HAPTER ONE
I was cold.
So cold I could barely comprehend it. Bone-chilled cold. Cold on a level that a whimper escaped my mouth, and I could have sworn the breath it produced instantly turned to an icy cloud. I gasped. It was a great gasp like a newborn might make. Bright lights illuminated the room, though I couldn’t see much. My eyelids seemed to require great strength to move and blink, as if they were frozen to my eyes. Bizarrely, or maybe not, I wished for my mother. And a heated blanket. Anyone, or anything, to warm me. Then it was all just noise. People shouting. A doctor in a white lab coat above me rubbed two metal paddles together, which made a loud whirring noise. A woman shouted, “She’s almost there! Keep going!” And then everything went black. Even in the blackness, I still felt cold.
When I came out of the blackness and struggled to open my eyes again, I was still absolutely chilled to the bone. Some kind of frenzied, bustling activity was still going on around me. People were still shouting. One man’s voice rose above the rest.
“We’ve got her! She’s trying to open her eyes again! I think we’ve really got her!”
I vaguely understood that her seemed to be me, but I couldn’t make sense of much else. Within seconds, my eyes closed again and I began sinking back into the blackness.
When I came out of it once more, my surroundings were much quieter. The air held the sharp scent of antiseptic. I was still cold, though maybe just slightly less so than I’d been before. Now I felt chilled, not downright frozen. Something with a bit of weight to it, more weight than an average blanket, was covering me from throat to toe, and this thing was radiating warmth. I wanted ten of these things on me. I wanted a hundred.
Opening my eyelids wasn’t exactly easy now, because they still felt iced to my eyeballs in a strange way, rusty somehow, but the task was easier than it had been earlier. However, I only opened my eyes a crack at first. The room was too bright and too white, and it kind of hurt to let much of that brightness and whiteness in. Immediately, there was some kind of rustling movement beside me, and I heard a woman’s voice.
“I’ll shut the blinds, dear. I imagine bright sun might be painful for a while.”
Soon the room was dimmed, and the woman who had spoken came back to stand at my bedside. Opening my eyes just a crack further, I saw that she was an older woman, maybe in her late sixties. She had a pleasing, round face and twinkling brown eyes. Her full bosom strained against the buttons lining the front of a crisp, white dress.
With her hands on a shiny metal bedside railing, she smiled at me. “I’m Irene. I’m one of the nurses who’s been looking after you. However, maybe ‘fretting about you’ might be more apt. Some of the young women we thaw don’t make it through, and I’d be lying if I said you didn’t put my heart in my throat a couple of times.” Smiling again, though now with her eyes suddenly pinking up a bit, she paused. “You were one tough cookie...a real fighter. Commander Wallace said he knew you’d be.”
Thoroughly confused, though not in any urgent or invested way, as if I was confused on behalf of someone other than my own self, I opened my mouth and asked who or what I’d “fought” against and who Commander Wallace was. Or, I tried to ask these things, anyway. But instead of words, I just made a series of feeble croaks.
Irene smiled yet again and began smoothing my hair. “It’s okay. Don’t strain yourself to talk just yet. Your voice will come back very soon. And right now, it’s time for me to get Dr. Moore so she can look you over real quick. Then, we’ll see if you’re able to get out of bed on your own, walk, use the restroom by yourself, and all those kinds of things. Your muscles shouldn’t have atrophied at all, though it may feel strange to use them and simply move around on your own for a while. If you need a wheelchair, that will be no problem at all.”
I tried to say that I never wanted to get out from beneath whatever warm, heavyish thing was covering me, but like before, I only managed a series of croaks.
Telling me again to not strain my voice, Irene continued smoothing my hair, then stopped and looked from it to my face. “What beautiful chestnut-colored hair you have. Amazing that you didn’t lose any of it during the whole process, since most do, but you’ll be happy to know that your beautiful hair is very healthy-looking and thick and long. Some girls who survive their thawing, come out a little worse for the wear, but not you. You’re a lucky young woman, on many different levels.”
