Such a contrast to his usual demeanor, Beth thought, feeling oddly guilty. He was almost unrecognizable. The Delano brothers had stripped his wet clothes off after lugging him to his bedroom while she’d run to get Anne, but they hadn’t bothered to dry Ralph before covering him with a sheet. A wet patch haloed his head on the pillow, and half of his red hair stuck out in greasy spikes, while the other half was plastered to his pale freckled skull.
The Delanos had laid him at a crooked angle on the mattress, too, Beth noticed. She kept wanting to straighten him out, as if doing so would straighten out this whole entire mess.
She watched Anne examine the puncture wound in Ralph’s shoulder. The creases in the nurse’s forehead deepened as she frowned at the tiny red mark, then glanced at Beth.
“You say you accidentally shot him while he was teaching you to use the dart gun?” she asked—for at least the third time.
“Um-hmm.”
“And he acquired the bruises on his chest and neck when he fell?”
Beth nodded, still avoiding the older woman’s eyes. She hated to lie to Anne. Over the years, the nurse had become more of an adopted aunt rather than simply her father’s caretaker and, along with Captain McDugald, was one of the few people Beth considered a friend. Beth knew that Anne’s snowy white hair, plump figure, and absentminded expression hid a very keen mind and equally kind heart.
Yet for some reason, keeping the merman a secret seemed even more important now than before he’d attacked Ralph. Perhaps because a normal merman was bad enough. A savage one was worse.
“Those don’t look like bruises he’d get from a fall,” Anne commented.
“He hit the edge of the platform after I shot him,” Beth explained, trying to make her story a little more believable. Conscious that the other woman was watching her intently, she busied herself by pulling the sheet up higher over Ralph’s milk-white chest. “But you think he’s going to be all right?”
The nurse nodded. “He should be—barring any unforeseen complications,” she added with characteristic caution. “He might have cracked a rib or two—without X rays I can’t tell. He’ll certainly want to take it easy for a week or so. But he’s young, healthy. All he really needs to do right now is sleep it off.” She turned away to repack her equipment in a small, brown case.
Beth gave a sigh of relief. If Anne said that Ralph was going to be all right, then she had no doubts he would.
The merman, however, was another story. A small frown puckered Beth’s brow as she thought about the wound on his shoulder. “Anne…”
“Yes?”
“What would be the best way to treat a gash—say, from a piece of coral or even maybe a piece of wood or steel?”
Anne’s gaze sharpened as she turned to scan Beth up and down. “Are you hurt?” she asked bluntly.
“No.”
“Then who is?”
“No one exactly,” Beth said, waving her hand in a vague gesture. “I was speaking hypothetically.”
“I see.” Anne raised her white brows questioningly. “And is this hypothetical gash infected? Does it need stitches?”
“I’m not sure—that is, I wouldn’t think so.” Good grief, Beth thought. She hoped not. “How would a person tell?”
“It needs stitches if that’s the best or only way to stop the bleeding.”
Beth gnawed on her lower lip, unsure if the merman’s wound had still been bleeding or not. “And if the bleeding has stopped?” she finally asked, hoping for the best.
“Then I’d possibly still administer antibiotics—and a tetanus shot wouldn’t hurt either.”
Beth nodded. Antibiotics in a pill form might be possible to get the merman to eat, but stitches or a tetanus shot had her stumped. She’d administered shots dozens of times at the children’s care facility where Anne had persuaded her to donate time while in college, but giving one to the merman, well, good luck with that.
She was pondering the problem, when Anne interrupted her thoughts.
“Someone should stay with him until he wakes up.” Anne snapped her medical kit shut with a decisive click, then looked back down at Ralph, who’d begun snoring loudly. “And I need to get back to your father.”
Beth nodded. “I’ll stay. Just give me a minute to change. Oh, and Anne— You won’t mention anything to Dad or the captain about Ralph’s accident, will you?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” the nurse told her. “Frankly, I don’t see a need to get Carl all worked up over it when Ralph will be just fine, and the captain isn’t too fond of the young man as it is. He’ll probably find a way to hold this against him for some reason.”
“Thanks.” Beth gave her a grateful smile, then left the room. She’d go change her clothes—their clammy dampness was becoming more uncomfortable by the second—then she’d talk to the Delanos, she decided. They could take care of the merman, while she stayed with Ralph.
It was a good plan. Except the Delanos wouldn’t have any part of it.
“The pump and filtering device run just fine on their own. We’re not going near that fish freak again,” Dougie told her, spitting on the deck to emphasize his decision. Big Mike did, too, then smiled at her, his head bobbing in benign agreement with his brother’s decree.
“Who knows when he’ll grab one of us? We take our orders from Lesborn, not your father—or you,” Dougie added, “and since Lesborn’s out of commission…” He shrugged.
Beth looked from one to the other, seeing the fear beneath the sullen determination on Dougie’s face and the bewilderment on Big Mike’s. She straightened her shoulders. “Fine. You two take care of Ralph,” she said decisively. “I’ll take care of the merman.”
Night had fallen by the time Beth returned to the hold. She’d settled the grumbling Delanos in with Ralph—ignoring Anne’s look of surprise—then changed into a dress and had dinner as usual with her father, whose joyful expression and expansive plans about his “fantastic find” assured her he had no idea at all of what had transpired that day.
But as soon as the meal was finished, she slipped away, changing once again—this time into black shorts and a gray shirt. The dark clothing would help serve as camouflage, she thought, to prevent anyone noticing her going into the hold at such an unusual hour. And indeed, no one appeared to notice her as she hurried across the deck to the door.
After she unlocked it, she glanced carefully around, then slipped into the room, letting the door close quietly behind her. She paused, taking the time to twist the lock from inside. No way did she want anyone to come in unexpectedly and discover the merman. She had enough to worry about without that.
She started down the stairs, keeping a steadying hand on the railing. The room was darker, more shadowy, than it had been earlier. Only a dark patch of sky was visible through the porthole. The lights along the wall were still on, though, and the powerful filtering pump hummed steadily. With all the uproar over Ralph, neither she nor the Delanos had remembered to dim the lights before leaving the room, Beth realized. They’d all been too upset—and just plain frightened.
She shuddered, remembering Ralph struggling in the merman’s grip. Clutching the bag of medical supplies she’d “borrowed” from Anne a little tighter, she pushed the memory away and forced herself to continue her descent. Halfway down the staircase, she paused to look over at the tank. For once, the merman wasn’t swimming around. For a few seconds, she couldn’t even see him. He had to be in there somewhere, of course, but the surface of