Chapter 2
The next four hours passed in a haze. She patched, swabbed and disinfected, then readied patients for transport while the camp disassembled and moved behind the new frontline. The attack had taken them by surprise, and now there was organized chaos. Between the gunfire and the orders coming from every direction, she kept her head down and worked.
With the last of the patients attended to, she was rushed to the last helicopter. High above, she gazed down at the turmoil below, fervently saying a prayer for Ryder and the others. No way would he retreat from such an attack. The fighting had been brutal. She glanced down at her patient who studied her face. She smiled, reached out and covered his hand with hers. “You’ll be all right, soldier.”
He smiled too and closed his eyes.
At the main base, she supervised the transfers of her patients, went through a debriefing and then headed for the showers. Everything hurt from the blast, and her headache, instead of easing, had gotten worse.
She finished shampooing her hair for the second time, then turned off the water, finding blood mixed in. With a towel wrapped around her hair, she stepped from the shower and dried off. She sat down on the bench with a second towel wrapped about her body and reached up to the back of her neck. Her fingers came away with more blood. She stood up to check in the mirror but couldn’t find the wound hidden in her hairline. A doctor would have to take a closer look.
She hadn’t told anybody she had lost consciousness at the site. They’d been shorthanded for medics as it was. But the headache she’d ignored up until now started to pound. After getting dressed, she folded some paper towels and held them against where she guessed the wound was.
One of the doctors stood outside her tent, calling for her, his schedule in his hand. When she approached, he took one look and nodded toward the medical center. He walked beside her. “What happened to you?”
She gave a quick rundown as he led her into an examining room. Another nurse came. She clipped Caitlyn’s hair at the nape of her neck, then gave her a local anaesthetic. Dr. Carter, according to his name tag, stitched up the cut. “Good timing. I needed to see what your schedule was to put you into the roster. But you’re taking twenty-four hours to rest up, and we’ll see how you are then. Do you have time off coming?”
“Not sure.” She shrugged. “I’ve only got a few weeks left in my tour as it is. I think I do though.”
Nothing like a concussion to ensure confusion. By the time she reached her quarters, her thoughts were scrambled as to whether she was due leave or not.
Feeling unsteady and woozy, she lay down, stretching out with a blanket over her shoulders. She hadn’t even been aware of her injury until the blood flowed in the shower. But now that she knew … She had been given something for the pain but hadn’t even touched it yet.
With all the confusion, she’d forgotten to ask for an update on Mac. And that made her feel like a crap. She’d gotten so busy with everything that had happened after his exit that she hadn’t had a chance to even think about him.
She reached up and tentatively winced as her fingers came in contact with the stitches. If she could get a good night’s sleep, she’d be fine in the morning.
Just as she was about to drop off to sleep, she heard footsteps at the entrance to her eight-bed tent. Still, she hadn’t seen anybody else bunking here since she had arrived. A man called out, “Caitlyn?”
She froze. “Ryder?” Why was he here? She so wanted to see him but not when she was like this.
He stepped into the tent, his gaze searching the quarters before zooming toward her. A frown appeared. In several strides, he reached her bedside. “What the hell happened to you? And when?”
“I can’t remember,” she said. “Maybe flying debris from the blast clipped my head. I don’t know.”
“How bad?”
“Just a few stitches. And a mild concussion, so I’m off for the next day.”
She dropped her gaze, wishing he’d sit down and pull her into his arms. Dangerous thoughts. She just didn’t have the energy to keep her blocks up right now. She had to apologize but feared there was no going back to what they had. That she still loved this guy with the chasm between them made this all so impossible. That he was here, available to talk to, but she wasn’t … not when she was like this, made it worse again.
“Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head and then moaned as waves of blackness swam over her eyes. Gasping, she whispered, “No, I’ll be fine. I just need to lie here. Hopefully when I wake up, it will be okay.”
“Fine, you do that. I’ll come back in a couple hours to check on you.”
“You don’t have to.” She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the bedding, hoping he’d leave. Pain still rolled through her like a rocking boat in a terrible storm. She kept waiting for calm weather.
Her stomach churned alarmingly. She sat upright, shuddering as what little was in her stomach flew up her throat and out her mouth. And into a bucket. She accepted the container from Ryder even as she wondered how he had known. The trouble was, her stomach wasn’t done emptying. Three more heaves and she lay back, gasping in pain.
“Take it easy.”
She didn’t have a choice. Obviously her body wasn’t letting her do anything but take it easy. The shivers started next. She pulled the blanket over her shoulders, wishing she could disappear. There was no reason to feel ashamed, but it was hard not to. She groaned. “Go away.”
“Like hell,” he said good-naturedly. “I get you don’t want anything to do with me, but I’m not leaving you in this condition. Why aren’t you in the clinic?”
“Not that bad.”
