by Lisa Boone
“I was always finding injured animals in the woods and trying to nurse them back to health,” she said, cleaning his arm. Next, she opened the bottle of antiseptic and poured a little on a piece of cloth. She grinned up at him. “Most of them even survived.”
“That’s comforting to know.” He lapsed into silence, breathing heavily, as she tended to his arm. By the time she was finished dressing his wound, he was shaking from head to toe.
She slowly removed the tourniquet before kneeling back down at his feet. “Now, we have to get you out of these clothes and into bed,” she said, unlacing his boots.
Jamie, his eyes barely opened, nodded before he leaned forward and toppled over.
Sarah caught him just before he hit the floor and gently laid him down.
CHAPTER TWO
Sarah picked the breakfast tray up from the kitchen counter and carried it to the bedroom, making sure not to spill anything. Once in the bedroom, she glanced over at the figure on the bed.
Jamie was sprawled out on the bed, sound asleep. She hated to wake him but he had to eat and she was getting worried about him. He had been asleep for so long. She knew after the night he had, he needed the rest, but every hour that passed by without a sound from him, scared her.
She had woken him at a half past six, but he had stayed awake only long enough to swallow some pain medicine and an antibiotic. She had swiped them from her grandfather’s medicine cabinet when she had trudged back and forth through the snow from the hunting cabin to her grandpa’s home and back again shortly before dawn. Jamie had groggily taken the medicine and then immediately fallen into a deep sleep.
Completely exhausted, she ran a hand down her face. She had slept lightly, curled up on the chair next to the bed, ready to jump up if he needed anything, but he barely stirred during the night. She had never seen anyone sleep so soundly before. The way he held himself as he slept, it was almost as if he was afraid to move or make a sound, lest someone might notice he was there.
She gazed down at his face as she set the tray down on the nightstand, noting that the deep, dark purple shadows under his eyes and the sickly pale pallor that marred his usually handsome face was still there, despite a full night’s rest. She gently pressed her hand to his forehead. “You’re still warm,” she said automatically casting her voice to a soft whisper so she would not disturb him. She smoothed his hair back off his forehead. “What am I going to do with you, Jamie Murphy?”
She turned to the window and drew back the curtains, glancing over her shoulder as Jamie groaned and then hissed in pain as he started to lift a hand to his eyes.
“No, don’t move,” she said as she returned to the bed. She tucked her hair behind her ears as she leaned forward and smiled down at him. “How do you feel?”
He smiled back up at her weakly. “Okay. Still a little tired,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than usual. His smile fell as his gaze moved around the room. “Where’s the rifle?”
She gestured to the wardrobe across from the bed. “I put everything in there.” She picked up the breakfast tray and held it up for him to see. “I have something for you. I thought you could use a good breakfast.”
Gingerly, he sat up and leaned against the headboard as she placed the tray over his lap. “Eggs, bacon, orange juice and toast,” she said sitting down next to him. “Do you like omelets? I’ll make you one tomorrow morning. I make the best omelets.”
“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“Oh no, Jamie Murphy, you saved my life last night.” A shaft of light from the window landed on his cheek highlighting a bruise she hadn’t noticed before. She gently pressed her hand to it. “I’ll never forget it. I owe you.”
He leaned into her touch, his eyes drifting shut as she continued caressing his cheek. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“A Love always repays her debts. I’m never letting you go.” Her mouth snapped shut as his eyes popped open and a guarded look leapt into them. She laughed nervously as she withdrew her hand. “I’m just joking, but I do owe you.”
He looked at her curiously for a moment. “The detective that your sister hired. Did he talk to you about me?”
“Ethan?” Sarah shook her head. “No, nothing.”
“And he didn’t say anything about my past?” he asked with surprise and doubt coloring his voice.
“No, not a word,” she said, feeling a pang of guilt as dropped her gaze from his. While technically not a lie, she knew what she said wasn’t exactly the truth either. She wasn’t ready to face his past yet and from the looks of him, neither was he. She pushed back a lock of his hair. “Tomorrow, why don’t we—”
He reached up and caught her hand in his. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he dropped her hand. After leaning back as far as he could and putting some distance between them, he made a dismissive wave with his hand. “I’ll be gone tomorrow.” He turned his attention to the tray. “Where did you get this stuff?”
Disappointment flooded through her. She shook it off and smiled. “The house. I ran over there while you were sleeping and got us some supplies.”
He took a sip of orange juice and frowned, his jaw tightening. “Are the police still here?”
“They left hours ago.”
He visibly relaxed. “I’m surprised they didn’t find me here.” He gestured to the window with his fork. “It’s not like this cabin’s very far from the house. I left a trail of blood.”
“I took care of it.”
He looked at her in surprise. “How?”
“The snow covered most of it and I think I did a good job of covering the rest before they made their way here.”
He froze with his fork half way up to his mouth and stared at her.
“They came by around three o’clock in the morning.” She made a face. “You were out cold.”
“What happened?”
