It took me a solid minute to realize who it was sitting there.
“What’s going on?” I asked Weaver. “Why do I…”
“Shhh,” he said. “Don’t move too much. Are you hurting?”
Was I in pain? There was no level of pain that I’d ever experienced that even touched what I was feeling in that moment.
“Yes.” I didn’t see the point in lying. “Really bad, actually.”
He pressed a button by my head that I hadn’t noticed before then and got up to lean over the bed, taking in my eyes and my face.
The intensity in his gaze might’ve normally done something for me, but not today.
Not when I felt like my entire being was on fire.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to say no, but closed it as memories crashed over me.
With the memories came the fear.
“Oh, god,” I rasped. “How bad is it?”
“Not nearly as bad as it could’ve been,” he admitted. “You have several broken bones. Ribs and arm. Your arm’s in a cast. They had to repair that with a couple of nuts and bolts. You’ll be setting off the scanners at the airport for the rest of your life.”
I frowned.
“The real problem was the rabies and the gashes and claw marks.”
I felt my stomach flip. “Rabies?”
“They’ve already treated you for them—the bear did have rabies—but they’re very hopeful. For the next several weeks they’ll also give you some other things. I’m not quite sure on those. But they’re not worried any longer about that. Your response was great, and there’s some more scientific things they can share with you about rates and blood and all kinds. But that’s not really my forte.”
I blew out a relieved breath. “Is it bad?”
He nodded. “You’re cut up really bad, darlin’. The bear bit you on the head, too. You have some puncture marks here.” He pressed lightly right above my ear. “And here.” That time he pressed against the other side of my head, more near the bony part at the base of my skull. “You were pretty close to getting fucked up worse.”
“A man shouted,” she remembered. “He saved my life. The bear had just put his big ass jaw around my head when the bellow came.”
“I heard the 9-1-1 call,” he informed her. “You fought hard.”
“She’s awake?” A nurse bustled in. “My name is Brenda, and I’m your nurse. How’s your pain?”
“Bad,” I answered quietly. “Really bad.”
She nodded and walked over to the IV on my right arm—the one not in a cast—and held up a vial of medication. “This is the good stuff. Give me a half a second…”
The tingling started almost immediately.
“It shouldn’t take but a second to start working, but it’ll also make you really sleepy,” Nurse Brenda said. “Before you fall back asleep, let’s get you checked out and in some new sheets. Your wounds are extensive on your back and side. We want to get some eyes on them to make sure they’re not infected.”
“Okay.” I cleared my throat. “But please let’s wait until I can…ahhh.”
The instant feeling of relief was palpable.
“Now, do you want your husband inside or outside?”
I looked over at my “husband.” “He’s welcome to stay.”
