Page 44 of His Wounded Heart

He nods. I have my gaze pinned on Violet. She’s not coughing now but I’m watching as her body shakes with chills.

“Let’s go get your coat and you can put it on so you’re not as cold.”

“We don’t wear our coats in the house,” he explains to her as they walk out of the room hand in hand.

As soon as they’re gone, I immediately rush to Violet Randolph’s side. When I put my hand to her forehead, I find that she is burning up.

“Violet?” I say loudly. “Can you hear me, Violet?”

“So cold,” she whispers.

I pull back the covers and find her in her wet nightgown. She’s sweated right through it, which is just adding to her misery. She starts to cough again, and it’s the deep, bronchial cough of pneumonia. Her face is chalk white. She needs a hospital…now. I stalk into the living area.

I go up behind Trenda where she’s standing next to Luther. I pull her aside. “We need to get Violet to a hospital immediately.”

She nods. Her attention is focused on Luther as he slowly pours soup into a pan.

“I need you to go in there and change her clothes. Get her into something warm so we can take her into town.”

She nods again.

“Luther.” Her voice is calm and kind. She touches his shoulder when he doesn’t respond. “Luther, can you look at me?”

He puts down the empty can, then turns to look at her.

“Who are you?” he asks me. “Why are you in my house?”

“I’m here to get you food.” I answer. I can tell he isn’t satisfied with my answer.

“My friend is going to be right back with some cookies, okay?” Trenda asks.

A slow grin spreads across his face. “I like cookies,” he says shyly.

She turns to me and mouths, “Go.”

I leave the house, my mind racing. Thank God the backseat is a bench seat, so I don’t have to deal with a console. Still, how in the hell am I going to buckle her in when she’s lying down?

I pull up the tarp in the back and thanked God for Trenda’s OCD back at the fire station. It had annoyed me at the time when she’d sorted the food into separate boxes for each delivery, I’d felt we were wasting time, but right now I could kiss her.

Kiss her.

Shut up! Focus on getting the food inside.

I heft their box up on one shoulder and open the door, Trenda has set Luther up stirring the soup on the gas stove, which I notice isn’t lit. She’s good. Luther’s head whips around.

“Who are you?” he asks belligerently.

“I have cookies in this box,” I say in a placating tone.

“I have to finish making soup for my wife.”

I put the box down on the table and knock on the closed bedroom door.

“Come in,” Trenda calls. When I open the door, I see that Violet is now wearing what looks like a nightgown over jeans. Trenda is tugging on a sweatshirt over the poor woman’s listless body.

“Her pulse is thready,” Trenda says. “Can you help with her socks?” She nods her head to the pair on the bed.

I scoop up the wool socks. When I touch Violet’s foot, my jaw clenches. It is damn near blue and feels like an ice cube. I quickly pull them up Violet’s feet.