The Nememiah Chronicles Collection

Chapter 5

The first thing I became aware of was the acute pain in my head; a pounding that gave me the impression there was an ice pick wedged in the back of my skull. I groaned, trying to forge a pathway through thought patterns that seemed padded by copious amounts of cotton wool. I"d assumed being dead would be far less painful. I"d seen a vision of an angel; surely, that meant I had finally succeeded and left the mortal world? Raising a shaky hand to my head, I discovered a huge lump on the back of my skull. Rubbing my fingers across it thoughtfully, I considered why it was there in the afterlife. I"d always believed life after death existed, but I figured I would arrive without any injuries. Something didn"t seem quite right here. A tiny moan escaped my lips as my skull pulsated with another burst of throbbing pain.

“Charlotte? Can you hear me?” The deep voice was composed and gravelly and I recognized it. This was the angel, who"d leaned over me after I was hit by the car. Opening one eye hesitantly, followed by the other, I flinched at the brightness of the fluorescent lights overhead, until my sight adjusted in slow increments.

My breath caught in my throat – it was the angel. He stood a few feet from the bed, his stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his eyes focused on mine. He was the most handsome man I"d ever seen, although clearly not a real angel, as I assumed they didn"t wear snug black jeans and casual grey sweaters, which stretched across nicely muscular chests. I didn"t know whether I was disappointed over this sudden comprehension of his humanity. His eyes were still mesmerizing, even from a distance I could see those unique silver streaks, flashing like lightning in a darkened sky.

was“Charlotte?” He repeated my name patiently, and I heard a hint of some emotion in his tone. Concern?

“Am I dead?”

He raised an eyebrow in question as his full lips curled into an easy smile, and my heart skipped a beat, something I"d thought it was well beyond doing. “No, of course not. You"re very much alive.”

“Oh.” Shutting my eyes, I ran my fingers over the bump on my head as I considered this revelation. Obviously, the pain was explained. I"d failed – again.

“You sound disappointed.” While his voice remained composed, I heard the curiosity in his tone. His gaze was piercing as he appraised me thoughtfully.

I shook my head, attempting to gather my thoughts. “Where am I?” I queried.

“Puckhaber Hospital.”

I struggled to sit up, trying to get out of the bed. “What? I"ve got to get out of here.” The last thing I needed was a massive medical bill, when I had no insurance. My head pounded when I moved and a firm hand pushed me back against the pillows, despite my best efforts to fight against it.

What“You are not capable of going anywhere. You have a nasty concussion.”

“You don"t understand! I can"t afford to stay here! I don"t have insurance.”

He shook his head, clearly bemused. “You cannot possibly think that"s important right now. Besides, I ran you over. The very least I can do is cover your medical expenses.”

I slumped against the pillows, staring at him in open confusion. “You were driving the car?” Somewhere in my befuddled mind, the man and the angel were still hopelessly intermingled.

YouAn amused smile curled the corners of his lips. “Yes, I was. It seems an introduction would be in order. My name is Lucas Tine.”

“Charlotte Duncan…” Comprehension dawned, and I eyed him suspiciously, wondering who this man really was and what he was doing here. Living alone for so long, fending for myself, made me naturally cautious with strangers. Particularly strange men – even extremely handsome ones like this guy. “Wait a second. You already knew my name.”

Those sparkling navy blue eyes narrowed and he glanced away for a split-second before he regained his composure. “Of course,” he responded smoothly, “you told me after the accident.”

I shook my head firmly, the painful pounding amplified by the small motion. “I know I didn"t.”

“Of course you told me your name, Charlotte. You have concussion, you"re confused right now.” Lucas"s voice was gently reassuring, but I didn"t believe him. I was positive I hadn"t told him anything. I stared at him suspiciously, and he returned the stare, his expression impassive and giving nothing away. I finally blinked, wondering whether the concussion could have confused me to such an extent. I was stubborn enough to think it hadn"t, but my head hurt so badly, I wasn"t capable of putting up much of an argument.

“Where"s my car?” I demanded, changing the subject. I"d left it parked in Main Street and whilst Puckhaber Falls was hardly the car-jacking capital of the world, I didn"t like the idea of the car being left out there. I loved my Volkswagen dearly, and it was my only form of transport, as tragic as it was. The last thing I needed was for it to be stolen, even if the possibility was remote.

“Relax. Hank from the art store heard about the accident and recognized your… vehicle in the street.” I detected a trace of derision in his voice as he spoke, caught the tiny hesitation. “He arranged to bring it to the hospital, it is parked right outside, and the keys are in the drawer beside you.”

“What"s wrong with my car?” I demanded irritably, annoyed by his tone. To an outsider, my car probably looked like crap with the faded red paint, the splits in the upholstery, the rust in the hood. But it was mine, and I loved it.

“Nothing. It does look a little worn out though.”

“That car has gotten me halfway around the country,” I replied curtly. “They built them to last in the sixties.”

He had the audacity to look amused and his eyes twinkled. “If I have offended you, I apologize sincerely.”

My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest, even as I glared at him. It was a peculiar feeling, given that my heart had been lying lifeless for two years. He was clearly the most handsome man I"d ever seen in my life. No – more than handsome – he was striking. Impossibly gorgeous. Perfect pale skin, immaculate dark brown hair, a body suited to a model – everything about him was incredibly attractive. And even from across the room, I could smell that aroma, which was reminiscent of every favorite scent I"d ever savored—

He glanced at the door. “You have visitors,” he announced quietly. “I must go. It was a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte. Goodbye.”

