Unmarked Graves

Chapter 1-3

He offered her a reassuring smile, drained the last of his coffee, and then got up from the table, pausing to drop the empty cup in the trash before he left the cafeteria.

No more coffee for her, though. Rosemary had only drunk about half the cup, but the caffeine was already singing along her nerve endings, and she knew she’d hit her limit. A glance up at the clock on the far wall told her it was now almost nine o’clock, which meant Will had been admitted more than a half hour earlier. How long did an MRI test take? She had no idea because she’d never had any need to have one; her last physical injury had been a sprained ankle more than five years earlier, and that had only required simple X-rays to make sure she hadn’t broken any bones.

Still, a half hour seemed enough time for something to have happened, so she went back down the hallway to the E.R. and approached the desk. “Any updates on Will Gordon?” she asked.

The woman checked the computer and nodded. “Yes, it looks like he’s been transferred to a room on the fifth floor. Just go up and ask at the nurses’ station there.”

“Thank you,” Rosemary replied, relief washing through her. Yes, he had been sent to a room instead of being released, but it must have been just a regular hospital room, since the nurse hadn’t said anything about him being in the ICU.

After offering the woman a grateful smile, she went to the elevators and headed upstairs. A quick inquiry at the nurses’ station provided the information that Will Gordon was in Room 522.

“I just checked on him a few minutes ago,” the nurse offered with a smile. She was pretty and blonde and probably in her early thirties, closer to Will’s age than Rosemary herself. No wedding ring, either.

And that was probably just about the most ridiculous thing to be thinking about right then. Maybe the nurse wasn’t wearing a wedding ring because it got in the way while she worked. Allowing even the faintest feelings of jealousy to pop up when Will was lying in bed with a concussion was crazy.

“Thank you so much,” Rosemary said, and hurried herself away from the nurses’ station before she could do or say anything too foolish.

His room was down the hall to the left. She paused at the open doorway and made herself take a steadying breath. It scared her more than she wanted to admit how much she’d already come to care about this man, even though they’d only shared one kiss, even though she hardly knew anything about him. When she’d seen him lying on the floor at the Glendale house, barely breathing, the fear that had nearly overwhelmed her was unlike anything she’d experienced before.

She’d been so afraid of losing him, even though she had to acknowledge he wasn’t really hers. Not yet, anyway. Maybe someday, if she was really lucky….

Another steadying breath, and then she entered the room. The lights were dim, and the TV had been turned on, although the sound was turned way, way down.

“Thank God,” Will said, shifting slightly in his hospital bed as she approached.

“You’re all right?” she asked, and took a few more steps toward him.

He looked all right. Of course, he had a bandage wrapped around his head and a gauze pad on the left side of his forehead, and he wore a hospital gown with some sort of old-fashioned foulard print on it, like something you might see on one of your grandfather’s ties, but his color was good, and his extraordinary gray eyes focused on her easily enough. If he’d gotten bruised by his fall to the wood floor in the hallway at Colin’s house, those bruises hadn’t yet begun to surface.

“I’m fine,” he said, and gave her a deprecating grin. “That is, my head hurts like hell, but I don’t think I suffered any lasting damage.” The smile faded, and he went on, “And you — you’re all right? What happened?”

Rosemary reached over and took his hand. His fingers felt warm and strong. Surely if something was really wrong with him, they would have felt cool and clammy or otherwise not quite right?

A quick glance at the door told her that the nurses were out of earshot, and didn’t seem inclined to interrupt their conversation…at least, not at that particular moment. Still, she thought it was probably better to be circumspect. “Maybe we should talk about that later.”

He seemed to understand the reason for her reticence; although he didn’t nod, his mouth compressed slightly. “But he didn’t — ”

“No, I’m good,” she said, hoping he would get the point.

Will’s mouth parted, but whatever he’d been about to say was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, a man who looked to be in his middle or late fifties, balding and with a sharp beak of a nose. He glanced over at Rosemary, who wondered if she should excuse herself. After all, she and Will had kissed, but their relationship still was woefully undefined. Maybe he wouldn’t want her around while the doctor discussed personal medical issues with him.

However, those doubts were immediately dispelled by Will saying, “I hope you have good news, doctor.”

Another of those glances, but then the man gave the slightest lift of his shoulders. “I do…mostly. I’m Doctor Littleton, and I’ve just been reviewing your MRI. You do have a concussion, but it’s not a serious one, so it doesn’t look as though any other tests are warranted for the moment.”

“I can go home?” Will asked, face eager.

“We’d prefer that you stay in the hospital overnight for observation,” Doctor Littleton replied.

For just the faintest moment, Will frowned. But then his expression smoothed itself, and he said, “But if you ‘prefer’ me to stay, that’s just a recommendation, correct?”

The doctor hesitated. “Yes. I can discharge you, as long as you have someone to drive you home and that you also have someone who can watch you tonight and wake you up regularly.”

“I can do that,” Rosemary said, and then sent a quick, apologetic glance over at Will. “That is, if you want me to.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you could,” he told her, his eyes warming with gratitude. “You drove my car over here, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “So, it really makes the most sense. I can take you home and keep an eye on you all night.”

“Well, then,” Doctor Littleton said, then shifted, directing his next words to her. “I’ll send you home with a list of instructions, but the most important is to make sure to wake him up every hour or so. Will, if you experience nausea or vomiting, or blurred vision or ringing in your ears, then call an ambulance right away.”

“I will,” he replied, although his expression had grown a little grimmer. Maybe he was mentally calculating whether his insurance would cover something like that, and whether it might not be better to just have Rosemary drive him back to the hospital. She couldn’t begin to guess, since she had no idea what kind of health insurance a minister might have. It had always been a joke with Rosemary and her sisters that they’d either drive each other to the hospital or call an Uber if there was ever a problem, since their own modest health plans that they’d bought through the business were bare-bones at best.

Not that it mattered. If things went downhill fast with Will for whatever reason, Rosemary knew she’d pay for the damn ambulance out of her own pocket before she’d let anything happen to him.

“I’ll start your discharge paperwork, then,” the doctor said. “It’ll be a half hour or so.”

He left the room, and Rosemary and Will looked at each other.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

“Of course,” she responded, taking his hand once again. “You think I’d be able to sleep a wink if I had someone else looking after you?”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “You wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she said severely. “Besides, it’s partly my fault you got that concussion in the first place. It wouldn’t feel right to have anyone but me keeping watch tonight.”

His eyes held hers. “And that’s the only reason?”

In answer, she bent down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Be brave, she told herself.

Not looking away, making sure not to break their contact, she said, “You know it isn’t.”

And to her relief, he smiled.