Chapter Thirteen
Eric paced the emergency room cubicle in the Whitecourt Healthcare Centre.
It was an old facility, but well maintained and clean.
The staff had checked Wanda for exposure and other injuries, and then they’d taken her away twenty minutes ago.
Just to X-ray, he thought. So why was it taking so long?
They’d floated the last few miles down the river to camp and had been brought by pickup truck to the hospital.
Brent had stayed at the last camp while the other boaters went on to Calgary.
Once Wanda and Eric reached the hospital, Eric encouraged Brent, Jim, and Josh to head for Calgary as well.
He’d rent a car to drive himself and Wanda home.
No sense forcing others to wait around. Trips to the emergency room could take minutes or hours.
Eric and Wanda had waited ninety-seven minutes to see a doctor.
Day-old broken bones didn’t take priority over sick children, accidents, or heart attacks.
Tired of waiting for Wanda to return, he pushed back the curtain to find someone who could locate her. He looked left, then right, and sighed in relief. An older lady, dressed as a porter, was pushing Wanda down the corridor in a wheelchair.
“There you are, I was starting to fret.”
The porter smiled. “Sorry for the delay. We’re a bit short-staffed today, and I was busy helping in the children’s ward. Here she is, safe and sound.”
“They wouldn’t let me bring myself back,” Wanda grumbled lightly. “Thanks, Mavis. I appreciate the push.”
“You are quite welcome, dear.” She helped situate Wanda back on her ER stretcher, while Eric looked on helplessly.
When Mavis was gone, he said, “I could have helped you.”
“Are you pouting?” She chuckled.
“I was worried. It’s practically my fault you were hurt and stranded.”
“No, it isn’t. Accidents happen.” She looked like she was going to say something more, but he interrupted.
“It is. My company set this whole debacle up. Ergo, it is my fault. Besides, I didn’t see the rock soon enough.
” The guilt was almost overwhelming. It always was when an employee got hurt.
“Varner Industries will take care of you while you heal. We’ll hire anyone you need. We’ll get you live in help.”
“Du-ude. Stop.”
The doctor, a middle-aged man in scrubs, popped through the curtain.
“Here you are, Wanda. I took a look at those X-rays. The radiologist is on his way in to look at them now. Looks like your fibula is broken, and your tibia may have a micro-fracture. We’ll just wait for confirmation and get you into a cast.”
“An air cast, right?” she asked.
“While we could use an air cast, we’re going with fiberglass for strength, and because the material is quite light.
We don’t want any extra stress on that micro-fracture.
The nurse is going to clean up your foot and leg, and once I have radiologist confirmation, we’ll get that cast on.
” He punched some information into the computer, and several sheets of paper spilled out of the printer.
“Here’s a prescription for pain medication, plus care instructions for the ankle and the cast. Follow up with your doctor when you get back home,” he turned toward Eric.
“Son, I’d advise you to pop out and pick up your wife’s prescription while you wait.
We’ll give her a shot before she leaves, but you’ve got a long ride home. ”
“I can do that.” Eric said, just as Wanda said, “He’s my boss, not my husband.”
The doc’s gaze flipped back and forth between them. He shrugged and thrust the papers at Wanda. “Back in a few minutes.”
“What? No sports car?” Wanda teased Eric outside the ER exit. She leaned on her crutches and grinned, nearly able to ignore the ache in her leg.
“Nope. Nothing but the best available in Whitecourt for my lady. Well, not exactly luxury. I was going for comfort and roominess. This was the biggest SUV they had.” He opened the Suburban’s passenger door for her. “Hop on in. I’ll take those crutches when you’re settled in.”
He shifted so that she could pass. She handed him the crutches, shucked her thick sweater, and hopped in. “Thanks.”
He opened the back door, stowed the crutches, and handed her a fuzzy blanket. “I don’t want you to be cold.”
“Can you stop buying me things? The clean clothing was enough.” And she was mortified that he had probably rummaged through her bag to find the correct sizes, because everything fit perfectly. Cozy sweats, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a zipper hoodie, and, ugh, undergarments. How embarrassing was that?
He grinned and shut her door.
Infuriating man. She was torn between embarrassment, frustration, and a secret pleasure that he was being so kind and caring.
He got in and pulled away. “What’ll it be? McDonald’s, Wendy’s, subs, or a sit-down place. The nurse told me there’s a fabulous place downtown. We could go there.”
“I don’t know.” She was exhausted. Despite the painkillers they’d given her, her leg was hurting more as time passed. She just wanted to sleep. Except her stomach growled.
“Let’s go to the sit-down place, The Rainbow, it’s supposed to be cozy.” He turned onto the street without waiting for her opinion. He did that a lot. While she was grateful for the clothing, sort of, she hated being indebted to him.
“I’d like a sub.”
He stopped at a red light and gave her a squinting look. “Really?”
“Yeah. Just food and home.”
