In that moment, Trap felt the cool air of a fan blowing on his body—his bare skin, in fact. He looked down and found he wasn’t wearing a shirt…or his jeans. He looked up, his eyes wide. “What?—?”
Lila Mae picked up an ice pack from the floor where it had fallen when he’d sat up. “It said to remove necessary clothing,” she said, her voice pitching up a little bit. “And to put ice packs in areas that would cool you down the quickest: the armpits, on your neck, your groin.”
Her eyes drifted down his body and rebounded quickly. “I put one on your neck, and in your armpits, and under yourknees. I wondered if I should cover you up, but that didn’t make sense, because you were too hot to begin with.”
Trap felt too hot now for an entirely different reason.
“Anyway, I took your temperature,” she said. “And it was too high. You really should go to the hospital.”
Trap shook his head instantly. “I don’t need that drama.”
“But you could have liver problems or other organ failures,” she said. “Heat stroke and heat exhaustion are both really dangerous, Trap.”
“I know,” he said, because he did know, and another round of stupidity moved through him.
“Why were you working out there at almost six o’clock at night?” she asked. “You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s the next job on the list,” he said, and Trap still had more to do today as well. “Where are my clothes?”
“Well, everything was wet,” she said. “I dumped your whole jug on you to get you to wake up. I think it probably cooled you down, but not enough. I hung them outside to dry, because I don’t have a dryer here.”
Trap sighed and looked down at his blue plaid boxers. He supposed the situation could be worse, but the longer he thought about it, he wasn’t sure how.
“I’m making dinner,” Lila Mae said. “The spray bottle I’ve been using to mist you is sitting right there. If you still feel hot, you should use it and have more to drink. You’re probably dehydrated too. I read they could go hand-in-hand, and one of the best ways to recover from heat stroke is to drink cool liquids.”
Trap took the glass of water from her and drank it greedily.
“I’ll get you more,” Lila Mae said, and she walked away.
She couldn’t go far in the tiny house, but Trap took the moment to survey this living room area where he’d been set up. A spray bottle sat on the arm of the couch with the fanblowing directly on him. He picked it up and misted his chest and abdomen, the fan immediately cooling the water. His head swam for just a moment, and though he’d just drunk, he could definitely use more.
Lila Mae returned with another glass of ice water. “I called in an order for those sports drinks,” she said. “The internet said that you can rehydrate with those without going to the hospital, but if it’s severe, you’ll need an IV.”
Trap looked into her wide, worried eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think it was that hot in there.”
Lila Mae blinked her blue eyes, still filled with concern. “Well, it obviously was. A sports drink should be here soon,” she said. “I paid extra for the fast delivery. And, well, I called my brother.”
Trap heard the note of discouragement in her voice, and while he didn’t know a lot about Lila Mae beyond a professional capacity, he’d heard her mention her brothers a few times and how they weren’t very supportive of her moving to Three Rivers and opening Feline Friends.
“He’s a vet,” she said. “Not a medical doctor, but he knows a lot. And he said if you bounce back with the cold drinks that you could probably eat something—like fruit or a salad or something salty to help replenish all those fluids and electrolytes. But even he said you should go to the hospital, and they should determine if you can eat or not.”
“You’re making dinner?” he asked.
“I’ve got apples from the orchard,” she said, not directly answering his question. “And my brother said broth would be good as long as it’s chilled, and things like cold watermelon cubes, and orange slices, or maybe a banana. But I didn’t have any of those things, so I ordered them, and we can try that if you’re truly set on not going to the hospital.”
She reached out and pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. Electricity moved through him, and Trap pulled in a breath.
“You don’t have a rapid pulse,” she said. “You don’t seem confused. Those are both symptoms of more severe heat stroke.” She frowned and pulled her hand back. “But so is loss of consciousness, and that’s why Spencer said you should go to the hospital. He said anytime anyone loses consciousness, they should go to the hospital.”
Lila Mae picked up her phone and peered at it, swiping a couple of times as she read. “But all of your other symptoms indicate mild heat exhaustion, not heat stroke.” She looked up at him. “So I guess it’s your decision. I’m just telling you what I’ve learned or been told.” She pressed her lips together and set her phone down. “Eleven minutes until they arrive with the sports drinks and fruit.”
Trap nodded, and he drank the second glass of water a little slower than the first, trying to will his body into absorbing the liquid and also trying to understand everything Lila Mae had done for him in only twenty minutes’ time.
“Let’s try that,” he said. “I’m pretty sure the Three Rivers pamphlet said that if you can get your temperature down within the first hour, it’s best.”
“I put wet towels over your chest and stomach,” she said. “And let the fan blow on them, because it said to get you immersed in a cold water bath, but I only have a shower here.”
Something sizzled in her kitchen, and Lila Mae darted off to attend to it. Trap sat still, trying to think through the other recommended treatments he’d read in the pamphlets and email warnings. He was supposed to rest in a cool place and drink cool fluids. It seemed like Lila Mae had done all the other items by trying to reduce his core body temperature, and as she returned to him, he asked, “Could we take my temperature?”
