I sigh. I guess all some people want to do is remember and some only want to forget.
I take her pulse again. It’s less erratic now, probably because she’s rested. She’s still a little warm, though, and still covered in sweat, so I fetch a basin of lukewarm water and a towel.
I wipe her forehead first, carefully so as not to wake her. As I proceed with gently running the towel over her cheeks, I notice for the first time that she has thick eyelashes, though they’re of a lighter hue than her hair. I realize, too, that the bridge of her nose is crooked, just slightly to the left, a detail overshadowed by the upturned tip. Her lips are full, the upper one shaped like a bow. They’re dry right now so I try to dampen them with the edge of the towel. She doesn’t stir.
I wipe her neck next, then decide to unbutton her sweater. As I push the flaps aside, my gaze rests on her chest. The front of her thin, white shirt is soaked in sweat, and I can glimpse her black sports bra through the moist fabric. I can see the peaks of her breasts poking through the layers as well. I tear my gaze away and it ends up falling on the hole near the hem of her shirt. Through the opening, I can see the start of a strip of fibrous connective tissue.
A scar.
I roll up the hem of her shirt and my eyes grow wide as I see the two-inch scar right next to her navel, too high to be the incision for a C-section. I spot a bruise higher up as well, not more than three days old.
What the hell?
I pull her shirt down and push her sleeves up so I can check her arms. One of them has a burn scar from a branding iron shaped like a skull, which makes me grimace in disgust. The other has crisscrossed scars from a blade.
My jaw clenches as I grasp her situation. She ran away from someone abusive. I’m sure of it now. She probably came here thinking no one would find this place, seeking a sanctuary for her baby. She must have planned on leaving her baby and then continuing to run, but she collapsed.
Poor girl.
She may be a woman and a mother, but right now, that’s what she looks like – a girl who’s been put through hell.
My hands curl into fists. What kind of monster could have done this to her?
A knock on the door breaks into my thoughts. I open it and find Sally outside with the baby in her arms.
“How is she?” I ask.
“Other than the fact that she was hungry and had a diaper that needed changing, I’ve found nothing wrong with her,” Sally tells me. “I’ve already changed and fed her.”
“Good.”
She peeks into the room. “How’s the mother?”
“Still unconscious,” I answer as I glance over my shoulder. “But I think she’ll be fine. It’s just exhaustion and dehydration. If she doesn’t wake soon, I’ll hook her up to a bottle of IV fluids.”
Sally nods. “So she has no injuries?”
“None,” I lie.
Something tells me I should keep my discovery a secret.
“And have you found out who she is?”
“No. She wasn’t carrying an ID.”
Sally frowns. “Well, maybe Ned can help you find out who she is. He’s outside.”
Ned? What is the deputy chief of police doing here so soon?
I close the door behind me. “I’ll talk to him. Just stay here and call me when the patient wakes up.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
I head out the front door. Ned is waiting on the porch eating a sandwich. His cap is on the bench beside him. I sit next to it.
“I thought you weren’t an early riser,” I tease him. “Or did Corinne kick you out of bed?”
He doesn’t answer because he’s busy chewing his sandwich.
I rub my chin. “Or wait. Isn’t it Angela you’re seeing this time?”
Ned frowns. “Just shut up and get me some coffee.”
I do that, only because I know he’s easier to talk to after he’s had coffee. He takes a sip as soon as I hand him the mug.
“You didn’t just come here for coffee, did you?” I ask him. “I’m pretty sure Ralph’s place is already open.”
“His coffee is more expensive.” Ned sets down the mug.
I snort. “Cheapskate.”
“Besides, he hates me now.”
“Right. I forgot he found out you slept with his sister.” I look at him. “Don’t you think maybe it’s about time to stop? Are you going to wait until your own sister hates you, too?”
He frowns. “Leave Maggie out of this.”
I say nothing.
“Besides, if I stop sleeping with everyone’s sister, daughter or cousin, I’ll shrivel up.” He sighs. “Frankly, I don’t know how you do it – living without sex. God knows there are plenty of women around here who are willing to do it with you.”