“How’s he doing?”
“So far, so good.”
“His fever doesn’t seem to be going down.” Dusty smoothed Zach’s hair. “He’s still so hot.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” the nurse said. “If he’s not improving by this evening, you can worry. For now, you should get some rest.”
Dusty sighed. Sleepiness tugged at her. When the nurse left, she crawled into the bed with Zach and snuggled up against him, her derriere hanging off the edge of the mattress. She breathed in his masculine aroma and tried to relax.
* * *
Evening arrived, and Zach was still burning with fever. Dusty sat in the waiting room with Laurie, Chad, and Sam. When the doctor approached, she stood up.
The doctor cleared his throat. “I’m afraid he hasn’t responded to the antibiotic treatment as hoped.”
Neither Dusty nor Laurie spoke.
“What’s the next step then?” Chad asked.
“Put him on stronger antibiotics. And we’ll culture the wound, see what grows. It’s obviously something that’s resistant to the antibiotics we’ve tried so far. The main thing is to watch for necrotizing fasciitis.”
“What’s that?” Laurie asked.
“It’s commonly referred to as the flesh-eating bacteria. It’s associated with streptococcus A, which is the bacteria that causes strep throat, but it can actually be caused by several different bacteria.”
Dusty gulped. This didn’t sound the least bit good. “I need to go to him,” she said.
“He won’t know you’re there,” the doctor said.
“I don’t care.”
“Dusty.” Sam pulled her aside. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
“What? What is it, Sam?”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you this, because you already know it. But you can’t stay with him, Dust. Not if he has some kind of highly contagious bacteria growing in that wound. Your white cell count is up. We don’t know what’s going on with it yet, but your immune system could be compromised. You could be highly susceptible to infection.”
Dusty was well aware of that fact. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to stay with him. I’m the reason he’s here in the first place. He needs me.”
“He doesn’t need you to get sick because of him.”
“But he’s sick because of me! This is all my fault, Sam. I couldn’t live with myself if I left him.”
“Come on, Sis, you know he wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
“Sam, I’ve already decided that I’m leaving once he’s well. And he will get well, damn it. But until he’s well, I need to stay.”
“You’ve decided to leave him?”
“Yeah.” She sniffed as a tear fell. “I won’t saddle him with a sick woman who can’t ever give him a family. He deserves more than that. So much more. But for now, he needs me. I… I don’t think he’ll get well unless I’m here.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re in love with him.”
“No, that’s not it.” But it was a lie. She knew it, and judging from the look on Sam’s face, he did, too. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Saying it out loud made it so final. So true. “And it’s because I love him that I’m going to leave him, but not until he’s well.”
“Even if it costs you your own health? You love him that much?”
“Yes.” Without a doubt.