“May I have a glass of water?” she asked hesitantly.
“Dr. Greene said you can have small drinks or ice chips to start. When’s the last time you ate?” he asked, taking her hand, brushing it with his thumb.
“I ate a tomato in the bar before I stabbed a man. He wanted to use a whip on Leana,” she said, before coughing.
Jameson sat her up, wincing as she coughed up a lung. He handed her a tissue from the bedside table and held her by the shoulders, offering her support.
When she settled down, he lay her gently back against the pillows. “I’ll get you some water,” he said, leaving the room. He filled a pitcher and brought back a plastic cup. Pouring her a small amount, Jameson handed it to her.
Her fingers shook as she tilted the cup and greedily gulped down the water, sending her into another coughing fit.
Dr. Greene entered the room. “Hello, Caroline. It’s finally nice to meet you. You must feel horrid. I’m giving you a breathing treatment to break up some of the gunk in your chest. I know you’re weak, but how do you feel about a shower? Sometimes the steam will help with the coughing,” she explained, walking to the opposite side of the bed to examine her patient.
Caroline’s eyes widened. “I can take a shower, like a real one?”
“Yes, for as long as you like,” the doctor assured her. “Will you feel comfortable if I have an aide assist you?”
“I’ll help her,” Jameson volunteered.
Dr. Greene sent him a sympathetic smile. “I appreciate your help, but Caroline might feel comfortable with another woman.”
Feeling like an idiot, Jameson stared at the ceiling. “Of course.”
“Don’t be mad,” Caroline whispered as Dr. Greene left the room.
Jameson’s gaze drifted to Caroline’s face. If he thought she appeared pale before, now she turned downright pasty. Her eyes showed fear, and her hands gripped the sheet as if she expected him to lash out at her.
Attempting to smile and put her at ease, he explained, “I’ve spent every waking moment searching for you. I guess I’ve grown overprotective since I finally found you.”
“I’ll only be in the bathroom,” she said softly. “I won’t stay long.”
Happy now? You made her feel like shit for wanting to feel clean.“Take as long as you want. You have caked mud in your hair. I didn’t even see any blonde. Ask the aide to wash it a couple of times. It’ll make you feel better,” he advised, trying to appear relaxed. Truthfully, he didn’t want to leave her alone.
A few minutes later, they hooked her up to a breathing treatment, and every now and then, he caught her staring at him.
“If you tolerate liquids, Dr. Greene says you can eat whatever you want. Do you have something in mind you have a taste for?”
Caroline nodded.
Jameson took out his phone and handed it to her. “Type what you want for your first real meal and then list some of your favorite foods,” he said, showing her the app.
Caroline shook her head, refusing to ask for anything.
“Listen, you’re safe here,” he assured her. “We’re on a ranch. We have everything from steak to fresh chicken. We have a pantry in the community center full of candy, ice cream, and cookies.”
Caroline didn’t seem convinced as she stared at the device.
“There’s no right or wrong answer,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
She did as he commanded.
“You’re sitting at a big ole’ table, and you can have anything you want. What do you see?”
She remained still for a moment, picturing it in her head, and then she opened her eyes and started typing.
Fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits. Fruit, anything except kiwis. A warm chocolate chip cookie and cherry chunk ice cream.
Jameson grinned. “You’re in luck. We have a cook here named Delaney. She makes the best fried chicken and gravy. As soon as you’re up to eating it, we’ll make it happen.”
