A Cowboy's Kiss Read online

  Why was everyone talking to her as if she was a child or something so fragile that too loud of a noise would cause her to crumble?

  When she was finally able to drink without coughing, the water felt so incredible. Cold, wet, a balm to a throat that felt raw and unused. She never wanted to stop drinking, but eventually the woman pulled away the cup.

  “You don’t want to overdo it. You haven’t had anything to drink in a while.”

  “Where…?” What was wrong with her voice? It sounded weak, raspy, as if she hadn’t used it in… “Where am I?” Her words came out as a painful whisper, and her eyes for some reason sought those of the man, the familiar.

  He helped her lie back as a mechanical buzzing clicked something in her brain a moment before she realized the sound was the woman—a nurse—raising the back of a hospital bed.

  “You’re in the hospital in Livingston, but you’re okay.”

  She tried to speak again, swallowed against a throat that had gone completely dry. After another drink, she met the man’s eyes, then noticed his white lab coat. A doctor.

  “Why?” Voicing the single word tired her, and her eyes closed.

  “You were in an accident, and you’ve been sleeping for a while.”

  Something about the way the doctor said it scared her, causing her eyes to open again. No, it wasn’t how he’d answered her question, but something at the back of her memory made her afraid to go back to sleep, afraid she’d never wake up again.

  The panic must have shown on her face because the doctor squeezed her hand as he reclaimed his seat next to the bed just as another doctor stepped into the room. The first doctor nodded toward the new arrival. “This is Dr. Mills. He’s been taking care of you. He was here earlier when you initially woke up but continued his morning rounds when you dozed off.”

  “Hello,” Dr. Mills said. “It’s good to see you awake again. What do you remember?”

  She searched her mind, feeling as if she was lifting boulders to look for clues beneath them. With each one, she became more frustrated.

  “It’s okay,” the first doctor said.

  She abandoned her search and looked at him. His name felt as if it was close. “I know you.”

  He nodded but didn’t provide the answer. “It’ll come to you.”

  Why wouldn’t he tell her? After all, he’d revealed the other doctor’s name. Another cog turned in the wheel of her mind. “How long…?” She swallowed, trying to rid herself of feeling as if her throat was two sheets of sandpaper rubbing together.

  “You’ve been here a bit more than a week.”

  A jolt went through her. A week? How was that possible? She did not have a week’s worth of memories of being in the hospital.

  She shook her head on the pillow, and for a moment her vision swam.

  “Time is probably messed up for you right now, but that will get better,” Dr. Mills said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You were in an accident that caused a head injury. You’ve been in a coma since the night you were brought in,” he said.

  “A coma?” She choked halfway through the second word, but this time it wasn’t because of the need for water.

  The still nameless doctor nodded when she looked at him. “You had a head injury, but your neurologist lives nearby and it was decided not to move you to a bigger hospital. He decided the amount of swelling you had would likely diminish within a few days. Sometimes the body just needs time to heal itself before it’s ready to resume normal function.”

  She started to lift her arm, to examine her head for the injury, but like every other part of her body it felt as if it weighed a literal ton.

  “You’ll get your strength back, too,” Dr. Mills said, seeming to be able to read her mind. “We’ll help you with that.”

  Despite her determination to stay awake, her eyes started to close. With great effort, she opened them again.

  “It may take you a while to stay awake very long, but you’ll get there,” Dr. Mills said.

  “I’m scared.”

  The doctor she knew but couldn’t name placed his other hand over the top of hers, sandwiching hers between the warmth of his. Did doctors normally do things like that? She either couldn’t remember or she’d had no idea in the first place.

  “You can rest without worrying. Your doctors and nurses will keep a close eye on you.”

  The warmth of his words matched that of his hands, and that helped her to believe him. As she allowed her eyes to drift closed, she hoped he was telling the truth and she wasn’t dropping into a darkness that stole more of her life.

  Chapter Two

  Anna didn’t know how much time had elapsed since she was last awake. Minutes? Days? Another week? The passage of time felt weird, like she was watching it from outside herself and totally unaware of it at the same time. She scanned the room but this time no one was there. Her door was closed, but she could still hear muted sounds through the thick wood—voices, though not the specific words, footsteps, what sounded like a wheeled cart of some kind.

  She shifted her gaze toward the window. Even though she couldn’t see anything outside from her vantage point, sunlight poured in.

  Her mind still felt as if fog shrouded it, her memories. She remembered a nurse and a doctor. Actually, multiple doctors, several nurses. But the first doctor, the one she thought she knew, had a nice voice, a combination of gentleness and confidence that soothed the raw panic that had threatened to overwhelm her when she’d first awakened in the hospital. Only…that wasn’t the first time she’d woken up, was it? According to the doctor who was evidently assigned to her—Dr. Mills, if she was remembering correctly—there had been at least one other time, maybe more. The memories were blurry no matter how many times she blinked her mind’s eye.

