Imagine That

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by Kristin Wallace


  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She lurched up from the table. “Listen, I have to go.”

  He rose from his chair. “Em… I’ll walk you back.”

  “No. I just need — it’s too much right now.”

  Emily fled up the street before Nate could move. He watched her run away and fought the urge to take off after her. And wondered how she’d ever recover from the deep wound carved there by people who should have taken care of her.

  Nate hoped she’d find a way, except he feared the healing would mean the end of her journey. And her time in Covington Falls.

  Chapter Twenty

  Afternoon sun beat down on Emily’s back like a thousand hot pokers, baking the skin underneath her shirt. She sat up on her heels and swiped an arm across her forehead. The temperature must have risen another ten degrees while she’d been out here. Reaching for the thermos by her knee, she took several gulps of cold water.

  Summer in Georgia was no time for gardening. Who decided to garden in the middle of a heat wave?

  Oh yeah, Aurora Johnston. Of course, Madam was not actually doing any of the gardening. Although, pulling weeds probably didn’t constitute gardening so much as getting dirty and ripping one’s fingernails to shreds. Her Highness wanted the flower beds cleared, though, and it was off with Emily’s head if she refused.

  If not for the scalding heat, Emily might not have minded the task. Ripping up the earth helped clear her head. She’d barely made it back to her car yesterday before breaking down. She’d cried for hours, until her eyes swelled shut and her chest ached as if bruised.

  How could she still feel so devastated? A lot of time had gone by. She should be done with tears and angst. Julia’s wedding had ripped open the scab again, leaving even more hurt, so obviously the months of travel had done nothing to help Emily solve the problem of her imagination.

  Her eyes burned with a mixture of sweat and tears.

  “Stop it, Emily Jane.”

  She was so tired of crying and feeling sorry for herself. If Browmenia from Sword of the Dark was half as pathetic as the woman who’d created her, it was no wonder readers had hated her.

  Emily gripped a chunk of weeds and yanked the stubborn growth with enough force to topple her over onto her butt. She pounded the ground and contemplated pitching a fit like a two year old denied a piece of candy.

  Something pinched her hand and she yelped again. A big, hairy, brown, gross spider had taken up residence on her thumb. Shrieking, Emily shook her hand to dislodge the creature. She hated spiders. Creepy, nasty, evil-looking things. Anything with more than four legs had to be suspect.

  She dumped water on her hand to ease the sting. Watch, with her luck, Harry-Eight-Legs would turn out to be poisonous.

  “If I wind up in the hospital with gangrene, I’m quitting.”

  She went back to clearing the plot of garden, determined to finish the job. Wouldn’t Nate laugh to know she couldn’t even handle pulling weeds?

  Warmth spread through her. He’d been so sweet yesterday. She’d never told anyone about Colin. Never had anyone to tell. She couldn’t talk to her family. Not when she was supposed to be over the whole incident by now. She had to admit it was nice having someone on her side, to defend her. Her skin heated until her whole body tingled and sweat broke out all over.

  Come to think of it, the tingling seemed more centered in her arm and especially her hand.

  A hand that had swelled to twice its normal size in just a few minutes.

  She touched her thumb and gasped at the intense heat. The area had grown inflamed, and she could no longer make a fist.

  Bile rose in her throat, and a wave of dizziness struck. Good grief, was she dying? Did Georgia have killer spiders? Why hadn’t anyone mentioned marauding arachnids in the area? She stood and swayed on her feet. Were her nerves being affected already? How much longer did she have? Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on making it to the house.

  She ran into the living room, where old lady Johnston was ensconced in her chair reading a magazine. “Aurora! Aurora, you have to help me!”

  The elderly woman didn’t react to the edge of panic in Emily’s voice. “What are you screaming about now?”

  “A spider bit me. I’ve been poisoned.”

  “Poisoned? Don’t be ridiculous. What kind of spider was it?”