He vanished through the door and I stared after his retreating back, stunned by his sudden declaration and rapid departure. The lingering scent was the only sign he"d been here, and in my pain-induced confusion, the question of whether he was an angel crossed my mind again.

The door opened again, seconds after Lucas"s departure and I struggled to reclaim my composure as visitors arrived. Lonnie Stewart, Maude Yeardley, and Hank Lucas from the art store trooped in, Maude carrying a bouquet of bright flowers, which she deposited on the bedside cabinet. She leaned over and kissed my cheek, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze as she straightened up. “You gave us quite a scare, honey.”

“Was that Lucas Tine I saw in the corridor?” Lonnie queried cheerfully. Her eyes were filled with curiosity – and shining admiration. “Wow, I wish he"d hit me with his car, if that"s what it takes to get his attention.” Away from the Quikmart, Lonnie was wearing black jeans and a snug blue t-shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders and held back from her face by a delicate silver headband.

“Now, Lonnie, Lucas feels just terrible about what happened,” Hank scolded her gruffly. His brown eyes were intense as he carefully studied my head, before giving my arm an awkward pat. “The girls in this town are all crazy about that young man, and they all get "ornery because he doesn"t show the slightest interest in "em.”

“Mike reckons he"s gay,” Lonnie muttered, pouting at Hank"s gentle rebuke.

“Mike Young ought to keep his opinions to himself,” Maude responded tartly. “For goodness sake, the rumors I hear about that young man, and he"s never anything but respectful to everyone. Keeps to himself, too. Not like some of the other young men around here, drinking and getting wild, causing trouble for Sheriff Davis and his men.”

“So, how"re you feeling?” Lonnie asked, hastily changing the subject. “You know, if you didn"t want to come to the cookout, you could have just said so. You didn"t need to go get yourself run over, to get out of it.” Her eyes sparkled with humor, her smile friendly.

“I"m okay.” I smiled bashfully, aware that Lonnie didn"t know how close to the truth she was. “A bit of a headache, but I"m fine.”

“It"s a good thing Lucas was driving so slow, reckons he was only doing about twenty miles an hour. Even at that speed, you"re lucky he"s such an excellent driver and can stop that fancy car of his on a dime,” Hank announced. He leaned against the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Shutting my eyes briefly, I replayed the accident in my mind. There was no doubt Lucas Tine had been driving much faster than twenty miles an hour, probably closer to fifty. Why did he lie about it, and how had he stopped so quickly? I should definitely be dead, or at the very least, badly maimed. Yet I only had a bump on my head. It didn"t make sense.

“You should come to my house and stay a few days when you get out of hospital, honey. I saw Doctor Harding when you were admitted; he says you"ll have a headache for a few days yet. I"m not working over the weekend, and I"d love you to stay with me,” Maude suggested, settling on the chair beside the bed. She was dressed informally, in black trousers and a dark red cowl-necked sweater, a heavy gold pendant around her throat. She looked youthful without the realtor uniform and I mentally adjusted my perception of her age. When we first met, I"d thought she was in her late fifties, but with her hair loose around her face and the less structured clothing, I estimated she was a decade younger.

Struggling with still-fuzzy thoughts, I took a moment to compose a response, which would be polite, but still firmly decline her offer. This was another complication, which I didn"t need. “Um, thanks, Maude. I"ll think about it, see how I"m feeling when I"m released,” I mumbled. The last thing I wanted, was to stay at Maude"s home and get to know her any better than I already did. “Thank you for the offer though,” I added, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

“I"ve got good news for you, Lott – your painting sold yesterday.” Hank handed me an envelope, with my name scrawled across the flap. He was grinning, the skin around his blue eyes crinkled. “Got the full asking price, two hundred dollars. The guy who bought it was very keen, thought it was a wonderful piece. He was blown away by your talent. I"ve put the landscape on display in the window, and we"ll see how that goes.”

I peeked into the envelope, both relieved and happy to have some cash flowing in. Two hundred dollars would be a good start towards getting an armchair and snow chains. I smiled at Hank, still clenching the envelope in my hand. “Thank you.”

“No – thank you. You really are a talented artist, Lottie. I was talking to Lonnie on the way in tonight, and she says you aren"t planning to attend college. Maybe you should though, they have an excellent arts program up there,” Hank urged.

youI was saved from composing another awkward reply when a nurse walked in, her voice crisp and business-like. “Sorry folks, but visiting hours are just about over for tonight.”

My new friends said their goodbyes, and when they"d left the room, the nurse checked my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. She was a few years older than me, with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a bright smile. “How"s the head?”

“Aching,” I admitted, which was somewhat of an understatement, as it was currently pounding.

“You sustained a very hard knock. Split the back of your head open, there"s a dozen stitches in there.” She poured a glass of water and handed it over, along with a small paper cup. “I have painkillers and sleeping tablets. A good night"s rest and you should feel much better. Doctor Harding will be in to see you in the morning.” She adjusted the covers, pulling them up and tucking them in before she left the room, flicking off the overhead lights and leaving me in the relatively soft glow of a night light over the back of the bed.

I lay awake for a long time, replaying the accident repeatedly. I was drifting towards sleep when I opened my eyes, staring into the darkened room in sheer disbelief. Lucas Tine had announced I had visitors, even before they came into the room. How had he known they were there? I thought over the conversation with him, trying to find any clue to suggest he could have heard them out in the hallway, but there was nothing. It didn"t make any sense.

When sleep eventually overwhelmed me, my dreams were filled with a pale, breathtaking man with unusually dark blue eyes.