“Off we go.” The bed began to roll, triggering a wave of nausea and panic.
“Hannah,” he bellowed.
A soft hand patted his shoulder. “Relax, hon. She’s not going anywhere. She made that clear with some choice words to the intake nurse. Now, hush, before the doc orders sedation.” Lights flashed by overhead, fading to darkness again. Surrendering to sleep felt so damn good.
Dozing in the world’s most uncomfortable plastic chair, Hannah woke to a gentle poke and the sound of her name. A fifty-something nurse with wide hips and a sweet smile beckoned. “Your friend is awake and asking for you. Come on back.”
Heart slamming her ribs, she sprang up and followed through swinging doors, down a corridor lined with medical equipment and gurneys, to Room 14. Dimly, she registered surprise that Trappers Cove’s little hospital even had that many rooms.
The nurse knocked softly. “Xander, someone to see you.”
A muffled, masculine grunt came from inside.
“I’m glad you’re here, hon,” the nurse told her. “His family’s up in Seattle, and he didn’t want us to call them.” She swept the door open with one hand and sailed into the room.
Timidly, Hannah followed and braced herself. After the terrible accident she’d indirectly caused with her meddling, she was astonished he’d even deign to speak to her, much less let her see him in this vulnerable state.
The nurse fiddled with his IV line, then stepped aside, revealing a sight so horrible Hannah had to jam a fist in her mouth to stifle a gasp.
Dark bruises mottled his face, arms and hands—and probably the rest of him hidden beneath his hospital gown and thin blanket. His left eye was swollen shut in a wicked shiner, and a swath of hair had been shaved above his left temple for the row of stitches there. His left leg wore an inflated air cast and rested on a pillow.
“Hi,” he rasped and waggled the fingers resting on his chest.
“Oh, Xander.” She lurched toward him, but the nurse gripped her elbow.
“No hugs. He’s got three cracked ribs.” She squinted into Hannah’s face. “You’re white as a sheet, hon. Here, you better sit.”
Good thing the nurse had such sharp eyes, because Hannah broke out in a queasy cold sweat at the sight of him lying pale and battered on that narrow hospital bed. Pretty hard to beg forgiveness when you’re passed out on the floor. She let the nurse ease her into a chair beside Xander’s bed.
He scanned her face with his good eye and croaked, “You…rescued me?”
She wiped her tear-streaked cheeks. “No, the firefighters and EMTs did that. I just showed them where you were.”
“Hannah.” He reached out his hand, a gesture that broke her heart afresh because she didn’t deserve tenderness after nearly getting him killed. “You should’ve waited outside. You could’ve died in there.”
“Seems we’ve got a standoff,” the nurse remarked with a chuckle. “The doc will be in shortly.”
With a grunt, Xander pushed up onto his elbow. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“Nothing major. A few sprains and such from the stampede.” The nurse gave a wry smile. “I saw the footage on FriendBook. To say you were lucky is the understatement of the year. Someone must be watching out for you two. Now then—” She set down her tablet, her expression all business. “Xander will need to stay at least forty-eight hours for observation. Afterward, he’ll be groggy from pain meds. He’ll need someone to look after him.”
He rumpled his brow in a sheepish gesture, then winced. Damn, those stitches had to hurt.
Hannah straightened her shoulders. “I’ll stay with him.” When Xander started to protest, she added, “This is my fault, and I’ll do what I can to fix it.”
The nurse tilted her head. “Your fault? How?”
“It’s complicated. Let’s focus on what Xander needs.”
The doctor, a petite woman with a brusque manner, bustled in holding a tablet. She peppered Xander with questions, then turned to Hannah. “You’re going to be his caretaker?”
She nodded grimly. “Tell me what to do.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll supply you with detailed care instructions when he’s discharged.” With a conspiratorial grin, the doc hooked a thumb toward Xander and whispered, “Will he cooperate? Or is he stubborn?”
“Not as stubborn as me.”
That earned her a laugh from the medical crew.