She gave me another smile, this one accompanied by the faintest hint of a wink. Then she turned and left the room, her white, rubber-soled shoes making only the softest of noises.
I had no idea what she’d meant, of course, about me being “lucky” and on “many different levels.” I had no idea what she’d meant about anything. I really had no idea about anything, period. Though, at the same time, I really wasn’t very concerned about this. My primary focus was on continuing to warm up from whatever had made me so cold.
With Irene now gone, I surveyed my surroundings some more, at least as best as I could from my position in bed -- on my back with just a single pillow, it felt like, propping up my head. The room was mercifully dim, lit by only a single pale light somewhere up above my head. There was equally pale sunlight filtering through the blinds, making it somewhat difficult to see, though I could still see well enough.
Obviously, I was in a hospital or clinic; medical paraphernalia and quietly beeping machines all around the room told me that. As did the scent of the place, which I now realized was an antiseptic scent with a strong note of pine cleaner. The somewhat heavy warmth covering my body was a blanket, but it was unlike any blanket I’d ever seen before. It was moving. And moving almost imperceptibly, but just enough that I could tell. It appeared to be something like two blankets in one, with a blanket I could feel against my skin topped with another and some sort of an air pocket in between them. This air pocket seemed like it was being filled with warm air by a quietly-whirring machine by my bedside. Every few seconds, this warm air would cause the lightest of ripples to move through the top blanket, which was a light salmon color bordering on peach.
I felt like I should be scared. Or agitated, or stressed, or any number of other things that I just wasn’t. I was just still cold. Still cold, and determined to remain under the special heated blanket, no matter what.
Probably not even a minute had passed before a tall, thin woman came striding into the room, followed by Irene. She had gray hair wound in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she held a clipboard to her chest, pressed to the front of her white lab jacket.
After coming to a stop beside, she gave me a small, polite smile. “Welcome back. I’m Dr. Moore. How do you feel? Just try to whisper if talking is too difficult right now.”
I thought about her question for a long moment, my brain seeming to be working slowly. “Cold. But...starting to warm up a little.” Realizing that my voice was finally working, though still extremely hoarse, I cleared my throat before continuing. “I’m okay, I guess. Nothing hurts.”
“Good. Do you remember your name?”
Stupidly, I just stared up at Dr. Moore briefly, blinking. “My name?”
“Your name. What you were called... before.”
Suddenly, my state of not being scared or stressed began to change. I couldn’t remember my name. I couldn’t even remember what letter it started with. Despite how cold I still felt, my face became hot.
Fighting a rising feeling of panic, I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just don’t... I don’t remember what...” I shook my head again, swallowing. “Something’s really wrong with me.”
I began struggling to sit up, experiencing a wave of mild pain course through my entire body. And maybe it wasn’t so much pain as it was an achy, stiff soreness, but it was enough to make me wince.
“Oh. Kind of hurts.”
Even before I’d finished speaking the words, Irene began coaxing me back down, telling me to just relax. “That’s right... just take it easy, and we’ll explain everything. But first, let’s let Dr. Moore check your eyes and a few other things. Just lie back and relax.”
Reluctantly, I did as I was told, still fighting more than a bit of panic. Up to this point, I’d had a sense that things happening around me were sort of happening to someone else in a way, someone who was me, yet detached from me. But now, things felt intensely personal and frightening. Now I wasn’t just a cold woman who couldn’t really recall how she’d gotten that way, but a woman who didn’t even know her own name and didn’t even have a guess as to what it was. I was a woman with no name and no memory, it seemed. And that fact filled me with dread. I didn’t know much at that moment, but I knew I was an adult woman, and an adult woman should know her own damn name.
While I quietly wracked my brain to no avail, Dr. Moore checked my eyes with a light, then briefly lifted my precious heating blanket to poke and press on my stomach. Then, after she’d tested my reflexes and pulse while Irene removed an IV line from my arm, she declared me in good health.
“Just a bit of amnesia, which happens to most upon awakening. It’s the kind where you still have knowledge of the world and how it functions, but no personal knowledge or memory. It should slowly pass.”
