Monday's Child (6 page)

Luke grinned.

Had she said that out loud?

Wishing her stomach would stop turning, Sara made the porridge, handed the steaming bowl to Luke, and sat at the table. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. Aren’t you having any?”

“Not yet. It’s too early. I can barely keep coffee down before ten.” She swallowed hard, hating this time of day with a passion. “Excuse me.”

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she bolted for the bathroom.

****

Luke sat and stared at the doorway Sara ran through. What the heck just happened?
Should I follow her?

She’d probably prefer her privacy, stubborn woman. He said grace and then ate as his stomach growled like a hollow log with a bear inside. He couldn’t believe he was this hungry. He didn’t usually eat breakfast. He prayed for her as he ate. That she’d come to accept the situation and see he was here for her good and not for evil.

Sara came back downstairs, as pale as the shirt he had on under the sweater she loaned him. “Are you all right, Sara?”

“Not really, but it’ll pass. It always does.” She started washing the dishes. “Shall I make a shopping list so we can go and get the stuff we need?”

Noticing the change of subject, Luke dropped her illness for now, but he’d keep an eye on her. Something was very wrong here. “Sure, make a shopping list and I’ll see it gets taken care of.”

“I thought I—we could go. It’s Saturday, so there’ll be lots of people around. Mrs. McArthur says there are lots of good shops in town. We could get sheets for your bed as well as other stuff like jumpers and…”

“No.” Hadn’t she been listening to a word he said since he met her? “You aren’t going anywhere. I thought I made that clear. You’re limited to the house and yard, the backyard to be precise. We’ll get the shopping delivered.”

“It’s a garden, not a yard, because it’s got grass in it. A yard is made of concrete. And you’re being unreasonable. Austin couldn’t have found us this fast.”

“You’re the only witness to a homicide. We can’t pin anything on this guy without your testimony. You’re a target, and he won’t give up until he gets to you. It’s either this or a prison cell.”

“Not much difference from what I can see. This is house arrest.”

“However you see it, you’ll have to deal with it if you want to put Austin away like he deserves. We have to stick to the cover story. You’re recovering from a major illness.”

“Well, in case someone asks, what exactly am I recovering from?”

Luke let out a deep sigh. “Pick one.”

“Flu? Cholera? Pneumonia? Scarlet fever?” Sara counted them off on her fingers as she jabbed her hands into the air. “Oh wait, I know. How about the truth? Someone blew my leg to bits and pieces on my honeymoon.”

Luke resisted the urge to snap back. That wouldn’t help at all. “The broken leg on honeymoon story works for me. Will you feel arthritis in this cold?”

“Probably, but if you think this is cold, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait till it snows.”

“Snow?” When would that start? It could put a cramp in his ability to watch for Austin. Plus deal with transport if they needed to move again if the roads closed.

“Yeah, snow. You know, the white stuff that falls from the sky in winter. This far north, the roads could close for weeks, and we could get snowed in. You better stockpile that shopping you want delivered.” She turned away and clutched at the sink.

Luke brought the bowl across to her, setting it on the side. “That was great.” How could he defuse the situation? Could changing the subject work? Would a calm tone of voice stop her sniping at him? “Thank you.”

Sara didn’t answer. Her grip on the sink slackened, and with a small gasp, she fell. Catching her before she hit the ground, Luke laid her gently on the tiled floor, checking for a pulse. “Sara?”

There was no response. Luke reached for the phone. What was the number for the emergency services in this country? From the brief he’d read on the plane there were two, but which was the emergency number and which was the non-emergency? A groan tore from her lungs, and he dropped the phone. “Sara?”

Her eyes flickered open. “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

She tried to sit up, losing what little color she had. How sick was she? What was wrong with her?

“Let me help.” Luke carried her into the lounge.

****

Lying in Luke’s arms, Sara felt safe. Then guilt flooded her for letting a man other than Jamie instill that reaction in her. “I’m not an invalid.” That protest sounded weak even to her.

Luke laid her on the couch and knelt next to her, his scent wafting over her. “I never said you were. Has this happened before?”

