Page 12 of Asher

“Hey, Asher.” Judy Mortimer rolled in the wheelchair he’d requested when he’d greeted her earlier. “Hi, Marlowe, I’m Judy Mortimer, and I’ll be your nurse today. How are you feeling?”

“Hi, Judy. I’m okay, I guess.”

“Just okay? Then we must be doing something wrong. Let me check your stats before you leave. How’s your head?” Judy whipped the stethoscope from her neck and clipped an oximeter on Marlowe’s finger. “This won’t take long. Hmmm… heart sounds good. No temp. Your oxygen sat is excellent. Can’t get better than ninety-nine percent, can we?”

“A hundred would be nice,” Marlowe murmured.

“Yes, and you’re close to that, aren’t you? I still need to know how your head feels. You have a serious concussion, and you absolutely have to take things easy until you’re okayed for PT. Especially with that repaired retina. No strenuous activity, get plenty of rest, and for Pete’s sake, no falling. Any pain, dizziness, or feeling like you’re going to faint or need to throw up?”

Marlowe shook her head slightly. “Not today. Libby took me for a walk earlier, in a walker. Made me feel like an old lady. Does that count?”

“Ah, ah, ah, none of that now. You aren’t old, but you are recovering from getting too close to Death’s door. How’s your shoulder pain. Bearable?”

Marlowe nodded. “Yes, can I take the sling off now?”

“Nope, not until Libby says you can. Same goes for the eye patch. But don’t worry, you’re a fast healer and you’ll be out of here in no time.” Judy looked sternly at Asher. “You are taking her to the barn, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, relieved to hear how normal Marlowe’s stats were.

“Well, pick a good one.”

“Does Harley raise any bad ones?”

Judy looped the stethoscope back around her neck. “No, he doesn’t, but compatibility is key. Ah, why am I telling you that? You’ll know the moment you see the right one. Now let’s get WW here on her feet and on her way. Time’s a wasting.” She tugged the oximeter off Marlowe’s finger.

“WW?” Marlowe asked.

“Yup, the staff nicknamed youWonder Woman, so don’t be surprised if their kids ask for your autograph.”

“Why?”

“Because you survived the Taliban, honey. Ready?”

“I’m pretty sure Marlowe was born ready, right?” Asher asked, as Judy unhooked the IV from Marlowe’s arm and helped her up and into a thick, long, blue robe that covered her from her neck to toes. Marlowe tugged her beanie farther down over her ears.A spiffy pair of gray socks with bright yellow rubber dots on the soles went on her feet next.

Once Asher had Marlowe settled in the wheelchair, he told Judy, “We won’t be long.”

“Good, but don’t wear her out. Recuperation requires energy she still doesn’t have. If she’s not back here by noon, I’ll come looking for you.” Judy pretty much treated all agents like she did her twin boys. She was bossy, and she meant what she said, but she was also a devoted caregiver.

“Yes, ma’am,” Asher said, saluting smartly. He wheeled Marlowe down the hallway to the elevator, giving her a quick tour of this portion of TEAM Headquarters as they went.

“You have an ICU here? Why?”

He leaned over her shoulder as they rolled past the two vacant ICU rooms into the waiting elevator. “Those are fairly new. We didn’t need that level of care until someone tried to kill Kelsey last fall. After that, the on-site medical unit and the multiple-level basement made sense. My boss is your typical Type A personality, so he went overboard and added an intensive care unit. But I’ve got to hand it to him, the man’s got foresight.”

“Hmmm, I’d like to meet him someday.”

“I can arrange that, especially if you’re planning to meet his wife. Kelsey’s one of the women Libby was talking about. I think you’ll like them, but Kelsey’s special. You just wait. She’s going to love you.” Asher hit the up button for the ground level. In seconds he was pushing Marlowe into TEAM HQ’s lobby. “Hey Paige,” he called to the receptionist at the customer service desk opposite the floor-to-ceiling glass entrance doors.

“Oh, my goodness, is that our very ownWonder Woman? Wait up.” Like a woman on a mission, Paige Royal scooted around her twenty-foot-long desk and ran to greet Marlowe.

Asher hadn’t thought to warn Marlowe that Paige was a hugger. The poor thing went statue-stiff when Paige’s arms wrapped around her, sling and all. Paige didn’t seem to notice she was smothering Marlowe, or that Marlowe wasn’t responding in kind. Not until Asher coughed politely and whispered, “Back off, Paige. Sometimes less is more.”

“Oh, well, sure. So how are you doing WW? Do you need anything? A big-screen TV? Your own personal refrigerator? Your bracelets?” Paige giggled. She was overly enthusiastic, and Marlowe probably didn’t even know or care what a big screen was, not the way she arched away from Paige.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see your sling. Did I hug you too hard?” Paige asked, still set on hyper-friendly, while Marlowe radiated a definite get-the-hell-away-from-me vibe.

“Geez, Paige, she’s still healing. Give her a little room,” Asher teased. He knew then he needed to get the word out to all TEAM personnel to give Marlowe space when they met her. To respect her comfort zone, no matter how large it might end up being. In Paige’s case, a few feet would’ve worked better than this effusive, too-close-for-comfort welcome.

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