it was a dream, a kind young man holding her head above the cold water, crying, begging for forgiveness, and then the kindness of the Coast Guard. She knew that was who it was because they introduced themselves, talking to her the entire time, telling her everything they were doing for her.
Waiting on the dock for the medical helicopter to come, Gus had never left her side. Finding her voice, she’d told Gus when she saw him, crying out his name until the others shut up, frightening him until he understood that she wanted him to find Justin right away. “Justin’s at the bayou wild horse preservation.” He’d call Dave and tell him where to find Justin.
The ride in the helicopter was frightening because her head pounded with the change of altitude. The arrival to the trauma center increased her fear, the pain was worse, the noise, someone shouting at her, and she didn’t know what they wanted.
When her mother and aunt arrived, they hovered over her, crying, and in the background she saw Gus again. With her head locked in a neck brace, straining to see him, Maggie saw Gus’s tearstained face, waving to her, mouthing fight.
The whole experience was masked by concerns that she couldn’t shake, subtle worries that rose above the drugs and pain and discomfort: Justin, Brulee, and the progress of the animal rescue.
Now in the hospital, everything was falling into place. Closing her eyes again, she heard faint snoring and opened them, trying to turn to her right. It was Justin sleeping in a reclining chair the nurses had brought him. She studied his face in the dim light; the tatts on this neck stood out against his pale skin.
“Justin,” she croaked, her voice strained from thirst. “Justin.”
His head popped up, and he looked around, trying to remember where he was, and everything came flooding back to him. He jumped up to the side of the bed, grabbing her hand, and, unable to control it, started sobbing again. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear how much he loved her. He couldn’t imagine anything happening to her, especially not what had happened.
“I don’t remember the accident,” she said, her voice raspy. “I need water though. I know I can have it. The nurse left some with a straw.”
He looked around and saw a nightstand with melting Jell-O, some resinous-smelling broth, and a cup of melted ice. Holding the straw for her, he was relieved that she was drinking. Multiple bags of fluid hung from a pole next to her bed, but watching her strong enough to pull liquid through a straw meant she was stronger than she looked.
“That was good,” she said, resting her head back. “Is Brulee with Amber?”
“Yes. She went right over to the house as soon as Dave called her. She took Brulee back to her apartment. Dave got home an hour or so ago and said Brulee had gotten on their bed and was sleeping.”
“No way,” she said, and coughed when she tried to laugh. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Amber sends her love. They said they’ll light a candle tonight that you’ll get home soon.”
“I have to get home,” she said. “I’m freaking out about the rescue. Mr. Casson was going to move the trailer this week.”
Her voice had risen an octave, and with the beeping of the monitor, he could see she was a little agitated, her heart rate increasing.
“Maggie, calm down, or the nurse is going to make me leave if I upset you.”
She tried to look at the machine, but couldn’t turn her head with the collar on. “What’s wrong with me anyway?”
“I’ll get the nurse,” he said. “I didn’t see your scan results.”
It was a lie, he knew she had a bad concussion, but she might not take it seriously enough from him. She nodded, releasing him, and he went out to the nurses’ desk.
“I was just going to come in to see if it’s time for some pain meds,” the nurse said.
“She asked me about home, and her heart rate went up. I told her to chill or you’d kick me out.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that. What can I do for her?”
“She wants to know what’s wrong with her, and I thought it would be better coming right from the chart.”
“Okay, but you’re a vet. You can talk medical to her.” She picked up Maggie’s chart from a stack of charts she was trying to take orders from.
“Ah, I know my place, ma’am.”
He followed her back into