The Texan’s Bride(32)

“If you wanted a child so much, why didn’t you ask Gavin?”

“I’m not married to Gavin!” she shouted. “If you want to fight, Cadde, we’ll fight.” She leaned her head against the headrest. “But I’m so tired.”

He felt like a heel. She’d been through a traumatic experience and he was grilling her like a jealous man.

The stress of the day was finally catching up with her. She deflated like a balloon, all her energy gone. He sped toward Ben Taub Hospital. It took about an hour in the emergency room. They called Gavin to get the immunization status of the Dobermans. Their shots were up-to-date so there was no rabies scare.

The doctor said Jessie was fine. Removing her bloody T-shirt and bra, she slipped on a hospital gown. Jessie was docile through the whole thing, which must have been a first. They cleaned the bites and the doctor reported the dog’s teeth hadn’t hit a vein and hadn’t damaged a muscle. But one bite was a gash that he was afraid would open. He numbed the right side of her neck and put a stitch in and added two strips of surgical tape, hoping it wouldn’t leave a noticeable scar.

He gave her an antibiotic injection and something to help her rest. He told her she needed to follow up with her doctor so the wounds could be watched for infection.

Leaving the hospital, he could see the shot was already beginning to affect Jessie. She yawned and snuggled into the seat. Since he knew she would insist on seeing Mirry first thing in the morning, he took her to the apartment. It was closest. Jessie didn’t resist.

On the ride up in the elevator, she said in a sleepy voice, “I have to call Gavin.”

“Let’s wait a minute.” Once inside, he handed her his phone. Hers was either in the truck or on the ground at the house.

She punched in Gavin’s number. She knew it by heart so she must have called him often. That relationship still puzzled him. After a moment, she clicked off and gave him the phone.

“Mirry’s out of surgery and resting comfortably. Gavin said the Doberman almost bit off her neck. He had to do a lot of repair work and now we wait to see if she’ll survive. Oh, my poor Mirry.” She sagged against him and began to cry low pitiful sounds.

He held her. “She’ll make it.” He stroked soft unbelievably smooth skin through the opening on the back of the gown. Just when his emotions were spiraling in another direction, she pulled away.

“What am I wearing?”

“A hospital gown.”

“Where’s my T-shirt and bra?” She felt her breasts and he tried to look anywhere but at the rounded flesh pushing against the cotton. He failed.

He exhaled. “The nurse threw them out. They were ruined with blood stains.”

“Oh.”

“Come on. You’re asleep on your feet.” He led her down the hall and flipped on the lights. Pulling back the brown comforter and tan sheet, he guided her forward. She plopped onto the side of the four-poster bed, her chin bobbing on her chest.

He knelt in front of her and removed her blood-spotted sneakers.

She raised her head. “I’ve always wondered about the women you brought here.”

“Have you?” He glanced into her sleep-filled eyes.

“Mmm. Now I’m here.”

“You’re my wife,” he said, puzzling himself. But he never imagined she thought of him at all. Much less whom he dated before their marriage.

She scrunched up her face. “Does that make a difference?”

That didn’t require an answer because he had a feeling she wasn’t aware of what she was saying or asking.

“We have to get your jeans off,” he told her. “Lie down. It might be easier.”

“Okeydokey.” She leaned back, her arms above her head.

He meant for her to help him, but evidently that wasn’t going to happen. Undoing the button and zipper, he said. “Raise your hips.”

“Okeydokey.” She lifted her hips.

What was in that medication the doctor had given her? She wasn’t acting like prim and proper Jessie. He yanked from the hem and they slipped off. She wore white bikini panties with a lace trim. Somehow he knew they’d be white, not that he’d thought about it. Much.

“Get straight in the bed.”

“Where’s the bed?”

He smiled, feeling cocky that he’d seen Jessie with her guard down, no defense or attitude anywhere in sight. “You’re on it,” he replied, and helped her to scoot under the sheet.

“Cadde,” she murmured.

He pushed her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering for a moment on the taped skin on her neck. Thank God he’d gotten there in time. “Sweet dreams, Jessie.”