Page 3 of Mulberry Hollow (Riverbend 2)

“Steady there.” She gave him a moment to get his bearings, then opened the door. “Are you all right to walk? I’m Dr.Robinson, by the way, and I’ll be seeing to your care tonight.”

“My pack...” His voice held a ragged edge.

“It’ll be fine here on the porch for now. Let’s get you settled in a room.” She led him on a slow walk toward exam room one. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Fever. Fatigue. Sore throat.”

“Any tick or mosquito bites?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Rash?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Have you been around anyone who’s sick?”

“Few days ago at a shelter. Guy was coughing a lot.”

Maybe a nasty virus, but she’d save the diagnosis until she’d properly examined him. “When did all this come on?”

“This morning.”

They were almost halfway to the room. She got the feeling he wasn’t used to requiring help and didn’t like feeling needy, so she changed the subject. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Because he was confused? Or because he hadn’t made plans yet? She assisted him through the exam room doorway. “You don’t know?”

“Just got here.”

“Where did you spend last night?”

“Laurel Knob.”

She slid him a sidelong look. “That’s almost fifteen miles away, and I didn’t see a car in the lot.”

He said nothing as he dropped onto the bed, sagged down, and closed his eyes. His breaths were labored, and he shook with chills.

Avery took his blood pressure. Laurel Knob was north of town, which meant he’d climbed over two thousand feet of rugged terrain before descending into the valley on a humid day that reached into the midnineties. Challenging even for a healthy adult.

His blood pressure was on the low side, and his heart rate was high, from dehydration, exertion, or both. She clipped the oximeter on his finger and waited for a reading. Normal.

She finished the exam, asking questions when they arose. By the time she checked his lungs, he was hardly responding to her questions.

“Mr.—sir, can you wake up for me?”

His lashes fluttered open and his sleepy gaze fixed on her.

“You never told me your name.”

He wet his lips. “Wes Garrett.”

“Okay, Wes. Well, you might have a pretty good upper-respiratory infection going on. But the more worrisome issue is that you’re dehydrated. I’m going to call over to Mission Hospital and have them send an ambulance. You’ll need an—”

“No.”

“I understand your reluctance, but your medical needs are beyond the scope of the clinic. You need anIV, perhaps some diagnostic tests, and overnight care.”