“I’m gonna let Dr. Olson know you’re awake and your vitals are good. You stay put. I don’t need my favorite patient gettin’ up without assistance.” She left the room in a flourish.
Tim looked down at his arms taped with tubes coming out of his veins. Another tube ran down his chest and under the blue gown he was wearing. He felt drugged and sluggish. It wasn’t a feeling he liked, and he wanted answers.
Trudy opened the door and reentered, accompanied by a tall man in a white coat who immediately smiled. “Tim Ryan. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Gerald Olson. How are you feeling?”
“Not good,” Tim managed to say, his voice gravelly.
“That’s to be expected.”
The doctor used a penlight to shine in his eyes making him wince.
“I wasn’t expecting you to wake up so soon.”
“He’s a miracle patient—a fine specimen of a man,” Trudy joked.
The doctor laughed. “Yes, he is. Your physical condition is a plus in your recovery. I don’t think you’re going to have any problem getting out of here sooner rather than later.”
“What happened?” Tim asked.
Trudy’s expression emoted compassion as the doctor nodded. “While protecting a little girl in the midst of an F2 tornado, you were hit in the back of the head by a large tree.”
Tim scowled trying to remember. “What little girl?”
Dr. Olson continued to assess his patient, nonplussed by the question. “The pretty little blonde daughter of your girlfriend,” he replied, matter-of-factly.
Tim clamped his eyes tight trying to remember who the hell the doctor was talking about. His head was pounding out of its skull as he racked his brain for answers. He couldn’t remember a pretty little blonde girl, nor could he remember an actual girlfriend. Living alone in Atlanta working in yards was the only thing he knew for sure. Was this some kind of cruel joke? He could feel his mouth salivating like he was about to throw up.
And then it hit him square in the chest.
“Julia?”
His eyes went wide, and in a panic, he tried to sit up. Trudy grabbed him by the wrist as the doctor pushed him gently back against the raised mattress.
“She’s fine, Tim,” he reassured. “Not a scratch on her pretty little head. You saved her life.”
Tim’s breathing was erratic as he tried to keep the panic attack from taking over. It all came flooding back. The wind. The lightning. Julia. The yellow dress…
“Jessica?” He was winded trying to breathe normally, the swirl of colors making him have tunnel vision. The memories were intense, coming at him like a machine gun. It was too much.
“Relax, Tim. You’re overstimulated, honey. Relax…” The sound of the nurse’s voice faded further and further away, the colors of his world slowly vanishing, sending him back into the black.
When he awoke sometime later, his eyes focused on a familiar face, and he blinked several times trying to make sense of it.
“Tabitha?”
His sister’s smile was comforting, and he could feel her running her hand across his fingers.
“I’m here, Tim. You were in an accident.”
Tim shifted groggily in the bed, grimacing with each move his muscles made. “How did you get here? Where’s Jessica?”
“I flew here, Tim. Jessica called me right after it happened. She’s here too, but she’s sleeping. It was my turn to stay with you. I’ll go wake her in a minute.” Her hand stroked his whiskered cheek. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
“Hurts like hell.”
“I’m sorry.” She offered him a sisterly smile. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Trudy came into the room with a tray and set it down next to them. “Good mornin’ sunshine. I need to change your bandages. It won’t hurt, but I don’t want you moving your head around while I do it.”
