Christmas Eve (21 page)

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Authors: Flame Arden

BOOK: Christmas Eve
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"How are you doing, Nick?" She gave him a quick hug.

"I've seen better days, but you were great."

Dressing him? Is that what he's talking about? Or is he referring to something else?

Feeling a blush beginning, Eve focused her thoughts on the job at hand.

"Think you can make it to my car?"

"Sure."

She wasn't all that certain, but plodded on through the snow.

Thank goodness there hadn't been any more. Their mad dash down the mountain would be difficult enough without fresh snow to contend with.

When they reached the drive, she guided Nick around to the passenger side and propped him against the car while she fumbled with the stiff lock.

Open, please
.

It did. Once she had him seated inside and buckled up, Nick let out a lengthy sigh. "Always wanted to ride in one of these. Just wish I felt up to the ride."

Nick's voice is frighteningly weak
.

She closed the passenger door, then hurried around to the driver's side and slid in. "Sit back, Nick," she said, her cold fingers fumbling with the safety belt. "That's right. Now, lean your head against the window. The cool glass might help."

When the engine purred to life, a little of Eve's concern eased.

She switched on the headlights and backed out. Carefully. She had no intention of landing in another ditch.

Once all four tires were out on the street and safely facing down hill, she breathed a little prayer of thanks, then added,
May the rest of the trip go as well
.

She remembered seeing a snow plow pass by earlier but knew a thin layer of ice would still cover parts of the road. Black ice, almost impossible to detect, would likely cause the car to skid.
Another reason to drive with care
.

She let the car creep forward until she had the feel of the road, then shifted into low for more control and slowly started down the hill. The road, like the night, loomed ahead, seemingly endless.

No headlights in sight. That helped. She wouldn't have to worry about skidding into another car. Or about some vehicle skidding into hers, for that matter. Still, it would be comforting to see someone,
anyone
, moving about, should she need help.

Nick groaned and his head lolled back.

Eve speeded up. "Nick... Are you all right?"

"I guess," he whispered, then bent double.

Stomach spasms? Nausea was not a good sign.

Hurry
.

She negotiated a turn. Passed a closed up cabin. Saw a furry animal dart across the road.

Hurry
.

They were nearing the bottom of the mountain and she pressed down on the gas. Two minutes more and she whizzed past a lighted strip mall and a still-open bar.

Her luck held. Not one light changed as she approached, allowing her to speed through intersections under a green light. Unlike most late-night drives in Las Vegas, the streets were empty in both directions.

Until she neared Las Vegas Boulevard and saw it backed up with the usual congestion. Boulder Highway, a less traveled street, would be the best route.

"Nick? Talk to me."

"Can't... any longer... You're out of my... life."

On the verge of hysteria, Eve started to laugh, then caught herself. Nick was too sick to be making jokes. Delirious, and half out of his head with pain from the sound of things. His slurred speech made him sound drunk.

Hurry
.

Eve drove past the brightly lit hospital entrance. Up to the emergency room door, where she parked, then raced around to the passenger side and flung open the door.

Nick looked her squarely in the eyes and muttered, "Keep the money. And tell Priscilla... you're the best damn lay she ever sent."

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Totally confused by his mumbled words, Eve blinked at Nick slumped in the passenger seat of her car.

Don't pay any attention to him. He doesn't know what he's saying. Concentrate on getting help for him instead
.

Nick urgently needed medical care. She grabbed one of the wheelchairs parked outside the ER door and rolled the chair to his side of the car.

She released his seat belt and stepped back out of the way.

"Nick? Can you hear me?"

He nodded, looking dazed.

"Good. I want you to turn so you're facing me... That's right. Put your feet down on the pavement... Okay? Are you dizzy?"

He mumbled something unintelligible, his chin resting on his chest. Eve gave his knee an encouraging pat. "Now, Nick. I'll help you. See if you can stand."