  “How should I know? It was brown and hairy and had eight legs. My arm is all swelled up, and I feel sick. I think my throat is closing. I have to go.”

  Aurora rose from her chair. “For heaven’s sake, you can’t drive. You’ll run off the road.” She picked up her bell and shook it. “Hortense! Come here immediately!”

  The housekeeper huffed into the room. “What’s going on, Miz Johnston? You sick?”

  “No, but Emily is. She’s been bitten by a spider.”

  “Hope it wasn’t a brown recluse,” Hortense said, crossing herself.

  Emily moaned as another wave of dizziness hit. “Why not?”

  “Them spiders can be deadly.”

  “Deadly! Sugar cookies! All I wanted was something to do to pass the time and make a few extra dollars. Now I’m gonna die from pulling dead grass.”

  The housekeeper clicked her tongue. “Weeds aren’t grass, and they aren’t dead.”

  Aurora banged her cane against the floor. “Hortense… focus! I need you to drive Emily to the ER. She can’t get behind the wheel in her condition.”

  “Oh, right, ma’am. Come on, Miss Emily. Let’s get you to the doctors before it’s too late.”

  Emily shuddered. “Too late!”

  “Hortense, stop being so melodramatic,” Aurora said. “You’ll scare Emily to death from your caterwauling before any silly spider can do away with her. Go now!”

  Despite Hortense’s bum knees, the woman drove like a NASCAR driver in the last lap of the Indy 500. Emily clung to the door handle, wondering if she’d die from a spider bite or a car crash. Either one would make a terrific headline.

  Failed Child Author Bites the Big One in 1982 Cadillac Deville. Cause of Death: Sheer Stupidity.

  Hortense came to a screeching halt in front of the ER and jumped out of the car. “Help her!” she screamed. “She’s been bitten by a deadly spider. She’s dying.”

  Emily hauled herself out of the vehicle using her good arm. “Can we hold off pronouncing a death sentence just yet, please?”

  Hortense wrapped an arm around Emily and half dragged, half carried her into the waiting room. Emily concluded the whole knee complaint had to be a fake so Hortense could get out of cleaning Aurora’s house.

  “Will someone help this lady?” Hortense cried. “She’s a world-famous author. Her hand looks like a balloon. She could lose her whole arm!”

  “Please stop lopping off my body parts,” Emily said. “I knew I should have driven myself.”

  “Em?”

  A burst of hysterical laughter bubbled up. Of course Nate was here.

  He ambled over with his usual confident stride. “What have you done now?”

  “I was pulling weeds—”

  “She’s been bitten by a brown recluse,” Hortense broke in. “Miss Emily’s gonna die any second if she doesn’t see the doctor right now.”

  Nate’s lips trembled as he tried not to laugh. “That’s pretty rare, Hortense. They don’t even come out in the daytime.”

  “Well, just look at it,” Hortense said, shoving Emily’s hand under his nose. “Does that look normal to you?”

  Agony shot up Emily’s arm, and a strange buzzing started in her ear. The world started to go dark. “Guys, I think I need to sit…”

  “Emily!”

  The next thing she knew, a bright light was shining in her eyes. She groaned.

  “That’s good,” a deep, male voice said. “Come on back, Miss Sinclair. Time to wake up.”

  She peeled her lids open. A nice, older gentleman stood over her. He wore a lab coat, so she figured he had to be a medical person of some sort. Unless everyo
ne in the afterlife was a doctor.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “I’m Doctor Gentry, and you’re still in the hospital.” He pointed back behind her. “Nathan over there carried you back after you passed out.”

  She swiveled her head around and spotted Nate waiting in the hallway. Before she could think about the wisdom of the act, she held out her hand. He pushed away from wall and came forward.

  He leaned down and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

  She shivered as his fingers brushed across her neck.

  “Miss Emily!” Hortense cried as she pushed into the room. “You’re not dead!”

  “Hortense, you’re going to work yourself into a heart attack if you don’t calm down,” Dr. Gentry said. “I need both of you to leave so I can examine my patient.”