  All except one. Her pulse surged as she suddenly remembered waking up with a tube down her throat. Why hadn’t she remembered that the time she woke to the sight of the nice doctor sitting beside her bed? Her head felt as if someone had removed it from her body and shaken it like a snow globe.

  That thought rang a bell. Something the doctor had said? Before she could grasp what it might have been, the door opened. A nurse entered, but Anna didn’t recognize her.

  “Well, hello there,” the young blonde said, then smiled as if Anna was a dear friend she hadn’t seen in ages. “Good to see you awake.”

  The nurse started checking Anna’s vitals and the monitors on a rolling pole near the head of the bed. Anna focused on the woman’s brightly colored scrubs. She realized they had the characters from Winnie the Pooh all over them.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Anna licked her dry lips and searched for the right word. “Fuzzy.”

  “That’s to be expected, but you’re doing really well considering what you’ve been through.”

  Anna swallowed, and the nurse must have noticed because suddenly she was lifting the head of Anna’s bed and offering her some water. Though the cool wetness felt good, she also noticed that her throat wasn’t quite as sore as before.

  “How long?” She stumbled over the words as if they were foreign, but she managed to get them out.

  “This is your eighth day here.”

  So she’d seen the first doctor…last night?

  Anna must have looked confused because the nurse gave her a sympathetic look.

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  It felt as if she was stretching a muscle that hadn’t been used in a while as she tried to remember what had landed her in this hospital bed. Actually, she supposed she was doing exactly that.

  “Accident?”

  “Good. That’s a positive sign that you remember that.”

  Anna shook her head slowly.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Doctor…said.”

  “Dr. White?”

  Anna felt her facial muscles reflect confusion.

  The nurse held her hand flat a couple inches above her
own head. “So tall? Beard? He’s your neurologist.”

  Anna shook her head slowly on the pillow. “Taller.”

  “Dr. Mills is the primary care physician assigned to you.”

  “No, other one.” She swallowed again. “Not one of my doctors.”

  Then why had he been there at all? Were they good friends?

  “Oh, Dr. McQueen must have told you soon after you woke up. He and Dr. Mills have a primary care practice together, but since you and Dr. McQueen know each other, Dr. Mills is working with Dr. White on your care.”

  McQueen. That name sounded familiar.

  “Know him,” Anna said, echoing a fact the other woman evidently already knew.

  “Yeah, he said you two went to school together. Lucky duck.” The nurse smiled in a way that telegraphed that she thought Dr. McQueen was good-looking. Anna tried to bring his face up in her memory, but though she couldn’t quite do it she got the sense the nurse had made an accurate assessment of his attractiveness.

  “He’ll actually be by for his afternoon rounds anytime now. You’re right. He’s not part of your care team, but he’s been checking on you since he knows you. Dr. White or Dr. Mills will talk to you soon about how you’re feeling and what rehab you might need.”

  Rehab? Just how damaged was she?

  The nurse—Anna could make out her nametag read Brittany now—patted her arm.

  “Don’t worry. We just want to make sure you’re up and about in no time. Your muscles will need to be reminded a bit of what they’re supposed to do. And they’ll likely want to do occupational therapy to make sure everything is healing correctly from your head injury.”

  The sound of approaching footsteps caused Brittany to glance toward the door. “See, here’s Dr. McQueen now.”

  Anna turned her head on her pillow to see the face that went with the soothing voice. Another puzzle piece slid into place. Roman McQueen. That was his name.

  “Good afternoon,” he said as he entered the room. “You look like you’re feeling more alert today.”

  It took her a moment to respond, her mind still focused on the fact she’d remembered his name.

  Instead of answering verbally, she nodded.

  “She said she feels fuzzy,” Brittany told him.

  Dr. McQueen smiled at Anna, and it caused warmth to fill her. It was nice considering she suddenly realized she felt as if she’d been trapped somewhere cold for a long time.

  “That will gradually clear. Dr. White will be by later to do an assessment.”

  Anna sighed. Dr. White might very well be a good neurologist, but his bedside manner wasn’t what one would call friendly. Or maybe it was just that because Dr. McQueen knew her, she was more comfortable around him.

  “How long? Can you do it instead?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a neurologist, not even your primary care physician.”

  “But you’re a doctor.”

  Her need for some answers, at least some sort of interaction that didn’t leave her in this bed with only questions for company, must have shown on her face because in the next moment, he moved close to her side.

  “How about I see if Dr. White can come by now?”

  “Will you stay?”

  “If you want me to.” He pulled out a phone and sent a quick text.

  Dr. White must have already been in the building because Anna felt as if she’d only taken a few breaths before he came striding in through the doorway. After a perfunctory greeting, he sank onto a stool next to her bed and held up his right index finger as Dr. McQueen stepped away to stand in the corner but still where she could see him.

  “Follow my finger with your eyes.” Dr. White started moving it slowly side to side, and despite an initial moment of dizziness she was able to track his movements.

  “Good. Now let’s switch it up a little.”

  She concentrated as he raised his finger upward then back down past the starting point, and then created diagonal movements.

  “How does that feel? Any dizziness? Nausea?”

