Voracious - Alice Henderson [7]
It made her profoundly sad. Paul Stevenson was a nice man, a creative genius who had never been able to realize his dream in life: to make a living at painting. He had turned to drinking just last year and lost his job because of it. The whole town knew about it, and small towns could be as cruel as they were kind. The rumors were tearing his family apart, and Paul wept now, openly and grievously, in the face of such a near tragedy.
The double doors of the emergency room slid open, admitting a gush of fresh air. Madeline looked up. George New-castle stood there, his eyes searching the room. He spotted her and rushed over. A tall man in his early twenties, with long black hair swept back in a ponytail, George usually exuded calm. Right now he looked spooked.
“Madeline,” he breathed, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her. “I just heard. Are you okay?” The sensation of being hugged always thrilled her, and she welcomed the familiar scent of his wool jacket.
He pulled away and studied her with his intense brown eyes.
She’d known George for a little over seven months, and he had quickly become her closest friend. Her only friend. He’d moved to her little town and rented a house there to save money while attending the university in Missoula. Rent prices there were highly inflated, so he had chosen to commute instead.
He hugged her again, and she was grateful for him, for her life. She could be bobbing down the river right then, sightless eyes staring up at the darkening sky.
She pulled away, not wanting to hug him for too long. He was very nice, but he had feelings for her that she didn’t return, and she didn’t like the thought of leading him on.
“Thanks for coming, George,” she told him.
George slid in beside her. Taking her hand companion-ably, he whispered, “Any word?”
Madeline shook her head. “We’re still waiting.”
They returned to silence, listening only to the soft gasps and sniffs from Kate’s father.
A few minutes later, the door to the examination rooms opened, and a young Chinese-American doctor with short, spiky hair appeared. He approached them confidently, a pleased look on his face. They all stood up tensely.
“She’s going to be fine,” he told them, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. “She’s suffering from hypothermia and has some superficial cuts and bruises, but she’s going to be just fine.”
“Oh, God,” her dad gasped, bursting into tears again. “I couldn’t bear to lose her.”
“Well, you’re not going to,” the doctor reassured him, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Madeline here saved her life.” The doctor smiled at Madeline and gave her a slight nod.
Kate’s mother hugged her husband, then shook the doctor’s hand and thanked him over and over again.
“You have some paperwork to fill out, though,” the doctor told them.
The mother nodded and then turned to Madeline. “Thank you,” she said, her face twisting with emotion. “Words just don’t seem enough …” Then she grabbed Madeline, hugging her so tightly the air fled from her chest. Madeline grunted from the squeeze. Then reluctantly she released Madeline, gazing at her with such gratitude that Madeline grew uncomfortable. “Thank you,” she said again. “A thousand times thank you.”
“It’s okay,” Madeline said quickly. “You’re welcome.”
“No, it’s not enough,” Kate’s dad put in. “If it weren’t for your”—he paused, trying to find a word—“gift, then we wouldn’t have found her. Our little girl would be—” He didn’t finish.
“It’s okay. Really.” Madeline hated being the center of attention. She just wanted to slink out of there and go shut herself up in her apartment. “You’d better go finish that paperwork,” she said lamely.
To her relief, Kate’s parents nodded and turned away to follow the doctor.
“Get me out of here. Please,” she breathed to George.
She hoped word of this wouldn’t get out. She could already picture herself on assignment with the police, going over grisly photographs and murder weapons, her mind filling with images of horror and murder. It was exactly what she’d been avoiding since she lost Ellie.
George put one