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The thought brought a little pang. Even though her sleep had been restless, it was kind of nice having someone here. The buildingand her apartment were so quiet at night. She was alone a lot—which was not the same thing as lonely. She was not lonely. She had her work and her family and friends.
Well,friend.Katie was really the only person outside her family to whom she was close. But she had many acquaintances and neighbors, people who cared, and that was the same thing, wasn’t it?
She checked theIV site and lowered the rate of infusion.
Wes gave a low moan. The blanket she’d covered him with was pushed to the side and hanging over the rail. He wore the hospital gown he’d insisted on donning himself last night. But he hadn’t secured the neckline, and it had slipped down, exposing well-defined shoulders.
She hoped he had the good sense to rest up until the illness passed, but these thru-hikers were a driven lot. He wouldn’t be the first to push through illness or injury for some arbitrary deadline and end up worse for the wear.
She placed the back of her hand on his forehead. Hot to the touch. He was shivering a bit so she adjusted the blankets over him.
“Time is it?” he croaked.
“After three. How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
She took that with a grain of salt since he seemed intent on downplaying his symptoms, and his fever was still high enough to cause myriad unpleasant symptoms.
“You didn’t have to stay.” His eyes fluttered shut, calling attention to long lashes she would’ve traded her best brownie recipe for.
She’d explained this last night but did so again. “My apartment’s upstairs so I crashed in my office. Just give a holler if you need anything.”
“I’m fine...” The sentence trailed off and his breaths lengthened once again.
He was weak as a baby and clearly in the throes of this virus. Maybe he wouldn’t be moving on so quickly. Today was Sunday and the clinic was closed. There was no reason to rush him out the door. Besides, it was Fourth of July weekend, and finding an available bed would take a miracle.
Avery awoke to a loud crash. She bolted upright in bed and blinked against the daylight. Not bed. Sofa. She’d finally fallen into a sound sleep, and now it was... seven thirty.
Another sound came from down the hall, and she remembered her patient. She pushed back the blanket, sprang to her feet, and rushed down the hall, following the sounds of muttering.
Wes was sitting up in bed, theIV out, the pole tipped over onto the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry ’bout that.”
“Lie back down and let me get your vitals.”
“I’m fine. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
She gave him her best doctorly expression. “It will only take a minute. Lie down please.”
He held her gaze for five full seconds before his jaw ticked, his thick beard twitching. With seemingly great effort he swung his legs back into the bed and sank down, his eyes falling shut. The minimal movements had left him winded, and fever still flushed his cheeks.
Avery took his vitals. His blood pressure and oxygen levels were in the normal ranges, but his heart rate was rapid, though that was probably from exertion. She withdrew the thermometer from his mouth. “You’re properly hydrated and your vitals look good with the exception of your temperature: 101.8. You must be feeling pretty crummy.”
“If you could just recommend a place nearby with a bed and a shower, I’d be much obliged.”
“Tell you what. You take it easy for a minute, and I’ll go make a few calls.”
“Don’t have to do that.” But Wes was already drifting off again. Just as well. The man needed rest.
***
Wes’s eyes snapped open and fell on the doctor as she swept into the room. He must’ve been asleep awhile—sunlight now flooded the room. Plus the doctor’s hair was done up in a ponytail, and she’d changed into a collared shirt and white lab coat.
With great effort he pushed himself to a sitting position. His head throbbed and every muscle in his body screamed. But his skin felt clammy, like maybe his fever had broken.