“No. Food and hotel. It’s nearly seven. I don’t want to drive half the night. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m bushed.”
“Aren’t you worried about business?” she snarked, despite understanding his reluctance to travel at night and the logic of resting first. She’d probably be well-served by sleeping in a proper bed.
“Of course. But I got our phones back from Brent, I’ve been checking in, and I can make more calls from the hotel.” He passed over her phone.
She rolled her eyes and said nothing. She couldn’t really afford a hotel room, but she was too tired to put up a fight. “I’m good with whatever you choose.” She’d prefer fast food and going home, but apparently, she had no choice. Restaurant and bed, it was.
“One room?” She asked ninety minutes later.
“It’s what they had. There’s a hockey tourney in town. Relax, Wanda. You’ve been a bear all night.” He pushed open the door and bowed low, waving her inside.
She didn’t dignify his comment with an answer. She was being grumpy, and she knew it. But she was hurting, and the way he just up and bought everything annoyed her. The crutches helped her walk but were cumbersome and hurt her hands.
Plus, she’d learned he hadn’t rented the SUV; he’d bought it! Who does that? No wonder he’d been gone so long. She’d been waiting twenty minutes after being cast. He’d been gone nearly two hours.
She walked into the hotel room, or rather, the suite. A sitting area with a loveseat and chair. A small kitchen, three doors leading off the main room. Two bedrooms and a bathroom. “Wow. I guess I can live with this.”
“It’ll do.”
Too tired and grumpy to decide if he was joking or not, she headed straight for the bathroom to clean up.
The doctor had told her she couldn’t shower until tomorrow, which sucked.
After a week on the river and hours in the ER, a nice, long soak would be wonderful.
However, she could have a sink-bath. As she closed the door, he said, “I’ll just pop out to the car and grab our bags. ”
Before she finished cleaning up, he knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “I’ve brought you some clean clothes and a clean toothbrush. I’ll leave it outside the door while I go into my room and catch a shower.”
“Thanks.” She wanted to be pleased by his thoughtfulness; okay, she was, but it made her distinctly uncomfortable that he kept shopping for her. He’d probably brought this stuff when he grabbed the stuff he’d given her at the hospital.
After he walked away, she opened the door and pulled the bag inside. Toothbrush and paste, moisturizer, deodorant, hand lotion, undergarments, more clean clothing, and holy hamburgers, fuzzy pajamas, and bunny slippers. The man was amazing. She smiled and got dressed in the sleepwear.
Hobbling with one crutch, she left the washroom, taking the clothing with her into the main room. One bedroom door was shut, so she headed for the other and dropped the bundle onto the chair. It was almost bedtime, but she needed her medication first.
Back in the living room, there was a pile of big-box store bags on the coffee table.
But no sign of a drugstore bag. Maybe it was inside the others.
She grabbed the first and opened it. Potato chips, a mango, four apples, two oranges, a paring knife, and some chocolate bars.
How long did he think they were staying?
The next bag had cheezie puffs, mini-muffins, black and red licorice, hot cocoa packets, and small bottles of juice. Apparently, a famine was coming. She shook her head in bemusement. What wasn’t there was her pain medication.
“Help yourself to anything you want,” he said.
She jerked in surprise. “Sorry for snooping. I was looking for my meds. You did grab them, right?”
“I did.” He smiled. “Help yourself to a snack. The pills are in my jacket, I’ll grab them.”
She watched him rummage in his jacket. He was freshly showered and wearing a set of navy pajamas. She snickered. He didn’t strike her as the pajama type. Suddenly, her overtired mind flashed a mental image of him in those pajama pants, sans top. Oh, boy!
To distract herself, she turned on the television and, after much flipping, found a documentary to watch. She opened a juice and took the pills from him as he joined her on the sofa.
“I know you said road trip food needs to look like a kid was given a hundred dollars to spend on whatever he wanted, but I had to grab something with a bit of nutrition.”
“We’ll never eat all this,” she argued.
“Probably not, I’ll just take it home.”
“Makes sense.” Suddenly, she realized her light blue pajamas were covered in tiny kittens, and his in tiny kitten paw prints. Good heavens, they matched. She started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” He gave her a puzzled look.
She tried to answer, but only laughed harder. He gave her a puzzled look, making her laugh harder. And harder and harder.
His frown turned to a grin, then to a full-on smile and chuckle. Soon, he was laughing as hard as she was.
Several moments later, sides splitting, she finally stopped laughing, and managed to breathlessly squeak out, “Our pajamas match.” She laughed again.
“Yup,” he chuckled. “I picked them that way.” His smile was beautiful, showing his dimples and lighting his eyes. “We’re partners, and I wanted you to have something to remember this trip by.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget this trip,” she said honestly. “It’s been something. Mostly good, with a hard knock or two.” She rapped on the side of her cast. “But I’ll remember it.” She leaned back, and he leaned with her. “Ten minutes of TV until my meds kick in, then I’m out of here.”
“Perfect plan.”