“They knocked on the door. I answered and I told him I didn’t see anything.”
He looked doubtful. “Surely they wanted to talk to you about everything that you went through.”
“And they did. We had a nice long conversation right in the living room. I told them everything that happened and then they told me that when the roads cleared that I should come by the station to give my statement.” She gestured to the food on the tray as he took a bite. “How does it taste?” She grimaced. “I may have burnt the toast a little.”
“No, it’s delicious. Thank you.” He pushed the tray away. “So, what did the cops say about me?”
“Nothing. I told him you were here earlier in the night and that you left, oh, long before Madison and I were attacked.”
“What did your sister say to them about me?”
“The same.”
“They have to wonder who shot the psycho.”
“They do and they asked us, but we don’t actually know who shot him. No one ever saw you do it and Madison hates to speculate without more information.” She frowned. “I don’t make a habit of lying to the police, but I figured since I got you into this mess, the least I could do was help get you out of it.”
“And Madison didn’t mention me to the police at all?”
“I called her after you passed out. Luckily, I got to her before she said anything about you.” Sarah plucked a loose thread in the quilt, her gaze drifting down. “She said as long as they didn’t ask any direct questions about you, she wouldn’t say anything.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would she do that for me? I didn’t get the impression that she likes me very much.”
“That’s only because she doesn’t know you and for a while, she thought you might have been the one stalking her. Now that she knows the truth, she…” Sarah glanced up trying to find a way to characterize her sister’s feelings of Jamie so as not to hurt his feelings.
“She?” he prompted.
“She … now knows you’re not the one who was after her,” she said diplomatically.
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br /> “Uh huh. She still doesn’t sound like she’s a fan.”
“That’ll change once she gets to know you.” She patted his leg. “See, everything’s fine. You’re not in any trouble.”
“Not until they sit her down and talk to her.” He lifted the tray on his lap with one hand and handed it back to her.
“Alex had a lot of enemies. Anyone could’ve shot him.”
“Yeah, but I was the one who actually did it.” He motioned for her to get up.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, reluctantly standing up as his knees pushed against her hip. “You need to rest.”
“I need to get cleaned up,” he said, sliding to the side of the bed.
“I picked up a toothbrush and some other items while I was over at the house. Several in fact.” She set the tray down on the dresser. “My granddad buys in bulk now. You can have your choice in colors. You should see the pantry. We could live out here for months and never run out of supplies. Do you like macaroni and cheese? If I didn’t know better, I’d say he won some sort of contest.”
Jamie started to slide his legs off the bed but stopped suddenly and looked down at his lap. He lifted the covers up and looked underneath. “Where are my clothes?” he asked, glancing back at her.
She felt her skin grow warm under his stare. She gestured to the door. “Drying.” Her blush deepened as he continued to stare at her. “You had been lying out in the snow for God knows how long. I had to take them off to make sure you didn’t…”
He lifted an eyebrow expectantly.
“Have frostbite anywhere,” she ended quietly suddenly unable to look at him. She lifted her gaze up to the ceiling as he stood. “Besides, I couldn’t just let you lie there in wet clothes. You’d catch your death from pneumonia.”
He moved closer to her, trying to catch her eye. “I had on layers. Only my outer clothes had gotten wet,” he said in amusement as he rearranged the quilt around his shoulders.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that until I checked?”
His smile turned into a grin as he finally captured her gaze. “See anything you like?” He laughed as the blush on her face deepened.
Her mouth fell open. “I’ll have you know I did not look. I kept my eyes tightly shut.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Then how would you have known if I had frostbite anywhere?”
She opened and shut her mouth for a moment as the grin returned to his face.
“You’re a horrible liar,” he said as he walked to the bathroom.
“I should have let you freeze to death,” she called out as the door shut behind him. “Ingrate,” she muttered as she picked the tray up and carried it back into the kitchen. By the time she had everything cleaned up, Jamie had dressed and returned to the living room.
He walked to the windows, closing the drapes one by one and locking the doors. “What time is it?”
“About noon. What are you doing?” she asked as he began pacing about the room.
“I need to get out of here. I ditched my car about a mile back. Hopefully, the police haven’t found it.”
“Jamie,” she said gently, “you’re in no shape to hike a mile through these woods. You need to sit down and rest.”
“I need to get out of here before the cops come back.” His foot caught on the threadbare rug and he had to catch himself to keep from falling. He stumbled to the couch for a moment before pushing off and resuming his pacing. A few seconds later, the coughing that had been plaguing him on and off for the last few weeks returned.
“Please sit down. I really do think you need to see a doctor.” She stepped up to him, catching him by his waist as he stumbled again. “I have an idea,” she said holding him tight. “The roads are still pretty bad but my granddad’s buddy lives a half-mile from here. He has a truck that could probably get us into town sometime tomorrow.”
“Us?” Jamie gently cupped her face. “Sarah, you’ve done more than enough for me.”
She lifted her hands and placed them over his. “But I want to do more for you.”