He put his right foot down on the pavement. Swaying, he made a grab for her and she shoved him back down on the seat. Visions of the two of them flat in the parking lot with Nick on top and her unable to get out from under him and go for help caused her to jump back as, exhausted, Nick slumped on the seat.

Frightened, Eve slung her purse over her shoulder and ran inside. A bell dinged as the door swung shut behind her. The nurse seated at a desk behind a glass partition looked up and smiled.

"I need some help getting an injured man out of the car," Eve said.

"I'll ring for an orderly. Wait right here."

"No! It's not safe to leave him alone," Eve said, halfway out the door before she finished speaking.

Nick had his head down between his knees and supported by his hands. Every struggling breath he took made her heart ache.

Please, don't let him die
.

The hospital door swung open, flooding the two of them with more light and accentuating the deathly paleness of Nick's skin. Just looking at him made Eve feel faint. She sucked in a steadying breath. "Over here," she called to the uniformed man coming out. "Hurry, please."

The man's curious gaze first took in the winged-up door of her car, then fell on Nick.

One look and the stout orderly ducked under the door and shoved the wheel chair even closer to the car.

"Don't try to help," he ordered Nick and grabbed him under the arms. In one smooth show of strength, he stood Nick on his feet, then stuffed him into the chair. "There."

Eve closed and locked the car, then ran up the wheelchair ramp ahead of the orderly pushing Nick. The automatic doors slid open, admitting them.

"Exam room two," the nurse with whom Eve had spoken earlier said, then took hold of Eve's hand, preventing her from going with Nick. "I need you to give me some information about the patient. Any idea what's wrong with him?"

"I think he fell in the bathroom and hit his head on the sink." Eve's voice wavered. "Will he be all right?"

"I'll let you know as soon as the doctor finishes examining him. What is the patient's name?"

"Nick. Nick St. Clair."

"Since you're his wife you'll be allowed to see him as soon as you fill out this form."

"I'm not his wife, but I need to be with Nick."

"
After
you take a seat in the waiting room and fill out this form we'll talk about that."

Nodding, Eve accepted the clipboard and found a chair in the crowded room.

Patient's name and address
?

Perched on the hard edge of a cold plastic chair reviewing the questions printed on the form, Eve realized Nick's name was the only blank she knew how to fill in. She'd spent the better part of a week as his guest, yet didn't even know his address.

She felt in her purse for his wallet. Her fingers identified the tight roll of money instead. She carefully pulled out the wad.

Ten crisp thousand dollar bills unrolled in her hand.

"
Keep... You earned it
," Nick had said, along with some other muttered comments she refused to think about just now.

Deal with Nick's money later. Fill out this form quickly so you can go see how he is
.

Better to concentrate on Nick's survival. Anything else could wait.

She rolled the bills back up, then slipped the cash in the inside pocket of her purse and zipped the compartment closed.

Later, she thought, giving her purse a thoughtful pat.

Digging deeper, she located Nick's wallet. As she pulled it out, her hands shook.

Invading Nick's privacy felt unnatural. Obscene.

He'd given her his wallet for this purpose, she silently argued, but still felt ill-at-ease opening it. Nick's startling blue eyes, captured on his driver's license, smiled back at her, bringing the sting of tears to her eyes and for a moment making it impossible for her to read.

She dried her eyes, then copied his address on the form.

Hmm. Not the address on Mt. Charleston where she'd stayed. An address in town. Some place near the Strip? Maybe one of those new condo complexes.

She entered Nick's age, height and weight in the appropriate blanks.

Insurance
?

His enrollment card.

From another card found in his wallet, she transferred the necessary information about Nick's health care plan to the form.

The nurse will need to make a copy of this. Nick's driver's license, too
.

Rather than return those to his wallet, Eve slipped his important documents in her pocket.

Medical history?

How was she to know?

A lot of help you are, leaving that entire section blank
.

At least she could answer the questions pertaining to his current illness, and hurriedly wrote, "He fell in the bathroom, hit his head on the sink, and lost consciousness for a short while. When he came to, he complained about seeing double."