Now on my back again, I stared up at Dr. Moore uncomprehendingly. “What... what happened to me? And where am I, by the way?”
I couldn’t quite remember where home was, but I sensed that I hadn’t permanently lived in a hospital before whatever had happened to me had happened.
Dr. Moore studied my face with her serious expression betraying a brief flash of sympathy. “Do you remember anything at all? Maybe like your family, or your home? Even any vague, tiny details? Sometimes it helps to focus on one particular thing you do remember, let your mind wrap around it a bit, and go from there.”
I didn’t remember my family or my home. I had some sense of a warm, loving feeling associated with my mom. I wished she was there with me right then, though I couldn’t quite remember who she was. I couldn’t even remotely picture her face.
In response to Dr. Moore, I shook my head. “Sorry. All I remember right now is coming out of some sort of blackness, freezing cold. And then it was more blackness a couple of times, and I was still freezing cold, and then...” I sighed, growing ever more agitated. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand what’s happened to me.”
Dr. Moore told me to just try to rest, and not worry, and everything would likely come back to me in due time. She whispered something to Irene before exiting the room, her dark, high-heeled shoes clicking on the hard flooring. I hadn’t been able to catch all she said, but I had caught two hushed words: forced and sedative.
The moment she was gone, I raised myself up on my elbows to look at Irene, despite that the action made my arms ache, and despite the fact that it made the heating blanket fall from my chest. “Don’t you dare sedate me against my will, Irene. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you even try, I won’t be the only one in a hospital bed.”
With the corners of her pink-lipsticked lips twitching, she took a seat in a metal folding chair by my bedside. “This is precisely the kind of spirit Commander Wallace indicated I could expect.”
“Well, I’ll put him in a hospital bed, too, if he dares try to sedate me against my will. Whoever he is.”
Irene actually stifled a giggle. “Well, that might be considered some sort of an assassination attempt, my dear, and something just tells me you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in a prison cell.
See, Commander Wallace is our commander-in-chief. He’s like the presidents used to be, except we have more of a military setup to the government here now, and the commander-in-chief holds the post for the duration of his life, then passes the title down to his oldest son, instead of being elected.
Unless a commander dies or is killed in battle without having a son, that is, which was what happened to our last commander. Then, a special election is held where citizens may vote for a new commander from a pool of the military’s elite generals. This is how Commander Wallace came to be commander-in-chief a few years ago, and what a beloved and well-respected one he is. Maybe the most beloved and well-respected commander we’ve ever had in our entire history. The people love him, and all his men would die for him; I’m certain of it.”
“So, he’s a... he’s a kind man?”
I wanted to make sure that wherever I was, it wasn’t somewhere controlled by some sort of a military dictator.
Irene nodded. “Yes, Commander Wallace is a kind man. Which isn’t to say he’s exactly a warm-and-fuzzy kind of leader, but... well, he has to be stern at times in order to lead effectively and keep the Gorgolians from taking over our territory. That’s part of the reason everyone loves him so much. Since he’s become commander of the UFS and leader of the CFS, we haven’t ceded a single inch of our territory. Not one inch.
In fact, we’ve even reclaimed some land from the Gorgolians and have freed thousands of people from their tyranny in the process. Thousands of people who were essentially slaves. Can you imagine that? How unbelievably happy those folks must have been? To be slaves from birth, and then to finally have the freedom to control their own destinies.
Some of the men were so grateful that they immediately pledged their allegiance to Commander Wallace, the UFS, and the CFS for the rest of their lives. Which is good, because we can always use extra dragons to fight on our side, especially with our little reproduction problem of the past decade or so.”
Irene paused for breath, crossing one thick leg over the other. I just stared at her, not knowing what to say. I was beginning to feel as if I was in some sort of a bizarre dream. Only I couldn’t exactly remember what things were like during waking hours.
After studying my face for a quick moment, wincing slightly, Irene continued. “I’m sorry. I do tend to go on and on at times, and I have a feeling this is one of them. But, anyway, do you have any questions about anything I just said?”
