This was not good.
Sheila popped in with a dinner tray and Bri thanked her. She glanced at the clock above the bed and saw that the ice pack needed to remain another five minutes. She wondered what was taking X-ray so long. She wondered if she would be able to eat.
She grabbed the coffee first. Sheila had brought her two covered cups full. She downed them both, then took a stab at the turkey, potatoes and broccoli. The broccoli was a little soggy from being in the steam tray, but otherwise Sheila was right about it being a passable meal.
She paused to remove the ice pack from Luke’s cheek and stood for a minute, just looking down at him. The bruise was still spreading, distorting his face even more. It looked as if he was going to be eating through a straw, she thought.
That little flicker of anger that had started earlier returned, but it was not anger at him. All of it arose from seeing him laid low like this. In the years she had known Luke, he’d always been a powerhouse, always on top of things, always independent. Maybe that had been part of what had bothered her, that he had never seemed to need her in any way. It wasn’t as if she wanted him to be dependent on her, but it would still have been nice to feel needed in some way. Essential.
Wow, that was a heavy thought. She pulled back from the bed and picked up the tray again. She’d wanted to feel essential? Wasn’t that a crock. She liked her own independence and had respected his. Right?
Staring down at the tray, she wondered what was going on inside her. Last week she had yelled at him for always being gone during their marriage. Now tonight she was thinking he hadn’t made her feel important enough?
Whoa. Being around him again wasn’t going to be good for her unless she could find a way to avoid thoughts like these. At this late date, it struck her as just more rationalization, anyway. Since the relationship was over, it was pointless to invent new reasons for its failure.
Her appetite gone, she took the tray out and put it on the meal cart rack in an empty slot. Catching sight of Sheila, she asked, “Who brought Luke in? There was someone working with him?”
“Yeah. I didn’t recognize the guy.”
“Where is he now?”
“He said he had to go back and pick up tools he left because he was in such a rush to get Luke down here.”
Made sense, Bri thought. Just as she reentered the cubicle, Dr. Trent appeared. “Good news. We can wrap the leg—the break won’t need any pins. You want to wait outside? With any luck, we’ll have the cast on him before he starts to wake up.”
And then what? Bri wondered as she went to the small waiting area. He’d stay overnight here, but then what?
Gloom filled her. Her mind scrambled around, trying to find other ways to manage this, but in her heart of hearts she knew she was going to wind up taking care of him, at least until he was ready to travel.
Luke Masters was going to move back into her life.
* * *
Luke was starting to wake when they wheeled him out of the bay. Bri followed, watching him stir and groan.
“You’re sure the concussion isn’t bad?” she asked Trent again as she passed him.
“Do a neuro on him if you want. Pupils are normal and reactive. All other reflexes are fine. He’s just a little addled at the moment, but like I said, we’ll keep him under observation tonight. The more you can get him to talk or at least acknowledge you, the better.”
As if he were going to talk much with that cheekbone all swollen. He must feel as though he’d been hit by a baseball bat in the head. Never mind the pain he’d start feeling in his arm and leg.
Luke was placed in a room by himself, maybe because he’d been aggressive when he arrived and they feared he might disturb another patient. The ward nurse, Karen Bloom, told her she didn’t have to stay all night.
“You know we’ll watch him.”
“I know, Karen, but he was asking for me. It might be better if I’m here.” Exhaustion was beginning to break through her worry, though. She’d just worked a twelve-hour shift, which had now stretched to more than fifteen if she counted the time in the E.R.
“Your ex, huh?” Karen said. “Not fun.”
Bri didn’t even blink. By this time tomorrow the whole town would probably know that Luke and she were once married. This was not the place to live if you wanted to keep secrets.
“It’s hard to see him this way,” she said quietly, admitting a truth she was reluctant to face.
“I’m sure it is.” Karen patted her arm. “Time for more ice?”
Bri looked at the clock over the door. “Yeah. Thanks. I’ll get it.”
She retrieved several of the instant ice packs and returned to the room. She cracked one and placed it against his cheek, feeling an unwanted ache for him. Apart from his injuries and the pain he would endure, she knew he was going to hate being cooped up. Especially inside his own body. As he’d often joked, he was a man who said “go” and his body went. This was not going to be easy.
As she leaned over him, adjusting the ice pack, his eyes snapped open. She found herself looking into those familiar gray pools.
“Bri?”
“It’s me.”
“I see that. Where did you go? I lost you.” His voice sounded thick, his words slurred by the bruising of his cheek.
She didn’t take him seriously. Concussion often caused this kind of thing. “I’m right here now.”
“What happened? Where am I?”
She’d probably answer that question a hundred times tonight. “In the hospital. You fell and got pretty banged up. You’re going to be fine.”
His unbroken arm lifted; his hand seemed to reach for her. She hesitated, and finally slid her hand into his. She nearly winced as he squeezed. “Don’t go.”
Before she could reply, he was out of it again, but he didn’t let go of her. She tried to ease her hand away so she could sit, maybe stretch out until the next time he woke, but each time she tried, he tightened his hold.
A couple of minutes later he woke again. “Where am I? Bri?”
“I’m right here.”
“Did someone beat me up?”
“You fell. You were out on the mountain, and you fell.”
“Okay.”
His eyes closed again, and this time his grip on her hand relaxed. Sagging onto the chair, she wondered if it would even be worth folding it back into a narrow bed. It would be nice to stretch out and doze, but he was coming out of the morphine now and would wake frequently. Unless the concussion was getting worse. The thought made her shudder.
She scooted the chair closer to the bed, kept her eye on the clock for the ice pack and rested her hand on his shoulder. Maybe that contact would help him.
Karen popped in and was glad to hear he’d been talking. She noted the times, checked his pupils and told Bri everything looked good.
“Who was that?” Luke awoke again. “Who was here?”
“A nurse.” She rose and bent so he could see her without moving too much.
“You’re a nurse.”
“Right. But I’m not your nurse. Karen is.” Although it was beginning to look as if she’d be his nurse soon enough, unless he chose an