Читать книгу Daddy By Choice - Paula Riggs Detmer - Страница 13

Maddy stirred restlessly, then surfaced from a twilight sleep with a nagging sense of anxiety. The room had grown darker, she realized as she opened her eyes. The TV was on in the room next to hers—she could hear it faintly—and on the street below, a horn blared, the sound muffled by both distance and the old hotel’s thick brick walls. She had no concept of time, just that the worst was over and she’d survived.

Lifting her hand, she touched the cloth on her head. To her surprise it was still cold. Slowly she turned her head, expecting to see Luke sprawled in the chair, his feet propped on the edge of the bed, his eyes heavy lidded and lazy as he watched over her.

She was already rehearsing the words that would send him down to dinner without her when her breath dammed up in her throat. There was a woman sitting where Luke had been, a tiny woman with bright copper curls and an even brighter orange sleeveless shirt who was watching her with big brown eyes. Madelyn guessed her age to be late thirties, early forties. Her contemporary certainly.

Seeing that Madelyn was awake, she smiled and held up a hand. Madelyn noticed that she wore a wedding ring. She’d removed her own on the day Wiley had rejected their child. “Don’t panic, I’m a nurse. Luke had to leave to make rounds, and he asked me to hang out here until he got back.”

Madelyn cleared the sleep from her throat. “I’m Madelyn Foster,” she said before finding a smile of her own.

“Yes, I know. I’m Prudy Randolph. I work with Luke at Portland General. He’s also a good friend.” She unfolded her legs in order to lean forward. “How’s the head?”

“Better, thanks. Sleep almost always does the trick. The hard part is getting to sleep.”

Ms. Randolph offered a look of sympathy. “Think you can manage some water?”

Madelyn was so thirsty she decided to risk unsettling her stomach. “Yes, please.”

“I just got some ice from the machine for the compress,” the woman said as she sprang to her feet and headed for the bathroom.

While the water ran and the pipes rattled, Madelyn carefully moved the compress from her head to the nightstand. After a few testing breaths she sat up. She felt woozy, but much better.

“Luke tells me you’re from Texas,” Ms. Randolph said when she returned, a glass of water in one hand and a bucket filled with what sounded like ice and water.

“Yes, ma’am,” Madelyn replied, taking the glass between both her hands as she added a polite thank-you.

“Please, call me Prudy. I have this overpowering urge to run to the mirror to check for crow’s feet and sagging eyelids whenever anyone calls me ma’am.”