Chapter Six
Meggie had never felt so hot. Kicking the covers away with her foot, she rolled onto her back, laying her forearm across her
her eyes closed. At least Jill was safe and that was all that mattered.
After Meggie had jumped out of the Jeep, Quinn had seen his daughter taking shelter from the storm in the doorway of a local
business. He’d picked her up and then gone back for Meggie, but had been unable to locate her. Since Hariette’s was only a
few blocks from where he was, Quinn had driven Jill to her grandmother’s and gone back, looking for Meggie. He found her a
block from the apartment building. Although drenched and shivering, Meggie was more concerned that Quinn had found Jill. Her
relief could hardly be expressed with words.
She’d taken a hot bath and crawled into bed. But it didn’t seem to matter how many blankets she piled on, she couldn’t get
warm. Now she felt as if she was in the same room as a blast furnace; the sweat was pouring off her.
Shivering, Meggie woke again at seven with the alarm. She reached for the covers and curled into a tight ball to chase away
the sudden chill. At seven-fifteen she forced herself out of bed. The room spun crazily and she sat down, slowly lowering
herself onto the mattress. It took several minutes before she felt strong enough to stand again. She placed her hands against
the wall, using it as a support in case she felt faint. By the time she reached the kitchen, she was trembling.
Pouring herself a small glass of apple juice from the refrigerator, she took down the aspirin bottle from the cupboard. The
childproof cap wouldn’t twist open and Meggie felt like crying. Who would have believed opening a simple bottle would take
so much effort? Her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably as she shook two tablets into the palm of her hand.
The aspirin had begun to dissolve in her mouth by the time she lifted the cold juice to her lips. It was agony to swallow,
but somehow she downed the medication. Phoning the office to say she was sick and wouldn’t be in was another task that drained
her of reserved strength. Her boss was reassuring and told her to get well and not to worry about the office.
Meggie almost fell back into bed. Immediately she drifted into a dreamless slumber. The next time she opened her eyes it was
afternoon. She felt moderately better and forced herself to swallow more aspirin and drink another glass of juice. Taking
the pillow from her bed she lay down on the davenport and turned on the television.
Feeling considerably worse by evening, Meggie spent the night on the couch. It required too much effort to force herself to
return to her bedroom. When she phoned the office Tuesday morning, she was again assured everything was fine. She replaced
the receiver, shocked at how weak and strained her voice sounded.
The aspirin remained on the end table with a pitcher of juice and Meggie forced herself to drink liquids, but nothing seemed
to help the raging fire in her throat.
That afternoon the doorbell chimed. Meggie glanced at the front door, wondering if she had the strength to answer the repeated
knock. She struggled into a sitting position as the room spun wildly around her.
By leaning heavily against the door frame, Meggie was able to stand upright.
“You look awful.” Concern knitted Quinn’s brow into furrowed lines.
“Thanks.” She attempted a feeble smile.
Quinn jerked his fingers through his tawny hair as he studied her. “I wondered when I didn’t see you the past couple of mornings
if you were sick. I’m glad I decided to check.” With a supporting arm around her shoulders he helped her back to the sofa.
Gently he brushed away the limp hair from her face. His hand felt refreshingly cool against her skin and she closed her eyes.
“You’re burning with fever.”
“I’m all right,” she insisted weakly. “I’m better today.”
Quinn didn’t sound convinced. “What did you feel like yesterday?”
The slight quiver of her lips was a poor imitation of a smile. “Rotten.”
His mouth curved up cynically, adding a harshness to the craggy features. “If there’s not a vast improvement in your condition
by tomorrow, I’m taking you to the doctor.”
Meggie forced her eyes open. “No,” she protested. “I’ll be okay. I just need some rest, that’s all.”
Before she could protest, she was gently lifted into the air, one arm behind her knees, the other supporting her back. Cradled
in Quinn’s arms she felt safe and protected and laid her head against his shoulder, smiling softly to herself.
With great care he placed her on the mattress and removed the slippers from her feet. When she slipped out of the velour robe,
Quinn laid it at the foot of the bed.
“What—no wet cloth across my forehead? The very least you could do is hold my hand and whisper soothingly.”
For the first time that afternoon Quinn smiled. Meggie glanced away for fear the look in her eyes would betray her feelings.
“Can I get you anything before I go?”
It hurt so much to talk that Meggie simply shook her head.