  Nate squeezed her hand. “Talk to you later,” he said, before taking Hortense by the elbow and escorting her from the room.

  Emily’s gaze never left doctor. “Okay, Doc, tell me the truth. Am I going to die?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

  “Are you sure? My hand really hurts.”

  “Do you remember what the spider looked like?” the doctor asked as he picked up her hand and felt around the area where she’d been bitten. “Any unique markings?”

  “I was too busy flinging it off to pay attention to unique markings. It didn’t have a skull-and-crossbones stamped across its back, in any case.”

  “No?” The doctor smiled, and laugh lines appeared around his twinkling eyes. “God should have been more specific about identifying deadly spiders.”

  Emily shuddered. “Please don’t say deadly.”

  “Right.” Dr. Gentry probed the wound again, making her wince. “Sorry. You’ve got some swelling and obvious tenderness. No poison though.”

  “Hortense said something about a brown recluse?”

  “Oh, you’d be a lot worse off if you’d been bitten by one of those. I think you had an allergic reaction. You might have been in some trouble if you’d waited to come in. Some people think they can ride out the discomfort after a bite. Put some antiseptic on it and you’re good, but spider bites can become infected and cause all sorts of problems.”

  “But the dizziness and the fever? I swear I thought my heart might stop.”

  “Plain old panic, no doubt caused by Hortense’s hysteria. No, you should be all right. I’ll have the nurse clean this up, and I’ll write you a prescription for the pain, if you need it. I’d like to see you in a week, but if the swelling gets worse I want you to come back.”

  “Okay.”

  When the nurse finished with her, Emily walked out to the waiting room, but she didn’t see the broad shoulders and gray eyes she wanted. He’d left then. She swallowed her disappointment, even as she told herself to get over it. So what if Nate hadn’t waited? He was a busy man.

  Still, he could have waited a few minutes.

  “Miss Emily, there you are!”

  Hortense was still here at least.

  “Hi,” Emily said.

  “Oh, child, you surely did give us a scare. That nice young man was near frantic when you dropped like you did. Carried you right into the exam room, bellowing somethin’ fierce.”

  “He did?”

  “Oh, yes. Now me, I wouldn’t mind a man like Nate Cooper carrying me about. You’ve got yourself a nice beau there.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Hortense stopped. “No? Well, I still say he’s sweet on you. Lucky girl.”

  They picked up Emily’s prescription at the hospital pharmacy, and then she waited while Hortense went to fetch the car. Once ensconced in the passenger seat, Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes, exhausted from the day’s drama.

  Back at the house, Hortense helped Emily inside.

  Aurora was pacing in the foyer. “It’s about time. How long could one spider bite take, I ask you?”

  “Miss Emily went uncurious,” Hortense said.

  Bemusement stopped Aurora’s tirade. “She what?”

  “Unconscious,” Emily corrected. “I passed out in the ER.”

  Aurora took a breath. “Oh. What about the bite?”

  “Just a bad reaction,” Emily said. “Not poisonous.”

  “I told you.”

  “Yes, you did. Listen, if you don’t mind I’d like to go home now. I’m wiped out.”

  For once, Aurora didn’t argue. In fact, she softened enough to ask. “Will you be all right driving yourself?”

  Hortense stepped forward. “I’ll be happy to take you—”

  “No!” Emily blurted out, thinking of the death defying trip to the ER. Hortense frowned as hurt clouded her brown eyes, and Emily backpedaled. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to take you away from your duties any longer. I can manage.”

  ****

  Nate waited until his mother had settled into bed before running upstairs. He’d tried to get her to eat, but as usual the treatment made her too sick to keep anything down. He managed to get her to swallow a little broth and some water. Since she was sleeping soundly, he needed to take care of something before he could settle down for the night.

  He went to his brother’s room and cracked open the door. “I have to go out for a while. Listen for Mom, all right? I’ve got my cell on if you need me.”

