withholding information.
Her pupils weren’t enlarged. They were identical in size. And when he shone his light in her eyes, they both responded normally.
“How bad is your headache?” He wasn’t giving her a chance to tell him she didn’t have one.
“On a scale of one to ten, I’d give it a six.”
Medical professionals commonly asked patients to rate their pain on the one to ten scale. But a scale of one to ten was used so much it was almost cliché, too.
“Who hit you?”
“I’d rather not say.”
He wanted to push. Didn’t want her to leave. Legally, he couldn’t make her stay. He could only call for emergency service and hope that she didn’t get far enough that they couldn’t find her. But she could refuse to go with them even if he did that.
And what if she did manage to escape? And then died out in the wilderness?
“You need to get checked out at a hospital.”
“You think the doctors there are better than you?”
They could see with both eyes. He didn’t speak aloud. For what he was doing there with her...one eye was plenty.
“They have the equipment to do the proper tests,” he told her. He had to advise her. It was his job. His life’s work.
“I’m not going to any hospital.”
She also didn’t try to sit up again.
“So...I’ll make a deal with you,” he told her, talking on the fly. “You agree to let me get you cleaned up, get a good look at you, do what I can here...you agree to let me take your vitals regularly and to watch you for any sign of more serious injury...and I won’t make any calls. For now.”
“Okay,” she said. Closing her eyes again and opening them. “For now.”
She was watching him but looked like the effort to do so was costing her.
He couldn’t help but wonder what she was really thinking. But he was pretty sure it had to do with leaving as soon as she could.
“You can trust me,” he told her. And then, reaching down into his bag, he pulled out his ID, showing it to her.
She read. “Los Angeles Children’s?”
He nodded and was left with the impression that she knew of the place. Los Angeles was a good ten-hour drive from Prospector, with only enough stops to pee and gas up. Did she know someone from there? Or someone who’d been treated there?
“Do you have any other questions?” He couldn’t guarantee he’d answer them, but if he could prove that he wouldn’t hurt her, he’d do his best.
“No.”
He had questions. And wondered if she’d declined his invitation to ask him anything so that he wouldn’t feel free to do the same.
“Who hit you?”
She turned her head.
“You said he doesn’t ever hit you in the abdomen.”
“Nor on the mouth.”
“Your bruises show signs of previous abuse.”
“He gets tense and...”
“Who is he?” Simon was pretty sure he knew. But he had to make sure. Had to know what he was letting himself in for.
What he might have to protect them both against.
He had a hunting rifle with him. A basic .22 in case of unwanted varmints.
“My husband.”
His heart dropped. Confirmation...and yet...wow. She was so young. With such soulful, intelligent eyes.
And a face swollen almost out of recognition.
“Is he coming after you?” He had to know.
“I don’t think so.” For the first time, she looked away when she answered him.
“I need to know the truth.”
Glancing back at him, she said, “That is the truth. I think he thinks I’m as good as dead, if not gone already. I slurred my words. Started walking crooked. Talking crazy. Told him he had two faces.”
Symptoms of a brain bleed. “You need to get to a hospital.”
“I lied and faked it all. I just wanted him to quit hitting me.”
He had a feeling it hadn’t been nearly as easy to fool the bastard as she made it sound.
“Won’t he get suspicious when he finds you gone?”
“He drove me up here, hauled me out into the woods and left me there. That was sometime yesterday. I think.”
Holy hell! What kind of a beast did that to his own wife?
Studying her face, seeing small lines in her stretched skin, indicating previously healed lacerations, he knew he’d already answered his own silent question. Only a beast would do something like that.
He’d left her to die. And...
Their gazes met. For the first time, he saw stark fear in hers. It was almost as though he’d heard her words before she said them aloud. “He can’t know I’m still alive. If you alert anyone, he might find out...”
Simon wasn’t in the market for company. At all. Of any kind.
But he wasn’t turning her away.
He might be half-blind. A failure. He was not cruel.
“If you stay here, I won’t alert anyone. If you go, I will.”
“How long do plan to keep me prisoner?” The unflappable voice was back.
Maybe he should have seen the question coming. Figured a woman who was used to beatings might think that way. He was used to trying to put himself in young minds when it came to his patients.
“As a doctor, I can’t just let you walk out of here in this condition. You die and it’s on me. Believe me, I’m not up for any more of that kind of guilt right now. I want you to stay here for as long as it takes to get you healthy. I need to start you on antibiotics, too,” he told her, hurrying there at the end.
He’d said too much. I’m not up for any more of that kind of guilt right now.
Clearly, he was out of practice when it came to acting like a rational member of society, or even holding a normal conversation.
Hence his extended trip to the woods. And...maybe...a little bit because of it.
She
