Page 27 of Unpacking Secrets
Eleven
Juliet
ThoughIfeltlikea kindergartner with a skinned knee, I submitted to Libby’s very thorough inspection as graciously as I could. She wrapped my injured wrist in an elastic bandage, swabbed what must have been a few dozen scratches with antiseptic, checked a number of bruises across my back and shoulders, and probed the area around my aching kneecap as gently as possible.
“Henry's text said you walked pretty far from where you fell,” she said, setting an ice pack on my knee. “You’ll need to take it easy for a few days, maybe a week, but I think you’ll heal up just fine if you rest it. Doctor’s orders. Please, for the love of god, be a better patient than Henry Walker.”
I couldn’t hold back a grin at the doctor’s admonition—I could just imagine what a pain in the ass Henry would be if he were the one all banged up.
“I promise I will not go hiking again anytime soon. Or ever again, really. The shine has definitely worn off. I’m thinking about taking up needlepoint instead.”
Libby laughed. When she moved to inspect my forehead, she hummed in approval at Henry's first aid work. Her concussion check was a bit more in-depth than his, but she seemed fairly confident that I would survive. After applying two butterfly bandages to close the wound, she stepped back to study her handiwork.
“I would really like to run some more tests to be sure you don’t have a concussion,” she said, dark eyes locking on mine, “but that would involve heading over to the hospital.”
My entire body tensed at the words. I would never forget the hospital room where my mother spent her final days, that antiseptic smell and the buzz and beep of machinery. If Sarah found out I was hospitalized, she would probably jump on the next flight back to the States—and I wasn’t sure I’d even try to stop her. Being alone in a hospital was one of my worst nightmares.
“I’d rather not,” I said quietly.
Libby smiled as though she understood completely, though I wasn’t sure if it was because she knew about my mother’s illness or just because she was a perceptive woman.
“I didn’t think so. Is there anyone you can stay with? It’d be best if someone could keep an eye on you throughout the night, at least.”
Oh, shit.
“Um. I don’t really know anybody in Spruce Hill all that well,” I admitted.
Much like my realization that no one in town would mourn me if I’d never come out of those woods, the words threatened to lodge hard in the center of my chest.
“I’ll stay with her,” Henry said from the doorway.
My gaze shot toward him, my lips parting in surprise as his offer sank in. He was leaning one hip against the frame, looking handsome and utterly at ease. Clearly traipsing through the woods hadn’t damaged his aesthetic as much as it had mine.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I began, but Libby shot me a stern look, so I mumbled, “The spare bedroom isn’t really set up for company yet.”
Henry's mouth quirked at the corners and my pulse kicked up right along with it.
“I can take the couch. Or you’re more than welcome to stay at my place, if you’d prefer,” he added, blinking innocently back at me.
I tried to think of a good excuse—hell,anyexcuse—but nothing came to mind. Libby smiled brightly, blatantly ignoring the swift rise of tension between us.
“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll get you some things to take home,” she said, stepping aside as Henry moved forward to help me down.
With me still seated on the exam table, we were nearly eye to eye, close enough for me to count the golden flecks in his irises. His body radiated warmth, along with a hint of that damn scent again, and it seeped into my own limbs. As he waited for me to make the first move, he studied me as intently as I was studying him—searching for weakness, maybe, or for confirmation that our uneasy truce was still in effect.
After a moment of silence, I laid the ice pack aside and grudgingly set my palms on his shoulders so he could lift me down. The uncomfortable silence stretched as my left side slid slowly down the length of Henry's body before my feet hit the floor.
“Um,” I said, avoiding his gaze as long as possible.
When I finally glanced up at him, that same little smile was playing across his lips and a lock of dark hair had fallen across his forehead. I couldn’t remember ever being so tongue-tied around a man in my entire life and was somewhat disgusted with myself over it.
“What about Blue?” I asked weakly.
“I dropped her off with Libby’s husband, Mark. They’ll keep her for the night, she’ll be fine. We picked up your car, too, and parked it back at the cottage. I brought something for you,” he said, his hand firm under my elbow as we exited the room. My backpack sat on a chair near the front door. “I found the camera, it’s inside the bag. I searched all over the clearing but I didn’t see a sketchbook anywhere, I’m afraid. It might have fallen into the underbrush somewhere. I hope it didn’t contain anything irreplaceable?”
“Nothing I can’t recreate from the photos. How on earth did you get out there and back so quickly?” I asked, baffled.
Henry gave me a strange look. “You’ve been here for over an hour, Juliet. It’s almost six.”
