EPILOGUE
Fall the following year…
A year can feel like a lifetime. Especially when it is full of life changing, world tilting, earth shaking milestones. Small town McKenzie Ridge, and its people, weren’t immune to such – good or bad. It had been a whirlwind, and only the beginning. They say life’s trials and tribulations are purposeful, and prepare you for what is to come. But nothing, nothing at all, could have prepared McKenzie for what was to befall their town and family.
Colton and Megan enjoyed a beautiful spring wedding the year before, all of their friends present, without a trace of menacing psychopaths to mention. The day was full of reunions, love, and…surprises. Their blessed day went on without a hitch; however their honeymoon in the San Juan Islands, off the Puget Sound at Beck’s personal compound, was anything but.
Meg’s overly emotional state at the birth of their piglets, and unusual fainting spell during a chaotic incident on the ranch just prior to the wedding, had an explanation. The bumpy ferry ride across the Sound to the islands couldn’t be blamed for Meg’s sea legs and unbearable nausea upon arrival. It seems fate, karma, Mother Nature, Murphy with his laws and whatever other outside force that exists and likes to tamper with life chose that very moment to reveal the dirty little pre-marital secret it had been hiding. A baby.
Olivia Grace Sparks was born Christmas day, on the steps of McKenzie General Hospital, in the middle of an uncommon snow and ice storm that made getting there nearly impossible. Like her entrance into the world, her presence was fiercely grand as was the love everyone had for her.
To celebrate her birth, a chicken with a droopy wing was added to the menagerie. Barb had a specially made sling to keep her wing in place so it wouldn’t drag. Rambo mightily protected his new baby and new mate.
With the previous year’s spring debauchery a distant memory, and with peace and quiet back in place at Pinecrest, another wedding went into the making. Morgan and Beck had a small summer wedding with just their immediate friends, at the same San Juan Island estate owned by Beck. He flew the gang to Northern Washington where they took the ferry together across the Sound for the full experience.
His Deception Pass, island home boasted spectacular views of the ocean, rocky cliffs, and the awe inspiring island life that rested below his home up on, yes…a ridge. It was a quaint town that offered a long weekend of fun for all with its island life. The Jameson-McCain wedding ended the season on a high note as summer tourist season came to an end back in McKenzie Ridge, and the fall and winter crowds geared up.
Things were calm, eerily calm in fact. Nature had long since let go of her ample green canvas, giving way to the burnt shades of fall as the first snow arrived, announcing winter was just around the corner. The shifting seasons meant shifting tourists with a lull in the crowd as the town waited for the snow birds and holiday getaway crowd.
Dawson and Carigan sat in their ambulance, parked at the Pavilion In The Park, feasting on breakfast goodies, waiting for their next emergency call. “It’s been quiet; maybe we’ll get lucky and have an easy day today,” Dawson offered in between bites of his favorite Baker’s Bakery delight, a fritter.
“Oh, you just jinxed us! Good going! You better eat that fast and get your bathroom break in…I feel a call coming in now!” Carigan was half joking, but her very Irish roots were superstitious enough to believe in such a thing. Her bites were bigger, and she gulped her coffee, clearly convinced that they were truly jinxed.
Dawson laughed, enjoying the unease he saw building as her mind must have spun with lurid thoughts of what kind of jinx he brought to their day. “You don’t seriously believe all of that, do you? If we get a call, it’s because we were going to get a call anyway. Lighten up, O’Reilly. Nothing too serious happens here.”
“Oh, you did it again. Dawson Tayler, just stop talking, you jinx!” Carigan did some form of a Hail Mary Prayer and did a sign of the cross gesture touching her forehead, breast bone, then vertically from shoulder to shoulder. She was
superstitious…and apparently religious.
Dawson chuckled once more, before the radio alarmed, the beeping sound alerting them to their next call. “Medic 3, Engine 5, we have a fall at Bakers Bakery on Main Street, respond on TAC two.”
Carigan’s eyes widened at the timing of the call, her hand almost shook as she grabbed the radio to respond, “TAC two, this is Medic 3…go ahead.”
A familiar voice carried over the radio as the fire engine being called to the emergency responded as well. Colton. “TAC two, Engine 5…go ahead.”
“Medic 3, Engine 5…patient is an unconscious elderly female, details pending. Police on scene, offering aid.”
Carigan closed her eyes and took a deep breath before responding, “Copy dispatch, Medic 3 enroute, ETA three minutes.”
Over the radio, Colton could be heard announcing his team’s reply, “Engine 5 copy. ETA 3 minutes, dispatch.”
Dawson took a brief look at Carigan as they pulled onto the main road, lights and sirens engaged, headed to their patient. “Carigan, this is just a routine call. Dispatch said elderly woman at Baker’s. It’s probably one of Lou’s gray haired groupies dealing with too much sugar from a Jed’s donuts. We’ve made this call a hundred times. It’ll be fine. I feel a bruise forming on my ass from her pinching already.”
