Page 14 of A Forgotten Heart
She couldn’t form the words to repeat what Nick had said.“He didn’t seem to remember we’d just had a fight. A—a horrible row.”
“I’ve seen tricky head wounds before. Memories can be lost for a period of time. It means there’s swelling inside the skull…”
The serious look the doctor cast toward her knotted her stomach.
“Will he—will he be all right?”
“It’s important he doesn’t move around, jar his head again. If he thinks you’re on friendly terms, you should be on friendly terms. Keep him still.”
She wanted to call after the doctor as he moved toward the door. He made Nick’s head wound sound dangerous.
On the threshold, the doctor looked back, black bag in hand and hat pulled low over his eyes. “Whatever you do, don’t let him get up and walk around.”
And then the door closed behind him.
Elsie wanted to run after him. Instead, she hurried to the window and scanned the barren street, the spare shirt still clutched in her hands.
The storm had thickened. Of course no one would be out and about. If only someone else could take charge and keep Nick safe. Someone more qualified than her.
But there was no one.
The whitewashed walls shrank in around her, swirling and combining with the white outside.
Friendly terms. She and Nick hadn’t been on friendly terms in years.
But they were stranded. Nowhere to go. No help to turn to. Nick’s well-being rested solely in her hands.
Oh, what was she going to do?
“Nick. Wake up.”
Elsie’s dulcet tone reached deep beneath the murky depths of his consciousness and beckoned him toward the surface. But each time he rose closer to where she was, a sharp pain pierced his head, and he relented to the heaviness.
He didn’t know the darkness, but he knew Elsie. Sensed she was nearby.
Some time must’ve passed.
“Nick?”
Nick struggled to emerge from the suffocating darkness. Elsie was calling for him.
But the closer to the surface he came, the greater the pain.
A hand rested on his forearm, warmth against his bare skin. Somehow it soothed the throb in his head.
A faint whiff of lilac met his nose, reminding him of spring and new beginnings.
His lids fluttered open. Even the dim light pierced his temple, and he bit back a groan.
Next to him sat the unfocused image of a woman, dabbing his forehead with a damp cloth. Her lips moved silently. Was she praying? Crying?
Elsie.
His pulse steadied. Her presence flooded a sense of safety over him, and he allowed himself to sink back into oblivion.
Little by little, the pain in his head returned as he awoke again.
Where was Elsie? She was the one thing that had anchored him over the past hours…days?
