“She was very clear she wanted nothing more than the antibiotics and whatever it took to keep her fever under control, and that’s all we’ll do unless her life is in danger.” He kept his tone mild, but he was sure the woman heard the thread of steel in the words.
“I understand. Her fever’s holding steady at a hundred four, though, so I’ll admit I’m concerned.”
The nurse pulled the empty IV bag from the pole, and Gavin took the full one from her, connected it, then hung it. “Come on, Sarah,” he whispered, “fight that infection off.”
“That’s my job, you know.” The nurse eyed the bag, then him.
“Yeah, I know, but it makes me feel useful. Humor me, please?”
She offered him a small smile. “Of course. She’s a lucky woman to have you. It’s obvious you care very much about her.”
“I do.” Gavin didn’t bother to correct her mistaken assumption that he and Sarah were a couple. The fact that they’d almost been that very thing still unsettled him when he thought about it too long. He didn’t know why they weren’t or where he’d gone wrong, he just knew Sarah had ghosted him after their third date. But all that was water under the bridge and not important. Now, he just wanted to get her home safe so she could recover.
Through lowered lashes, Gavin studied Sarah’s father. The man seemed immersed in his newspaper and coffee, but every so often, Gavin would catch him shooting glances at Sarah. Every time she cried out or groaned, he’d frown and his jaw would harden a fraction more.
“Gavin?” Sarah whispered.
He leaned in. “I’m here.”
“Good.” She licked her lips and he scooped a teaspoon of ice chips between them while he had the chance. “Where am I?”
“On the plane headed home.”
“Don’t wanna go home.”
“You’re really sick. You need to heal.”
Her eyes locked on his. “Don’t let him take me to his house. I mean it. I won’t stay in the same house with him.”
She was as lucid as she could be, and she really didn’t want to go to her father’s home. He nodded. “I’ll call Caden.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes shut and Gavin glanced at her father once more. He didn’t know whether to be angry with the man or pity him.
When Sarah woke again, it was to the dreaded familiar smell of a hospital. She frowned, vaguely remembering the flight. Gavin had been there, holding her hand because she wouldn’t let him go. And he’d wiped her tears. Hadn’t he?
Or had that just been a dream?
Oh, please let that have been a dream.
And the general. Had he been there as well? Memories flickered. Fuzzy and difficult to bring forth, but finally, she brought them into focus.
On the plane, Gavin had stayed with her, held her hand, fed her crushed ice, changed her IV bag . . . Ugh. Not a dream. Then she remembered Dustin. Her baby brother had jumped off a building. Grief crushed her and she swallowed, desperately wanting a sip of water but unable to muster the energy to look for some.
Her eyes finally stayed open long enough to zero in on the softly snoring man in the chair beside her bed. He’d fallen asleep facing the television that was turned to a national news channel. Captions ran across the bottom of the screen. For a moment, she watched, trying to figure out what day it was. The date and time stamp in the right-hand corner finally flashed and she blinked. She’d lost another two days.
“Cade?”
Sarah wasn’t sure she actually voiced his name out loud until he jerked and sat up. “Sarah?”
“Water.”
He grabbed the cup and held the straw to her lips.
After two pulls, she lowered her head back to the pillow. “What happened? Which hospital am I in?”
“You spiked a fever just before the flight home—which turned out to be thanks to a raging infection. We transported you here to the VA hospital, and the doctors pumped you full of antibiotics and more.” He shuddered and squeezed her fingers. “It’s been touch and go for the past few days.”
“Dustin . . . ,” she whispered.
Grief flashed across Caden’s face and he glanced away. So, that hadn’t been a dream—a nightmare—either. She noticed Gavin sitting under the window. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”
Embarrassed. Mortified. Devastated . . . “Tired. Very, very tired.”
“You’ve got visitors,” Caden said. “You up to it?”