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Rachel silently thanked Dallas again. She didn’t want Gavin to see her crying in the shower, not because she was vulnerable, but she would have fallen into his arms and spent a good half hour feeling sorry for herself, which she didn’t need right now. “I want to be angry,” she murmured before realizing she’d said the words aloud.
“And you can be, now. The doctor is here, by the way, and snarking about us letting you shower before he saw you. Blood loss, unconsciousness, so on and so forth. You’re not going to pass out, are you?” Dallas narrowed her eyes and Rachel shook her head, though she was feeling a little woozy.
Mrs. Finch was waiting in her room with an old-fashioned-looking robe, worn and soft. "It's the best thing to use with your arm," she explained when Rachel expressed her surprise. The two other women helped her dress in panties and worn jeans. Bra straps were gingerly slid over the still seeping wound and the robe donned. Rachel winced at the feel of cloth moving over her arm and apologized even as the cotton darkened with blood. Mrs. Finch shook her head, "It's fine. It's an old robe I keep in the back of my closet. Though we should have ripped that sleeve out."
They trooped down the stairs, Rachel between the other two women in case she became dizzy. By the time she made it to the kitchen and the doctor, she was feeling decidedly light-headed.
The distinguished-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses stood with a glass of what looked like whiskey. Senator Mitchell glared at him as he went on about meeting the Vice President. "Said I'd make a good representative. What do you think? There's a vacancy—"
“I think your patient is here,” Mitchell plucked the glass out of the doctor’s hand and steered him to the kitchen table where a first aid kit rested. “We have most of the stuff you need to check on her. Have a seat, Rachel. This is Doctor Harris.”
She sat and when he asked, removed the robe, revealing her serviceable cotton bra. The Senator quickly excused himself, stating he'd be waiting outside. Bear and Vince followed, leaving the women, the doctor, and Gavin, who pulled his chair up next to Rachel. "How bad is it?" he asked as the doctor bent to examine the graze.
“Not bad but dirty. I thought you showered,” he looked accusingly at Rachel who glared back at him.
“I did but I wasn’t going to scrub my wound. I covered it up.”
He huffed. “I’d normally have a nurse do this,” and pulled out a stack of paper-covered gauze pads. Looking around, he ordered, “Someone get me some warm water and soap.”
Mrs. Finch curled her lip and did so, taking the time to bring hand sanitizer and two clean towels. She laid all of them down except the hand sanitizer which she held in front of the doctor. When he just stared at her, she said, “For your hands. Or you can use the rubber gloves from the kit.”
He flushed and pulled the sanitizer toward him, squirting it on his hands and rubbing them. Then, fumbling, he donned the gloves and opened the gauze pads.
“Aren’t you supposed to open the pads before you put on the gloves?” Dallas asked and despite her throbbing arm, Rachel had to hide a smile. The physician was obviously not used to doing basic first aid. He glared at them all and cleaned her wound, eliciting a hiss from her when he pressed hard enough to restart the bleeding. Gavin, who’d put an arm around her shoulder, squeezed until Rachel whispered for him to ease up. He did so and smoothed his hand over her shoulder before resuming his glare at the doctor.
Fifteen minutes later, the arm was clumsily bandaged and he’d called in an antibiotic. When he offered to order something for pain, she refused. “I can just take aspirin or something over the counter.”
“When you change your mind, call my office and I’ll contact the pharmacy,” he said superiorly. The Senator returned with the men in tow and took in the bandage. “You’re finished?” He asked as Gavin helped Rachel into the robe again.
“We are. You realize I should contact the police about this Grayson,” Doctor Harris said, his expression sly. “I could forget about it, if you could get me an invite to the Governor’s Ball this year.”
“That’s okay. Go ahead and call the locals. They need to know if there are any other repercussions from this.” He smiled his senator’s smile at the doctor. “Thanks for coming, Todd. I’ll show you out.”
Rachel could hear Harris talking, heard mention of the ball again, and then murmurs as they moved farther away. Washington, she thought wryly and winced when the bandage pulled at her arm.
“Why’d he say you didn’t need stitches?” Bear asked as he eyed her arm.
“It was a graze. It didn’t hit any muscle or anything. I could go get stitches in an ER but with the waiting and all, the butterfly bandages and the liquid bandage should do the trick.” She hoped. “Was that his personal physician?”
"No," Mrs. Finch quickly answered. "Doctor Wheeler is his personal doctor, but he was out of town. He made a couple of calls and came up with Harris, though I have no idea why. We could have done a better job with your arm than that wannabe politician."
“And will,” said Dallas. “I can adjust that bandage if you want. It looks uncomfortable, and bulky.”
“Thanks,” Rachel said. “I’ll take you up on that. I need to find something to wear besides this robe.” She plucked at the worn cotton.
Mrs. Finch hummed a bit before she snapped her fingers. "I think there are some of Sierra's old clothes in the storage room. I'll go check. She always leaves something when she visits." She bustled out of the room.
Vince and Dallas excused themselves to go sweep the grounds for any evidence. Bear, no longer the jovial man who’d entertained them with stories, accompanied them, insisting on checking for lingering dangers. Senator Mitchell lowered himself into a chair, his features worn. “I’m sorry, Rachel.”
She stared at him. “What for?”
He gestured at her arm, “For that, that’s what. If I hadn’t been so gung ho about finding the drug ring leaders, you wouldn’t have been shot, or poisoned. Rankin would still be alive and—"
“And hundreds, maybe thousands of kids in the army will become addicts,” she finished quietly. When he looked at her she smiled, “Senator, we’ve all gotten so buried in the search and the puzzles and all that we’ve forgotten what we’re doing here. We’re trying to find a criminal who is making money by getting people addicted to drugs. From what I’ve read, this ring is distributing everything from heroin to meth. And wasn’t there several cases of tainted drugs? Strychnine tainted?” She covered his worn hand with her own, wincing slightly when she realized she’d used her injured arm. “I signed up for the military to protect our country and I signed up with Shadow Ops to do the same. This is why I’m here. Why Gavin is here. And why you tolerate the incessant meetings and egotists and all the crap you have to every day.”
She flushed when she realized how naïve she sounded. “It’s corny, maybe but that’s how I feel.”
Gavin squeezed her shoulder. “You’re right. I get caught up in the puzzles, the game of beating the criminal with my skills and intellect. It’s not that, really. It’s the kids that are in the services.”
