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12
Years Makes a Difference FREE
Romantic Fiction Online provided
by PneumaSender |
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Nighttime
Comfort Chapter 19 It
worried her that things were going so well. Eventually, they'd have to hit a
rough patch. Would they survive it? Shaking her head at the awful thought,
she focused on the exercise hour before her. Still,
in spite of her worries, things went well--perfectly, in fact. Every day,
they grew closer, and every day she found herself loving him more. They also
found time to talk and laugh and play games in the den each evening with her
parents. Life was wonderful with Patrick, she thought. And Christa found
herself increasingly miserable each time she thought of Patrick's very near
departure. One
night, realizing how soon it would be until he would have to leave, she had a
horrible dream. It began in a dark room, but through the doorway, and far off
down the corridor, a hospital gurney wheeled Patrick away. The attendants
were deaf to her cries, and Patrick was also silent as she screamed and
screamed for him. Awakened
suddenly, she sat up, sweating and terrified. "Here I am," Patrick
told her as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm right here; it's all a
dream--a bad dream." Still feeling the adrenaline and blinded by fear,
she clung to him, begging him over and over not to go away. Patrick
settled himself on the bed next to her and held her close as the sobs gave
way to shuddered sighs of relief. Eventually, her breathing slowed. Finally,
completely asleep, Christa drifted off and her dreams were tranquil and calm.
Patrick
felt as if he had just been given a precious gift. Although he had awakened
in a panic when he heard her screams, as he felt her relaxing, his mind
grasped a wonderful concept. She had called out for him! Settling her closer
to his chest, he felt buoyed by a sense of pride at the thought that of all
the names she could have chosen, Christa had decided to focus her mind on
him. Although
Christa was young, Patrick had increasingly been made aware of her strengths.
Moreover, this moment of vulnerability did nothing to dim the light of his
admiration for Christa. If anything, it made him feel more valuable than any
other single experience of his life. Now, looking back upon all the grand
events of his life, he realized with a start that all his honors and awards,
even being a doctor, could not compare with this one woman's love. "Oh,
Christa, thank you for loving me," he said. Upon hearing her contented
sigh, he eased his way out of her embrace and turned into the hallway. There,
he spotted Colby, asleep in an uncomfortable upright chair. Their
moment alone had been intimate and memorable, but seeing Dr. Colby in a
rocking chair across the hall reminded him that he was, indeed, surrounded by
caring and concern. And they had not been alone at all. The good doctor's
eyes twinkled as he shook off his sleep. His sense of humor lived, in spite
of the tiredness Patrick could plainly see. "So,
you two together in bed--what's that look like?" Patrick found himself
almost speechless. "Well, Sir, she called out for me in her
sleep..." His face got redder by the second before Colby's penetrating
gaze, "and at the time, I guess I wasn't thinking." Dr.
Colby's smile finally appeared. "You look a mite bashful, Son."
Bashful was precisely the expression on Patrick's face just then. He wished
the floor would open up and swallow him. |
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