Someone stood above her. Someone familiar. She blinked awake.
“Nolan?” Her heart began to pound and she reached for him.
Then remembered.
She tucked her hands back beneath the gauzy white hospital blanket he must have brought and spread out over her torso.
“Hey.” He knelt in front of her. “You haven’t been seen yet?”
She shook her head. “They’re swamped.”
“How are you holding up?” He tugged the blanket back and palpated her fingers, peeking through the stretchy bandage he’d applied on the bridge.
“Fair.”
“It’s twice as swollen as on the bridge. What did they give you for pain?”
Her voice caught at the softness in his. “I—I haven’t had anything.” She dipped her face, partly to avoid the compassion in his. How she hated to be weak in front of him again.
Nolan rose, looking determinedly down halls, probably for a nurse.
Mandy straightened. “They offered but I declined it.”
He inclined his head. “Now why would you go and do a silly—”
“Dr. Manchester?” Nurse Bailey approached.
Thank goodness. Saved by the Bailey.
“Yes?” Mandy stood.
Nolan stepped back but put his hand to her unaffected elbow.
Bailey motioned toward the unit. “You’re up next. Come on back.”
Nolan made motions to follow. Mandy held her hand palm up in halt position. Comically annoyed but steadfast, he looked at it like it was no barrier. When his gaze reached hers, he stopped and drew a long breath that made his chest bigger. Like it needed it. Not!
“Look Mandy, I came here to see how you were. But also, I wanted to set up a time to meet. We need to talk.”
Her hand jammed to her hip. “Not interested in discussing anything.” Knees trembling, she turned to go.
A strong hand curled around her healthy wrist. “Don’t be mule-headed.” He moved toward the room with her still in hand.
She stopped, tugged her hand free and shot him a caustic glare. “Bye, Nolan.”
His body tensed, but paused. The knot in his jaw rippled. Always a sign of frustration in Nolan. Yet rarely, if ever, had it been directed at her.
She turned to go to the room Nurse Bailey disappeared into.
“This is far from over, Mandy.” The decree floated from somewhere behind her.
She ignored him until she reached the room entrance. Then mistakenly cast a glance over her shoulder to see if he’d actually listened to her and left.
Right.
He stood, stubborn and tall, feet planted right where her words had left him. And according to the steel-plated glint in his resolute eyes he not only wasn’t going anywhere, her words may as well have fallen on deaf ears.
He wasn’t budging.
This is far from over.
Then an unspoken version of that message traveled, mesmerizingly slow and daringly potent, down the corridor from his eyes to hers. And his immovable jutting stance said exactly the same yet fractionally different:
We are far from over.
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