Page 31 of Madly Deeply

Callum was in no hurry to let go of her, so she stayed with him as they stumble-stepped through the automatic doors. She tried to imagine it was Spreag's hand firmly, gently gripping her, but she failed. Callum was too big and present to ignore. And the guilt that followed made her heartsick.

"Almost there," she said.

His breathing came faster. He was trying so hard to be tough.

Thankfully, the ER wasn't busy. They took one look at the big Scotsman in nothing but a pair of boxers and realized the emergency must be dire. They whisked him straight back and the registration nurse had to follow along with a clipboard full of forms. Alexandra held back, thinking it best if she gave him his privacy, but he stopped suddenly and turned to find her. "Ye wouldnae leave a fellow Scot to his doom now, would ye love?" When she caught up and let him take her hand, his heavy sigh of relief told her he was barely holding it together. And maybe her support would keep him from crying outright.

Poor guy.

The doctor, a woman in her fifties who was far too cheerful for two o-clock in the morning, confirmed the second-degree burn and immediately ordered a shot of morphine for the patient. Alex felt even worse when she saw his back in the bright light of the exam room. The skin was red, swollen, blistered, and wet. No wonder he felt like a frog. A redheaded frog in excruciating pain.

"You're lucky the damage didn't go further than the dermis," the doctor told him. "The severe pain is due to so many pain receptors in those layers. In some cases, skin grafting is required, but not this time, unless you get a serious infection. But to avoid that, I'm prescribing some antibiotic cream your wife will need to apply for you."

Alex didn't correct her and let her continue with the rest of the instructions. She doubted Callum would remember a word of it.

"And keep him hydrated, watch for fever."

"How long will he be in pain?"

"A week, maybe. But it will lesson after a couple of days. I'm giving him a script for two different meds. Don't let him have both at the same time. One is for gummies. He shouldn't be left alone until he's down to just Tylenol. The nurse will give you the prescriptions when you leave. The hospital pharmacy is open all night. And there’s a drop box at the dispensary next door. If you leave it, along with your phone number and address, they’ll deliver it tomorrow."

The morphine shot worked quickly, and she was so relieved when Callum finally stopped whimpering and sucking on his teeth, she worried she would be a terrible mother. Just the thought of her baby being in pain terrified her. Someone told her once that all kids end up in the emergency room from time to time, and that scared her even more.

The middle of the night is no time to think about those things.

On the way home, Callum was quiet but he still had to lean forward. The paper gown they'd given him to wear home threatened to tear into a half dozen pieces, but she'd already seen him in less. He wasn't as fit as Duncan Houser but respectable. Not as soft as Shug Buchanon. More like...Spreag, though because of his height their bodies were much different. Not only did Callum have much paler skin, he also had that big red smile on his lower back.

She laughed silently as she pulled into her neighborhood and hoped her husband would see some humor in the situation she was about to explain.

"Ye'll be right glad to get me off yer hands," Callum said quietly, trying for levity.

"Oh, no. Not on your life. I know you'd like to suffer in private, but you can't be left alone. I don't know if you remember any of what the doctor said, but I do. You need pain meds, and you can't be left alone while you're on them."

"I can hire a nurse."

"24/7? No one can afford that. You're just going to have to stay in my guest bedroom so I can keep an eye on you. Besides, you can't put that cream on yourself. Or change your bandages. Or be trusted to dole out your pain meds when you're out of your head."

"To be honest, my bum's oot the windae at the moment, or I would argue--"

"Yeah, don't bother. I gotchu. Spreag and I...I mean, my house is your house for the next few days."

Alex just hoped the morphine kept him from catching her giant blunder!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Callum needed support walking to his door. His heavy arm went around Alex's shoulders and she ignored how easily she slid under it along with the solid warmth of his ribs against her.

Spreag was still missing in action as she led the big Scot to the guest room. She propped him against the door while she moved the pile of decorative pillows and turned down the bed so he could lay on his stomach.

"Behind that door is a half bath. The other is the closet. Try not to get them mixed up."

He laughed. then he gave her a wink and nodded. It wasn't terribly reassuring, so she made a mental note to point out the bathroom again, later.

"It's five o'clock now. I'll leave you alone until your next dose at seven. I'm going to bring you a bell. So, if you need help getting up, or anything at all, you ring it. I don't care if you ring it in two minutes, if you need help, you ring. Understand?"

"Bell. Aye. I understand."

Alex returned a minute later with her grandma's dinner bell and sat it on the nightstand within easy reach of long arms. She paused to listen to him breathing and heard the gentle, steady purring of a kitten. She was still laughing to herself when she pulled the door closed and came face to face with her husband's ghost.

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