Page 42

I sucked in a breath, tensing. Cal glanced up briefly before returning to the infection. “This is gnarly. What did you do to it?”

“I uh,” I swallowed convulsively, pressing my hands into the couch to support my weight like that might take some of the pressure off my wound. “I might have… poked it. With tweezers, last night.”

Cal’s green eyes hooded with annoyance. “Seriously?”

“I was trying to fix it,” I said breathlessly.

He reached over and grabbed a green medical sheet. With a snap, he unfolded it, and then with the utmost care, he shimmied it under my knee and over his lap. “Well, I’ll do what I can here. But if I can’t get it all out, you’re going to the hospital. Deal?”

“Yeah,” I said thinly. My stomach was roiling around like a tempestuous sea, and I worried that I’d add to my ignominy by barfing all over him.

Cal gave me another look. “You okay? I haven’t actually done anything yet.”

“I get,” I swallowed again. “I get pukey.”

Understanding lit his features. “Lie back, Ruth. Close your eyes and relax.” He pointed to the packages and instruments on the green sheet at his side. “Look, I’ll walk you through exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to give you a local anesthetic—that’s the only part that should hurt. It might pinch and burn, especially with how tender it is, but after that, it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts after that, you tell me right away. Okay?”

I nodded, trying to uncoil my tense muscles. I couldn’t make myself sit back and look away. I gave him a worried look. “Then what?”

“Then I’m going to open up this site where the splinter entered your knee initially.” He pointed to where my knee still leaked a thin stream of blood and fluid. “If I can see it, I’ll pull it out. If not,” he shrugged, catching my gaze. “We have to go in. Ideally, I’d have an ultrasound of what we’re working with. And Ruth, honestly, even if I get this out, we need to get one done to make sure there aren’t any foreign bodies left in there. But we’ll see how it goes.”

“But for now?” I prompted, my heart thudding in my chest.

He smoothed his knuckles along the shin of my uninjured left leg. “For now, let’s get it out. It’s a good first step either way.”

“Okay,” I breathed out. I coaxed my body to lie back against the pillows, letting my head relax and my eyes close. “I trust you.”

“God only knows why,” he said under his breath with some amusement.

“You’re my husband, aren’t you?” I joked with a grin.

His laugh sounded softly through the quiet living room. “If I was your husband, I’d be absolutely furious with you for this. So, count yourself lucky I’m not.”

I picked up my head with a shrewd eye squint. “And what would you do, exactly?”

Cal lifted his gaze to mine, and in those shadowed, emerald depths, I saw a flash of hardness. “Should I show you later?”

My mouth went dry. I ran my tongue along the inside of my lip, and my breathing hitched as a sudden wave of warmth spiraled at my core. Something in his expression hinted at shadowed, forbidden things. Things I wanted to shed light on. “Um.”

His features softened into a smile, and he returned his attention to my knee. He opened a packet with a glistening, orange-tipped swab. “Lie back Dr. Coldwell. You have my ego, remember?”

“And you have my body,” I said distantly, resting my head against the pillows again.

His voice shimmered with mirth. “Exactly.”

Chapter fifteen

Cal

Cal

Ruth’s dark baby hairs had matted to her forehead, which still gleamed with a sheen of sweat. Her eyelashes lay delicately against her cheeks, trembling as she twitched through a dream. She’d fallen asleep finally, but I’d had to up her pain meds a good amount to ease her out of her nervous shaking and intense pain. Although I’d given her local injections, and the pain should have been mitigated, the entire procedure had been a little harrowing. The splinter of wood had embedded itself in the subcutaneous layers of flesh over her bony knee, and even local anesthetic couldn’t do much for the pressure and prodding involved in getting it out.

Fortunately, I’d had Michael drop off our portable scan lab, and a quick ultrasound while I still had her numbed up had given me peace of mind that I’d gotten all of thedebris out. Michael had also taken her blood samples to the lab. Hopefully, they would tell me if the amoxicillin I was running through her IV was sufficient. At the very least, the fluids and meds were helping.

It was a relief to see her asleep after watching her writhe in pain. I found another fleece blanket in her closet, and keeping my footsteps light over her beige carpets, I returned to her and laid it over her shivering body. The antipyretics were doing a good job with her fever, but intravenous fluids were always a little chilly. I sat in the chair next to her couch, and unable to help myself, I smoothed those baby hairs away from her temples. I traced the soft lines of her face with my eyes, smiling faintly. She had indents on the bridge of her nose from her glasses, and her lips were cracked from dehydration, but somehow, I still found her unbearably irresistible.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and not wanting to wake her, I stood again. I went into the kitchen only a few feet away and leaned against her yellow Formica countertop as I answered. “This is Dr. Reed.”