Chapter 3
Lauren couldn’t think. Her head was full of cotton, and her pulse thrummed in her temples. Something was around her neck;
she couldn’t move her head. She didn’t remember coming here. Didn’t remember any of this!
What’s happening to me?
“Hey, it’s okay.” Jonah squeezed her hand. “We’re at Pinehaven Hospital. You took a fall—that’s why you have a neck brace,
just a precaution. You’ve had a CT scan and we’re waiting for the doctor.”
“I hit my head?” She removed her hand from his and raised it to the back of her head. Winced at the tender lump. Her stomach
roiled. She lowered her hand and closed her eyes against the pain. She didn’t want to see Jonah. Where was his mom? She’d
rather have Tammy at her bedside. Would rather have anyone here, even Carson, though she must be a fright.
Good grief, how vain could she be? And why wouldn’t someone come in and give her something for this awful headache?
“That’s it, close your eyes, rest a bit.”
At least Jonah was being nice for a change. Sad that she had to get whacked upside the head to wring a smidgen of kindness
from him. She opened her eyes. He looked different. He’d cut off all that long dark hair and shaved his scraggly beard. When
had he done that?
“Who’s at the resort?” she asked.
“Don’t worry, Meg’s taking care of everything. Mom and Dad will be here soon. Graham’s worried about you.”
Gram. Did he have a grandmother she hadn’t met? And why would the woman be worried about Lauren? “Who?”
“Graham.”
Gra-ham. Still didn’t ring a bell. “No idea who you’re talking about.” All this thinking was making her head throb. Why couldn’t he
just leave her alone?
“Lauren... You don’t remember your dog?”
“I don’t have a dog.”
His lips slackened. His brow furrowed and he took her hand again.
Her hand.
She homed in on her fingers. The calluses weren’t concerning, though she didn’t remember them. She was a hard worker and was
employed as a manager at a rustic resort.
It was her nails. She always, always , kept her nails manicured and painted. Currently they were bare of the polish she’d last used—Ballet Pink, if memory served—and
her cuticles were an abomination.
What was going on? Why weren’t her nails painted? Why did Jonah think she had a dog, and why in heaven’s name did he keep
touching her? Her breath felt stuffed in her lungs. They, too, were filled with cotton and unable to draw in a breath.
She ripped her hand from his. “Stop touching me. Stop talking to me. Why are you even here?”
He leaned forward, gaze sharpening on her. “Lauren... What’s going on? It’s me , Jonah.”
“I know who you are! I’m not stupid.” Why was he being so weird? She needed Sydney. She’d be trying to make her laugh, not
confusing her. She’d help Lauren make sense of all this. She would go out there and demand someone get in here. She wanted
to talk to Sydney, never mind that her friend was back home in Boston.
Lauren felt for her pocket, but she wasn’t wearing her jeans. She was in a hospital gown. “Where’s my phone? Get me my phone.”
“It’s probably still in your pants.” Jonah turned and opened a cubby, grabbed her jeans, and fished through her pockets. “It’s
not here.” He lifted her shirt, her shoes. “It must’ve fallen out in the barn.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. “I want to talk to Sydney!” Lauren couldn’t seem to draw in oxygen. She needed air. The neck
brace was choking her. She clawed at it.
Jonah grabbed her hands. “Honey, don’t do that. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“Get this off. Get it off! I can’t breathe.”
“I need help in here!” he hollered. “You have to stay still. Please, sweetheart. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“Leave me alone!”
A terrible foreboding filled her. Anxiety swarmed like a dozen angry bees in her head.
A commotion sounded as a nurse entered, Carson on her heels.
“Something’s wrong,” Jonah told the nurse. “My girlfriend can’t breathe.”
“Not... girlfriend,” she squeezed out. Breathe. She needed to breathe. A horrible sense of doom washed over her, nearly
swallowing her whole. Her pulse raced, pounded in her chest, in her head. She was gonna die.