  Zach sat up in bed. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  He drove through the darkness, wondering what on earth he was doing. He should not be going anywhere near Emily Sinclair right now. Not when the image of her fainting still burned in his brain. He’d almost missed catching her, but thank goodness instinct had kicked in just in time. It had seemed to take forever for the doctor to appear and take over. The wait in the hall had been the longest he’d ever endured in his life. When she finally opened her eyes and spoke he’d gone a little lightheaded himself. Then she’d reached for him. His chest had swelled, like he was a soldier being welcomed home from battle.

  So, yeah, he shouldn’t be heading over to see her, but nothing would keep him from going.

  He parked in Grace’s driveway and sat in the car. If he were smart, he’d turn around and hightail it back home. Of course, no one had ever accused him of being smart. The porch light flipped on, and the front door opened. Grace stepped out. Well, at least there was no question about staying now. Sure would look strange for him to race off with her standing there.

  It was the excuse he needed anyway. He unfolded his body from the seat and slammed the door, wincing as the resulting bang echoed down the quiet street.

  Grace’s confused expression relaxed into a smile. “Nathan, good evening. I didn’t recognize your truck.”

  “Evening, Mrs. Graham. Recovered from the wedding yet?”

  “Not in the least. Seth and Julia called to tell us they arrived safely on their honeymoon.” She laughed. “I don’t expect to hear from them again until they’re home.”

  “Good for them. They looked happy.”

  Grace walked down the steps and approached his truck. “I think they will be. What about you? Are you doing all right? It breaks my heart when I think of what’s happening with your poor mother, and to you and your brother.”

  Nate dipped his head. “We’re getting by.”

  Grace seemed to sense he didn’t want to discuss his mother’s health because she backed off. “What brings you here anyway?”

  “I came to check on Emily. I know she’s been living above your garage. I ran into her at the hospital today, but I was with my mother so I didn’t get a chance to see her again. Wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  Grace smiled. “Oh, how nice of you. I’m glad she has a friend to check on her. I brought her some soup earlier, and she seemed fine, if a little worn out. Go on back.”

  “Thank you.” He stepped around her. “You have a good night, ma’am.”

  “You too. And good luck.”

 
; He wheeled around. “Good luck?”

  She pointed in the direction of the apartment. “With Emily.”

  Could she see him blushing in the dark? “Ma’am, I’m only looking after a friend, like you said.”

  “You have to start somewhere, right?” She gifted him with a gentle, knowing smile. “Go on now.”

  Start somewhere? No, he wasn’t looking to start anything. He only needed to assure himself Emily hadn’t done more harm to herself. She was on her own, and he felt almost responsible for her after saving her bacon so many times.

  Yeah, by now he had an investment in Emily Sinclair. So, he’d check in and then leave. Be back home before he could get into any trouble.

  Good plan.

  “Well, if isn’t my knight errant.”

  The soft voice had come from over his shoulder. He paused and peered into the shadows. Finally, he spotted a dark figure huddled on the porch swing.

  He changed course and headed toward the house. “What are you doing down here?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Emily said. “The better question is what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to check on you,” Nate said, resting his arms on top of the railing.

  “The doctor tells me I’ll live. Turns out killer spiders are quite rare in Covington Falls.”

  “Good. How’s your hand?”

  “Hurts like he—” She stopped. “It hurts. Still swollen, too. Are you going to stand over there the whole time?”

  “I think it would be best.”

  “Why?” The breathy reply made Nate’s chest tighten, and he fought the overwhelming urge to vault over the railing and—

  Man, had coming here ever been a bad idea.

  “I don’t trust myself to get too close tonight,” he said. “Seeing you drop like a stone right in front of my eyes shook me up.”

  “You were upset?” She made a sound of derision. “Seemed like you couldn’t bolt fast enough.”

  “Huh?” Emily was giving him attitude? What had he done?

  “You didn’t stay to make sure I hadn’t died or gone into a coma,” Emily said. “You left me there with Hortense.”

 

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