Chapter 9 - The Fragile Truce Beneath the Wooden Beams
The silence on the porch lasted an agonizing ten seconds.
Nora looked down at her billionaire husband kneeling in the snow like a beggar. She saw the blood on his knuckles from the fight behind the barn, the frost clinging to his eyelashes, the complete and total absence of the arrogant, untouchable tycoon who had walked out of their penthouse three nights ago.
She looked down at Leo. The baby gave a soft, raspy cough against her chest.
"Let the doctor in," Nora said quietly to Caleb. "Only the doctor."
Five minutes later, Dr. Sarah Jenkins, Chicago’s top pediatric pulmonary specialist whom Victor had flown into Kenosha via emergency convoy, was inside Martha’s warm kitchen with her portable diagnostic kit.
Victor remained outside on the porch steps, sitting in the freezing cold, refusing to come inside the house until Nora gave him permission. Marco brought him a heavy thermal blanket; Victor waved it away. He sat in the snow, shivering violently, his eyes fixed on the illuminated kitchen window.
Inside, Dr. Jenkins gently placed her miniature stethoscope against Leo’s tiny, pale chest.
Nora stood over her, holding Mia against her shoulder, her heart pounding with terror.
"His bronchial passages are inflamed from the cold air he inhaled during the trek from the car," Dr. Jenkins explained softly, looking up at Nora with reassuring eyes. "But you saved his life, Nora. The emergency albuterol treatment you gave him using that car battery kept his airways open. His oxygen levels are at ninety-four percent. He’s stable."
Nora let out a long, ragged sob, sinking into one of Martha’s wooden kitchen chairs. Martha immediately wrapped her arms around the young mother, stroking her hair as Nora wept uncontrollably.
"And Mia?" Nora choked out.
Dr. Jenkins examined the little girl, checking her temperature and pupillary reflex. "Mia is perfect. Strong heart, clear lungs. She’s hungry, but she is completely healthy."
Dr. Jenkins packed her instruments, walked to the kitchen door, and looked out at Victor sitting motionless in the snow. She looked back at Nora.
"Nora," Dr. Jenkins said gently. "Victor hasn't slept in thirty hours. He threatened to dismantle a hospital board at four this morning to get me onto that transport truck. He’s going to get hypothermia if he stays out there."
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Nora stared at the floorboards, her jaw tightening.
"Tell him he can come into the mudroom," Nora said, her voice devoid of warmth. "He stays by the door. He doesn't touch the babies."