“A couple of times. Why?”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

Sara shook her head, and then regretted it as the dizziness increased. “I’ve seen enough of doctors and hospitals to last a lifetime. Besides, I’m not allowed out, remember?”

“I ought to get you checked over. Just to be on the safe side.”

Pushing herself up, Sara shot him a withering look. She knew exactly what was wrong and she didn’t want him finding out. “I’m fine, Leftenant. Stop fussing.”

Luke laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, keeping her still. “You’re seeing the doctor. I can’t have a witness dying on me.”

“No, of course not. It might ruin your career prospects. Not to mention your reputation.” She could hear herself sniping, but couldn’t stop it. Being sick always made her short tempered.

The doorbell rang.

“Stay there,” Luke ordered.

“Do I have a choice?” Sara watched as he left the room and closed her eyes. “Apparently not.” Despite her protests, she felt like death warmed up. Maybe if she didn’t move, the nausea would go.

****

Luke opened the door. Cold air blasted in and made him shiver.

“Hi, Dave, Mrs. McArthur. Come in.” He shut the door behind them.

Carole smiled. “Call me Carole. Hope ye dinna mind us coming this early. Dave said ye might need some shopping done, and I thought I could keep Sara company while he took ye tae the supermarket. Is she up?”

“She’s in the lounge. She’s not so well this morning.”

“Och, that’s nae good. I’ll see if she needs anything.”

“Sure, go on through. Either of you want coffee?”

Dave smiled. “Please.”

“Aye, please.” Carole hung her coat over the banisters and went into the lounge.

Luke caught Dave’s eye and indicated the way to the kitchen.

Dave followed. “What’s wrong with Sara?”

“Wish I knew. I also need your phone number.” Luke put the kettle on, hoping he remembered how Sara had made coffee, and sat at the table.

Dave sat opposite him, shrugging his coat off. “Sure. What are her symptoms?”

“She was sick to her stomach when she woke, and she fainted a few minutes ago. She was only out for a minute or so, if that, but I want to get a doctor to check her over. We’ll need someone we can trust with Sara’s correct medical history.”

“Use ours. Steve Scott’s really good. He’s also the local police surgeon, so he’s got clearance. Shall I give him a ring?”

“Please. Ask him to come here if he does house calls. We need discretion, and I want to keep her inside as much as possible.” He glanced into the hall as footsteps ran to the stairs. “Something isn’t right. It could be stress or the move, but I want to make sure.”

Dave pulled out his phone.

“I’ll go see if she’s all right.” Luke headed up the stairs. He got to the landing as the bathroom door opened.

Sara came onto the landing, weaving on unsteady feet. Her hands flailed, trying to grab the banisters as she fell. Luke ran the last few steps and slid his arms around her. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Her eyes opened. “I don’t need to be in bed.”

“Let the doctor be the judge of that.”

Luke carried her into the bedroom. She closed her eyes and curled into a ball.

Just how sick is she?

Pulling the door to, Luke went back downstairs to the kitchen. “I put her back to bed.”

“Doctor Scott’s on his way.”

“Thanks. I’m afraid the shopping trip is off. I can’t leave Sara.” He had no intention of letting Sara go shopping any time soon, and this would serve as the perfect excuse to make her stay in, at least for the moment.

Dave smiled. “Nae problem. Give me a list. We’ll do it before my shift starts.”

“Thanks.” Luke pulled the notebook across and wrote a list. He handed it to Dave.

Carole read it over his shoulder. “Bedding?”

“Sara’s aunt wants to visit. We need somewhere for her to sleep. And a quilt.” He pulled out his wallet and gave Dave all the cash he had. He’d have to withdraw more funds from his work account, but this would do for now. “Let me know if you need more.”

Dave put the money in his wallet, with the list. “Will do, but we can lend ye a couple o’quilts. Come on then, love. Let’s make a move. We’ll bring the shopping in on our way home. Och, Luke, before I forget, the computer is coming sometime this morning. The guy from the shop said he’d set it up unless ye’d rather do it yerself.”

“Thanks, Dave. I’ll talk to him when he gets here.”

Carole didn’t move. “Ye know. Dave tells me ye’ve been friends for years, but he never mentioned ye before yesterday. I canna imagine why. Yer such a nice guy. Dave should have more friends like ye and keep in touch better. It must be a guy thing. I canna say I have any friends I dinna chat with almost daily, even friends from years ago.”