I had about a thousand. I still didn’t know what had happened to me or what my name was, but like Dr. Moore had thought I might, I knew basic things about the world. Specifically, I knew that dragons didn’t live in it. They simply didn’t exist. The very thought was preposterous. Also, I knew that the country I lived in was called the United States of America, and Irene kept saying “the UFS” and “the CFS,” two things or places I didn’t think I’d ever heard of before. They certainly didn’t sound familiar. They certainly weren’t places I’d ever heard about on the news.
But, to my surprise, to my astonishment, actually, I found that dragons and unfamiliar countries weren’t the things I wanted to ask questions about first.
Pulling the heated blanket up around my chin, even though my face was now a bit warm, I cleared my throat, struggling to maintain eye contact with Irene. “Well, um... this ‘Commander Wallace’ you keep talking about. Does he know me or something? Or, am I... am I supposed to meet him sometime or something?”
Irene responded with a pronounced twinkle in her warm, amber-brown eyes. “Well, as a matter of fact, yes. To both your questions. You’ll be having a child with Commander Wallace. You’ll be starting that process with him very soon.”
*
My jaw literally dropped. I wasn’t quite sure I’d heard Irene correctly, but at the same time, I just knew I had. I just couldn’t make any sense of what she’d said.
Beginning to hyperventilate, I closed my mouth, but only for a moment until I spoke. “I’m going to have a child with Commander Wallace, am I? Now, just what in the hell gives you the right to presume that I’m even remotely interested in having a child with a man I’ve never even met, or certainly don’t remember meeting, at least, and—”
“Just relax, dear. Just relax. Before I give you a forced sedative.”
My jaw dropped again, and I gaped at Irene, incredulous.
“Well, at first, I thought you were a kindly nurse, but now—”
“Relax, dear. It was just a joke. Just a very ill-timed joke.”
A little twinkle in her warm brown eyes told me that it really had been just a joke.
Shivering a little, I realized the special heated blanket had fallen from my chest while I’d been sitting up in bed. I pulled it back up to my chin, eying Irene. “Well, I hope it was just a joke... because I’m not the type of person who enjoys having anything forced upon them. Especially not when I can sense that I’ve already been knocked out or something once before, or something else strange happened to make me so cold. I don’t want it to happen again. At least not until I get answers about some of the things you’ve said.”
Particularly the preposterous thing she’d said about me having a child with Commander Wallace. If this supposedly heroic, beloved leader even really existed. If I wasn’t in some bizarre dream.
Wearing an expression of what appeared to be genuine contrition, Irene uncrossed her short legs and leaned forward in her metal folding chair, arms on knees. “I’m really sorry about my little joke, and also sorry if I’ve laid too much info on you at once, which I think I have, with my big mouth that’s always getting me into trouble. We’ll take it very, very slow and easy from here on out; I promise. And no forced sedation, even if you do get a little overly stressed out at any point; I promise you that, too.
We won’t be following doctor’s orders on that one. See, Dr. Moore means well, and she’s a good person and a good doctor, but here’s a little secret. Sometimes doctors don’t always know best. Sometimes nurses do. Nurses have a way of knowing just exactly what a patient needs to help them recover, and nurses know that it’s different for every patient. And right now, I think I know just exactly what you need.”
I was intrigued enough to momentarily forget what Irene had said about Commander Wallace and me. Hoping she knew me better than I knew myself at present, which was not at all, I sat up a little straighter, kind of unconsciously leaning toward her. “What is it? What do I need?”
“A little independence and control. I think a good start on that is seeing if you can manage to get out of bed on your own. Then, we’ll see if you can make it to the bathroom on your own. Then, we’ll see if you’re ready for some food.”
Food. At the mere thought of it, my stomach instantly lurched. Though not in a sick way, this was something different. This was something I knew I’d never experienced before. It was as if my stomach had been simply rocked by a hunger pang. It was as if I’d experienced a hunger pang so severe that my stomach had attempted to push something up instead of take something in, so profoundly empty, it was confused.
“Irene. I’ve got to have some food right now. And, I mean...” I clutched my stomach through the heating blanket while another hunger pang hit me as strong as a punch to the gut. “I feel like I haven’t had anything to eat in hundreds of years.”