“Right.” He picked up her hand, wrapping her fingers around a bottle. “Here’s some fresh water if you want to drink.”
With his help she sat up enough that she could fill her mouth, rinse, then spit. He held the bucket. She repeated the motion several more times, then finished with a long drink of water. She collapsed back down again, holding out the empty bottle to him. “Take this and thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll bring you another one.”
She didn’t care what he did just so long as he left her alone. Thankfully she heard his footsteps fade away.
She drifted in and out, her stomach still queasy, her head still pounding. She didn’t think it was anything serious, wasn’t exactly sure why her stomach had decided to react since she had eaten very little. Now she could get no food down. If only the shivers would stop. She curled into a fetal position with the blankets almost over her head and waited for her body to warm up. She heard his exclamation before she recognized he’d actually returned.
“That’s enough,” he said. “I’m taking you back to the clinic.”
“I’m fine,” she said, her teeth chattering so badly it was hard to talk. “They have bigger problems to deal with. I just need to get warm.”
Instantly, she was shifted gently to one side, and he lay down behind her and tucked her up close. With his arms wrapped around her, his legs pressed up against hers, it was like coming up against a heated blanket. Slowly, ever so slowly, she started to warm up.
Finally her teeth stopped chattering, and she whispered, “Thank you.”
He dropped a gentle kiss on her head, bringing tears to her eyes. And he whispered, “No problem. Now go to sleep.”
Too tired and sore, and still too cold to argue, she let her eyes drift closed and finally fell asleep.
*
Ryder held her close. Her vomiting had really worried him.
He’d seen a lot of different reactions to head injuries, and, from where he was, he counted only a few stitches, six or eight at the most, at the back of her head. She also might have more than a concussion. The doctor had clipped her hair around the torn skin at her nape and had pulled the edges together. It didn’t look deep but was raw and ugly looking. He’d seen much worse. However, what he didn’t know was if she’d sustained other injuries. No way would he sleep. Somebody needed to keep a watch on her overnight.
He glanced around the tent and saw two of the beds appeared to be claimed as duffel bags were underneath. The rest of the tent was empty. He didn’t really have any right to be here, but it was either this or he took her to the clinic. If nothing else he should let them know what kind of reaction she had had.
Had they given her drugs? Maybe she’d reacted to those? Worried, he went over the possible scenarios, afraid something much more major was going on.
Another woman walked into the tent and froze at the sight of him. He held up a finger to his lips, checked on Caitlyn to make sure she was still sleeping and slowly sat up. He walked over to the woman and said, “She was injured today. She just emptied her stomach and couldn’t get warm. She’s asleep now.”
The other woman was one of the supply chain clerks. She nodded. “I’m just here to collect my bag. Then I report to work.”
He nodded. “I want to update the doctor on her condition. Can you stay long enough for me to return?”
She frowned, checked her watch and said, “Only if you’re fast.”
He was gone instantly. He found Dr. Carter, standing at the entrance to the med center, catching a breath of fresh air. Ryder introduced himself and said, “You put stitches in Caitlyn’s head today. I don’t know if it’s important or not, but she just had a violent upchuck session and couldn’t get warm.”
The doctor frowned and said, “Are you keeping an eye on her overnight, or do you want me to watch her here?” He turned and looked inside. “We’re really short on space after the last attack.”
“That’s what Caitlyn said,” Ryder said. “She refused when I mentioned it earlier.”
“Keep an eye on her. If her symptoms persist or get any worse, bring her in. Likely she’ll be fine come morning.”
Ryder had to be content with that. He quickly retraced his steps to her tent. The supply chain clerk smiled with relief. “Thanks for being as fast as you were.” And she bolted out the door.
At Caitlyn’s side, he noted her deep relaxed breathing contrasted by her ashen-white cheeks and an almost bruised look under her eyes. He still had a bucket of nastiness to dispose of. Something he needed to do now. He hated to leave her alone, but the latrine was next door. He dumped the bucket, rinsed it out, dumped and rinsed it a few more times and then went back.
There was no change in Caitlyn’s condition. She slept deeply. Good. That was the best thing for her. He took her water bottle and raced out to the mess tent for several new ones, and, since he hadn’t had anything to eat, he grabbed a sandwich and some coffee.
Back at her tent, he sat at the end of her bed to keep watch.
His phone went off several minutes later. Corey asked, “Where the hell are you?”
“Caitlyn was injured. I’m at her bedside.” He glanced down to make sure he hadn’t awakened her, but she slept soundly.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I can’t do anything less,” he said simply.
After that came no answer. Then again what could Corey say? He knew Caitlyn wasn’t Ryder’s best friend anymore, yet Ryder could hardly leave her like this.
He was a better person than that. And, although he understood the need to protect his heart, he wasn’t at all sure it was possible. She’d had a place deep inside for such a long time.