“Yeah, we’re pretty isolated out here,” Dr. Lyons said with a small smile. “Luckily for you and your wife, there are quite a few of us medical professionals who live in town. Where’s the patient?”
“She’s right over here,” I said, leading her to the couch where Jasmine lay motionless. Dr. Lyons immediately got to work, pulling various tools and gadgets from her bag. I stood off to the side, feeling utterly helpless as she poked and prodded Jasmine, her expression calm but focused.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Lyons approached me, holding a tablet she was tapping on. “Is she going to be okay?” I blurted out before she could say a word.
“How long has she been out?” she asked, glancing between me and the screen.
“I don’t know. Maybe thirty or forty minutes,” I said, then immediately corrected myself when I glanced at my watch. “I’m sorry, it’s only been about fifteen minutes. It felt so much longer.”
“I understand.” She offered me a reassuring smile. “I checked her vitals. Her blood pressure and pulse are slightly elevated, but that’s most likely due to dehydration. She’s breathing fine. Her pupils are equal and responsive.”
“So what’s wrong with her?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Her temperature is elevated,” Dr. Lyons explained, “so I suspect she caught a cold while she was out looking for the dog in the rain. How long was she out there?”
“About twelve hours,” I admitted, each word heavy with guilt.
Dr. Lyons let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’d do it. Add stress to that, and you have a recipe for this.” She gestured to Jasmine.“The best thing to do is to make her as comfortable as possible. Get her out of those damp clothes and into bed. Hopefully, she’ll come to soon and we can get some fluids into her.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Dread curled in my stomach.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” she said firmly, packing up her tools.
I nodded and carefully scooped Jasmine into my arms. Her body felt fragile, and her skin was still too warm. Tora followed close behind, his concerned whine the only sound as I carried her to the bedroom. I laid her gently on the bed, and Tora immediately hopped up beside her, curling into a protective ball at her side. His head rested on his paws, his sharp eyes watching my every move, as if daring me to leave her alone.
I began peeling off her damp workout clothes, my fingers trembling as I worked. Her skin was cold and clammy under my touch, and I found myself murmuring desperate prayers under my breath, promising anything to anyone who might be listening if they’d just let her be okay. I tried not to think about how she’d react to this—if she wanted to wake up and slap me, I’d gladly accept it. Anything would be better than seeing her like this.
Once she was out of the wet clothes, I rummaged through the dresser and found a soft tank top and a pair of pajama pants. I was halfway through dressing her when she stirred.
“Derek,” she whispered, her voice so faint I almost missed it.
“Yes, Jasmine.” I leaned closer. “I’m here. I’m here.”
She let out a soft moan and relaxed against the pillows. I finished dressing her and called Dr. Lyons back into the room.Eleanor followed close behind, her expression a mix of concern and determination. I decided to give them space and stepped out, though I hesitated at the door.
“Come on, Tora.” I hoped he’d follow me.
The dog didn’t budge. Instead, he let out a low growl, his gaze fixed on Jasmine. It was his way of saying he wasn’t going anywhere, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. I knew exactly how he felt.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jasmine
The world was still black, and someone was still calling my name, but the voice wasn’t Derek’s. It was soft, feminine, and unfamiliar. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself lying in my bedroom, staring into the concerned faces of Eleanor Pike and another woman. The stranger looked to be around my age, with kind eyes and a calm demeanor, but I had no idea who she was. The sharp, acrid smell of something unpleasant filled my nose, jolting me further awake.
“Hi, Jasmine,” the woman said in a low, sweet voice. “I’m Dr. Lyons.” She held up a small bottle, the source of the invasive smell that had forced me back to consciousness.
“Doctor?” My brow furrowed as I blinked at her and Eleanor, my confusion growing. I shifted my gaze to Eleanor, hoping for answers.
“Well,” Eleanor began, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, “spending hours in the pouring rain in nothing butspandex, and then not eating or drinking for more than a day, has caught up to you.” She offered me a gentle smile. “Derek called David in a panic. I swear if we had gotten here a minute later, he was going to carry you to the nearest hospital.” She chuckled softly. “The nearest hospital is twenty miles away.” I barely registered her setting a tray on my lap containing a large bowl and spoon, while I tried to process her words.
Derek. Panic. The two ideas didn’t compute. Derek was unflappable, always composed and in control. The thought of him pacing and panicking over me? Impossible. Yet here I was, staring at Eleanor as she recounted a story that seemed more fiction than fact.
“Why am I in my pajamas?” My voice was weak and raspy. Peeking under the covers, I confirmed that I was no longer in my damp, gross workout clothes but instead dressed in one of my cotton pajama sets.
“We let your husband change you,” Dr. Lyons replied matter-of-factly, her calm tone at odds with the bombshell she’d just dropped.
Derek had changed me. My cheeks burned at the thought, but I was too tired—and, admittedly, too comfortable—to let embarrassment settle in.