Dave tugged at his wife’s arm. “I explained all that, love, but yer right. We all know how chatty ye women are, and yer already starting by digging information out of poor Luke here. I told ye, Luke and I met on an international case a few years back and have kept in touch via email off and on through the years. Never mentioned him because I dinna ever think he’d be able tae visit, him being in America and all. Now, we need tae go.”

Luke saw them out and went back upstairs, glad he’d dodged that bullet.
Lord, give me the help I need to keep Sara safe and to ward off as many questions as possible.

6

Sara fixed her gaze on the view of the sea, imagining herself walking on the beach. She was so lost in her thoughts, the knock on the door made her jump. “Come in.”

Luke crossed the room. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve felt better, but I’m blaming the stress. So what’s happening?”

“The doc’s on his way. He’s the police surgeon, so we don’t have to lie to him. Dave’s going to get the shopping done. Carole wanted to know why we need more bedding. I told her that your aunt wanted to come visit. She didn’t ask any questions, but she might wonder why your aunt, and not your parents.”

Sara moved as Luke sat next to her and responded to the hint in his voice. He probably needed to know her background a bit more, since they were supposedly married and all. “My parents are dead. They died in a train crash when I was six.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aunt Mary raised me. She’s all the family I have, and I can’t even contact her. Have you any idea how alone that makes me feel?”

“Actually, I do.” Luke growled when the doorbell rang and then grinned. “I’ll be back.”

Sara couldn’t bring herself to smile. Her gaze followed him across the room before she turned her attention back to the view from the window.

Within seconds, voices sounded in the hall and then footsteps climbed the stairs. Sara turned over as the door opened. The two men stood there, one a stranger, resembling the picture of Doctor Foster in the nursery rhyme book she’d had as a child. Tall, with fair hair and steel gray eyes under his wire rimmed glasses, he wore a thick gray coat over a black suit and tie, clasping a black bag in his left hand. All he lacked was the black top hat.

“Sara, this is Doctor Scott.” Luke turned to Scott. “Sara’s medical records will take a little while to get here, but headquarters can fax them to you if you go through Dave at the station.”

Scott put the bag down and took off his coat and gloves, revealing a plain wedding band. “Nae problem. Can ye give me a brief history?”

“I was shot in June. I spent three weeks in hospital having my leg put back together again, just like Humpty Dumpty.”

“I don’t think the prior injuries tae yer leg would cause the symptoms ye describe. Can ye be more specific about how ye feel?”

“The leftenant’s making a fuss over nothing.”

Luke cleared his throat. “It’s Luke, not lieutenant.”

“I said
leftenant
, and besides you were the one that said we don’t have to lie as Doctor Scott is the police surgeon and therefore knows the truth.” She returned her gaze to the doctor. “It’ll pass, Doctor. It always does.”

Scott’s tone became insistent. “What will pass?”

Sara sighed. How did she do this without Luke finding out her secret? “I feel sick until lunchtime. I can’t drink tea, and I get a lot of heartburn and leg cramps.” She took a deep breath. “I’m tired, but I’ve not been sleeping well because of the nightmares. It’s silly to waste your time like this. The leftenant shouldn’t have rung you.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “You were incredibly sick, more than once. And you fainted. You were out for a minute or so, earlier. That’s not good in my book.”

Scott’s thoughtful expression deepened. “Did ye hit your head when ye fell?”

“No.” Sara glared at Luke, glanced at the door, then back at Luke. With any luck, he’d get the hint and leave.

Luke shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Once the door was shut, Sara took a deep breath. Maybe she should be honest with the doctor—for the sake of the baby. “Before you start, there’s something you should know. I’m pregnant.”

“Aye, I figured as much.” His Scottish lilt didn’t mask his disapproval. “Also figure ye dinna think it’s any o’the witness protection program’s business, but I’m sure ye’ll come tae the conclusion yer wrong about that soon enough.”

“I know I have to tell them, but can’t I have any privacy left?” Sara stopped his response. “No, don’t answer that. I can’t. My life is not my own.”