Navy SEAL Rescuer by Shirlee McCoy Page A

hand.
    “Eileen?” She bent close to her grandmother’s ear, tears
clogging her throat. “Can you hear me?”
    “She’s in a coma, Catherine,” Peter said softly as the
ambulance raced into the night, sirens blaring, lights flashing.
    Catherine didn’t respond. She knew. She also knew what it
probably meant. The end.
    She wasn’t ready for that.
    She didn’t think she’d ever be ready.
    Please, Lord, if You’re ever going to
listen, if You’re ever going to answer, let it be now, because I really
don’t want to lose her yet.
    The prayer whispered through her mind, settled into her soul,
and she wanted so badly to believe God heard, wanted so badly to believe that He
cared, that tears spilled out, dripping onto her hand and Eileen’s as the
ambulance sped toward the hospital.

EIGHT
    “W hy’d you have them bring me here?” Eileen
griped as Catherine poured water into a plastic cup and shoved a straw into it.
Three hours after they’d arrived, Eileen had regained consciousness. She wasn’t
happy. Catherine couldn’t blame her. Hooked to an IV, heart monitors on her
chest, an oxygen tube in her nose, she’d woken confused and scared.
    Now, she was just angry.
    “You were unconscious and unresponsive. If we hadn’t brought
you here, you’d be dead.”
    “Right. A diabetic coma. Only I don’t have diabetes. Never
have.”
    “You do now. If we hadn’t been at Darius’s place...” She
couldn’t bring herself to finish. If they’d been home, if Eileen had been in her
room, Catherine wouldn’t have checked on her until morning. By that time, it
would have been too late.
    “Well, we were, and I’m fine. Let’s go home.” Eileen tried to
push the sheets off, but she was too weak, and the efforts barely moved the
material.
    “You’re not fine. You’re dehydrated, and your kidneys aren’t
functioning properly. This is the safest place for you for now.”
    “For now, or forever, Catherine Marie? Because I don’t want to
die here. You need to understand that. If I’m going to die, I want you to bring
me home. Let me die where I lived. Promise me that.” She reached for Catherine’s
hand, and Catherine patted her knuckles, her soul aching, her heart shaking with
sorrow.
    “I promise. As soon as the doctors clear you, we’ll go home.”
The words were easy to say, and Catherine meant every word. She just hoped she
could follow through. The police hadn’t contacted her, and she wasn’t sure if
they were finished at the house. Wasn’t sure how long it would be until she and
Eileen were allowed back.
    “That’s all I wanted to hear.” Eileen shut her eyes, her face
going slack so quickly Catherine wondered if she’d slipped into a coma again.
The heart monitor remained steady, her blood pressure low but normal.
    “She’s fine,” Catherine whispered, as if the words had the
power to make it true.
    Words. Prayers.
    They weren’t the same, but somehow they felt like they were,
the tenuous connection she’d tried to make with God still there.
    Had He answered her prayer?
    Eileen was alive, stable. More than likely she’d be released in
a day or two. Catherine had asked God for more time, and she’d been given it,
but she wasn’t sure how much of that was God and how much of that was
medicine.
    Maybe it didn’t matter.
    Maybe she just needed to accept that there were things in life
that were beyond what she saw and heard and felt. Maybe if she reached far
enough, she’d grasp the hand of the Creator and find the kind of peace she’d
always longed for.
    Eileen moaned, and Catherine adjusted the blankets again.
    Cancer.
    Kidney failure.
    Diabetes.
    Soon, her body would completely shut down. There was no doubt
about that. No miracle to be asked for. Catherine’s throat tightened, her chest
heavy and aching, anxiety snaking through every nerve and muscle and cell. She
needed fresh air, but she’d told Darius that she’d stay in the hospital until he
arrived.
    Three hours later, and he