She didn’t think so anyway.
“It’s a rental.” He didn’t sound so concerned now. Annoyed with her would more aptly describe his tone. “I wasn’t worried about the damn car.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this. Really.” She didn’t know what to say. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” Maybe he would pull over, make a u-turn and they could forget all of this had even happened.
He slowed down, but not to turn around. They had arrived at the small but modern hospital. Any ski town worth its salt had excellent facilities for all the ski bunnies with torn ligaments and broken legs. And then there were the idiots who drank too much, got themselves dehydrated and then succumbed to altitude sickness.
This was going to cost a fortune.
He pulled up to the front and parked. Damn, damn, damn! Why couldn’t he just drop her off and go on about his business?
Noel fumbled to unhook her seatbelt while he climbed out and came around to her door.
When he assisted her to the sidewalk, she tried to pull herself together. “Thank you, Mr. Stafford, Elliot.” And then she waved her clean hand a little, hoping he would get the message. If he left her here, she’d just sit for a while and then try to find a ride back to the hotel.
Ignoring her, he locked the car with the press of a button and proceeded to assist her into the hospital.
His arm felt warm around her. It felt good to lean on him a little, too.
“You didn’t think I would just leave you here, did you?” His breath felt hot on her cheek as he spoke. Snow was coming down now. Big fluffy flakes, not unusual for early April.
The door to the hospital whooshed open automatically and a male attendant in scrubs approached them. The look of horror on his face reminded her of the ridiculous amount of blood covering her shirt. “Wait here, I’ll get a wheelchair.” He held out a halting hand and turned around before Noel could protest.
“It looks so much worse than it is…” She tried trailing after him.
But strong, warm hands held her back. They rubbed up and down her arms. She’d been shivering.
The attendant returned, set what appeared to be a brake, and then Elliot assisted her into the chair.
She’d never sat in a wheelchair before and would have felt ridiculous if she didn’t feel so light headed. Elliott waved the man off and drove her over to the desk. Luckily it wasn’t counter height. Hmm… Imagine that! They must have dealt with this situation a time or two.
Before asking any questions, the lady behind the desk took her arm and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it. When it began squeezing automatically, the woman returned to her desk.
“Name?”
“Noel Blake.”
“Birthdate?”
Such a simple question. Her brain searched… “Um… December 24th, um…1990.” Yeah, that was right.
“May I see your insurance card?” That would be highly unlikely… considering…
“I don’t have insurance.” There. She’d said it. Now they could send her away in shame.
The woman pursed her lips and then handed her some papers to sign. “This is an acknowledgement that you will be responsible for all charges incurred. Either you or your husband can sign.”
“Oh, but he’s not…” Elliott snagged the form from her and picked up a pen. “Oh, but no!” Noel tried to snatch it back but she couldn’t get close enough. She was attached to the blood pressure cuff.
“Any allergies?” The arm thingy relaxed its grip. And then it began squeezing again.
“Not that I know of.” The woman glanced up sternly and then asked what happened. Noel wanted to argue with Elliot. What the hell did he think he was doing? She was strapped right now but she didn’t want his charity.
All of this was making her feel sick again. Now, in addition to her own blood, the normal hospital smells assaulted her senses.
Noel wondered how long it would take for somebody to give her something less gruesome to hold over the cut.
The nurse documented the brief description of what happened and then pointed towards a waiting area. Unlike the other attendant, she didn’t seem overly concerned by the condition of Noel’s t-shirt.