Irene gave me a funny sort of look I couldn’t quite interpret, something like a strange mix of sympathy mixed with surprise maybe, then she got up from her chair and extended a hand to me. “Up, up, up. If you can throw on a robe and walk down to the staff lounge holding my arm, you’ll have earned yourself a buffet of delicacies such as turkey and Swiss on honey wheat, fruit salad, and I think there might even be a big crock of hot, homemade minestrone soup down there. And of course I’m completely kidding about the ‘delicacies’ part. We do have delicacies here, but I know plain old soup isn’t—”
“Soup sounds amazing.”
Lukewarm water with a few wilted pieces of vegetable floating in it would have sounded amazing to me right then.
It turned out I could get out of bed and walk on my own just fine, even though my muscles and joints felt oddly creaky, sore, and stiff, as if I hadn’t used them in ages. It also turned out that I could also use the restroom by myself just fine, which was good, because right after getting out of bed, I realized that I had to visit the facilities urgently, even more urgently than I needed to eat.
After that, Irene and I began making our way down a long, white-walled corridor to the staff lounge. Blessedly, Irene had called down to another nurse and had her dim the lights and pull blinds over all windows so my eyes wouldn’t hurt. Even a single bulb with a frosted glass cover in the bathroom had kind of made me flinch.
I noticed that other than a few smiling nurses sitting at a large, cream-colored main desk, the corridor seemed to be deserted. I didn’t see a single patient or visitor out for a stroll, and there didn’t seem to be any patients at all in any of the darkened rooms lining each side of the hall.
Shuffling along while my creaky knees began to loosen up a bit, I glanced over at Irene. “So... people in this town, or city, or wherever I am, don’t get sick very often?”
“Well, no, they do... but this is one of the ‘warm-up’ floors of the hospital, where young women like you go to get warm again. This week, you’ve been our only patient. Though even if there had been others, I think you still would have gotten your own floor.”
“And why is that?”
“Well... because of...” Irene paused to glance over at me. “Because of what’s to come between you and Commander Wallace in the future, you’re very special. You’re very special to all the people of the CFS. If things go well, which I have complete faith that they will, I think you’ll be very special for the rest of your life. So, you’ll have to get used to some special treatment and attention.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to think about what Irene just said. I was having a hard enough time trying to keep my slow, somewhat herky-jerky gait in a straight line. And right then, I smelled a scent so delicious that it drove all other thoughts right out of my head. It was the scent of rich, hot, simmering soup. Instantly, my mouth began to water. My eyes must have widened, too, because after a quick look at my face, Irene hooked an arm around my shoulders and began trying to help me walk faster.
“Almost there... and I hope my homemade soup will live up to your expectations. It’s a closely-guarded family recipe... ten great-grandmothers back, I think. All the way back from the time before the Great Dragon War. You were probably only... well, I suppose you were only about the same age as you are right now. About twenty-five, I’d guess? Twenty-six? Though the Great Dragon War was a very, very long time ago, of course.”
I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what Irene was talking about, and right then, I didn’t even want to try. As rude and greedy as it may have been, I just wanted her soup. I just wanted a lot of it. I normally tried to use polite table manners and be fairly ladylike when I ate, but at present, I honestly just wanted to plant my face in a huge bowl. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said it felt like it had been hundreds of years since I’d last eaten.
In addition to hunger pangs so intense I felt like my stomach was turning inside out, my hands were even shaking, and I could also feel a light sheen of perspiration breaking out across my forehead. I was hungrier than I’d ever been in my life, by far. I was hungry to the point that I was embarrassed by it, almost too embarrassed to speak.
Once in the spacious staff lounge, I did, however, manage to croak out the words two and please when Irene asked me how many sandwiches I wanted. Then, pushing through my embarrassment, I changed my request to three.
Quickly transferring thick, hearty, turkey-and-Swiss sandwiches from a covered platter to a plate, Irene glanced over her shoulder at me, smiling. “Don’t be embarrassed to ask for however many sandwiches you’d like, even if that number seems absurdly high to you. This feeling of intense hunger is very typical. It just means you’re alive, and your body is just screaming for nourishment after all this time. I’ve seen newly-warmed young women eat half a cow before, almost literally.
