MILITARY ROMANCE: The War Within Himself (Alpha Bad Boy Marine Army Seal) (Contemporary Military Suspense & Thriller Romance) (178 page)

Chapter 11

“What was that?” Elise asked.

“I protected you from getting pregnant,” he replied.

“Oh. Thank you. Now what do we do?”

Moya laughed as he pulled up his trousers that he had pushed to his knees at some point. Then he pulled her skirts down to cover her as he said, “
Ve
rest and
enyoy
de
afternoon.”

Elise buttoned her camisole and her dress bodice. “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know.
Ve
are having a secret courtship.
Ve
are
enyoying
each other.”

Unsure she wanted an answer but knowing she must ask, she questioned him nervously. “Is what you said true?”

“
Vat
did I say?”

“That you think you’re falling in love with me. Is it true?”

He hesitated, leaving Elise to wonder if she had just made a mistake by asking. When he finally answered, though, it wasn’t what she had been expecting.

“No, Elise, it isn’t true.
De
trut
is
dat
I do love you. I fell in love
vit
you almost
de
moment I met you—maybe before. Lars told me a lot about you. He’s so proud of you. I almost feel bad about
vat
we did a few minutes ago.”

“Almost.”

“I
vill
never be sorry for
vat
ve
did.”

“What if I can’t tell you that I love you in return?”

He shrugged. “You do. You
yust
don’t know
vat
love is yet.”

“You’re right. I don’t know. As it stands now, I’m not sure I ever will.”

***

Four days later, Karin ran into the house shouting Elise’s name.

Elise came out of her room, asking, “What is it?”

“Mr. Coleman needs you up at the logging site.”

Stunned, Elise stared at Karin. Why would Karin’s boss and the owner of the logging company want her up at the site? He’d specifically told her that she would never be allowed to go there.

“I don’t understand, Karin. Why would he want me up there?”

“There’s been an accident, and he needs you to translate. The man only speaks Swedish.”

“I know Lars doesn’t speak Swedish, so it can’t be him, thank goodness. And Moya speaks both, so he wouldn’t need a translator. On top of that, Moya is working at the site today, so he could translate for Mr. Coleman.”

“No, he can’t. He’s the one who got hurt.”

Elise stared at her in shock. “
What
? Moya was injured in a logging accident? Why didn’t you say so? Do you know where they are?”

“No, but the man in the wagon outside does. He’s going to take you up there.”

Without saying thank you, Elise raced outside to the wagon a climbed onto the seat beside one of her students.

“Let’s go,” she told him in Swedish.

Slapping the reins over the horse’s back, he urged the animal to go. When the horse moved at a slow pace, he hit the quarter horse harder, and the gelding picked up his pace to a canter.

Satisfied they were moving fast enough, Magnus greeted Elise in Swedish. “
God eftermiddag
.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Magnus,” she replied in English. “Maybe it would be a good time to practice.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I
vill
try.”

“Good. Do you know how badly Moya is hurt?”

“Bad.
De
läkare
said he is having trouble
vit
his
vords
.”

“He can’t speak?”

“Yes. He does not … um …
kom ihåg
?”

“Remember?” Elise’s heart sank. What if he didn’t remember her? Would she lose the only man who had told her that he loved her? Afraid of the answer, she asked, “
What
doesn’t he remember?”

“
Engelska
,” Magnus replied. “English.”

“Was he hit on the head?”

“
Ja
, the head. He has blood.”

“Does the doctor need me to translate?” She thought a moment and remembered that she hadn’t taught her class the words doctor or translate yet. “Does the
läkare
need me to
översätta
?”

“
Ja
. He must ask Moya
tings
.”

“To assess his condition, I imagine.”

“
Vat
?”

“Never mind. How long will it take to get there?”

“Soon.”

Elise fell silent. Her concern about Moya’s condition increasing with each step the horse took. If he had been hit on the head, he could have a very serious injury. He could die from it, and Elise had just realized that she could be falling in love with him—if she had even an inkling of what love felt like.

Oh, how she longed to have had a mother to guide her through adolescence. So much would be clear now if she had. But she couldn’t change the past, either. She couldn’t bring her mother back to help her now.

What was it that her mother had said when she gave her that locket just before she died?
Håll detta och jag kommer alltid vara med dig.
Hold this, and I will always be with you. What had she done with that locket, anyway? If she ever in her life needed it, she needed it now.

