said that your chances of recovery were low if you didn’t have a replacement kidney right away, we had to choose between your life and letting you find out your roots. Sometimes it takes years to find a donor with a matching organ. We didn’t want to lose you. We told your biological parents about your injury.”
Breathing deeply, as if he found it hard to reveal the past after concealing it for so long, Mr. Reece said quietly, “As soon as Perry and Lorene heard from us, they boarded a plane immediately, either of them willing to be a donor.”
Chad’s gaze sharpened and he studied each of the adults individually. His mother had covered her face with her hands. Lorene’s eyebrows had drawn together giving her face an agonized expression. Stewart Reece studied his son with curious intensity. A momentary look of pain crossed Perry’s face, and a wistful plea for forgiveness shone in his eyes.
Chad turned his head and closed his eyes. His heart beat erratically. Learning about his bad injury was a bitter pill to swallow. He had told his parents that he didn’t want to know anything about his origin, but surely after he met Perry and Lorene, he should have been told the truth. He felt betrayed, humiliated, and actually stupid that he hadn’t even suspected who his parents were.
When he opened his eyes, the Reeces had gone. Perry had wheeled his chair close to the bed and Lorene stood beside him. Under Lorene’s watchful eye, Amy was toddling around the room.
“We owe you an explanation, Chad,” Perry said.
He shook his head, and he couldn’t keep the tears from seeping under his eyelids. “I don’t want to hear it.”
He had idolized these two people. He didn’t want to hear a sordid story that would topple them from the pedestal where he’d placed them.
“If you don’t want to listen for yourself,” Lorene said, “at least, for our sakes, let us tell you what happened. We’ve waited years to ask for your forgiveness.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Just leave me alone!”
“We are not leaving, Chad,” Perry said in a voice that brooked no argument. “You need to hear the truth—after that, if you don’t want to see us again, we won’t bother you. But we’ve waited for years to explain what happened. You are going to listen.”
Motioning to all of the tubes and medical equipment that held him immobile, Chad said bitterly, “I’m a captive audience, so I have no choice except to listen. But I promise you, I’m not going to like it.”
Chapter Two