God, help me.
Carson edged past Jonah. “Does she have panic attacks?”
“No, never.”
Carson got in her face. “Hey, Lauren? Lauren, look at me, look at me. Let go of the C-collar, okay? I’m gonna take it off.
Your CT showed no neck or spinal injuries. That’s good news, huh? Off we go.” The rip of Velcro sounded, and he slipped the
thing off her neck. “There, is that better? What’s going on?”
The constriction didn’t go away. “I feel... anxious. Can’t breathe.”
“Does your chest or anything else hurt?”
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
“Lauren, does anything hurt?”
“Just—just my head.”
“Something’s wrong with her,” Jonah said. “You have to help her.”
“Her brain appeared normal on the CT. Lauren, I know you’re scared, but I think you’re having a panic attack. I want you to
focus on breathing slowly and deeply. Watch me.”
Lauren’s gaze clung to Carson’s. She pushed away the panic and shifted her breathing to match his.
“One breath at a time. That’s it. You’re doing great.”
She took three more deep, slow breaths. Okay. She could breathe. Maybe she wasn’t dying after all.
***
Jonah’s hands knotted into fists. He felt so helpless. He’d never seen that wild look in her eyes before. Never seen the complete
and utter panic on her face. Lauren was cool and calm. Not flustered and fearful.
“Lauren, try counting back from one hundred.” Carson’s voice was soft and measured. “Can you do that for me?”
“One—one hundred.” Her voice quavered. “Ninety-nine... ninety-eight...”
“There you go. Keep it going.”
She was breathing normally. Her features relaxed a bit. That wild look in her eyes faded.
Relief swamped Jonah, making his legs go weak and wobbly. She wasn’t having a heart attack. And she didn’t have brain damage. But if that was true, why didn’t she remember Graham or the barn? Why was she acting like they weren’t a couple? The questions hovered like annoying mosquitoes. It was as if she didn’t remember him—or at least, remember them . But that couldn’t be true, could it? The possibility punched the air from his lungs.
“You’re feeling better, right?” Carson asked a few minutes later.
Lauren nodded.
“Hang in there. You got this.” Carson edged away while the nurse stepped in and took her vitals.
He joined Jonah at the edge of the room. “I’m reasonably sure that was a panic attack, but they’ll likely run some tests just
to make sure. What brought this on exactly?”
Jonah shook his head. “We were just talking. She said she didn’t have a dog, and she didn’t remember the barn, the one she’s
making into an event venue—the place where she fell! And she said she’s not my girlfriend—you heard that.”
“Listen, she’s obviously confused. I know it’s disconcerting, but what matters is that we keep her calm. She’s got a concussion
at the very least. She needs rest.” Carson glanced at Lauren who, for some odd reason, was glaring at Jonah.
“Why’s she so mad at me? I swear I didn’t do anything to make her angry. I’m telling you, she’s not herself.”
“No, I get that. Try not to take it personally. A bump on the head can cause all kinds of symptoms, including irritability.
They almost always go away with time. The normal CT is a very good sign. But we don’t want her having another panic attack.
The less stimulation, the better.” His face softened as he set a hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “You might want to give her a little
space.”
“Okay. I’ll sit over there and be quiet. I don’t want her to be alone.”
“Stop talking about me,” Lauren snapped at Jonah.
The nurse had removed the backboard and inclined her bed a bit. She seemed so small. So helpless.
“It might be better if you step into the hall,” Carson said. “Just for a little bit. Give her some breathing room.”
Jonah’s heart gave a sudden crack. Because Carson was right. He wasn’t doing Lauren any favors. His presence, for whatever
reason, only seemed to annoy her. And despite the terrible fear leaking into his veins, he had to put her health first. “Okay,
you’re right.”
“The doctor will be in in a few minutes. I’ll stay until then if you want.”
“Yeah, yeah. All right.” Whatever was best for Lauren.