What Were You Expecting? (32 page)

Her throat was on fire and her muscles ached. Her head felt three sizes bigger than usual and she couldn’t breathe through her nose. She flipped onto her side to face Nils and his “good-morning” smile quickly turned into a look of concern.

“You’re really flushed.”

“I dinna feel well,” she confessed, trying to enjoy the feeling of his arm slung over her hip, but distracted by how beat up her body felt.

Nils reached up and felt her forehead. “You’re hot.”

“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked in a gravelly, nasal voice.

“Not a lot. Mostly just a slow ride home. Maybe stopping at Hayden and one of the boys mentioned Tower Falls. Tour’s meant to end by early afternoon, same as it began. But, I’ll cut it short. I’ll tell them we need to go straight back.” He crawled out of his sleeping bag and pulled on his jeans.

“No,” Maggie mumbled, the “o” sound ending with a light wheeze. She looked at his rumpled undershirt and realized, fleetingly, he had been sleeping beside her only wearing his underwear. She took a second to mourn how incredibly unfair it was that she hadn’t been able to enjoy that circumstance. “It’s your job. I’ll, uh, I’ll tough it out. I’ll stay in the van and rest when you make the stops.”

“Maggie May…you look terrible.”

“Thank you,” she said, triggering a coughing attack.

“And you sound like a seal.”

“A seal? Oh, no. Croup,” she croaked. “Croup sounds like seal barking.”

“Croup? What the hell is that?”

“I can’t have Croup. I’m a grown-up.” She closed her eyes and laid her arm across them, wondering how the hell she was going to get herself dressed, packed and into the van when she was feeling as weak as a kitten.

“I wish I had a signal,” Nils griped, looking at his phone before shoving it back in his pocket. “This croup. Is it serious?”

“It’s a childhood disease. Like mumps or measles. Gingy had it. Years ago. Barkin’ cough, flu-like symptoms. I remember.”

“And do you recall the course of treatment? Hospital or home?”

“Home. But, there was medicine, I think. I’m pretty sure.” She tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs felt so tight it started another coughing attack.

His hand may have been resting on her arm for a while, but she wasn’t sure. “I don’t like this, Mags. What can I do?”

“Water?” she rasped.

“God, of course!” He kissed her forehead then hurried out of the tent. She heard the hush of voices as he shared morning greetings with the Skinners.

A moment later he returned with a bottle of water and knelt beside her as Maggie raised her head. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t take effort. She took several gulps, enjoying the relief as the cool liquid slipped down her fiery throat. He offered her a couple of Advil and she swallowed them gratefully.

“Nils, dinna cancel the tour. I’ll get dressed and you help me into the van. I’ll sleep in the front seat.”

“And cough your brains out the whole day? Feverish? Maybe with chills? Maybe needing medicine?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Please. I’m strong. I’ll be—”

He reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead tenderly. “Mags, it’s done. It’s already done. When I got you the water, I told them you were sick and I wanted to get you home. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A tear slipped out of her eye as relief washed over her. As much as she would have tried to sleep in the van, it would have been a terribly long morning when all she longed for was her own bed. Still, he’d lose income, and it would be her fault. Messing up his life. Again.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m such a bloody nuisance. Sick and—”

“That’s enough.” He cupped her cheeks with his hands, stroking away her tears with his thumbs. “You’re not a nuisance. You’re wonderful. You’re also sick. I’m taking you home and putting you in bed and making you soup and staying with you until you feel better.”

She inhaled sharply, surprised by the conviction in his voice, the smooth delivery of his words, almost like he meant them, like they were real. Her lungs wheezed and she started coughing again.

He dropped his hands from her face as the coughing subsided. “Rest a while. I’ll send the Skinners out to do a little hiking and fishing while I break down the camp. I’ll come wake you up when it’s time to go.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head then stood up hunched over in the low tent as he headed for the opening.

“Nils!” she rasped.

He turned and looked at her with one hand holding the flap open. The sunlight filtered in behind him, making him look like a god, ethereal and strong and totally irreplaceable.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she let her eyelids flutter closed, her mind holding onto the image of her strong, beautiful, young husband bathed in a pool of morning light.

***

After he dropped off the Skinners at their hotel, Nils intended to take Maggie directly to her apartment. Damn, but she wasn’t looking good. She was slumped down in her seat, and aside from the occasional barking fit, she’d barely made a sound all the way back to Gardiner.

When they reached the hotel, Nils had pulled Mr. and Mrs. Skinner aside. “I’ll refund the money for the final day, folks.”

“Thank you, Nils,” replied Tom. “But there’s plenty of time for that. You tend to that pretty bride of yours.”

“I’m awful sorry about it all. If you need anything else before heading back to the airport tomorrow, I hope you’ll call my cell phone instead of the office.”

Danielle took the card with his personal number on it and gave him a hug. “We loved everything we saw on Friday and Saturday, and we loved getting to know you and Maggie. I think Tom would agree that we don’t feel like we missed out on a thing. Take care of Maggie. That’s a nasty cough she’s got. We hope she feels better soon.”

Nils waved good-bye and turned the van toward the Prairie Dawn. Once there, he parked in back and hurried around to Maggie’s side of the van. He unsnapped her seat belt and she raised her head to look at him, her eyes glassy and her face red. As she looked up, she erupted into another cycle of coughs, making her whole body shudder. She looked exhausted once they subsided.

“Nils. I feel so…awful.”

“I know, love. I can see.”

He picked her up into his arms, relieved she had the strength to loop her arms around his neck and moved swiftly to the back door, unlocking it clumsily with his key. He quickly made his way up the stairs and unlocked her apartment door, not stopping until he reached her bedroom.

