Chapter Thirty-Three
“Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time;
it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.”
~Sydney Smith
He and Char both woke before dawn the next morning. After quick showers, Char explained infections, and rabies and the treatment Angel must yet endure with terrifying detail. Despite his formidable strength, a sense of uselessness in the face of all that had happened, and all that Angel must suffer filled him with a self-directed rage sufficient to render him mute.
Although the loss of his brothers, and more recently his father, were devastating blows, at least they had come about in battle, fighting a known and understandable enemy. The enemy that clambered after his sweet Angel stalked her in a shadow world he could not see much less understand. Once again, he’d failed to keep those he loved safe from harm.
The doctor offered a few parting words. “She’s heavily sedated and will likely sleep most of the ride home. I’m sure your presence will relax her as much as possible.”
Brian sat beside Angel, holding her hand. Attached to her cot a tall pole with multiple bags of fluids ran lines into her battered arms. Arms far too fragile to sustain the insult of tubes and needles invading delicate flesh purpled with bruises. An aide sat on the other side, monitoring those tubes and other vital statistics.
He’d failed her. He’d failed her, her parents trust in him, her brother, Char, his sense of responsibility—failed—all failed. Just as he’d failed to save his brothers and father in battle, and he’d failed to return to aid his mother in her grief. All those he loved were lost to him or suffering due to his failures. Sick with self-recrimination, Brian rubbed his thumb over the soft indent between Angel’s thumb and index finger. He hoped it soothed her. The tender heat of her hand offered the only comfort to his desolated soul.
Every half hour or so Angel opened her eyes seeking his, blinked away a few tears, and slipped quietly asleep again. He swore to every god who might be listening that he would devote the rest of his life to learning these current methods of saving lives and combating illness and infection, if only they would spare Angel’s life. He’d found his calling as certainly as he knew that this woman represented everything meaningful in his life. However long it took to achieve this goal, he would apply himself to gaining the knowledge of medicines.
A pang of agony ripped through him as he also accepted the equal certainty of his inadequacy. How dare he presume the foolish expectation that he deserved to share a life with the courageous woman who’d captured him, heart and soul? Why would she want him after he’d failed her so completely? He’d failed her when those ruffians broke into the clinic and battered her, and he’d failed her far more egregiously yesterday.
When they finally reached the hospital emergency entrance, Angel’s father came through the doors as the technicians lowered her gurney to the ground. The man’s hair fell in disarray over his forehead, and his shoulders were tense. He followed every movement made by the men handling his daughter. Alistair extended Brian his hand in a quick greeting, then rushed them through the hospital doors behind the gurney.
Angel languished in and out of fevered consciousness and rarely spoke.
Two days later, she received the first in a series of abdominal injections that would occur over the next 28 days. If she manifested only minimal reactive symptoms, Daniels funeral would occur the following day. Angel insisted on attending the funeral no matter how much her parents and grandmother urged her to remain in the hospital.
The day began under a thick blanket of fog, but by mid-afternoon, when the funeral services concluded, the sun blazed in a clear blue sky.
Brian stood behind Angel’s wheelchair with her mother sitting on one side and her father sitting on the other. Granny M and Char sat to either side of the parents. A large contingent of veterans attended, including Davey. Jonas stood vigilantly beside Char’s seat.
A military Honor Guard of five men fired three rounds into the still air. Each volley echoed through the cemetery causing many participants to recoil at the harsh finality of those shots. When they lowered Daniel’s casket into the ground, Char swayed as though she might fall out of her chair.
Because of Angel’s weakened condition and her refusal to return to the hospital, the family opened their home to visitors for only two hours after the funeral. Her father insisted Angel go directly to bed and Char stayed with her until the guests had all departed.
During the next few days, Angel exhibited what Brian thought were severe reactions. She ran intermittent low-grade fevers, suffered nausea, excruciating pain at the injection sight, pain caused by the wounds on her side, joint pain, and frequent vomiting. While rushing in and out of her sickroom, Alistair assured him these symptoms were to be expected
Although he stopped by her room over the next few days, she refused to speak with him. Char turned him away with barely an acknowledgement of his concerns.
