the chart and flipped casually through the pages, the steady beat of the machinery counting the mounting seconds of tension. On a heavy sigh, she closed it and smiled at the family, the expression full of compassion. “The good news is we’ve found the major root of John’s illness.” She pushed her glasses up onto her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as if gathering her thoughts.
She cleared her throat, the sound tightening the knot of dread weighing in Meghan’s stomach. Her gaze swept over the family. “There’s no easy way to say this except straight out. We believe John is being poisoned.”
The sharp inhale of disbelief echoed in the small room.
“You can’t be serious.” Deirdre pushed off the wall, stalking to the bed and staring over at the doctor.
The doctor shook her hand to halt further confusion. “We don’t believe it’s purposefully.” She laid a hand on John’s arm and looked into the man’s eyes, concern etched in the deep furrow of her brow. “Do you have a gun collection?”
John nodded.
“Do you clean and polish them?”
Her father’s head moved slowly up and down again.
Dr. Dixon straightened and squeezed John’s shoulder. “It appears you’ve been poisoning yourself slowly with selenium, John. It’s a compound in the gun bluing solution. It’s similar to arsenic and just compounds over time. We’ve tested your hair and urine, and it’s there. The exhaustion and nausea are due to the poison. We think the stress of it on your system has affected your heart.”
Alice stood tall. Her strength amazed Meghan. “So now what do we do?” her mother asked.
One corner of the doctor’s mouth lifted, but there was only sadness in the smile. “That’s the difficult thing. There is no antidote. I’m sorry.” She paused for a moment and swallowed hard. “But we’re very hopeful we’ve caught it in plenty of time. We’ll increase his fluids and calcium intake. We need to flush the poison from his system as quickly as possible.” She met the glazed stare of worry on each person in the room before turning back to their father. “We’ll need to do some additional gastrointestinal tests to check for permanent damage, but we have every reason to believe you’ll make a full recovery, John.”
Meghan fell against Peter, relief stinging her eyes. All the months of worry and fear had culminated to this moment. There would be no long-term facility, no more late-night vigils in the hospital. Finally, it was over.
“I’ll call Dr. McCarty and let him know,” Dr. Dixon said. “If everything goes as hoped, we’ll be able to transfer you back to the Delmont hospital in a week or two where you can complete your recovery, John.” She smiled, and this time hope sparkled in her eyes. “You’ll be in good hands with Dr. McCarty.”
Chapter 11
“I don’t understand.” Peter poured two more cups of coffee and sat down next to Meghan at the kitchenette. She’d just finished recounting her trouble with the garage door opener. “None of this makes any sense, Meggie.” Concern slithered up his back, and he shivered. “First the cooler, now this.” He leaned over and gathered her in his arms, inhaling the citrus scent of her perfume. “I think your head’s been with your father in the hospital rather than focused on what you’re doing. I still can’t figure out how you locked yourself out of the house and your car.”
“Let’s face it, I’m a klutz.” She smiled at him, and his heart skipped in his chest.
Desire flared immediately. Between John’s illness and the thought of her in danger, Peter just wanted to hold Meghan close and feel the heat of her passion writhing beneath him. He needed the confirmation that they were both alive and well, and all was right with the world. He dipped his head, sucking her full bottom lip into his mouth, reveling in the familiar taste of her.
“How long did you say Chelsea would be at the shop?” Passion
She cleared her throat, the sound tightening the knot of dread weighing in Meghan’s stomach. Her gaze swept over the family. “There’s no easy way to say this except straight out. We believe John is being poisoned.”
The sharp inhale of disbelief echoed in the small room.
“You can’t be serious.” Deirdre pushed off the wall, stalking to the bed and staring over at the doctor.
The doctor shook her hand to halt further confusion. “We don’t believe it’s purposefully.” She laid a hand on John’s arm and looked into the man’s eyes, concern etched in the deep furrow of her brow. “Do you have a gun collection?”
John nodded.
“Do you clean and polish them?”
Her father’s head moved slowly up and down again.
Dr. Dixon straightened and squeezed John’s shoulder. “It appears you’ve been poisoning yourself slowly with selenium, John. It’s a compound in the gun bluing solution. It’s similar to arsenic and just compounds over time. We’ve tested your hair and urine, and it’s there. The exhaustion and nausea are due to the poison. We think the stress of it on your system has affected your heart.”
Alice stood tall. Her strength amazed Meghan. “So now what do we do?” her mother asked.
One corner of the doctor’s mouth lifted, but there was only sadness in the smile. “That’s the difficult thing. There is no antidote. I’m sorry.” She paused for a moment and swallowed hard. “But we’re very hopeful we’ve caught it in plenty of time. We’ll increase his fluids and calcium intake. We need to flush the poison from his system as quickly as possible.” She met the glazed stare of worry on each person in the room before turning back to their father. “We’ll need to do some additional gastrointestinal tests to check for permanent damage, but we have every reason to believe you’ll make a full recovery, John.”
Meghan fell against Peter, relief stinging her eyes. All the months of worry and fear had culminated to this moment. There would be no long-term facility, no more late-night vigils in the hospital. Finally, it was over.
“I’ll call Dr. McCarty and let him know,” Dr. Dixon said. “If everything goes as hoped, we’ll be able to transfer you back to the Delmont hospital in a week or two where you can complete your recovery, John.” She smiled, and this time hope sparkled in her eyes. “You’ll be in good hands with Dr. McCarty.”
Chapter 11
“I don’t understand.” Peter poured two more cups of coffee and sat down next to Meghan at the kitchenette. She’d just finished recounting her trouble with the garage door opener. “None of this makes any sense, Meggie.” Concern slithered up his back, and he shivered. “First the cooler, now this.” He leaned over and gathered her in his arms, inhaling the citrus scent of her perfume. “I think your head’s been with your father in the hospital rather than focused on what you’re doing. I still can’t figure out how you locked yourself out of the house and your car.”
“Let’s face it, I’m a klutz.” She smiled at him, and his heart skipped in his chest.
Desire flared immediately. Between John’s illness and the thought of her in danger, Peter just wanted to hold Meghan close and feel the heat of her passion writhing beneath him. He needed the confirmation that they were both alive and well, and all was right with the world. He dipped his head, sucking her full bottom lip into his mouth, reveling in the familiar taste of her.
“How long did you say Chelsea would be at the shop?” Passion
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