Page 88 of Shadow Redemption
His eyes closed. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was asleep.
She stared in amazement. Incredible. She wished she could do that. Although she was determined to stay awake and watch over Ben, she grew sleepy. Ruth drifted until Sam returned. “How is Ben?”
“Running a fever. Not unexpected. That’s why I gave him the antibiotic.” The medic glanced over her shoulder at her husband who leaned one shoulder against the door jamb. “Ice packs.”
“You got it.” He left and returned with ice in plastic bags and two hand towels.
“Thanks, babe.” Sam settled one against Ben’s neck and draped the second over his forehead.
He shivered and groaned. “Off.”
“Nope. You have a fever.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“I live to make you suffer.”
“Knew it.”
Sam patted his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon. Ruth, make sure he leaves the ice packs in place.”
After she left, Ben reached for the ice pack on his neck. Ruth grabbed his hand and brought it back to her waist. “You heard the lady. I don’t want to be on her bad side.”
“Wuss.”
“Yep, that’s me. I might be a foot taller than Sam, but she could take me down. I don’t want to tick her off. I’ll leave that honor to you.”
His lips curved as he drifted back to sleep.
Throughout the hours they rested, the medic checked on Ben in intervals. Finally, a few minutes after eight, Ben opened his eyes and cupped Ruth’s cheek. “Hi, beautiful.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like a truck ran over me. You?”
“Same.”
“Great way to end this contract. How much trouble will you get into with Scott and Rich if you’re late again?”
“Don’t know or care. Will you stay in the suite and rest today?”
“Not a chance. Sam will watch me while I watch you. With the exception of Autumn and maybe her boyfriend, I don’t trust your co-workers.”
Sam returned. “How do you feel, Ben?”
He frowned at her over his shoulder. “Like Dr. Frankenstein used me for a pin cushion. How about you?”
The medic grinned as she checked his vitals. “I need a nap. Some of us didn’t get our beauty rest like you did.”
“Well?” he said a moment later.
“My professional diagnosis is that you’ll live. Fever’s down and the wound isn’t showing signs of infection.”
“Great. I need a shirt. Any chance I can take a shower with these stitches?”
“I’ll rig up something for you.”
“Thanks, Sam. For everything.”