The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) (11 page)

Within minutes a nurse was at Braham’s bedside injecting medicine into the tube connected to his arm. Sleep came quickly, and with it, dreams of a lass with golden hair and eyes bluer than the waters of Loch Lomond.

11

Winchester Medical Center, Winchester, Virginia, Present Day

R
aised voices woke
Braham from a restful sleep, but he remained still, eyes closed. He listened to the discussion taking place in his hospital room.

“I told her I didn’t like the idea at all.”

From the tone of Doctor Thomas’ voice, he’s not happy.

“She’s being overly protective. You know how she can be.”

Jack defending his sister.

“I’d have released him to go home in two days. I don’t see the point in transferring him to another hospital.”

“You’ll have to have that argument with Charlotte,” Jack said.

“I will, but it won’t do any good.” Doctor Thomas huffed. “I’ll sign the release order.”

“You two are made for each other. I don’t know why you never hooked up.”

Doctor Thomas gave a derisive laugh. “Because I’m not a suitable mate. I don’t meet all ten requirements on her must-have list.”

“I’d say you meet the most important one. You’re as committed to the practice of medicine as she is.”

“Are you kidding? It isn’t even on the list.”

Jack laughed. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Doc.”

“Take her patient to Richmond, and tell her to forget the rib eye and wine. All bets are off.”

Leather shoes squeaked across the floor and the door closed.

“You can open your eyes now,” Jack said. “I know you’re awake.”

Braham pushed the button on the little white box and raised the head of his bed, grinning. “You fight your sister’s battles well.”

“I’ve been doing it since she could walk. I’m not likely to quit.”

“You’re moving me to Richmond? Are you sure it’s safe?”

Jack chuckled almost soundlessly, shaking his head. “You’d be safer with the hangman. You don’t know my sister.”

Braham put his hand to his throat and swallowed hard. He didn’t find Jack’s comment the least bit humorous.

Jack pulled the thin black device from his pocket again, and Braham pointed his finger at it. “I assume the thing in your hand is a communication device. What’s it called?”

“Smartphone,” Jack said as he punched at it, and raised it to his ear. “Ken’s going to sign the release order, but he’s not happy.” Jack also poked at the device he called an iPad with his finger while he talked to his sister about logistics. “Sure, I’ll put him on.”

He handed the phone to Braham. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Hello,” Braham said, mimicking Jack’s tone. Braham didn’t understand how Charlotte could hear his voice through the device, especially speaking normally. He intuitively wanted to raise his voice, but Jack didn’t. So Braham didn’t.

“I’ve arranged for an ambulance to pick you up and bring you here. You’ll stay in my hospital for a couple of days. Do you have any questions?”

“Only one. When can I go home?”

“Soon. I’ll see you tonight.”

There was no softness in her voice. Only a rush to finish the conversation. He handed the phone back to Jack. “She must be busy.” Braham shifted his weight in the bed, pretending her hurried tone didn’t matter, but it did. He wanted the intimacy they had shared when she ran her fingers through his hair.

“She’s always busy, but sometimes I think she’s busier than she needs to be.”

Braham scratched his whiskers. If he continued to look the part of a rogue, he’d never get any of her time and attention. Jack hadn’t shaved, though. Maybe men in the twenty-first century didn’t scrape their faces every day.

“I need a shave. Do I have time before we leave? I also need pants and boots.”

“Your face it too cut up to shave, and you’ll go in an ambulance in what you’re wearing now. Tomorrow or the next day I’ll have my barber come in and give you a shave and trim.”

An hour later, rattling wheels approached their door.

“Looks like your ride’s here.”

Two men rolled a gurney into the room. “Mr. McCabe, we have an order to transport you to Richmond.”

Braham didn’t look forward to the future’s mode of travel. He’d seen a picture of Kit with a conveyance she’d called a car. He didn’t understand how it moved without horses, but he’d soon find out.

The men rolled the gurney next to the bed and lowered the rails. “We don’t want you to do anything. We’re going to lift and move you.” They rolled him and slid something beneath him. “On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” As his body jerked sideways, Braham groaned. “Sorry, sir.” They settled him onto the gurney, tucked in the sheet, and strapped him in.

Jack picked up his leather satchel, slung the strap over his shoulder, and walked over to the gurney. “You’re in good hands. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in Richmond.”

When Jack left, Braham shivered. He knew no one other than Jack and Charlotte, and Doctor Thomas, and this strange world stymied him. In a short time he had become dependent on Jack to shepherd him through the strange customs. Braham’s weakness and fear shamed him. What would he say to Kit when he saw her again? Admit her world frightened him? No, he would tell her he acclimated quickly. With that, he relaxed, slowed his breathing, and let his shoulders go slack.

The men rolled him head first into what looked like a miniature hospital room. One of the men climbed in beside him and locked the rolling bed into place. He attached the clear bag to a hook hanging from the ceiling. The walls were lined with cubbyholes and equipment.

“Are you a paramedic?” Braham asked.

“Pretty close. An EMT. Been doing this work for ten years now.” How many paramedics could there be? Maybe he knew Kit. Again, Braham bit his tongue. He mustn’t mention her name to anyone. “How long will the trip take? All day?”

“We’re only going to Richmond. About two hours. You relax, lie back, and enjoy the ride.”

