Page 22 of A Lonely Road
I jogged to the side door and let myself into the house, fighting down the panic rising at the back of my throat while I rifled through the drawers. When I finally found the key, I sprinted back through the house, across the driveway, and up the stairs.
A twinge of guilt broke through the fog of my anxiety. Nora was an intensely private woman—forcing my way into the apartment felt wrong on a number of levels, but not as wrong as leaving her in there alone, hurt or bleeding or who knew what else.
I leaned my forehead against the door, called out, “Nora, I’m coming in,” and turned the key in the lock.
My gaze traveled frantically across the kitchen, anticipating blood splatters or signs of a struggle, but everything was tidy and undisturbed. That didn’t stop my imagination from running wild. I tossed the key onto the counter and moved to the living room, where I froze.
Nora’s phone was there on the low coffee table, along with a box of tissues, a half-empty mug of tea, and a bottle of cough syrup.
I took another step and located the woman herself, curled up on the loveseat.
All of my breath rushed out in a sigh of relief, until I saw that she was wrapped in a heavy blanket despite the heat of the day, her face ghostly pale except for brightly flushed cheeks that practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight.
“Oh, Christ. Nora? Can you hear me?”
I crouched down beside the loveseat to set a hand gently against her forehead. Her skin was burning hot, searing my palm. As I swore under my breath, wondering what the hell to do, her eyelids lifted drowsily and she blinked up at me, her dark gaze glassy and disoriented.
“Jake?” she whispered, squinting at the brightness of the room as she tried to focus her eyes on me.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry to barge in on you here, but you weren’t answering your phone. I was afraid you’d fallen or something.”
Gently, I smoothed her hair back from her face and smiled. She was in rough shape, but she was alive and uninjured. Istroked my palm over her fevered skin, silently berating myself for not checking on her sooner.
“I’m okay.”
“I mean this in the nicest possible way, Nora, but you look like hell and you’re burning up. There’s a clinic in town, I think maybe I should take you over there.”
“No!” The hoarse exclamation burst from her lips so quickly it surprised us both. She shook her head, burrowing deeper into her blanket, and mumbled, “No, I’m okay. I don’t need a doctor. Please, Jake, I just want to sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning, I’m sure.”
I studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’m going to carry you to your bed then, all right? Just relax, I’ve got you,” I murmured as I slid one arm beneath her knees and the other under her back to lift her, blanket and all. Her eyes drifted closed and didn’t open again even after I laid her on the bed, though she rolled onto her side and curled into a tight ball.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was muffled by the blanket she’d drawn up around her chin. “I couldn’t reach the phone.”
I eased down onto the bed beside her.If she were feeling better, she’d be kicking your ass,I warned myself, but it was no use. Seeing her like this tore me apart inside. Even when she was still twitchy around me after first moving in, she’d always been so vibrant, shining like a lantern in the dark.
This Nora seemed more like the faint flicker of a candle flame, weak and vulnerable.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said gently. “Can I get you more tea, or some broth maybe? Something for the fever?”
The questions went unanswered, and I realized she’d fallen back asleep. I could hardly bear to leave her side, but I forced myself to go into the kitchen and rifle through her cupboards, looking for soup but finding little more than dry cereal and packaged snacks. I drew my phone from my pocket and fired off a text to Sam.
Even if all I could do right now was keep an eye on Nora while she slept, I’d make damn sure I was ready to take care of her properly once she woke up.
An hour later, Sam dropped off several large containers of soup from The Mermaid and an assortment of cold medicine. The flowers had blown off the porch by the time I met her at the door, and I left Nora’s side only long enough to stick the containers in the fridge and set the medicine options out on the counter. Then I lay carefully back down on the bed, close but not quite touching her.
It took all of my willpower to resist the urge to gather her into my arms.
Just after midnight, Nora mumbled something that broke through my light doze. I reached out to stroke her hair, noting with relief that the fever didn’t seem to be running quite so high anymore, and she repeated it a bit more clearly.
“You should go. Might get you sick.”
I scoffed. “I’m healthy as a horse, Ms. Cassidy. I’ll pop some extra vitamin C, if it makes you happy, but I’m not leaving untilyou’re feeling better. Sam dropped off some soup from The Mermaid, do you think you could eat something?”
Though the bedside lamp was on, her eyes looked nearly black in the dim light. “I can try,” she whispered.
Her focus still seemed hazy, but I smiled at her before her eyes drifted closed again, then rolled off the bed, careful not to jar her. When I returned with the soup, I set it on one of the bedside tables and helped her sit up against the pillows.
“This might be easier if you weren’t wrapped up like a burrito,” I said with a grin.
