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Chapter Eleven
Cerine
My patient was thirsty, and here I stood arguing with the patient’s husband about whether he was or was not my mate. In fact, Finton was also my patient albeit one not nearly so sick. I poured a mug of tea and hurried to Trace’s side. His eyes were open, but he lay on his side, so I set the drink down and helped him get propped up with pillows. “I brought you some more tea.” I placed the cup in his hands and then smoothed the covers around his waist. “It’s better for you than water.”
He lifted it to his lips then made an awful grimace. “This is what my mouth tastes like. It’s what I wanted the water to get rid of. Ugh.”
Finton burst into laughter. “I’ve had at least a hundred cups of the stuff and, while it’s absolutely vile, I think it’s doing the job. I’m not nauseous anymore and all the pains are fading back.”
“Not a hundred,” I protested, hurrying back to the kitchen for a glass of water. “But you’re right, it is working.” She perched on the edge of the bed and swapped out the cup for the glass. “Drink the water because all fluids are healing but after that, I want to see you sipping the tea, all right?”
“But it’s horrible.”
“It’s good for you.” I gave him my serious healer face, trying not to show just how relieved I was to see him awake and aware. Since they got there, Finton and I had gotten as much tea into him as we could, but I wasn’t sure it was enough. He’d been so weak, nearly dehydrated, and barely roused enough to swallow. If I hadn’t found them when I did, if I’d just gone home and gone to bed without finding their tent, I didn’t think they’d have survived until morning.
“And there’s no alternative? Can I have honey in it or something?”
“Absolutely.” I stood and fetched the honey pot. As I added a generous dollop from the dipper, Finton came up behind me. He stood so close, I could feel his body heat and smell his scent, woodsy and warm. He’d had the opportunity to clean up and hadn’t vomited since his arrival.
“Honey? That’s an option?” he grumbled. “In each of those two hundred cups, I could have had sweetener?”
“Two hundred now?” I giggled. They were funny now that they had a little space between them and death’s door. “Of course. You can have honey or sugar. I think I have maple syrup if you prefer.”
“And you never offered?” His breath was warm on my ear, and I gave a little shiver. “Is that the way to treat your new mate?”
I turned to face him, finding myself only inches away with the bed against my legs making it impossible to back any further away. “I told you, you have a mate.” Sure our alphas shared a female, but they were the exception. And they hadn’t gone into it at a moment like this when highly traumatized. “And I would have anticipated that if you wanted honey, you’d have asked for it like Trace here did.”
“Well,” Trace put in, “I know how I like my tea.”
“And you’re saying I don’t?”
Pinned between Finton and the bed, I couldn’t go anywhere, and they were having to talk around me in their argument about tea. Also, all the testosterone was going to my head. Men rarely came here and if they did, it was for medical treatment and then bam! out and on their way elsewhere.
Finally, I planted my palm in the center of Finton’s chest and pushed him back. “I think you both know how you take your tea, but how about if we make the switch to soup?” I stepped to the side, where I could move freely. “Trace, Finton has had some of my chicken soup, and I think he can confirm that we don’t need any honey in that. Would you like a bowl?”
“Do I still have to drink the tea?”
“Mate!” Finton snapped. “How can Cerine help you if you fight the very thing that will help you get well?”
“Okay, but I want extra honey.”
Are you sure you want them for our mates?I queried my wolf as I moved toward the kitchen to heat some soup for both of them. Finton was doing better all the time, and he’d need a real meal soon, so I tried to think what I had that would fill up a big man. Luckily, although I wasn’t a huge eater, as a wolf shifter, I tended to eat a lot of protein, and my patients often paid me in game.
It’s not that I want them. It’s that they are.
I just don’t think this is the right time. I have to heal them, and then they have to deal with what happened to their families and friends. It’s not the time to start a relationship.I set the saucepan on the stove and filled it with enough soup for the three of us. While it heated, I got a frozen hunk of venison out of the freezer and set it on the counter to thaw.
Trace was looking so much better, probably because he was fully awake now, and his mate was sitting beside him, speaking low and calm, no longer bantering or arguing at all. Their connection was strong, even I could see that, and I was glad I hadn’t listened to my wolf, or my heart.
Damn my heart.
Because I wanted to sit down and be part of that conversation. I was straining to hear what they said. Without looking like I was. These two men were born to be together; anyone could see that. And as soon as they were better and the blizzard that had closed in around us again as soon as we were safely indoors eased, I’d let the alphas know they were here so they could help them with whatever they needed to move forward.
Also, the alphas would want to follow up on what had happened to their pack. If it was indeed what I suspected, it could be a danger to any of us. I prayed it was less awful than that.
Wanting to give them more than just a bowl of soup, I found a package of soda crackers in the cupboard. It wasn’t anything special, but it should be easy on sensitive tummies. I also spotted a bag of chocolate chips.
It might be too soon for cookies, but if they continued to improve, they might be ready for them tomorrow.
Tomorrow. For tonight, I’d give them soup and crackers and tuck them into my bed together with a kiss on the forehead.
Okay…that sounded weird even to me.