“Medic 3, Engine 5, they need you hot on scene. Patient unresponsive. CPR in progress.”
“Medic three, copy.”
“Engine 5, copy that.”
Moments later, they parked in front of Baker’s where a small crowd with shocked expressions was forming. Colton and Jessie were pulling up behind them with their engine crew, heading in behind Dawson and Carigan. Jessie burst through the next crowd they encountered just inside the bakery.
“Let’s go, move it…everyone outside. Clear a path. Let’s go…outside.” She repeated herself over and over until the crowd fully complied and made their way out the door.
The roar of anxious chatter dulled to just a few familiar voices coming from the furthest corner of the bakery. Dawson and Carigan rushed to their patient, Colton and Jessie following closely behind, ready to offer assistance. As they approached, their collective breath caught, as the ground shifted, and the earth fell from beneath their feet.
At a nearby table, Sam sat sobbing as Meg comforted her with tear stained cheeks. Blake was hovering over the body, administering CPR while Morgan, shedding tears of her own, counted and waited her turn in the resuscitation process. A quaky chill stopped time where it stood as reality fell into place.
Blake sat up, turning to the rescue team, wet glassy eyes pegged on them, desperate, while Morgan took over. Looking down, now able to see who their patient was, still as could be, a simultaneous gasp escaped them. Lying pale and lifeless on the floor was the backbone of their perfectly imperfect family, Granny Lou.
Instinct kicking in, pushing down all emotion, the team went to work as Blake and Morgan shared the few details they had. Emotional cries lingered in the air, trying to distract the rescue effort as each of them wanted to break down too. Not that anyone could ever prepare for an ordeal so tragic or even anticipate it, this felt so out of place and surprising – a nightmare.
“She just fell…” Blake said, his tone sullen and laced with pain. “She gave us crap for being cops, picking up donuts, and then…then she just…went blank and…fell.”
Dawson and Carigan went to work, setting aside who she was or how they felt. Granny Lou was just a patient they were trying to save. That’s all that she could be in that moment. Taking a knee next to them, Jessie and Colton offered their help, passing lifesaving tools between them like the team that they were.
“Clear!” Dawson hollered as he placed the defibrillator paddles on Lou’s chest, trying to bring her back to life. A loud punching sound startled the few bystanders as a jolt of electricity coursed through Lou’s body, lifting it off the ground.
The team paused, assessing the results of their resuscitation attempt. Nothing. Erratic pulse at best, she wasn’t breathing on her own, there was just a shell of a person laying there. It looked like her, but it was as if she was gone, absent from her body.
Colton rattled off details while Jessie charted them, relaying information to the Emergency Room so they were prepared for Lou’s arrival, while Dawson hollered again, “Clear!”
Going through the motions of their protocol, assessing the outcome of their attempts with the defibrillator, Carigan let out a sigh of relief and said, “Let’s bag her and load up!”
“Fluids up, IV in,” Colton said, referring to the bag of saline he readied and the line in her arm prepared for whatever they may need to administer.
The team worked perfectly in sync, carefully but briskly loading their most precious patient. Raising the gurney to move her to the ambulance, Dawson turned briefly, meeting his wife’s gaze as he walked away. He hated to leave her in such a state, but he had a job to do and a life to save. Their family matriarch needed him, and he was going to do all that he could to save her.
“I’ll get Sam there safely,” Blake said, reading his friends’ despair, “you get Lou there safely.”
A quick nod and they were out the door, securing Lou in the ambulance. Thank God they were only a quick five minute trip to the ER. Five minutes that would surely feel like hours.
Climbing into the back of the ambulance as the attendee, Dawson called for help when Lou’s health went into a downward spiral, “Starting manual compressions! Jessie you’re riding, need your help back here! Carigan let’s go…we’re running out of time!”
The doors to the ambulance slammed shut and they were gone in an instance, lights flashing, sirens blaring. Filing out of the Bakery, the rest of them stood in shock, watching the ambulance disappear, Dawson’s last words looming over them.
“We need to find Evie,” Sam said, her voice low and monotone. “She’s at a conference in Portland. Doc Charles is there too. They need to be here, it’s a five hour drive. Doc can help her, he needs to help her. Oh my God, what if…”
“I already tried calling and I can’t reach either of them.” Morgan wrapped an arm around Sam, wiping away her own stray tear, hurting for her friends.
“Portland? I’ll make a call.” Blake turned to Morgan, dropping his head briefly, before saying, “Beck said if I ever need…”
Morgan nodded, understanding his plea before he finished his thought, “You call the O’Reilly boys to find Evie. I’ll call Beck and ask him to send the jet. They’ll be here in time… It’s Granny Lou
, she isn’t done yet.”
Sam whispered, “She can’t be…”
The End