Page 65 of Smoky Lake

A thought swam toward him. “Antibodies. You have them.”

“Yes, but those are my antibodies. I can’t just inject them into you. Well, I could, technically, but that would be a last resort and a temporary fix.”

“Why?”

“Our immune systems are very specialized. They basically create customized antibodies to each new threat. Your immune system has to learn how to fight every new virus it encounters, and my antibodies won’t help with that. Normally transfusions are only done with people with very low white blood cell counts, and I’m sure you’re not in that category. There’s also a risk my cells could attack yours and cause more problems. It’s much safer for you if your body produces its own white blood cells.” She whooshed out a breath. “Long explanation, sorry.”

He didn’t mind. Her voice was so soothing, despite the subject matter. “I trust you. I also trust your cells.”

She gave a low laugh. “I appreciate that, but as your doctor, I can’t advise that. We have other options.”

“Like what?”

“Let your body handle this. You’re young and healthy, you have a strong physique. Dr. Christianson said children and the elderly are most at risk. That’s because their immune systems aren’t optimized. Your body should be able to fight this off, while we manage the symptoms. If you need oxygen, or any kind of intervention like that, we’ll go to a hospital, or we’ll call the CDC. Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Dr. Christianson is the last resort.”

He still didn’t completely trust the CDC team. Dr. Christianson had lied about the testing, after all. All of them had been so cagey about everything.

He struggled to sit up. “I can’t just lie here and…”

“Yes, you can.” She pushed him back down. “And you will. Resting is the most important thing you can do. Your body has a fight on its hands. I’ll be at your beck and call, does that make it any better?”

Maybe…sort of…but it felt so backwards. He was her knight. Her protector.

Can’t protect her if I’m sick…

His mouth felt like sand. “Need…water.”

“Yes, my sweet.” She bent over and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Her fragrance filled his senses and the golden shadow between her breasts gave him life. He’d hang onto that, he decided. After he got through this, he’d bury his face in her cleavage and lick her nipples and tug moan after moan from her…

The plastic cup of water was at his lips. He sipped. Fell back. Whispered, “my sweet,” and fell asleep.

The next stretch of time was misery in its purest form. A blur of water, chicken broth, occasional Tylenol, sleep, sweat, cold washcloths, warm sponge baths, sleep, more sleep, and pain, so much pain in his eyes and head that he feared for his sanity.

The virus took form in his mind. He battled it in long silent rants, as if it were a sentient being trying to steal his wits. You won’t break me, he screamed at it. I will survive. He pictured it frozen in the tundra, lurking in the permafrost, plotting its revenge. We have doctors. We have smart people. We’ll figure you out the way we always do. We’re human with brains and we know how to use ‘em.

“I’m losing it,” he told Ani as he surfaced from a sweat-drenched vision of vast frozen territory with fur-wearing bands of people wandering across it. “I’m afraid.” So weak, so shaky.

“You’re doing great.” Her hand on his forehead felt so good. He closed his eyes and hung onto that comforting touch. “Believe it or not, your fever is down. How do your eyes feel?” She was tracking every symptom, writing it down in a little notebook. Where was she getting all this stuff? The Tylenol, the broth, the fresh towels and washcloths?

“About a five. Better than before. Worse than normal.”

“Better is good. Your body is doing what it needs to do to protect itself. All your little white blood cell soldiers are doing that Gil McGowan thing. You have your own bodyguards, imagine that.”

“And you,” he murmured weakly.

“And me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

In this weakened state, emotion got the best of him. He wanted her to mean forever. But of course she didn’t mean that. She was being a doctor right now. He might die without her, but that was because he had a virus, not because he was in love.

I’m in love.

This is love. This helpless, wonderful, giddy, tender, vulnerable, raw thing rampaging through his system…it was love. And as much as he might want to, he couldn’t fight it off the way his body was battling the virus.

In his less feverish moments, he rebuilt the logic of why he and Ani couldn’t be together. She was still recovering from the traumatic ending of her marriage. He was what she needed right now—physical release, a low-angst, no-drama, temporary kind of relationship. That was what she saw in him. Otherwise, she’d probably avoid him like the plague—like a virus, haha.

The last thing she probably wanted at this point in her life was another serious commitment. He must have seemed perfect for her, given his track record and what he’d told her about his love life.

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