The vehicle’s rolling, swaying motion made him queasy, and he gagged. The EMT cranked up the head of the gurney. “Ask the driver to slow down.” Braham said.

The EMT chuckled. “I doubt he’s going more than five miles an hour.” He put a cold compress on Braham’s forehead. “Riding backwards often makes people sick. This should help.”

Braham didn’t think so. Jerky stops and starts kept his belly churning. All he could see through the back window was scenery. After a while he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the conveyance was backing up to a building.

“When are we leaving?” Braham asked.

“We’re here,” the EMT said. “You slept through the entire trip.”

The two EMTs rolled him out of the ambulance and into the hospital. As the gurney rolled down halls and around corners, Braham’s view of the ceiling didn’t change much. The confined space in the elevator made him break out in a sweat. When the door opened, and he was rolled out, he let out a long-held breath. He never realized how small, enclosed spaces terrified him, or maybe it was small, enclosed spaces
in motion
which terrified him.

He entered a room much like the one in Winchester, except he couldn’t see any trees from the window. He groaned as the jolt of transferring into the new bed sent flashes of fire through his insides. The EMTs straightened him up, then covered him with the blanket folded up at the end of the bed.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. McCabe. Get well soon.”

The two men left the room just as Charlotte entered, wearing a white coat with her name embroidered in blue above the breast pocket. On the other side of the coat, were the words
UVA Health Systems
, also embroidered in blue. Her hair was pulled back into a tail at the nape of her neck, but a riot of curls fell lose around her face, a lovely face which appeared tired and drawn.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, reading a stack of papers the EMTs had given her. “This report said you were queasy. Are you still?”

He shook his head. The only thing wrong at the moment was he had to piss. He would have used the urinal, as Jack called it, which he refused to do in Charlotte’s presence. Jack had assured him it was acceptable in medical situations, but it would never be acceptable to him. He squirmed.

Charlotte looked up from her notes, pursing her lips into a tiny smile. “The bathroom is behind me. Have you been out of bed since surgery?”

He shook his head again.

She put the papers down, lowered his bed, and helped him sit up. “You’ll be wobbly. Put your arm around me.”

He was almost twice her size. If he lost his balance, they would both end up on the floor. When his hand slid across her upper back and around her shoulder, her muscles flexed beneath his fingers. He cocked his brow in surprise. Although small, she might be able to support him after all. How could a woman who appeared so delicate have such strength? Her hands were not callused from heavy work, though. Where did her muscles come from? Kit was muscular, too. It must be the way women were made in this century.

“Are you ready?” she asked, gazing up at him. “Go slow, now. It’s going to hurt a bit when you stand.”

If he hadn’t had to piss, he would have been happy to sit on the edge of the bed, with her arm wrapped around him and his arm around her, while he sniffed the pleasing apple scent in her hair and enjoyed the warmth of her body pressed alongside his.

How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? Not long. So needing a woman wasn’t the problem, it was because the woman in his arms was highly desirable. In fact, her presence was having an effect on him which would soon become obvious to anyone who noticed the tent in the front of his long shirt.

When he stood, he gasped. “
Damn.
” His rising tent collapsed.

“You had a serious injury. It’s going to hurt for a while.”

He took a step, then stopped. Sweat beaded across his forehead.

“Let’s take another step,” she said.

He gritted his teeth.

Charlotte pulled the pole with the plastic bag along with them. Inside the bathroom was a white porcelain bowl.

“Pee in the bowl, then push the silver lever down when you’re done.” She closed the door behind her.

Braham peed in the bowl, pushed the lever, and watched water swirl around and disappear. Hanging over the washbasin was a reminder note to wash hands. He did, although he didn’t find any soap. When he finished, he hobbled back to the bed, holding tight to the pole for support.

Charlotte helped him settle in. She held up the little white box used to manipulate the bed. “This is the nurse call button, the bed remote, and the controls for the television. Did Jack introduce you to the wonders of TV?” She pointed to the box on the wall.

He shook his head.

“You want to go home, right?”

He nodded.

“Then we’re going to be vigilant about what you see, who you talk to, what you do. From that box you can learn everything there is to know about the past and the present. If you stumble across information which has the potential to change history, I won’t take you back. It almost happened to me. Sheridan threatened to burn down my ancestor’s home if I didn’t do what he asked.”

“What did he make you do? Rescue me?”

“He didn’t know what Lincoln wanted with a Confederate doctor, only that he wanted one. My point here is, I had no idea I could impact history so easily. My advice to you is don’t even turn on the television, don’t read newspapers or magazines, and, for God’s sake, stay off the web. If you’ll make a list of books you enjoy reading, Jack will get them. He might have some recommendations for you, too. In the meantime, take short walks and sleep. You probably haven’t had much sleep in the last few weeks.”

“When can I eat?”

“I see the orders are still NPO—nothing by mouth. You’ll get clear liquids later today. See how you do. You’re recovering quickly, and Ken and I believe it’s because you have no resistance built up to the medicines we use to treat infection. Since you’re doing so well, we’ll advance your diet as quickly as your body allows.”

“If I’m going to walk, I need clothes.”

“I’ll text Jack to bring you a robe and slippers. He should be here shortly. I’ll be back later, probably this evening. If you need me before then, ask the nurses to have me paged. Any more questions?”

He shook his head, wondering what had happened to the sweet woman with apple-scented hair who’d wrapped her arm around him.

12