I started to stand, but Marga, who was sitting next to me, pulled me back into my chair. “Leave them alone, Mom. Stay out of it. You’ll only make it worse.” I turned to look at her and saw the alarm on her face. Her eyes were on the men.
Looking back, I gasped when Hawk shoved Worth, hard. Worth staggered backward, surprise on his face that instantly changed to rage. He charged Hawk and when he did, Hawk fell backward and Liane, who was directly in their path, shifted awkwardly to get out of their way. She couldn’t move quickly enough, however, and was crushed to the ground beneath two chairs and the weight of the men thrashing on top of her.
I screamed, as did Marga. We scrambled to help Liane, but she’d been knocked unconscious. Some of the others nearby leapt up to help us, but Worth and Hawk were so enmeshed in their scuffle they didn’t even notice. Worth punched Hawk in the jaw, and as his head swiveled, he caught sight of Liane. The fight drained out of him, and he dropped to the ground instantly to avoid Worth’s attack and spun around toward her.
With Herculean strength, he tossed the chairs aside and picked her up. She was limp in his arms, and he charged with her out of the tent out to one of the waiting carts and were soon speeding down the pasture toward the house, Hawk holding Liane against his chest.
I sent Marga to get Liane’s dad and her brother, then grabbed Worth by the tie and dragged him behind me outside to another cart. We followed the ambulance with Ben, Mark, and Marga in the back seat. I drove because Worth’s head was still spinning from the encounter and too much alcohol. We arrived downtown and parked outside the emergency room. Hawk was waiting inside; they had taken Liane off to do an ultrasound for the baby. “How are they?” I asked, hugging him.
“She came conscious in the ambulance, but there’s blood coming from her. Her dress was soaked, and the EMT was trying to staunch it. They put her on an IV, and she started moaning about her stomach hurting. I’m afraid, Mom, really afraid.”
Worth stood behind me, his face ashen. His arms were outspread in helplessness. Hawk gave him one withering glance, then took Ben over to the chairs nearest the examining room to wait. There was nothing left for us to do but sit and wait as well.
What a hideous sight we must have been. Hawk and Worth were both bloodied, their jackets torn and shirts ripped open. Their eyes shot flames at one another and the vicar was busy praying. Marga was crying, Mark holding her hand, and I can only remember sitting in shock.
How could this have happened? Would it ever stop?
The doctor came out and told Hawk and Ben briefly that while the baby was still viable, there were signs of distress. Liane was hemorrhaging and had already been given blood. She was in ICU, and they were monitoring both mother and child carefully.
“We might have to take the baby. We could lose one or both of them. The blunt force on her body caused a rupture of the amniotic sac. The baby is being expelled. The only question is whether we can deliver naturally and save the mother possible further blood loss, or if we have to take it. The baby wasn’t quite in position and may be breach. It’s complicated at this point, but we will keep you posted.”
“I want to be with her,” Hawk jumped up to insist.
“Not now. She’s quite weak, and we need to keep her calm. By the looks of you, you might want to go over and register and have someone look at that cut on your forehead.”
The vicar reached out to the doctor and asked briefly, “Is there a room where we might wait privately?” The doctor pointed as he headed back down the hallway.
Something quite unexpected happened then. Ben pointed at Worth and then at Hawk and said in a firm, no-nonsense voice, “I want to talk to you two in that room. Now! Auggie, you and the twins can choose whether or not to be there, but these two and I are going to have a talk.”
We all stood immediately and headed for the private room. Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it. His face was flushed, and he was perspiring. Ben loosened his collar and wiped his face with his handkerchief. “Sit down!” he ordered.
“Now,” he began, pointing his finger at the two men, “you two are going to listen to me, and I don’t want to hear one word from either one of you. The time has come for the meek to inherit the Earth!”
Not a sound came from either man so the vicar nodded.
“My daughter is lying in a room with a curtain right now, trying to stay alive and to protect her unborn baby. She is in pain, and she is frightened. Why? Because the two of you cannot behave like adults and settle whatever the hell is the matter with you. I don’t care what’s behind it. I simply do not care about you at all. The most important people in my life are in there right now, fighting to live. I will not allow either of you to affect their chances. Look at you! Both of you covered with your own blood, not to mention hers. Your clothes are torn, and you’ve just made asses of yourselves in front of half the county. You’ve ruined the wedding of a wonderful couple, and you have two women sitting here who are both upset. Mark will be fine. He’s the only man in this room.”
I squeezed both twin’s hands and swallowed, praying that my husband and son were listening to this kind man’s words. I watched them carefully, but they were motionless, both of them staring at the wall.
“So, whatever it is between the two of you stops here. Do you hear me? It stops now!” He wiped his face with his handkerchief again and held his hand up to keep anyone from interjecting a word. “It’s evident to me that no one in this room has been properly parented. Fine. Go and seek counseling, come to church, I really don’t care. What I do care about is my daughter and grandchild; both of whom I may have to leave here without. Either way, I tell you this and swear it on the Bible. If neither one of them makes it, I will have you both arrested for murder.”
I gasped and quickly covered my mouth with my hand.
“Whatever version doesn’t matter to me — but you will stand trial, and you will go to prison. I will make certain of that. If you think your money counts and will get you off, you’re mistaken. There isn’t a jury in the world you can buy off when they hear the testimony of people who watched you batter that poor young, pregnant woman — the daughter of an aging vicar. In England, you’d hang!” He looked at both men. “Now, have I made myself perfectly clear?”
I looked at Hawk, and he was sobbing, his head in his hands. Worth was pale and looked more helpless than I’d ever seen him. He nodded at the vicar and wrapped his arms around Hawk. “He’s right, son. It stops here. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Hawk nodded, although it was barely perceptible from the shudder of his tears. But he held onto his father like a raft in a turbulent sea.