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Suddenly, they shot ahead and were on their way. With his stomach a mess of anxiety, the roiling bile building up acid in his throat making swallowing painful, he clutched the handles, leaned forward, and spoke man to man with the deity he’d called on.“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. Now if you could just get us to the highway please.”
Vowing to pay a huge amount of tithe to the local church in compensation for their safety, he basically drove the next little while on promises and prayers. After another ten minutes of gripping the handles and listening to Glen’s occasional mutter of encouragement, he saw a light shining in the distance and prayed they were the headlights of the snowplow who’d promised to wait for them.
Yep! There they were. Okay, now he could relax and finally take a full breath of the thin, icy air.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Fred.” Demi raced to the man slumped in a heap against the arm of the sofa. “Fred. What’s happening?” She straightened his form, making him as comfortable as she could then continually called out his name to wake him up at the same time as she took his pulse.
At first she couldn’t feel anything, so she took a calming breath to settle her own terror, then she felt his neck again… nothing. She couldn’t find a pulse anywhere. Knowing her own fear was her worst enemy, she tried his wrist. Again, she called out to him. “Fred. Wake up. Please.”
Deciding she’d have to somehow get him flat so she could do CPR, she called him one last time and blessed the fact that he’d begun to show signs of recovery.
Very slowly, the man opened his bloodshot eyes and focused on her. Gasping for air, he slurred words that she understood. “Wh-wha hap-pen?”
“I think you had a heart attack, Fred. Just sit still. I have some aspirin.” In seconds, she’d returned with the medicine. Grabbing two spoons and a glass of water, she quickly returned to the semi-conscious man. Thinking he might have trouble swallowing, she ground up the tablets, using two because with her hands shaking so much, some of the gravelly substance dropped to the floor. Finally, she mixed in some water to make a bit of a paste and then held the spoon to Fred’s lips.
“Here, Fred. It’s medicine. You need to swallow it. Fred, wake up. You have to open your mouth.”
Groaning, the old man finally seemed to hear her urgent pleas. He opened his mouth just barely enough for her to shovel the spoon in and pray he’d swallow the medicine. Just in case, she spooned more water for him to take, thinking he’d have to swallow that for sure. After a few minutes, he seemed to perk up a bit.
In the meantime, she loosened his clothes, the buttons on his shirt and the waistband of his pants, feeling invasive yet knowing it was the right thing to do. Taking those first-aid courses she’d insisted on as manager of Fulton House, the teen center she’d owned in Phoenix, came in handy now for sure.
Removing his shoes, she bolstered him against the side of the couch and covered him with the warm blanket she’d knitted once she’d finished the scarves that had been the first pathetic samples of her newest hobby. Tucking in the corners, she smoothed the sweaty hair from his forehead, checking for a temperature and calming slightly at finding his skin cool.
“Fred, can you tell me how you feel?”
She watched his eyes flutter a few times before he seemed able to focus. “M-yy ches hurs.”
“I’m sure it does. Just lie quietly. I’ll stay with you.”
Settling beside him, she saw him reach out and without hesitation, she slid her hand to hold his, their fingers entwining, his cold… hers warm. After a short time, his hand became lax.
Taking the opportunity to send a text to Norrie, she enquired how best to treat Fred. Knowing it would be impossible to get him to the hospital that night or maybe even the next day, she asked for instructions on how to look after him properly in the cabin. Unable to fully depend on getting an answer soon, it still made her feel better for asking.
Next, deciding to rebuild the dying fire, she first stopped to speak to the wolf before gathering the wood she needed. “You’re being a good boy, Nito. Can’t understand why you’re hanging around since you seldom sleep in the house, but I like the company.”
A slight lift of his tail signaled he’d heard her words, but it didn’t warrant his full attention. He lowered his head next to Pearl, who slept between his paws. That made her smile. Once she’d fixed the fire, she headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Thinking it would be a long night, she added a grilled cheese sandwich for her and Nito and a few sweets to the plate before returning to her patient.
Unwilling to take chances, she made sure Fred hadn’t moved before she pulled her big chair close to the sofa. She threw Nito his treat, watching as he shared it with the kitten, and then fetched her laptop to put beside her and settled in for a long night.
Dinner tasted as good as the coffee and cookies, and it helped wake her up so she could concentrate on her writing. Deep into her story now, she had a climax to work on and then the ending. Having earlier plotted those scenes in her head, she found it easy to type the time away.
Every half an hour, she went to check on her patient and found him sleeping…hmm, or passed out. She couldn’t be certain. Not sure if lying to herself made things better, but each time she took his pulse, she swore it appeared stronger. As signs go, that had to be the best.
Eventually, her eyes began to shut of their own accord. Frustrated, Demi knew she mustn’t give in to sleep but couldn’t fight it much longer. Worried, she grabbed her knitting bag and tried to concentrate on keeping her hands busy while only the howling winds outside and the crackling fire broke the silence in the room.
This new knitting pattern taxed her to the limits of her patience and fueled her determination to make one blasted thing without a bunch of mistakes.
When she’d presented Glen and Whit with their crooked, multi-colored, overly long winter scarves both men thanked her nicely, but she saw them glance at each other with silly grins. It’s true they used them, so she needn’t feel all that work was for nothing, but she wondered how often they were left in the truck once they reached town.
Feeling she’d greatly improved since then, she’d made them each new ones to put under the Christmas tree and was secretly delighted with those.
No matter. All the practice had helped her improve and the sweater she worked on for Norrie’s Christmas present shocked her. It looked quite perfect so far.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Nito’s barking woke Demi to the noise of a machine outside. Because of the wolf’s tone, she knew not to be afraid. He only sounded like that when he knew the person.
