Private Partners (Doctors in Training 2)

He remembered bits and pieces—being in the ambulance, bright lights in his eyes, concerned faces leaning over him. He remembered Anne, looking afraid. He remembered her voice, her tone reassuring even though he’d had a hard time focusing on the words. He sort of remembered waking up in recovery, then drifting out again. Had he dreamed that Anne’s father had hovered above him at one point? And then Anne, again. Looking increasingly tired and strained.

He had wanted to tell her to get some rest, but he simply hadn’t had the energy. He’d slept, waking only in brief, fuzzy snatches, and she had always been there. How much time had passed? Had she slept? Was she missing classes or exams because of him? He didn’t want that.

He should have gone back to New York, he thought, closing his eyes on a wave of self-recrimination. He shouldn’t have caused even more trouble for Anne. Even though he knew it was unreasonable, he felt almost foolish for having gotten ill at such an inconvenient time. He was oddly chagrined at being so weak and vulnerable at a time when he needed to be strong for Anne.

He forced his eyelids open again, blinking a couple of times to bring the room into focus. He sensed suddenly that he wasn’t alone, and he turned his head, expecting to find Anne sitting watch over him.

When he saw who sat there, he wondered for a moment if the meds were making him hallucinate.

“So you’re awake,” Henry Easton, Jr., said unnecessarily.

“I—Yeah.” His voice sounded rusty, as if it had been days rather than hours since he’d last used it. “Why are you here?”

“Anne wouldn’t agree to get any rest until someone agreed to sit with you. Since she was almost asleep on her feet, I told her I’d take babysitting duty for a few hours.”

“She, uh—told you?”

“That you’re my son-in-law? Yes, she told me. Eventually.”

Liam tried to read Easton’s expression, finding it very difficult to do so. “You’re okay with that?”

“Let’s just say you and I have some talking to do yet. But I’ll wait until you aren’t lying flat on your back.”

Liam shifted on the bed, then grimaced when his body rebelled. “I’d appreciate that.”

“How are you feeling?”

Liam’s succinct response made the older man chuckle. “Has anyone talked to you about your condition?”

“I think so. It’s sort of fuzzy. They took out my appendix, right?”

Easton nodded. “You’ve been out of surgery for about fourteen hours. You developed peritonitis. Almost waited too late to get treatment. You were pretty sick. The antibiotics seem to be working, though, so you’ll be back on your feet in a few days. Be a few weeks before you’re completely back to normal, though. Hope you weren’t scheduled to climb any mountains or wrestle any crocodiles during the next couple of weeks.”

“I don’t wrestle crocodiles,” Liam murmured, wondering if the man had ever actually seen his show.

“Mmm. Bet right now you feel like you took one on, huh?”

“And lost,” Liam agreed with a sigh.

“Go back to sleep, if you want. I wouldn’t harm a defenseless man.”

Maybe that quip was supposed to be reassuring. Liam gave his father-in-law one wary look before letting his heavy lids fall.

“I love her, you know,” he muttered as the drugs and pain drew him toward unconsciousness.

“So do I. Why else would I be sitting here now?”

He would think about that later, Liam decided, letting the darkness take him.

His head felt a little clearer when he woke again. He still hurt, still felt as though he’d been bulldozed, but he knew immediately where he was and why when he opened his eyes.

A male nurse smiled at him as he made notes of the numbers displayed on the vital-signs monitor beside the bed. “Hi, there. I’m Steve. How do you feel?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Are you in pain? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain level?”

Liam wasn’t sure how one went about rating pain, but he made an attempt. “Four. Maybe five,” he added with a wince when he tried cautiously to shift into a more comfortable position.