“Mo mornin’,” she said softly into the crook of his neck.

“What?”

“Mo mornin’,” she said again.

He placed her gently on her bed. “What about morning? Maggie, I’m going to put you on the bed. Do you want help getting your jeans off?”

“Thanks,” she murmured, wheezing again.

He unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down her hips, reminding himself that she was sick and feverish and he had no business looking at her body with lust. He had no business imagining what it would be like when she welcomed him between her thighs, what it would feel like to be lodged inside of her.
Stop it, Nils. She’s sick, for God’s sake!
He tugged the pants off her body, but left her socks on after feeling to be sure they were still dry. She curled herself into a ball on top of her comforter and he could tell she was shivering.

“Maggie, I have to move you. I have to put you under the covers.”

She groaned and rolled slightly to her right so he could free the comforter, then he lifted her up and placed her gently on the sheets, covering her up again.

“So cold,” she muttered, coughing again.

He felt so worthless, so helpless, watching her cough and shiver, so little underneath the down of her covers. Then he had an idea. He kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt so the metal wouldn’t bite into her back. He slipped into bed behind her, pulling her into his arms just as he’d done for the last two nights, but this time there weren’t sleeping bags between them. There was nothing between them but his clothes and her underwear and t-shirt. And while the idea of making love to her someday ranked high on his list of favorite fantasies, right now, all he was interested in was offering her warmth and comfort.

“I’m here, love. I’ll keep you warm. Try to sleep.”

She sighed and relaxed, scooting back just slightly until her body was flush against his, soft and settled in his arms. She didn’t cough or wheeze and he was relieved when her breathing seemed to deepen and fall into a steady pattern. He was pretty sure she was asleep when she murmured something softly.

“Mo muirnín,” she whispered again and he recognized the burr in her voice. She wasn’t saying something about the “morning,” she was saying something in Gaelic.

“Mo muirnín?” he repeated, a question in his voice.

“Mmm. It’s what you called me. It’s what you are.” Her voice, soft and drowsy, tapered off as she finally fell into a deep sleep.

And Nils’s heart surged and swelled with unending tenderness for the woman in his arms as he realized that when she said “mo muirnín,” she was calling him “my love.”

***

Maggie felt awful.

She felt worse than awful.

She felt like she’d been hit by a truck, dragged for miles in thick smoke, and left to bake under an equatorial sun. Her body felt like it was on fire and her lungs were so tight she couldn’t even take a shallow breath without coughing.

“Maggie.”

Nils’s voice was close and her eyes fluttered opened to look for him. He was kneeling or squatting beside her bed, because his face, etched in worry, was level with hers.

“Nils,” she rasped and the sound was so low, so labored and raspy, she could barely hear it in her own ears.

“I called a doctor. He should be here soon. You’ve been coughing and burning up for hours. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. He called a doctor? Because the closest hospital was over an hour away, urgent care mobile doctors were popular in Gardiner, and house visits weren’t uncommon. But was she really that sick? Every muscle ached and as she tried to fill her diaphragm her lungs rebelled with a fierce throb of pain that resulted in a coughing attack. Yes. Yes, she was.

“Water?” she groaned in her half-voice, and a moment later Nils was pressing a glass to her parched lips.

She heard the faint knocking of her front door, and he pulled the glass away from her, setting it gently on her bedside table. “I’ll be right back.”

Five minutes later Doctor Garrison was in her room. He turned on her bedside lamp, illuminating her otherwise dark room. It was dark? What time was it? How long had she been asleep? Had Nils been at her place the whole time?

“Heya, Maggie.”

She looked up at him without moving her head from the pillow. The effort to say hello was enough. Lifting her head felt impossible. Nonetheless, she was glad to see him. She’d seen Doc G several times at the local clinic and he was the closest thing she had to a personal physician. “Heya, doc.”

“Ooo! That doesn’t sound any good.” He reached out to touch the nodes under her ears, which smarted tenderly from his touch, then popped a thermometer in her mouth. “101.4. That’s high enough to feel pretty bad, I guess.” After reading the thermometer, he checked her throat, wincing at what he saw, then reached down to take a stethoscope out of his backpack.

He turned back to Maggie. “Can you roll to your side?”

She did, but the effort it took made her start coughing again. Once the fit subsided, she felt the stethoscope pressing against her back. “Breathe in. Huh. Again. Yep. And again.”

Each time she took a breath it resulted in more coughing so it took a few minutes, but eventually she felt Nils’s hand on her shoulder, easing her onto her back. He sat down on the bed beside her, as Doctor Garrison tucked his stethoscope back into his bag.

“It’s not croup. Without the benefit of a blood test, I can’t be a hundred percent certain, but my best guess? You’ve got the flu. And a little laryngitis, too.”

“The flu?” asked Nils. “But it’s August.”

“Flu don’t care what month it is, Nils.” He glanced around Nils at Maggie. “And you’ve got a doozy of a case. But you say the symptoms only started this morning? Well, I can give you an antiviral medication, Maggie.” He rummaged through his bag again, taking out a small sleeve of pills packaged between foil and clear plastic. “Take two of these once a day. Lots of rest. Plenty of liquid. A couple of Advil every six hours. Might feel worse before you feel better, but you’ll be on the upswing in a couple of days.”

Nils took the sleeve of medication from the doctor and walked him out. When he returned, he helped Maggie sit up so she could take her two pills and swallow them down with a little water.

“You should go home,” she whispered as he plumped her pillow before helping her settle back down under the covers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning over her to kiss her forehead. “Mind if I make myself something to eat? I’ll come to bed later.”

“You should stay away from me,” she said. “You’ll catch it, too.”