Broken Trust. Sharon DunnЧитать онлайн книгу.
the end of the bed. “So good to see you perking up.” She patted Christine’s foot.
“Your family’s here. I’ll be going.” Hurt tainted Wyatt’s words.
Christine easily detected that Wyatt was upset over her not saying anything about Dustin. In the course of their relationship, she’d gotten good at reading his signals. “I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I check out, and we’ll go talk to Randy’s mom. That seems like the best place to start.”
“Your deputy can do it,” he said. “She wasn’t just caught in a car-bomb explosion.”
His words jabbed at her heart. Was he punishing her for not saying anything about Dustin? Christine felt conflicted over the suggestion that Lisa should help Wyatt. Earlier today that had seemed like the perfect solution, but she couldn’t let her personal feelings interfere with her professional judgment. Lisa was not an experienced investigator. “I’ll be out of here soon enough. I want to handle this.” She just hadn’t been prepared for the resurgence of emotions she thought long dead. Being with him made her … afraid. She didn’t trust herself not to fall into old patterns around him.
She couldn’t discern the look on his face as he opened the hospital-room door. He left without saying another word. She listened to his footsteps fade.
Eva climbed into the bed with Christine.
“Eva, be careful.” Grandma Maggie moved closer to the head of the bed.
“I want to be close to Mommy.” Eva touched a bandage on Christine’s forehead.
“She’s all right, Maggie.” She looked into her daughter’s sympathy-filled eyes. “Just watch the IV, honey.”
“The doctors said you can check out in the morning.” Maggie turned toward the door. “Mr. Green certainly left in a hurry after he had been so worried about you.”
“Really?”
Maggie moved closer to the head of the bed. “He carried you all the way to the hospital, and as soon as they would let him, he stayed by your side.”
Warmth swelled around Christine’s heart. Wyatt had never been that attentive to her before, but past experience made her reluctant to trust his actions. “He probably was just waiting until you guys got back.” She wasn’t sure what to think about Wyatt. He had always been about work. Maybe he just thought being nice to her would help him get his assignment done faster. Still, something about him was different.
Maggie patted her hand. “You look tired. Come on, Eva, let’s go home. You can see Mommy in the morning before I take you to school.”
A few minutes after they left, a nurse brought in a meal for Christine. She picked at her pudding and sandwich, but was able to finish the container of milk. Christine drowsed while some mindless show played on the television. When she was still half-asleep, a nurse came in and offered her a painkiller.
She awoke in the darkness hours later. The television had been turned off. Though the curtains were drawn, she could see through a sliver between them that it was black outside. Her brain told her body to wake up, but the painkiller made that order impossible to follow. Her limbs felt heavy, immobile. She fell asleep again.
Her eyes shot open. Had an hour passed or only minutes? She was sweating and chilled at the same time. Bits and pieces of what had happened during the blast had come back to her in her dreams. A loud boom had surrounded her.
In her dreams, she had remembered the strength of Wyatt’s arms. She had heard his frantic voice telling her she was going to be all right. His face had been very close to hers.
She’d opened her eyes for a moment. What had he said to her? Just for the record, I did love you. I just didn’t know how to say it.
She wiped the perspiration on her brow and shivered at the same time. No, Wyatt hadn’t said that to her. She had just dreamed it. Her mind was filling in the blank spaces of memory with wishful hoping.
The heaviness of sleep returned and she drifted off. When she awoke, she had no idea how much time had passed. Ten minutes? An hour? The room was dark and the view through the half-open curtain was black. The painkiller still weighted her limbs. Her mind moved in slow motion. She was shivering.
A rustling in the corner caused her to turn her head.
“Wyatt?” Her throat had gone dry.
The bulk of the figure told her it couldn’t be Wyatt, but someone was in the room. Must be a doctor. Her eyelids felt heavy. The painkiller made it hard to stay awake. She pulled the covers tighter around her neck.
As she drifted off again, she heard a harsh voice. “You better watch your step with these feds, Sheeer-iiiiiff.”
Chilled and frightened, Christine struggled to open her eyes. The voice had been a low whisper and had come from a few feet away. She hadn’t heard footsteps. Was he still here?
With her heart hammering in her chest, she reached for her call button.
A nurse appeared a few minutes later in the doorway. The dark room covered the nurse in shadow, making it hard to see her face. “Yes?”
“There was somebody in my room.” Christine lifted her uninjured hand and pointed to where she’d seen movement.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll turn on the lights.” The nurse spoke in that compassionate but noncommittal tone that medical people learned to master.
The lights went on. Christine winced from the bright ness. There was nothing in the corner but her coat thrown over a chair.
The nurse tilted her head to one side and offered Christine a quick smile. She pulled a blanket out of a closet and walked over to her. She put her face close to Christine’s as she smoothed out the blanket. “You must be cold.”
Christine closed her eyes. The look of pity on the nurse’s face was a little too much to take. She was a stable, clear-thinking adult. Why would she imagine someone was in her room? “You didn’t see anyone come in here or leave?”
The nurse shook her head. “We’ve only got two other patients besides you. It’s real quiet. So I would notice.”
“I just thought—” Now with the lights on and the nurse seeming so rational, Christine began to doubt herself.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ve been through a lot today and everybody is affected differently by the painkillers.” The nurse moved toward the door. “Would you like the lights out?”
“No, please, leave them on.” Real or imagined, Christine didn’t want to face what waited for her in the dark.
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