Home by Morning by Alexis Harrington

probably talked to nearly every person in town in the past two days. Who knows how many people were exposed? Who he shook hands with, breathed on? The children and the older folks around here will be coming down with it too.”
    “So all those men down at Tilly’s who didn’t want to help—”
    “They might get sick anyway, along with a lot of others.”
    “And us?”
    She sighed. “Yes, although we can try our best not to. Go downstairs to the back office right now and wash your hands with hot, soapy water, and don’t touch your face until you do. I’ve got to contact the hospital in Seattle and get some information. Maybe the Red Cross too.”
    He stood, making the bedsprings screech. He couldn’t help but admire her decisiveness. The same take-charge, resolute attitude that rubbed some men the wrong way—and which had drawn him to her as a strong-willed equal—was alive and well.
    She followed him down the steps and waited while he washed up, then she washed her own hands.
    “Will you need help taking care of Cookson? Should I get Granny Mae?”
    “God, no,” Jess muttered, wiping her hands on a clean towel.
    “Can you handle this alone?”
    She bent a look on him. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time in New York, Cole?”
    New York, New York, New York . He frowned, sick of being reminded of why everything went so wrong. The tension of wartime life, compounded by Pop, compounded by so many things, came alive in him. What had Jess found there that kept her from coming home as she’d promised? What had happened that caused her to break off their courtship? The question, which he’d managed to push to the back of his mind, had come roaring to his waking thoughts since she returned to Powell Springs. “That’s what I’ve wondered for two years. What have you been doing there?”
    Cole moved closer to Jess. His face, suddenly flushed and almost angry, was nearly in hers as he stood there. For a moment, she thought he might either shake her or kiss her. But apparently he expected an answer. The tension between them was like an electric current, snapping and dangerous. Unprepared for the sudden turn of the conversation, or the feeling that hot honey was running in her veins, she backed away, highly annoyed that he would raise the subject at this moment. She turned and with nervous, brittle energy began cleaning up the table she’d used to compound Eddie’s pills.
    “I’ve got a very sick patient upstairs, and you’re supposed to go tell his family where he is. Why in the world are we talking about this now?”
    “You keep bringing it up, Jess. You keep telling me how swell it was in New York. In your letters you told me you had too much important work to do to leave. I just want to know what was so damned special about it that you gave up everything here.”
    She spun around to look at him. “I never said it was ‘swell.’ But, yes, the work was important. You can’t know—I can’t explain how much—how desperately—” She stumbled to a stop and took up her chore again. Her heart seemed to be pounding as hard and fast as Eddie’s had when she’d listened to his chest.
    “Then why didn’t you stay there if it meant so much? Why did you leave it for a different job?”
    “ Why should you care?” she countered. “You’ll marry Amy and have a happy home. What difference does it make now?”
    For an instant, she thought he would pound his fist on the table, but instead he put up his hands and took a deep breath. His face fell into the unpleasant, stony expression she was growing accustomed to. “It doesn’t make any difference. I’ll go talk to Horace.” He walked away then, his boot heels resonating on the pine flooring. That was followed by the sound of the front door closing.
    A moment later, she heard the truck engine turn over, and Cole drove away.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Jessica spent a very long night taking care of Eddie. She dosed him with the pills every two hours.