The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,30
right back to work.” He took a breath. “Then, when you do go to work, it’s going to strenuous and you have no help.”
She couldn’t lie. Though she wanted to. “Yes.”
He looked at her steadily. “I see.”
She smiled. “I’m glad we discussed this.”
“You’re staying another night.”
All happiness vanished like a blink of her one eye. “What? But I’m better!”
“You’re better, but you’re far from being healed. I think another twenty-four hours of rest and relaxation will help you.”
Frannie closed her eyes in frustration. She was just about to argue, to do anything she could do get herself out of her half of that beige prison . . . when she realized he’d already gone through the curtains.
“Doktah?” she murmured.
“Oh, he’s long gone, honey,” said the lady from the other side. “You sure dug yourself a deep hole, though. Really fast, too.”
Frannie wanted to ignore her. She really did.
But she was so lonely and depressed, she found herself responding. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that if you want to get out of here, you have to tell everyone that you aren’t going to do anything but sit and rest when you get home. That you won’t hardly lift a finger.”
“But that’s not true.”
“That’s why they invented the word lying, dear. So you can make stuff up and pretend it’s true.” She chuckled again, her laugh sounding so warm and full of mirth that they could have been close friends. How strange, since Frannie had never actually even seen the woman.
“I guess I shouldn’t have told him I was going to be so busy,” she admitted. “Next time I see him, I’ll follow your advice. Danke.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Then something occurred to her. “Ma’am, if you know what to say, why haven’t you said any of that? Why are you still here?”
“That’s easy, dear. Unlike you, I don’t want to leave.”
“Oh,” she murmured, just as the lady’s phone rang and she answered.
What did it mean to be more comfortable with a hospital room than in your own home?
Pushing aside her worries, Frannie focused on the lady sharing her room. Had the woman been so distressed that she could only find comfort in her constant phone conversations? Could she never find peace by herself . . . knowing that the Lord was beside her always?
Though Frannie knew there were times in her life where she was sad, frustrated, and confused, she always knew where to turn when she felt alone. How thankful she was for God’s presence in her life.
Frannie was still sitting and trying to be thankful despite the doctor’s orders when she heard the door open. It was followed by a shuffling from the other side of the curtain.
Since her roommate’s noisy relatives seemed to enter at all hours of the day and night, Frannie half listened. Hoped an orderly or nurse was making plans to wheel her roommate out for a bit.
Getting a break from the noisy woman would be welcome, for sure. When she heard nothing, she found herself leaning a little bit closer to the curtain, listening for a clue of who had just arrived. If the woman was due for more company, perhaps at the very least they would talk about something interesting. For the last hour, the only thing the lady had talked about were her friend’s children, who sounded like the worst sort of hellions. Frannie didn’t understand how telling children “no” could be such a difficult thing.
The steps pattered closer.
Wary, she looked at the curtain. Saw it flutter.
Oh, surely another nurse wasn’t coming in with a needle? She was so tired of getting her blood drawn.
The curtain parted, and she blinked in surprise. “Micah!”
“Yes, it is me. Hello, Frannie.”
“It’s gut to see you again,” she said, smiling.
“I am happy to see you, too.” Pausing with his back brushing the curtains, he looked her over with frank appreciation. “I do like your smile, Frannie. You must be doing better.”
“Some, but not much. The doktah is making me stay another day.”
“That is a shame. But if the doctor says you must stay here, then I suppose you should. He is in charge.”
That was Micah. Nothing if not practical.
To her surprise, he walked closer and sat right down without being asked. And then, to her further surprise, he reached for her hand despite the bandages—and clasped it gently between his own. Immediately, she felt his warmth.
“What is going on?” She didn’t mind his hand-holding. Not really. It was just that it was terribly unlike him to show affection.