Page 53 of Jameson’s Salvation

Thank God!

“I’m so cold.”

A blanket was pulled up to my neck and I cuddled in.

A blanket?

I started to open my eyes again but all I could do was blink. The motion made me light-headed and my stomach woozy.

“Where am I?”

There was no smell of grass and wood burning. It almost smelled clean, like the scent of bleach hung in the air.

“The hospital.”

“The hospital? Why?”

“Babe.” Jameson’s voice sounded strangely thick. Not like his normal deep, honeyed tone. Like he was wrought with worry. “You lost consciousness.”

What the hell? I did? I remembered sitting down so I didn’t fall forward and land in my own vomit, but I didn’t remember passing out. And I certainly didn’t remember going to the hospital.

“How’d I get here?”

Maybe one of my neighbors saw the smoke and called 911.

“I drove you.”

I took one more chance and tried to pry my eyes apart slowly, and finally Jameson’s handsome face came into view, albeit blurry.

“Hey there,” he whispered. “Welcome back.”

Welcome back? What did that mean?

“I’m a little freaked out. I can’t remember what happened.”

“You were hit in the head and you have a concussion.”

“I remember that part. It hurt so bad, and my boxes were on fire. I tried to get help but don’t remember what happened after that.”

Jameson’s frown lines deepened and his thumb gently grazed my forehead.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Beyond the obvious?” His head tilted and his eyes roamed my face.

I started to nod but the tiny movement sent a shock of pain all over and I winced.

Good God, my head hurt.

“I need to ask you something,” he started and his lips twisted in indecision. I wanted to prompt him to go on, but it hurt too bad to move. “Do you know why your shirt was off when I found you?”

My shirt was off? Panic started to bubble in my chest as I searched for an explanation.

Then I remembered. “I was hot. I cover up when I’m collecting the honey frames so I don’t get stung. The key to my four-wheeler was gone so I started walking home to get water. I was sweating so bad, I took off my shirt.”

Relief washed over his features and he leaned forward to kiss my head. It hurt like a mother, but I wasn’t going to complain. Jameson’s touch was the only thing keeping me together.

“Who hit me?”