Strangely, it never seems to cause stomach problems... as if the body is so eager for sustenance that it knows just how to absorb it into every last cell without causing digestive troubles. I’ve even seen a few young women polish off entire platters of sandwiches all by themselves with no ill-effects before; entire family-sized bowls of fruit, you name it.”
I wondered just who in the hell these half-cow inhaling young women were. I wondered why it seemed I was well on my way to becoming one.
While my soup cooled, I chomped through three-and-a-half sandwiches before moving on to a delectable fruit salad tossed with walnuts and creamy vanilla yogurt. Everything seemed to just melt on my tongue. I was so intent on my task that I couldn’t even speak -- just bite, chew, and swallow while the profound emptiness of my stomach began to fill, fraction by fraction.
I was glad Irene had flicked on a radio tuned to soft classical music before she’d sat down, because the noisy, rapid chewing sounds I was making would have made any decent person feel mortified, and were they the only sounds in the room. Though I was mortified anyway. I’d officially joined the half-cow-inhaler club.
Sitting across from me at one of two round, cream-colored tables in the room, Irene sat nibbling on a sandwich and leafing through medical charts, every so often glancing up at me with a little smile. I was glad she was kind. I was glad she didn’t seem to think that I was absolutely disgusting, or at least wasn’t showing it.
Her old-recipe minestrone soup not only lived up to my expectations, it shattered them with a baseball bat. Dense with mini pasta shells, beans, zucchini, and carrots in a thick tomato-basil base, Irene’s soup was miraculous, and after several large spoonfuls, I told her so.
“I can see your nursing skills at play even in your cooking, because this is the kind of soup that could just about bring someone back from the brink of death.”
Eying me from over the top of a chart, Irene suddenly stifled something like a giggle. “Well, thank you. Maybe I should have given you some yesterday. Might have made the whole process quicker.”
I set down a near-empty glass of milk and picked up my soup-spoon again, preoccupied with eagerly anticipating the next delicious bite. “What’s that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
As I went along stuffing my face, and there was no other way of putting it, a feeling of euphoria began building inside of me. All the questions I had for Irene, and there were many, didn’t even matter anymore. Nothing did. Nothing except the fact that I was finally beginning to feel full and warm for the first time in I didn’t even know how long. It felt like centuries.
I polished off three big bowls of soup and had just started in on more fruit salad when a few inexplicable chuckles tumbled out of my mouth. Nothing was particularly funny, but I just couldn’t stop them.
I swallowed a bite of yogurt-covered apple, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Sorry, Irene. I’ve got the giggles, and I don’t even know why. I just want to laugh for some reason.”
She set down a chart, smiling. “You’ve got the full belly, warm body high. Happens a lot post-thaw. It’s like you young women are reborn again with the joy of babies and children. It’s always nice to see, though it doesn’t last long, so enjoy it while you can.”
I laughed, spearing a few grapes with my fork. “I don’t even understand half of what you’re saying, and I haven’t all day, but it’s just striking me as kind of funny right now. Sorry.”
Irene chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. This is one of my favorite parts of being a warm-up nurse; just seeing a young woman experience joy after what she’s been through. The high is often contagious, too, I should tell you. I’ve been known to share in a giggle fit or two myself.”
She soon demonstrated that when we both laughed uproariously when, instead of spearing a grape, the tines of my fork just slid off the side, somehow shooting it off my plate and sending it sailing across the room. What would normally be cause for maybe a light chuckle, now had tears in our eyes.
After more laughter and after I’d made quick work of yet another enormous helping of fruit salad, probably my fourth, I sat back in my chair, running a hand over my very rounded and finally-full belly. “What was that silliness you were saying about me having a child with some commander? Well, look at me. I look like I’m pregnant already.”
I patted my distended stomach and looked up at Irene, laughing once again. Just in time to see a man standing in the doorway of the lounge. To my horror, an expression of amusement flickering across his handsome face told me he’d probably been standing there at least long enough to hear what I’d just said.