A clamoring in the near distance alerted Elise to their imminent arrival. Thank goodness, they were almost there. She steeled herself for what she was about to see—Moya bleeding from the head wound he had received.

How had this happened, anyway? Moya had told her that he was always careful and that she had no cause to worry about him on the sites. Now he had a serious injury that had at least robbed him of some of his memories. Had it robbed him of their picnic? Her heart ached at the thought that it had. Their tryst had meant the world to her, and if he didn’t remember it, she would be devastated.

As they approached the site of Moya’s accident, Elise could see a crowd of lumberjacks gathered around. Some other lumberjacks worked on a fallen redwood tree near the doctor and a man lying on the ground before him. That had to be Moya. The lumberjacks cut away at the branches around Moya. The lumberjacks not hewing the thick limbs milled around, just watching the doctor and the man lying before him.

The moment Magnus brought the horse to a halt, Elise scrambled from the wagon. Lars met her and helped her down.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Not good, I’m afraid,” Lars replied. “He has a massive injury on the back of his head. He’s only speaking in Swedish, too. He doesn’t seem to understand English anymore. That’s why we need you. Doc Frey doesn’t understand Swedish.”

“Okay,” she said, struggling to maintain her composure so Lars wouldn’t realize that she was so attached to Moya. Now wasn’t the time for his jealousy. “Take me to them.”

Upon reaching the doctor and patient, Elise knelt down beside Moya, who lay on the ground. She questioned him quietly in Swedish. “How are you feeling?”

He replied in a weak voice, and she turned to the Dr. Frey. “He says that he has a terrible headache, and he wonders what happened.”

“Nobody seems to know, Miss Anderson,” Dr. Frey said. “Apparently, no one was around when he was injured, and nobody knows how long he was unconscious.”

Elise relayed the information to Moya, who questioned her when she stopped explaining. She turned to the doctor. “Moya wants to know who found him if nobody was around when it happened.”

“I did,” Lars said.

Shocked, Elise turned toward him. “
You
found him? How did you know where to look?”

“He was supposed to be back by eleven, but he didn’t show up. I went looking in the direction he had gone until I came across him here, out cold.”

“Lars found you,” she told Moya in Swedish. “He said you were unconscious when he got here.”

Moya reached up and grasped her hand. “
Jag älskar dig
.”

Elise nearly shouted in joy. He remembered her, and he loved her. That was all she cared about right now. That, and that he was being cared for by a real physician, of course.

Chapter  12

“What did he say?” Dr. Frey asked.

“It wasn’t important.”

She ran her hand over his blond curls but jerked it back when she felt blood. Staring down at his head, she saw that blood soaked into the ground him.

“I haven’t moved him yet to examine his wound,” Dr. Frey said, “because he wouldn’t let me touch him. Now that you’re here, you can explain that I only want to look at his injury. I need to know how bad it is.”

Elise explained to Moya then nodded at the doctor to indicate that Moya would let him work now. When Dr. Frey moved Moya’s head, Moya groaned but said nothing. Wiping the blood off her hand onto her skirt, she watched as the doctor examined the long gash from the crown of his head to just above his right ear. No wonder there was so much blood! What could have caused an injury like that?

“Hand me the bandages in my bag, Miss Anderson.”

Looking into his bag, she pulled out the white linens and handed them to Dr. Frey, who proceeded to fold two long pieces. With those covering Moya’s wound, he had her hold them in place and wrapped a long, narrow piece of white cloth around Moya’s head several times before securely tying it at Moya’s left temple.

The doctor pointed at three random men, saying, “You. You. And you. We’re going to lift him gently and put him on the buckboard. I need to get him to my office.”

Elise didn’t recognize any of the men from her class, so she translated just in case they didn’t understand. The men came over, and Dr. Frey directed them into position. While Dr. Frey slid his arms under Moya’s head and shoulders, one man put his arms under Moya’s shoulders and waist. Across from him, another man put his arms under Moya’s waist and just under his buttocks. The last man took Moya’s legs.

“Tell them that we’ll all lift him on the count of three, Miss Anderson.”

Relaying the message, Elise backed out of the way while Dr. Frey counted. When he reached three, all the men stood and carefully walked to the physician’s buckboard. Once they were in position, Dr.  Frey directed Elise to hold Moya’s head steady. As she did, the doctor got onto the bed of the buckboard and took Moya’s head and shoulders. He pulled Moya onto the wagon while each man released Moya until he was fully on the bed of the vehicle. Dr. Frey climbed over the seat and untied the reins from where he’d secured them.

