He blinked, looked at her quizzically.
“You.”
The doorbell rang. She pulled her hand free. “The doctor’s here.”
* * *
He woke up, startled, her name on his lips. There was something he must tell her, something urgent they must talk about. “Alex.” His voice was a croak, alarming him. He moved to get up. The stiffness in his arm caused him to remember.
He opened his eyes. He was lying in his own bed. The room was dark except for a small night-light that had been moved from the hallway and plugged into a wall socket in the bedroom.
“I’m here.”
She materialized at his bedside, bent over him, and laid her hand on his shoulder. While he’d been sleeping she had showered and washed her hair. She was no longer covered in his blood, and her clothes had been replaced with one of his oldest and softest T-shirts. Just like at the cabin.
“It’s time for another pain pill if you want one.”
“I’m okay.”
“Would you like some water?”
He told her no.
“Then go back to sleep.”
She adjusted the sheet over his bare chest, but when she tried to move away, he covered her hand with his, keeping it trapped against his chest. “What time is it?”
“A little after two. You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”
“Who was the doctor?”
“A friend of mine. A good friend. We can trust him.”
“You’re sure?”
“Let’s just say we’ve swapped professional favors. He strongly advised me to take you to an emergency room, but I prevailed upon him.”
“Saying what?”
“That you didn’t want to go through the rigmarole of filing a crime report.”
“He was okay with that?”
“No, because he saw Smilow and gang at my house this morning. He knows something’s amiss. But I left him no room to argue. If your wounds had warranted it, I would have insisted on the hospital myself, no matter what. But once they were cleaned, I was convinced he could treat them here. Actually, you probably got better treatment here than you might have received at the hospital. Much more quickly, too.”
“My memory of him is foggy.”
“He gave you a shot that more or less knocked you out, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember much. You suffered quite a trauma. It exhausted you, and the blood loss made you weak.” Smiling, she stroked
his forehead. “We had a heck of a time getting you up the stairs. Wish we had it on video. We could send it to America’s Funniest.”
“Will I keep my arm?”
Playing upon his joke, she replied solemnly. “He wanted to take it, but I wouldn’t let him. I threw my body across it to protect it.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Truthfully, the wound was only skin deep. Several layers of skin, but no muscle or nerve damage was done, thank God. Your leg didn’t need to be stitched. He said it would close on its own within a few days. He gave you a tetanus shot and a huge injection of antibiotics. Your butt’s going to be sore. He left some oral antibiotics and Darvocet tablets for pain, which you can take every four hours.”