Not in proper medical terminology, but the closest she could come. Surely from what she had written the ER staff could make Nick well.

She finished writing and leaned back, her job done, but her thoughts a confused jumble.

She'd safely delivered Nick to the hospital and answered what pertinent questions she could. Now, all there was to do was wait, the hardest part of all.

"I'll take that if you've finished, Mrs. St. Clair," another employee behind glass offered.

Startled out of her reverie, Eve shook her head. "No. Yes! I mean, I have finished, but I'm not Mrs. St. Clair."

"Oh. And you are—"

"A.. .friend."

"Were you with Mr. St. Clair at the time of the accident?"

"Y-yes, but asleep in another room."

"Is there a member of the family we should notify?"

Eve bristled. "I have no idea." She walked away, feeling like a fool.

She
shouldn't
have reacted so childishly. Thanks to the holidays, the ER was understaffed, the nurses most likely overworked.

Eve sank onto an uncomfortable orange chair, determined to smile at the nurse the next time their glances met.

What time was it when Nick's fall woke her? Hmm. Around 3:00? It was almost 4:30 now. Why hadn't someone sent her word about Nick?

At 5:00 a.m. she stopped pacing the length of a wide, quiet hall. Surely by now the doctors could tell her something. She strode to the desk. The nurse shook her head and shrugged.

Eve wheeled around. Picked up a magazine. Plopped in a chair and flipped a few pages.

How could she get interested in redoing a powder room when Nick's life might hang by a thread?

She glanced up. Restrooms?

There, across the hall.

Eve opened the door and stepped inside. A splash of cold water on each cheek helped open her sleepy eyes.

She dried her hands on a course paper towel and examined her face in the mirror. Dark circles framed red-rimmed, weary eyes. She hadn't applied makeup for days and looked like a...

Nick's words suddenly came back to her. "
Tell Priscilla I said
..."

No, don't worry your mind over Nick's strange ramblings now
.

Not yet. I don't dare. Not while I still have to look strangers in the face
.

Outside in the hall, she bent over the water cooler and took a refreshing sip. The icy liquid strangled her. She coughed, then paced the length of the hall and back again, tears stinging her eyes.

As she entered the waiting room the woman behind the desk beckoned to her.

"Yes?"

"You can have these back." She slid Nick's I.D. and insurance card across the cluttered surface to Eve. "The doctor is admitting Mr. St. Clair. In about a half hour I'll know his room number. He'll be in our medical wing on the third floor, but you won't be allowed to see him until visiting hours, this afternoon."

"Is he all right?"

"The doctor's not sure. Your friend is still disoriented, among other things. That's why he's admitting him. Patients with nausea caused by a severe head injury require close observation for several days."

That's why I brought him here
! Eve wanted to shout.

"Thanks."

She resumed her pacing.

Did that nurse mean Nick was out of danger? Might he still die?

Eve shoved the unacceptable thought to the back of her mind and tried to think about tomorrow — today? What day is it? — instead.

Thursday? Yes, Thursday. Last night she'd told Nick she had to leave this morning. She'd promised to cover the office today. To go back down the mountain and resume her normal routine.

Not that there would be much in the office to do. Few clients asked to see property between Christmas and New Year's, but a number of calls usually came in from clients wanting to make appointments for early in the new year.

Eve strode back to the desk, "Excuse me."

"I'm sorry. There's still no word."

"No. This isn't about Nick. Would you mind telling me what day this is?"

The woman glanced at the calendar on her desk, then back at Eve with an understanding smile. "It's easy to lose track of time when someone you care about gets hurt. Today's the twenty-ninth of December. The old year's nearly done."

"Thanks." Moving away from the desk, Eve's legs suddenly gave out and she collapsed in the nearest chair.

She'd learned it was wise to have someone in the office to take calls right up until early afternoon of New Year's Eve when the phones stopped ringing for a day or two. Her voice mail would intercept any calls that came in after that time, and her boring, holiday weekend would begin.

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