Her refusal to see or speak with him slammed into him like a claymore’s blunted blade. It tore him to shreds. Who could blame her? He’d failed her, and she’d probably never forgive him. He’d never be able to forgive himself. The whole house tiptoed about in whispered concern, and each person withdrew into his or her own shell of sadness and silence.
To leave the family privacy with their sorrow, he spent extra hours at the clinic doing every little job he could find. He ran miles every day trying to expunge his agonizing sense of guilt. Even the poor dog couldn’t accompany him on his punishing exercises as the dog also received injections to ward against the rabies virus.
By the end of the first week following the incident, Brian couldn’t run fast or far enough to assuage his remorse, compounded by the fact that he still resided in Daniel’s bedroom. The dead man’s photographic images standing on the dresser, smiling and happy with family by his side, mocked Brian’s every hour in the home until the torment of his intrusion on the family’s grief rasped over his skin like phantom lashes from a cougar’s claws and fangs.
Finally, he realized he could no longer violate their privacy and generosity. It was long past time for him to step into this new world and carve his own path. Whether he liked it or not, he had to establish a life independent from the generosity of others. He already owed the Adair’s a debt beyond reckoning. Early that morning, following a punishing run, he encountered Jonas.
“Hey Brian, you look terrible. Want to join me for a coffee?”
Brian welcomed the male companionship and hoped he wouldn’t intrude on their new friendship when he pressed him for assistance.
As soon as the waiter served their hot, steaming cups, Jonas inquired about the family. “How are things at the Adair’s? How’s Angel? I’ve meant to drop by, but one can’t be sure of the right thing to do in these situations. I don’t want to intrude. And I haven’t been able to reach Char. She doesn’t return my calls, and she never answers her door.”
“Char’s spending most of her time with Angel. Things are…awkward. Angel’s not responding well to the medicine. She’s very sick and keeps to her room. I don’t believe she’s left her bed since returning from the funeral. To my dismay, she has repeatedly refused to see me.” He hadn’t meant to share that, but now that he had, her refusal settled like the greatest loss of his life. He couldn’t forgive his failure, why should she. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hold him to blame more than he already blamed himself.
Jonas kindly held his silence, listening to Brian’s lament. “Everyone spends all their time tending to her or the dog or dealing with their own responsibilities and grief. I try to stay out of the way, but my presence only reminds them of Daniel’s absence. I’ve decided to move out, seek employment elsewhere, and give the family time to heal.”
Jonas raised a speculative eyebrow, then smoothed his face into a blank canvas. “Yeah, I can understand. I heard that MacMurry’s Construction is hiring. I’m sure you could get a job with them. The Scottish club and the university bulletin boards always have postings about job opportunities. You could check there.”
Brian spent the rest of the day investigating every job opportunity he found. On the last call, a contractor offered him a position. As it turned out, the contractor had recently received treatment at the clinic and had seen him working there. The contractor didn’t ask Brian why he wanted another job. He simply said they’d be refurbishing an apartment complex in a place called Oakland and that the job would last for six to eight weeks.
When Brian explained he didn’t have transportation or housing, the man suggested Brian bunk in one of the empty apartments until they completed the job, thus eliminating his need for a vehicle. This way he could earn a bit more by serving as both day worker and defacto night security guard.
Late that night Brian packed his few belongings, including a dark-green borrowed sweatshirt, one of Daniel’s jackets and an extra pair of jeans, promising himself he’d reimburse the Adair’s for the items even though they’d never be needed again. He also borrowed one of the sleeping bags.
He wrote brief notes to Granny M, to Dr. & Mrs. Adair, thanking them profusely for everything they’d done for him and promising to repay their expenses on his behalf as soon as he’d earned sufficient funds. He didn’t mention where he was going. The note to Angel wrenched every emotion from his soul, but he kept it as brief as possible.
My Dearest Angel,
You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. I’m so very sorry I failed you, my Angel. I hope in time you’ll find a way to forgive me and remember me with fondness as I’ll always remember you. My only regret is that I could not spare you this sadness and pain.
You’ll always hold my heart.
Angus Brian Cameron
At 5:00 a.m., he quietly slipped out the back gate. The morning air held a decided sharp chill, but something colder wound through his chest and seized him with bitter despair. He glanced back at the house as he rounded the corner, and then broke into a trot to reach the meeting place for his ride.