Stepping into the empty hospital elevator, Kerri Walton pressed the fourth-floor Intensive Care Unit button and leaned wearily against the plastic paneled wall.
"Hold the elevator," a man shouted as he ran across the dim and deserted waiting room toward her.
Kerri's arm shot out to catch the door. The man darted in and she released the doors to allow them to close.
"Thanks," he said breathlessly. He glanced at the control panel showing a light on four, and didn't depress any other button. The elevator lurched upward.
Back home in Cleveland, Kerri never would have caught the door, knowing she would be alone with a strange man in an elevator at two in the morning. Not having lived in this small Illinois town for more than a few days visit in over a decade, she was probably foolish to think she would be any safer here.
But strangely, she didn't feel threatened by him. Wondering why she felt no fear, she couldn't help gazing at the tall man as he leaned back against the far wall, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
Dressed in somber clothes and coat, he had a sprinkling of gray softening his dark hair at his temples. The vein in his neck pulsed visibly above his collarless shirt. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His lips parted again as he inhaled deeply to bring his breathing under control. He must have run farther than across the waiting room.
The elevator doors lurched open on four. Kerri quickly looked away before he caught her staring at him, and headed for the nurses' station. The man walked up to stand beside her.
A nurse rose behind the high counter and spoke to him first. "I'm glad you came so quickly," she said in a caring tone. "Your father has taken a turn for the worse. The doctor on call is in with him now."
)