“Baby doll, I keep telling you it’s not your fault. You have no reason to feel guilty about this. You paid me to watch after you and that’s what I did. Job’s done.”
“I’m not doing this because I feel guilty, Jamie. I’m doing this because I care—”
He slipped his hands out from underneath her hand and stepped around her. “If you want to help me, then…” He paused for a moment as he looked around the little cabin. “Then call my friend Brian.”
“Brian?” She blinked in surprise. She had known Jamie for more than six months and this was the first time she could remember him mentioning a friend. “Brian who?”
“Shaw. Brian Shaw. He’s a doctor. He just moved here a week or two ago.” He dropped into the chair and pressed a shaking hand against his eyes. “I don’t know his number but I think he’s supposed to be working at the Good Samaritan Hospital in Lexington. I don’t know if he’s started yet, but maybe they can get a message to him. When you get hold of him, tell him Jamie needs his help and how to find me. Don’t tell him any more than that.”
“Do you think he’d come with the roads so bad?”
“He’ll come.” Jamie dropped his hand from his face. “Eventually. Maybe. If he refuses, tell him that I’m going to tell Kristen and Nathan the truth about Robin.” He snorted. “That should get him here.”
Sarah frowned. “Kristen and Nathan? You mean the owners of the pub?” When he didn’t answer, her frown deepened. “Who’s Robin?”
Jamie made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Just get hold of Brian,” he said closing his eyes. “He’ll patch me up and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Jamie—”
He lifted his head off the cushion and looked at her sadly. “Please, Sarah. Please get Brian here. The sooner he gets here; the sooner I can get out of here.”
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. She turned away so he wouldn’t see. “I’ll hurry over to the house and call the hospital from there.” She pulled on her coat and reached for the door. “After all, I wouldn’t want to keep you here any longer than necessary,” she said before slamming the door shut behind her.
CHAPTER THREE
The rest of the afternoon passed rather slowly, as Sarah tried to reach Brian Shaw, and finally succeeding just before the sun set.
It was a strange conversation, she thought after she had hung up. At first, the doctor pretended not to know Jamie. Even when she explained that he was hurt and needed help, Dr. Brian Shaw seemed strangely distant. Wary it seemed. It was only when she told him what Jamie was going to say to Kristen and Nathan that he suddenly remembered his friend and promised he’d come as soon as possible.
Sarah hurried back to the cabin only to find Jamie asleep on the couch, his forehead still warm and he was moaning softly in his sleep. He awoke as she pressed a cold washcloth to his face, taking it from her hand, and telling her to stop worrying about him. With nothing else to do, she made dinner while Jamie went back to pacing around the room.
They spoke briefly over a couple of bowls of chicken soup, tiptoeing around each other like a couple of strangers, keeping the conversation mainly to safe topics such as the weather and the roads outside. After a while, they lapsed into silence. Jamie seemed to sense she was upset, but seemed confused as to why, and Sarah for her part was just too tired to talk any longer.
As soon as she had finished eating and she had changed into something more comfortable, she laid her head on the table, intending only to rest her eyes for a moment, but she promptly fell asleep.
Sometime later, she awoke with a start, lifted her head off the table and blearily looked around the cabin, her gaze finding the clock above the fireplace, certain that it had to have been after midnight.
Rubbing her eyes, she let out a little groan of despair. It wasn’t even nine yet. This night was never going to end, she thought laying her chin on her arms.
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She felt as if she had been awake for days. Probably have, she thought trying to remember when was the last time she had slept a full eight hours. She had been so tired that she had changed into her pink and white striped silk pajamas as soon as she finished eating. She would have gone to bed then, but she didn’t want to leave Jamie alone until his friend arrived.
Not that Jamie needed her. The man was frustratingly adept at taking care of himself and seemed steadfastly determined not to be a burden to her, despite the fact she was more than ready and willing to help.
She glanced over at him, standing by the window, staring outside with the quilt wrapped around his shoulders.
“Is your friend here yet?” she asked through a yawn.
“No.” He moved the curtain back further. “Are you sure you told him—”
“I told him exactly what you said and he said he had a couple more patients to see but he’d come as soon as he could.”
She watched as Jamie pressed his forehead against the cold glass.
“Jamie, let me take you to the hospital. The police aren’t looking for you. There’s nothing to fear.”
“It’s too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s snowing again. Too dangerous to get out on those roads.” He pushed himself off the window. “I thought Brian would have been here by now.”
“Maybe he had to turn back. Do you want me to call him?”
“No,” he said, resuming his pacing.
She frowned at him. “I wish you’d wear that sling I made for you.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need it.”
“At least sit down before you fall down,” she said, exhaustion and worry making her tone sharper than usual.
He looked at her in surprise for a moment before sliding into the chair across from her.
She softened her tone. “You’ve barely touched your dinner,” she said, staring down at the bowl of chicken soup in front of him. “I could make some Shepard’s pie. I have Harry’s recipe,” she said, referring to the old cook at the pub where she worked.