  “A little…when you went faster.” She hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

  She closed her eyes, hoping to get rid of the sudden sensation that she was lying in a rocking boat.

  “You okay?” Dr. McQueen asked.

  The rocking settled, so she opened her eyes. “Yeah.”

  “How about we just talk for a bit?” Dr. White asked, seeming to soften his manner a smidge. Perhaps it was Dr. McQueen’s presence in the room that had inspired the small change.

  Anna got the feeling there was more to his suggestion, but she gave a slight nod that thankfully didn’t cause any further dizziness.

  “Let’s start with something simple. Can you tell me your name?”

  “Anna.”

  “Last name?”

  “Kenner.” That she didn’t have to think about the answer felt oddly like an accomplishment.

  “Where do you live?”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Panic threatened, but she did her best to rein it in.

  “If you can’t remember now, it may come in time.”

  May? She didn’t like the sound of that.

  “No,” she said with more force than she intended. “I know this.” She concentrated on the flicker of images in her mind. A small house with purple flowers in the window. Cows. Mountains in the distance. A stack of books. Then the answer arrived in her brain as if it were a passenger on a train pulling into the station.

  “Logan Springs. I work at the library.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  She shifted her gaze to Dr. McQueen. “And…we know each other.”

  He nodded. “I was a year ahead of you in school.”

  Over the next several minutes, Dr. White asked her more questions. She managed to pick up that he was deliberately making them progressively more difficult, though none of them should be hard for a fully functioning adult. She decided it was her turn to do the asking.

  “What happened to me? Specifically.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by her question. Did that mean she was making normal progress in her recovery?

  “The cause is unknown, but you were in a car accident in which your car rolled down a steep embankment off the side of the interstate. You suffered some head trauma from where you hit the driver’s side window with some force. There was some subsequent swelling around your brain, which we had to relieve. We were able to do that with medication, though that was initially up for debate.”

  She didn’t want to think about what the other possibilities had been. The mere thought of having part of her skull removed threatened to make her sick.

  “You were lucky that a couple found you, and then you were brought here,” Dr. McQueen said, his tone more comforting and less clinical, more the answer of a friend.

  “Do you have any memory of the accident?” Dr. White asked.

  She tried to remember, but there was nothing. A big blank where an accident should be. “Sorry, no.”

  “That’s not unusual. The truth is you might never remember it, but keep trying. If someone caused this, anything you remember might help the police. In the meantime, we need to get you moving before your muscles atrophy any further and to make sure your body and brain are communicating correctly.” He stood abruptly. “Brittany will help you with that.”

  And with that, he was gone. And Dr. McQueen moved to follow.

  “You’re leaving?” She immediately hated how needy she sounded, but for some reason having Dr. McQueen there gave her some semblance of calm.

  “You’re in good hands,” he said with a nod toward Brittany. “But I can stay for a few minutes if you want.”

  Brittany moved to Anna’s side. It seemed as if she was trying to hide a smile. What was that about?

  “Try sitting up on your own,” Brittany said.

  Anna inhaled a deep breath and wrapped her hands around the railings on the sides of the bed. Pulling herself to a sitting position caused her
arms to shake, but she was determined. Still, the amount of strength it took surprised her. If she was this weak after only a few days, how much harder must it be for people who were in comas for longer? Thank God she’d awakened when she did.

  “Good job,” Brittany said. “I can tell you’re going to kick therapy’s butt.”

  She laughed a little at the very thought of kicking anything’s butt at the moment.

  “And it’s good to see a smile, too.”

  “Okay, release the railings,” Brittany said.

  Anna did as directed and was surprised by how much her body protested. It wasn’t just lack of strength and atrophied muscles, either. For the first time she realized just how sore she was. Deep aches and sharp pains reminded her that she’d been in what sounded like a bad accident.

  That meant…

  “My car is totaled, isn’t it?”

  Brittany glanced at Dr. McQueen. Neither of them seemed surprised by her out-of-the-blue question. Maybe head trauma patients asked crazy, stream-of-consciousness questions all the time.

  “Yes, its days of being drivable are over,” Dr. McQueen said as he moved around to stand next to Brittany.

  The realization caused her to grab the railing again. She didn’t make much as a librarian, so having to unexpectedly buy a new car was unwelcome news. She suspected her medical bills would be, too. She had both car and health insurance, but it wasn’t top-of-the-line coverage and she seriously doubted the policies would cover everything.

  The silver lining? That she’d just been able to remember all those details about her life. But she was also wiped and made to lie back down.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Brittany said, placing a hand on her shaky arm. “We need to get you out of this bed for a while.”

  “As much as I like that idea, I don’t think I have enough strength.”

  “You might surprise yourself.”

  “I promise we won’t let you fall,” Dr. McQueen said. “Friends don’t let friends face plant on hospital floors.”

  She met his eyes as he said that last part, and her breath caught as she remembered something else—that she’d always thought Roman McQueen was handsome. Really handsome. And way out of her league, not to mention her comfort zone.