Bridge to a Distant Star - Carolyn Williford [128]
But first they needed emergency care, so Fran, Aubrey, and Michal were placed on stretchers—Fran and Aubrey sharing one, since no one cared to attempt separating the two—and carried to the ship’s medical quarters. Once they’d been thoroughly examined, the doctor rebandaged Fran’s head, the only wound of any significance in comparison to other minor scrapes and bruises. To the doctor’s complete astonishment, he found nothing of consequence on Aubrey and only deep bruises on Michal’s hands—nothing evidencing the disaster they’d just survived. Lastly, he started intravenous fluids for all three, though not without a pitiful cry from Aubrey at the prick of the needle. The doctor’s heart wrenched at the sound.
The ship’s personnel had already contended with Aubrey’s hysterical demands to not be separated from Fran during the time it took to get them into dry clothes, to complete their examinations, to begin their IVs. Not until she was allowed back on Fran’s lap did Aubrey begin to calm down, clutching Fran every bit as frantically as before. Finally, his ministrations to the two women complete and Aubrey’s cries reduced to an occasional hiccup, the doctor nodded toward his captain.
Kneeling down on one knee before them, Captain Howard removed his cap, revealing a downy ring of white hair. He had kindly light blue eyes and a friendly smile, both of which he used to great effect when needed. He asked Fran, “Mrs. Thomason, is it? And this is your daughter, Aubrey?”
“No. Actually, she’s—” Fran shook her head, and immediately winced at the sudden sharp pain from the gash on her forehead. One pain reminded her of the other, for Fran’s eyes filled with tears and she sobbed out, “She’s not my daughter. I honestly don’t know who she is … and I lost … have you found my husband? My son?” She looked from the captain to the doctor to the others in the room, eyes searching, questioning. “Please? You’ll keep looking?”
Softly, the captain answered, “Ma’am, we do have our crew continually on the watch for any other survivors. But we … we were amazed, really, to find you three. For the magnitude of the disaster …” He hung his head.
“So we’re the only survivors you’ve found?” Michal asked, incredulous.
“Yes,” Captain Howard said. “And quite honestly, your survival is nothing less than a miracle.”
Fran continued to weep, and the captain reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Concerned about Fran’s reaction, the doctor intervened, cautioning, “Only a couple more questions at most, sir. I’m concerned she might have a concussion. And rather than do X-rays here, I think it best to wait and have them done ashore. At the hospital.”
The captain nodded in agreement. “Just one more thing.” Smiling, he peered into Aubrey’s face and reached out to run a hand gently down her head, over the tangled mass of curls. “You’re Aubrey, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Never taking wary eyes off him. Nor relaxing her hold on Fran in the slightest.
“What’s your last name, sweetheart? Do you know that?”
Insulted, she curtly replied, “’Course I do. It’s Roberts.”
Captain Howard replied in an “A-ha” tone. “So you’re Aubrey Roberts. Am I right?”
Aubrey nodded her head yes. After acknowledging her response with a complimentary “Good,” the captain glanced back over at the doctor, his mouth set in a grim line and a crease between his brows. “Hmm. The crew from the freighter indicated she was crying out, ‘Mommy.’” He scratched his head, fluffing the ring of white. “None of this adds up.”
“The angel tooked my mommy. And Rabbit,” Aubrey interjected, exasperated. “I cried—” Aubrey paused a moment, shaking the curls, “—the angel said it was okay to cry. But then he tooked me to her,” pointing a finger toward Fran’s chest. “’Cause she has