“I’ll be back later. I’m taking the apartment key from your purse so you won’t have to get up and answer the door. Okay?”
Meggie’s lips trembled with a smile. Lying back with her head supported by the pillow, she heard him leave. The sound of the
door locking was comforting and she closed her eyes, knowing Quinn would return.
“Meggie?” Someone was calling to her from a far distance, but she didn’t know where. Weights seemed to be holding her eyes
shut. She was sick, so sick. Never could she remember feeling this awful.
“Meggie, it’s Quinn. Can you hear me?” The softly spoken words were issued close to her ear.
She gave a tiny nod.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
She tried to protest, but all her effort resulted in nothing but a pitiful moan. Lifelessly her head fell back as a muscled
arm lifted her from the bed. She was carried only a short distance and set down. Quinn took her limp arms, inserting them
into the sleeves of her coat. Meggie tried to help but the simple function was beyond her.
There was little about the ride to the hospital that stayed in her mind. Worried glances from Quinn, soft assurances at every
stoplight. Her one thought was how good the cold air felt against her burning skin.
Quinn carried her inside the emergency room and laid her gently on one of the examining tables. A doctor’s kind eyes stared
down at her, momentarily blocking out the bright light that blinded her. Quinn was standing by her side holding one hand.
“I’m taking a culture, but I can just about guarantee it’s streptococci.”
“Strep throat?” Quinn questioned in a worried voice. “Will she be all right?”
The sound of their voices drifted away, but Meggie heard the doctor telling Quinn she’d need heavy doses of antibiotics, and
someone to look after her. Meggie wanted to say she didn’t need anyone, she could take care of herself, when Quinn assured
the physician that he’d be taking care of her.
The next thing Meggie knew she was back in her own bed. The room was dark and she rolled her head to look at the clock. It
was after six. Shadows from the rising sun flitted across the walls and she raised herself up on one elbow to find Quinn slouched
in a chair on the opposite side of the small room. He was asleep, his frame filling the chair. Forearms were crisscrossed
over his chest while his head was tilted to one side, half resting on his shoulder.
Meggie’s brown eyes drank in the sight of him. For once she could look at him, watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest
without the fear of his reading the love in her eyes. His face was relaxed in slumber, the aquiline profile less sharp. Studying
him stirred something deep within her breast. Meggie yearned to reach out and touch him.
Quinn must have felt her quiet appraisal because his eyes leisurely opened and met hers. For a long time he didn’t move, their
eyes speaking the words that had never been verbalized. The undisguised tenderness robbed her lungs of oxygen and she extended
her hand, reaching out to him.
Unfolding his arms, Quinn stood, his eyes smiling deeply into hers.
“You look awful,” she whispered.
Taking her fingers, he smiled down at her mockingly. “Now that’s the pot calling the kettle black. Taken a look in the mirror
lately?”
Meggie shook her head, glancing away embarrassed. It didn’t take much of an imagination to know what she must look like. She
needed a bath, her hair was a mass of tangles. But for the first time in days her throat wasn’t a consuming fire and she felt
that she could drink something.
Quinn kissed her fingertips as if she were a delicate flower and knelt beside her, resting his elbows on the bed. “It doesn’t
matter what you look like. To me you’ll always be beautiful.”
Tears pricked her eyes as her hand lovingly investigated the rugged lines of his face, enjoying the feel of his unshaven skin
against the sensitive palm of her hand.
A muscle jerked in the side of his jaw as he stopped her action, gripping her hand securely between his two larger ones.
“Do you feel like you might be able to eat something?” he asked.
Food didn’t interest her and she shook her head. “I’m thirsty.”
A featherlight kiss brushed her brow. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
By the time he returned, Meggie was sitting up and Quinn handed her a tall, frosted glass. It looked like a milkshake, but
she didn’t ask. It was still painful to swallow, but the liquid felt cold and soothing against the back of her throat.
Pulling the chair closer to the bed, Quinn sat beside her, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees.
“How’s Jill?” Meggie managed to ask in a hoarse whisper.
The thick brows came together in a heavy scowl. “Fine.” His response was clipped, almost angry. “It’s her fault you’re sick.”
Meggie’s fingers bit into his arm. “No,” she said quickly and winced at the pain in her throat. “What happened to me is my
own doing. I lost my temper. I don’t blame Jill for running away.”