He was in his early to mid-thirties, and handsome didn’t really even begin to describe his face. Maybe beyond handsome would have been more accurate. Or impossibly handsome. All I knew was that his face made my heart feel as if had just been launched in the air like that slippery grape. With a strong, masculine jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and eyes such a deep, dark blue they were a shade of midnight, his face seemed to me like a work of art. A rugged work of art maybe, with a bit of dark stubble across the lower portion of the “canvas.”
All muscle and hard ridges, the man’s physique was no less impressive. He stood a good several inches over six feet tall with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and slim hips. Some kind of a military uniform of black boots, black pants, and a collared black shirt with dark patches on the top of one sleeve showed off these features to their best advantage. Knowing I was blushing a little, because of how round my stomach was and what he’d heard me say, I took all this in within a quick second, willing my jaw not to drop.
With his dark blue eyes holding just the faintest hint of a twinkle, the man cleared his throat, his gaze on Irene and me. “Please excuse me, ladies. I didn’t know the two of you were having lunch.”
Irene, who’d whipped around in her seat to look toward the doorway when I’d suddenly stopped laughing, now heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose you’re excused, Commander Wallace, though I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you. Didn’t the other nurses tell you our patient is having a bite to eat?”
A bite. Understatement of the year.
Commander Wallace shook his head. “There wasn’t anyone at the station when I passed by just now. Dr. Moore sent me a text saying that our patient was awake, so I rushed up here to make sure all was okay, though I didn’t plan on intruding upon our patient. I just figured I’d talk to you or Dr. Moore privately, and I certainly didn’t expect to find our patient here in the staff lounge.”
“Well, did you think I’d allow her to eat the tasteless slop they deliver to the rooms and serve up in the cafeteria? No, sir. Not when there’s homemade soup available. Not when our patient was hungrier for more than a bland little snack.”
Commander Wallace nodded, eyes still twinkling. “Of course.” While Irene muttered another disparaging remark about the quality of the hospital cafeteria food, he strode across the room, came to a stop by the table, and extended one large, strong-looking hand to me. “I’m Commander Jackson Wallace. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I took his hand and shook it, its firmness and warmth jumbling my thoughts further than they were already jumbled. “Likewise. I’m....” As he released my hand, I trailed off, recalling that I couldn’t recall my name. “Well, I’m still trying to figure that out. I’m a person. I’m a....” I paused again, swallowing, realizing that in contrast to his smart uniform, I was wearing standard-issue hospital garb. “I’m a person in a bathrobe.”
While I inwardly cursed myself for saying something so idiotic-sounding, he gave me a heart-stopping half-grin. “I like that shade of pale pink. It suits your fair skin.”
Right then, my fair skin burst into flames for some reason.
“Well, thank you. I just... I just threw it on, I guess.”
Irene had actually had to throw it on for me, because my shoulders had been too strangely creaky for me to move them much.
In response to what I’d said, Commander Wallace’s full lips twitched with amusement, making my face burn even hotter. At that moment, just when I was becoming absolutely terrified about what asinine thing would tumble out of my mouth next, Irene gave me a helping hand once again.
She fixed Commander Wallace with a mock-stern look, her gray brows drawn so closely together they were almost touching. “Commander, didn’t I warn you about harassing my patient? She needs to get back to her room and get some rest, and you’re keeping her from it.”
Lips still twitching, Commander Wallace shifted his gaze from me to her with what seemed like maybe just a bit of reluctance. “I’d better take my leave, then. Nothing fills my heart with as much fear as a nurse brandishing a soup ladle. Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow if I’m allowed.”
Irene nodded. “Call first.”
After promising he would and wishing us a good day, Commander Wallace took his leave, striding out the door. I watched him go, noticing what a high, tight rear he had. And what a broad, muscular back he had. And how he was the type of man a woman could spend hours just daydreaming about. I realized that for a hospital patient wearing a bathrobe that barely closed over her bloated stomach, I was beginning to have some pretty sensuous thoughts.