out, offering pills and water. At some point, Arden came awake to find a woman she didn’t know pressing a stethoscope against her chest.
“Hello there,” she said, her voice deep and mellow. “I’m Dr. Loft. I practice general medicine here in Sheridan.” She moved the stethoscope to a different place. “How are you feeling?”
Arden took stock. “Cold,” she whispered, with a shiver. “Dizzy. Sick.”
“You have a fever.” Dr. Loft put the stethoscope in the pocket of her white coat. Her fingers, warm and firm, pressed on the sides of Arden’s throat and under her jaw. “We’ve got a nasty virus going around and I suspect you’re playing host this weekend.”
She pushed up the sweater to poke at Arden’s belly in various places. “Does this hurt? This? Breathe in and hold it. Again. Okay, I’m done.”
As Arden straightened her sweater and pulled the covers back up to her shoulders, the doctor dragged a chair over to sit by the bed. With her dark skin and long, elegant neck, she looked like an Egyptian queen.
“I don’t have a medicine that will chase this virus away,” she said, making notes on a clipboard in her lap. “You can take regular pain pills for the fever and muscle aches. I can give you a prescription for the dizziness and for nausea. You’ll just have to ride this out, but in three or four days you should be pretty much back to normal.
“Eat what you can, and drink—we don’t want you dehydrated. If you’re not feeling absolutely well in a week, I want to see you in my office.” She set a business card on the bedside table. “Any questions?”
“Do you…” Arden pulled in a deep breath. “Do you deliver babies?”
“For uncomplicated pregnancies, yes. I refer high-risk patients to a specialist.” Her eyebrows drew together over dark brown eyes. “Are you pregnant?”
“N-no. I don’t think so.”
“Are you trying to become pregnant?”
Despite the chills shaking her, Arden thought she could feel herself blush. “Um…yes.”
Dr. Loft got to her feet. “In that case, I definitely want to see you in a week, even if you’re feeling terrific. You should be taking vitamins and eating a balanced diet. Let’s make sure you’re in the best possible health for this adventure.”
As she picked up her medical bag, Arden cleared her throat. “I didn’t know doctors made house calls anymore.”
Her throaty laugh filled the room. “This is a small town. We do favors for each other. Dr. Jake came to my place when our Great Dane puppy got into a fight with a stray dog. I couldn’t manage my eighteen-month-old daughter and an injured animal. So when he called, I was glad to return the favor.”
“Igor.” Arden sat up suddenly, then fell back with a groan as the room whirled. “Did Griff find him? Is he back?”
The doctor put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find out. You stay in bed and keep calm.”
Mrs. Campbell came in a few moments later. “Griff is out looking for Igor,” she said, smoothing the pillows and blankets. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute now.”
“But it’s late, isn’t it? What’s the time?” Arden wanted to see the clock, but her head was too heavy to lift.
“Don’t worry, sweetie.” A soft hand brushed the hair off her forehead. “Everything will be okay. Just relax.”
“I can’t lose him,” Arden fussed. “He’s all I have….”
GRIFF’S THIRD TRIP into the woods felt like an exercise in futility. After eight hours, Igor could be anywhere in the county. And Griff would prefer to be sitting with Arden, watching her sleep.
As his mom had pointed out, though, Arden would feel better when the dog came home, virus or no virus. So here he was, fighting brambles, tramping through mud and wearing out his voice calling for the truant animal.
“Igor. Igor, come home, buddy.” His dry mouth couldn’t send out much of a whistle. “Damn it, Igor. Come. Now.”
He heard his dad’s voice, over to the south, and an echo from Kathy’s husband, calling off to the north. They could cover the ground faster this way. What would happen if they didn’t find the dog, though, would be his responsibility alone.
The Campbell portion of the forest ended on a ridge above a deep, brush-filled ravine. The wooden fence marking the boundary line wouldn’t have kept a deer or Igor on the property.
Griff stood on the edge, staring down into the gully, as his dad came up beside him. “I haven’t been down there. The sides are steep.”
“That’s Fletcher property,” Jake