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***
That wasn’t going to happen. Wes shook his head, the motion making it pound. “Can’t.”
Probably just a little virus. Granted it had literally knocked him to his knees today—more than once if he was honest. And he couldn’t begin to explain the relief he’d felt upon reaching the clinic. After the hot trek over the mountain, the rest felt divine, and the cool concrete porch was as welcoming as a luxury mattress.
“You’re severely dehydrated, Wes. You needIV fluids.”
His gaze locked on the doctor’s face. Ivory skin, smattering of freckles across her nose. Delicate brows arched over green eyes that would’ve stolen the show if not for that mane of brown hair.
She didn’t look much like a doctor in her white sleeveless top. Didn’t smell like one either; he drew in a fragrance that hinted of sunshine and coconuts. Then he realized she must be smelling him too.
Time to go. He pushed up to a sit, the movement taking ridiculous effort. He blinked against his throbbing headache and pushed off the table.
The doctor placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. “Whoa, whoa, where are you going? Did you hear what I said? You’re dehydrated—and you need an X-ray of those lungs and possibly other diagnostic tests to rule out something more serious.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll drink some water and rest a couple days.” As he got to his feet the room spun. His vision went dark around the edges, coming down to ragged pinpoints of light.
Come on, Garrett.Fight it back.
She put both hands on his arms and easily pushed him back down to the table. “What’s your problem with the hospital?”
He waited for the spinning to stop, then locked his eyes on hers. “No insurance.”
“They’ll treat you there anyway. It’s a terrific hospital. They’ll take good care of you.”
But they’d still bill him, and he had no way of paying for it. He didn’t take on debt if he could help it; it was a matter of honor. He licked his lips. So thirsty. “Don’t think so. Can you recommend a place nearby with a shower and bed?”
“Mr.... Wes. I highly recommend you rethink your plans. You really do need fluids and—”
He pushed to a stand, the wave of dizziness not taking him by surprise this time. “I appreciate the diagnosis, Doc. We can settle up and I’ll be out of your hair.”
He started toward the door, his legs wobbling as if he were on stilts. His head spun and his heart thrashed against his rib cage. He powered through, exiting the room. He had exactly$127 in his bag. Probably shouldn’t have bothered with the clinic because that would likely cost everything he had, and he still had to pay for a—
“Wait. Wait.” The doctor stepped in front of him. “Do you have friends or family in town?”
“No.” He braced a hand against the wall.
She pursed her lips. “Fine. You can stay here. I’ll set up anIV. I don’t usually do that, but I’ll make an exception this time.”
“Not necessary. I’ll be fine.”
She narrowed her eyes on him, her full lips going tight at the corners. “Actually, you won’t be. You’re feverish but not sweating. You have a rapid pulse and you’re light-headed. And then there’s that headache you haven’t mentioned. All signs your body’s in desperate need of fluids, Wes, and you need them now. If you try walking to the nearest motel—which, by the way, is over a mile away—you’ll pass out on the side of the road, and when someone finds you in the morning, they’ll be calling that ambulance for you.”
“I don’t have—”
“Insurance, I know. We’ll work something out.” She grabbed his elbow. “This way. I have a hospital bed in room four where you’ll be comfortable.”
He was too weak to fight. And he hated to admit it, but she was probably right about passing out. Even now the room was spinning, and putting one foot in front of the other was a challenge. He followed her down the hall, his hiking boots feeling as if they were weighted with sand.
An overnight stay in a medical clinic that obviously wasn’t staffed for nighttime emergencies—this would cost a fortunehe wouldn’t be able to pay back anytime soon. Visions of his childhood swam in his head. The creditor messages, the eviction notices, the middle-of-the-night departures his dad tried to sell as a grand adventure.
He pushed away the memories and focused on walking. He entered the room and spotted the bed. Almost there. Just a few more steps and he could finally sink into oblivion.
Chapter3
Avery had been dozing on and off, but concern for her patient once again had her sitting up. She blinked against the glow of the hall light. Her Fitbit read 3:17 a.m., about seven minutes past the last time she’d checked. As she stood the air conditioner kicked on, and she folded her arms against the cold blast of air.
For the third time that night she padded from the office, down the hall, and pushed open the door to room four. Her patient didn’t even stir as light flooded the room. She neared the bed and noted the slow rise and fall of his chest. The beads of sweat on his forehead verified theIV was doing its job. In the morning she would send him on his way.
