Lydia

Two

Nick's whole body hurt, but it was his eyes that had the hardest time focusing. Dr. Caleb West told him it was because he had a concussion. Apparently, Nick's brain was jarred when Jakeson was using him as a punching bag. Dr. West told Nick that he'd start feeling better soon. But Nick was an impatient man, and he didn't want to wait to feel better. He had that blasted outlaw to capture.

Voices from out in the hallway drifted into the room where Nick waited for the doctor to return and release him. Dr. West instructed Nick to get some rest. He knew the longer he rested, the further away his outlaw would run.

Shifting his legs to the side of the bed, Nick struggled to stand. Once he was on his feet, his wobbly legs threatened to collapse. The room spun around him slowly at first, then gradually grew faster. He braced his hands on the wall and closed his eyes. He must fight this feeling. Getting well quickly was a top priority.

A woman's gasp ripped through the room. "Nicholas Drake, what in the blazes are you doing?"

Nick felt the woman's arms move around his waist before he had the chance to open his eyes and look at her. Lydia Swanson was still here? Why? She and her friend had been on their way to Libby, yet once they found him, Lydia instructed her friend to take Nick back to Stumptown and to Dr. West's office.

Keeping his gaze on her concerned face, he let her help him back to the bed. Even though his vision was slightly blurred, he still could see enough of her to remember how lovely she was. But he also recalled her stubborn temperament.

"Miss Swanson, you don't need to treat me like an invalid. I appreciate your help, but I don't need it."

Once she had pulled the blanket over his legs, she straightened and folded her arms. "Are you trying to be humorous, Agent Drake?"

"Not at the moment. Why do you ask?"

"Because, if I recall, those are the very words I'd said to you when you tried to help me after I'd caught my sister kissing my soon-to-be husband."

It hurt his head to think about what had happened a month ago, but she was right. He had tried to offer his assistance, and she'd rudely turned him away just as he was doing to her now. "Forgive me, Miss Swanson, but you're correct. However, I wasn't trying to be humorous. I assure you, I can get in and out of bed by myself."

"Really?" She cocked her head and narrowed her gaze on him. "That's why your face lost color, and you were braced against the wall as if you expected it to hold you up?"

Nick grumbled under his breath. Leave it to Lydia to point out that she was right and he was wrong. Again. "I'm trying to regain my strength. I have work to do. I can't stay in this bed any longer."

"Well, Dr. West told you—"

"Miss Swanson?" He stopped her. "Have you become the doctor's assistant?"

"Of course not."

"I didn't think so." He nodded. "So, until that happens, please refrain from telling me what I can and cannot do."

She glared, and her pretty gray eyes darkened. "Agent Drake," she said in a tight voice, "I made a promise, and until I feel I've completed that promise, I'm going to be your nursemaid whether you want me to or not."

His head pounded harder. "What promise are you referring to?"

Sighing heavily, she lifted her chin stubbornly. "After you had... um, comforted me a month ago, I told you – while still in your arms, mind you – that I appreciated your kindness, and one day I would return it." She shrugged. "Today is that day."