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Eva managed not to cringe at thema’am. “When can I see him?”
Those perfectly glossed lips curved in a warm smile. “Mr. Bartholomew’s surgeon will be out shortly to fill you in.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Eva rubbed her palms together. She was almost free of this waiting room with its cheerful décor, glossy brochures on chronic illness and death, and terminally slow internet.
The more time she spent in Haleswood, the more she realized the rest of the world didn’t move at the same fast pace she preferred. As much as she enjoyed the people, there were moments when she felt like she’d been transported back in time.
Her mind raced forward. She’d spend the night here with Bart, feeding him ice chips or sneaking him ice cream, whichever he preferred. And tomorrow they’d convince Ross to let Carson off the hook for babysitting. Full of nerves, she looped her laptop bag across her body and wrestled her cell phone out of her pocket. “I’ll notify his family.” It would give Carson a chance to woo his perfectly adorable ‘prospect’.Gag.
She sent a quick text message to Bart’s ex-wife, promising someone would let her know more when details about his expected recovery time came in. Another text went to Ross. Still aggravated, she wasn’t ready to communicate verbally with her boss just yet.
In the reflection of the window across the room, she watched Carson walk Shannon back to her desk. Because so many terrible things could happen in the thirty or so feet between here and there.
Eva pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. She couldn’t possibly be this petty all the time. A difficult day was no reason to snipe about the people who’d been helpful, even in her mind. She’d never resented nice people or common courtesy before.
Determined to reverse her negative attitude before the surgeon arrived, she took slow, deep breaths and focused on a happy memory. It was an exercise her mother had taught her when her temper kept getting her in trouble in the seventh grade. That in itself was always the first happy memory.
“Doing the right thing is commendable, Evangeline,” her mother had said with pride. “But you must do it in the right way.”
Back then, Eva had been standing up for a friend who was getting bullied for the high crime among children of being different. In that instance, her friend had been deemed too short and Eva had taken action, punching the bully in the nose and labeling him ‘Too Bloody Tom’.
She figured the reminder was timely here. Trapping Bakr Morcos would require not only the right actions, but taking those actions with the right support and going through the right channels. Irritating or not, her temper would only create more problems in the current circumstances.
“Eva?”
“Yes?” She turned to find Carson looking at her with far too much concern. Beside him stood a man in scrubs. “Hello.” She extended her hand. “You must be the surgeon.”
The newcomer nodded. “Mr. Bartholomew is in recovery and doing well. The bullet missed everything vital, so we have no serious concerns. He’ll stay overnight for observation and I expect he’ll be discharged in the morning.”
“Can I see him?”
“Of course,” the surgeon said with a nod. “A nurse will come get you as soon as he’s in a room.”
“Thank you.” Relief swamped her and she sagged into the nearest chair the moment the doctor walked away. “More waiting,” she said to Carson.
“But you know he’s okay now.”
She nodded, unable to give voice to all the fear she’d felt when that bullet tore through Bart. Losing him – or any of her friends from her Army days – wasn’t an option.
Carson held up his phone. “Sheriff Cochran called. Ruth’s place should be ready for you in an hour or so.”
“Okay.”
“Once you’ve seen him we’ll get you moved.”
“Am I the only one who understands bringing more ‘strangers’ to the area raises more questions and makes us more vulnerable?” Carson silently stared at a point just over her shoulder. She knew the painting on the wall behind her wasn’t that interesting. “Aha! You agree with me.”
“Didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.”
“The additional security team coming will be vetted. They’re not strangers if we know them.”
“Convenient reasoning.”
He grumbled an indecipherable response just as her cell phone hummed with an incoming text.
She pulled up the message, read it, and dropped the phone. Stupid move. This guy would pounce on any sign of weakness. She looked around the waiting room wondering who it could be.Think! But the dread icing her spine made logic a challenge. Less than ten people had this cell phone number. Until now.
