The danger felt all too real. If only she could open her eyes to look.
Sydney struggled to release herself from the nightmare’s hold. Her senses screamed at her to open her eyes. A crash pierced the nightmare, jarring her free. She opened her eyes and gasped for air. A bearded man with long hair stood beside her bed.
Piercing dark eyes glared down at her, plunging icy fear straight through her veins. He withdrew his hand from inside the nightstand drawer. Fingers flexed. A subtle threat. But there was no subtlety in the stare that drilled into her. The menace was real. She drew in a ragged breath of air to scream when a voice in the hall called out sharply.
“Hey, orderly! They need your help in 413! Someone fell!”
Without a word, the man turned and strode away.
Badly shaken, Sydney struggled to sit up. Pain clawed her head with needlelike talons. Dropping her chin to her chest, she pressed her palm against her throbbing temple, so dizzy she was nearly sick. The wave of vertigo passed, leaving her weak and spent in reaction. Only when she could finally open her eyes again and everything remained still did she notice the dinner tray sitting on the tray table beside her.
The drawer of her nightstand was partially open. A vase of flowers had fallen to the floor. It must have been the crash that had penetrated her nightmare.
Hand on the call button, she hesitated. Had the threat been real, or imagined? Had the orderly merely looked angry because he’d knocked over the vase and was afraid he’d be in trouble? Or was there another, more sinister reason?
Surely the police officer who’d summoned the man wouldn’t have let anyone in her room without credentials.
But years of television cop shows said anyone could get a set of credentials. And she hadn’t noticed any around his neck. Maybe he’d brought in her dinner tray and maybe he hadn’t. For certain he’d knocked over the flowers. And his hands had been inside the drawer of her nightstand. He could have been searching for something to wipe up the mess, but the memory of his cold dark eyes sent her hand to the call light.
Minutes passed. No one came. Why wasn’t anyone responding?
Shoving back the covers, Sydney stood. Dizzy, she grabbed the tray table for support. The stand began to roll.
“Mrs. Inglewood!”
A slip of a nurse rushed inside the room, barely in time to prevent her fall.
“I almost didn’t catch you! Here sit down. There’s glass all over the floor! You knocked over a vase. You should have waited for someone to come and help you up. We had an emergency. The patient down the hall just fell out of bed. He’s a large man and it took four of us to get him back in again. The last thing we need is for you to fall down, too. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
“No!”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The man who was just in here, I think he brought this tray. Do you know him?”
Puzzled, the woman stared. “I don’t know what man you’re talking about. I didn’t see who delivered the trays tonight. I’m not even the nurse for this section. I just saw your light flashing and…is there a problem?”
With the pretty young nurse looking up at her, Sydney started feeling foolish. What if she’d made a mistake? They would think she was some sort of paranoid fool. But if she hadn’t made a mistake?
“Look, I know this sounds crazy, but I woke up and found him staring at me. Are you sure he really works here?”
The nurse started looking worried. “Did he say something inappropriate? Did he touch you?”
“No. No, he didn’t do anything. I mean, besides knocking over that vase. But I don’t think he was wearing identification. You know, like yours.”
The woman relaxed slightly, though she still looked concerned. “The police aren’t letting anyone in here without identification, Mrs. Inglewood.”
“I know that! Please. Humor me. Just check him out, will you? Or have the police officer on duty check him out. Please!”
“All right. Tell me what the man looked like.”
“He had long brown hair and a beard and mustache. And piercing brown eyes.”
The nurse relaxed. “Oh, him. Don’t worry. He’s the orderly that helped us get Mr. Logler off the floor. I think he’s new, but I’ll check just to make sure.”
The loudspeaker came to life before Sydney could question that statement. “Karin Stipes, call in please.”
“That’s me. I swear there’s a full moon out tonight. The whole place is going crazy. I’ll be right back. And I’ll check on that orderly for you. You just relax. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, from what I hear.”
Sydney sank back against the pillows, feeling oddly unsettled. The nurse was placating her. She wanted to argue, but her head was killing her. If only Noah would return.
The thought surprised her. Why had she automatically thought of Noah? She didn’t even know him, and that made her inutterably sad.
It must be the combination of the drugs in her system and the terrible nightmares that were throwing her thoughts into such chaos. She shouldn’t be thinking of Noah at all.
No doubt she was simply overreacting to finding that orderly standing over her.
Sydney looked at the open drawer in her nightstand. Then she regarded the dinner tray.
And maybe she wasn’t.
Despite the nurse’s assurances, there had been something frightening about the orderly. If she was paranoid, so be it. Sydney wanted to go home.
Only, where was home? Certainly not the apartment she’d so briefly shared with Jerome. She couldn’t go back there, any more than she could take back the things she’d said to him the last time they’d talked.
She had meant every word, but that only added to her guilt. Theirs had never been a normal marriage, but she’d gone into the situation with her eyes open—for the most part. Nothing could have prepared her for the changes in Jerome once they married. Yet, despite all their battles, she’d never wished him ill. They’d made a mistake. A mistake she’d been trying to rectify.
Whether by accident or design, she couldn’t forget that Jerome had saved her life.
Sydney closed her eyes, turned her face into her pillow and gave in to the grief and fear suddenly crowding her mind. Sobs finally turned to hiccups, leaving her spent and listless. She must have fallen deeply asleep because she didn’t see or hear whoever came in and took away her tray and cleaned up the broken vase of flowers.
Surprisingly, when she did wake, even her head felt better. Time passed slowly. Her eyes were closing again when someone entered the room. His scent reached her before she could turn her head to look in his direction. When she did, she had to battle another sudden wave of vertigo.
“You still look pretty bad,” Noah said.
He
