A Thanksgiving To Remember. Margaret Watson

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A Thanksgiving To Remember - Margaret  Watson

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and it wouldn’t be long before they had snow in Grand Springs.

      Tina did her morning chores automatically, then sat down to read her newspaper and drink a cup of coffee. The newspaper was full of stories about Jonathan Steele’s masquerade ball and the murders of his brother David and sister-in-law Lisa. Finally, Tina closed the paper and went upstairs to get dressed. She was too restless to stay at home until her shift started. Besides, with all the patients who had been admitted the night before, they probably needed extra hands to help out.

      “Face it,” she told herself, “you just want to get back to the hospital to see Tom Flynt.”

      Of course she wanted to see how her patient was doing, she thought defensively. She had spent a great deal of time with him the night before. It was only natural to be curious.

      But her interest was far more than curiosity. Here in the safety of her own house, she could admit it. Tom Flynt had fascinated her. And the fact that he had been carrying a gun only compounded her interest.

      “I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” she scolded herself, as she pulled on a clean white uniform. “You, of all people, should know enough to stay away from a man with a gun.”

      But it didn’t matter. She was suddenly in a fever of anticipation to get back to the hospital and see if Tom Flynt had woken up, and how he was doing. Once he was awake, her interest would end, she told herself. Once she’d talked to him, she’d see he was an ordinary man, just like all the others. And on top of that, a man who carried a gun.

      She drove through Grand Springs, marveling at the fact that everything looked so normal. There was no trace of the chaos and tragedy that had struck the town the night before. It looked like the peaceful, quiet place it had been since the last disaster, a blackout, had hit the town several years earlier.

      When she arrived at the hospital, a couple of hours early for her shift, she hurried to her floor. She almost swept past the nursing desk, but stopped herself just in time. She paused and smiled at the harried-looking nurse reading a file.

      “Hi, Sue,” she said, and the nurse looked up at her.

      “Oh, hi, Tina,” she answered, surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here? You’re on afternoons, aren’t you?”

      “Yes, but I figured we’d be busy so I thought I’d come in early.”

      Sue’s face relaxed in a grateful smile. “That’s great. Thanks. We’ve been running all day. We can always count on you, Tina.”

      Tina nodded in the direction of Tom’s room, hoping her interest looked casual. “I took care of Tom Flynt, the man with the concussion. How’s he doing?”

      Sue grabbed Tom’s chart and glanced at it. “About the same, it looks like.”

      “Is he still unconscious?”

      “As far as I know.”

      Tina nodded. “I think I’ll look in on him, as long as I’m here.”

      Tina hurried away from the desk and stepped into Tom’s room. It was much brighter in the light of day, and the sunlight slanted off his face, making his beard look dark and heavy. It didn’t look like he’d moved since she had left a few hours before.

      She stood watching him for a moment, then sat down in the chair that still stood next to his bed. “Hi, Tom,” she said in a low voice, as she watched him. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing before I reported in to work.”

      As she spoke to him, she thought she saw him stir. She paused for a moment, then spoke again, in the same low voice. “Are you getting ready to wake up? It’s all right. You’re safe now, and there are a lot of people here to help take care of you.”

      This time he definitely moved, and Tina’s hands tightened on the bed rail. She saw his throat muscles ripple as he swallowed once, then his eyes fluttered open.

      Her first thought was that he had beautiful eyes. They were light brown, the color of well-aged whiskey. When she realized what she was thinking, she shook her head. What was the matter with her?

      She leaned toward the bed. “Hello, Tom,” she said in a low voice. “How do you feel?”

      He looked up at her, a puzzled look on his face. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on?”

      It wasn’t unusual for accident victims not to recall their accident once they recovered consciousness. “You had a car accident last night, just outside Grand Springs city limits. You’re at Vanderbilt Memorial Hospital, and you’re going to be fine.” She smiled down at him and lightly touched his hand. “The doctor can tell you exactly what’s wrong with you, but you have a cut on your head that we sutured, and you had a concussion. Hold on a minute, I want to get the doctor.”

      She hurried out of the room and down to the desk. “Sue, Tom Flynt just woke up. Will you call the doctor? I’ll go back and stay with him.”

      Without waiting for an answer, Tina hurried back to the hospital room. Tom Flynt was trying to sit up, and Tina eased him back onto the bed. “Why don’t you wait until the doctor gets here before you try to get up? He’s going to want to take a good look at you, Mr. Flynt.”

      He stared at her, and she saw the confusion in his eyes, and the growing fear. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice harsh and scratchy. “What car accident? What’s Grand Springs? And who is Tom Flynt?”

      Chapter 2

      Without pausing to think, Tina took his hand again. This time, his fingers curled around hers, holding on with an intensity that almost hurt.

      “You’re Tom Flynt,” she said gently. “That’s your name.”

      He frowned up at her. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”

      “You had a car accident. Do you remember anything about that?”

      She watched him thinking, then he began to shake his head. He stopped immediately, pain creasing his face. “No. I don’t remember anything about a car accident.”

      “That’s not unusual. The mind often blocks out traumatic memories. Many people who have been in an accident can’t remember what happened.”

      “What did you say my name was?”

      “Tom Flynt.” She waited to see if there was any recognition in his eyes. There wasn’t.

      “What was the name of the town?” he asked.

      “Grand Springs. In Colorado,” she added.

      She saw the fear creeping into his eyes. “Do I live here?”

      “I have no idea, Mr. Flynt. The police haven’t told me.”

      “Police?” The tone of his voice changed, became more urgent. “Why are the police involved?”

      “Because of the car accident,” she said patiently. “They’re investigating it.”

      She saw him frown again, as if he were trying to concentrate.

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