“I need the men to come with me, Miss Anderson. You, too, in case I need you to translate again.”

Elise told the men what Dr. Frey said and began to climb into the back to sit by Moya. Strong hands around her waist startled her as they lifted her into the wagon. She turned to see Lars standing there.

“I’ll come by your house tonight to see what Doc Frey says about Moya’s condition,” Lars announced.

Unable to respond, Elise just nodded and moved to the front of the wagon where Moya’s head lay. Tucking her legs and dress under her, she sat beside him. The other three men jumped into the buckboard, and the doctor snapped the reins across the horse’s back. The wagon started at a quick but safe speed.

“Don’t let him bump his head too much,” Dr. Frey said.

“Should I sit on my knees and hold his head in my lap?” she asked.

“That’s the perfect solution. We can’t have him bouncing around against the wood. He probably has a fractured skull and a concussion. He needs to stay as still as possible.”

Elise maneuvered herself into position and lifted Moya’s head just enough to slide under it and cradle his head between her thighs. When she took her hand out from under it, she discovered that there was even more blood on her. Obviously, the covering of the wound wasn’t working very well because blood was seeping from the bandages.

***

Once the men got Moya into the doctor’s office, they left Dr. Frey and Elise alone and went back to work.

“How serious is this, Dr. Frey?” Elise asked when they were alone and the physician was working on Moya.

“It’s very serious, Miss Anderson.”

“Please. Call me Elise. Will he die?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“He passed out on the way here,” Elise said in concern. “Surely that can’t be good.”

“It’s not.”

Shaking his head and pursing his lips, Dr. Frey examined the wound under his lantern light. Elise didn’t like the way he was acting and looked over to see how bad it was. To her surprise, the wound was so deep it was almost as though she could see into Moya’s head. His golden curls were even getting into it.

“I need to shave off some of his hair so I can get a better look, Elise. Would you go into my bedroom and get the razor off my washstand?”

He pointed toward a door leading out of his office, so she went to it and opened it. Glancing around the sparsely decorated room, she strode over to the washstand and grabbed the razor. In case he wanted them, she also picked up the shaving brush and soap. Then she returned to the office.

Taking the items from her, Dr. Frey asked, “Have you ever acted as a nurse?”

“Only when my parents were sick. Never in an emergency.”

“Then this will be your first time. You keep pressure on this towel on his wound. I’m going to wash my hands. When I get done, I want you to do the same thing. Then I’m going to sew up his cut. I want you to make sure any hair that gets in the way is moved. I don’t want it in his wound. If you get nauseous, look away, and I’ll tell you when I need you to move his hair.”

Although anxious about how she was performing, Elise did exactly as the doctor told her. She didn’t feel the slightest bit queasy, so she watched what he was doing and was able to move any stray strands of Moya’s hair out of the way. When he was finished, a hairless swath about two inches wide bordered the stitched wound.

“You did a wonderful job, Elise,” Dr. Frey praised as he more closely examined the wound now that it wasn’t bleeding. “You didn’t even seem as though watching me bothered you.”

“That’s because it didn’t,” she replied with a smile. “I was fascinated with what you were doing and how well you did it.”

“I was just glad he was unconscious. I didn’t relish using alcohol to cleanse that wound. If he had been awake, that would have been very painful.”

“I think he felt it, though,” she said, her smile slipping from her lips. “I heard him moaning.”

“If that bothers you, you’ll be glad to know that he most likely won’t remember anything about today. And, quite frankly, I’m not sure
what
he’ll remember if he wakes up.”

“If?” she repeated in shock.

“I’m sorry, but he could have bleeding in his brain. I’ve always wished that there was a way to see into a human body without opening it up, but there’s not. Right now, we can’t fix something like that. We can only pray and watch him.” He paused and gazed over Moya at her. “Would you be willing to sit with him tonight? You could take the first shift, and I’ll take over about two a.m.”

“Of course, I would be willing,” she said without hesitation.

“I thought so. I’m an old man now,” he said with a laugh, “and my wife has been gone for years. But I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be in love. You, Elise, are definitely a woman in love.”

Her face heated in embarrassment. If he could tell, who else could?