Ralph Compton Death Along the Cimarron (35 page)

“Yes, Tuck, it's me,” said Danielle, moving from the chair over onto the edge of the small bed. The doctor's eyes widened in astonishment. Danielle clasped Tuck's hand.

“Am I—am I going to be all right?” Tuck asked, his voice weak and groggy from medication.

“Yes, Tuck, you're going to be all right,” Danielle said, feeling the tears spill down her cheeks. “You're going to be fine! Just fine! I'm going to take really good care of you from now on.”

Even in his semiconscious state, Tuck seemed surprised at his friend's words and manner. “Danny?” he asked. “Are you ... crying?”

“Yes, Tuck,” Danielle said, offering a tight smile through her tears. “I am crying. So what?”

Tuck closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth slowly. “My, my. I never thought I'd see you crying, Danny. This certainly has been a day full of surprises....”

“Surprises?” Danielle sniffled and wiped her eyes. She could see that he had drifted back off to sleep, yet she continued speaking to him all the same. With her free hand, she reached up, pulled off her hat, and sailed it across the room. She shook out her long hair, hearing the doctor gasp then sigh in relief behind her. “Just you wait, Tuck Carlyle,” she said. “You haven't seen
surprises
yet.”