Page 64 of Wolf's Chance

Which was stupid. It was more likely that she would have no recollection of waking and drawing her little sketch.

Well, that’s what I convinced myself before sleep took over.

SEVENTEEN

Willow

When my ME got bad,properlybadbad, I could lose days to my bed, where the never-ending cycle of sleep, fatigue, aches, and pains never lessened. When the cycle began to break, there would be glimpses of light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes this break would be false hope, and the cycle would gain in intensity. Which this most recent spell seemed to be.

I was aware of Caleb during my bad spell. I knew he was there, but the brain fog and my exhausted state barely let me acknowledge him. My brain was sending signals to my body to let him know not to worry, but my receptors were going through a current mutiny and weren’t open to any correspondence.

I was awake in bed but hadn’t yet opened my eyes. I felt like shit, but I knew the difference between a ME attack and coming out of a ME attack. The room was silent, and I lay there feeling guilty because I knew I would have been an inconvenience to Caleb, and I felt guilty for taking a moment toappreciate the quiet of the room, the comfort of the bed and…the smell of fresh bread?

Opening my eyes, I looked around the room. Floral patterned wallpaper, white gauzy drapes hanging loose over a six panel sash window. Pushing myself up was an effort, but I managed, immediately looking at the floor. Thick-looking deep-pink plush carpet.

Caleb had said his friend was ahethat he was taking me to. I knew all about diversity and inclusion, but the person who decorated this room was a woman.

Pushing the covers off me, I tried to get up to find out where we were. I was in a T-shirt and panties. I didn’t even want to ask, but I knew if Caleb provoked me, I would.

Opening the door, I came face-to-face with a middle-aged couple coming out of the door opposite me. They were both well-dressed, and I registered the woman’s huff of disapproval at the same time as I saw the man’s appreciative look at my legs.

“Sorry!” Hastily shutting the door, I waited until the grumbling faded, and then hesitantly opened the door again. Seeing the number six on it, I closed it again.

I was in a bed and breakfast. Going back to the bed, I searched for a note from Caleb to tell me what was happening. Surely he’d left one? When I found nothing, I searched for my jeans.

The door opened and, turning swiftly, I saw Caleb running his eyes over me. Conscious of my bare legs, I jumped on the bed, scrambling under the covers.

Shooting me a quizzical look, Caleb frowned. “What’s wrong with you? You see a bug?”

“Where are we? Where’s my clothes?”

“We’re at a B&B. Your jeans are drying in the bathroom. How are you feeling?” Caleb leaned against the door as he watched me.

“Um…I feel okay.” I saw his look. “Okay, I feel a bit wrung out still, but it’s to be expected. How long have I been down? Two days?” I guessed.

“Three.” He checked his watch. “You think you could eat?” When I nodded, he opened the other door, which I guessed was the bathroom. Leaning in, he came back out with my jeans. Caleb scrunched the waistband a few times. “Feel dry.” He tossed them onto the bed. “I’ll ask Shelby if she’ll hold on before she shuts down breakfast.”

“Shelby?”

“Owner, real nice woman.” He was watching me again. “Five minutes?” When I nodded, he flashed a brief smile. “Good. See you down there.” He’d just left when the door opened again, and he popped his head around the door. “Oh, forgot to say, if anyone asks, you’re my wife, okay?” When I stared at him mutely, he seemed to take that for acceptance. “Great. Five minutes, remember.”

“I’m his what now?” For the second time, I got out of bed. Picking my jeans up, I took them back to the bathroom, taking it all in as I freshened up. My toiletry bag was spread around the counter and in the shower cubicle. The counter beside the sink and the shower tray hadmythings. The only thing I could see that belonged to Caleb was the handheld toothbrush sitting in a plastic cup with a half-empty tube of toothpaste beside it.

Washing my hands, I noticed my hair was clean if not a little flat. My skin, while deathly white, looked nourished.

“He washed me?” Baring my teeth, I inspected them, andthen holding my hand up in front of my face, I exhaled. Stale breath, not rancid, but still, not three days’ worth.

Pulling my jeans on, I quickly brushed my hair and then my teeth. From my tote, I shook out a T-shirt and quickly changed. After finding a hair tie, I put my hair in a ponytail. That took a lot out of me, and I rested my head against the door as the room swam a little. Grabbing my notebook, I noted I’d had a three-day attack and closed it again. I would get more information out of Caleb. When I was steady, I opened the door only to step back when Caleb appeared at the top of the stairwell.

“Thought you may want a hand,” he explained as he approached. “Stairs are a little steep.”

“You washed me?” I asked him in a low voice.

“Sponge bed bath.” He looked at me and then the stairs. “How do you want to do this? Me first so if you fall, you land on something soft? Or you first so if you fall, I can grab you?”

“Tell me they don’t believe you’re married to me.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Caleb ran his hand over his hair. “It’s believable.”

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