You are Mine

Seven

Wyatt stared out the window... because he could. Doctor Jackson didn't know what kind of privilege it was just to see more than a few minutes a day when the doctor changed his bandages. But today, he felt like he could jump with excitement and run around the hospital, enjoying his sight as much as he could. He would always cherish God's gift. And once he finally gained his memory, that would be another thing he could cherish.

One more of God's gifts was having a sweet angel as his nurse. He prayed that he was the man she thought him to be, because her presence made him happy. His heartbeat skipped every time he heard her voice, and every time she walked by his bed, he wanted to stop her and have her visit with him just to stare at her lovely face.

From nearby, he smelled a hint of Jessica's flowery perfume, and he whipped his gaze toward the nearest door. His hopes sank when it was Nurse Tweed coming toward him instead of his dear Jessica. The older nurse wore a scowl. Then again, she always looked this way.

"Good afternoon," he greeted politely.

"Doctor Jackson shouldn't have removed your bandages. Your burns have worsened."

What was she talking about? Even the doctor had noticed this morning a remarkable difference. Immediately, he was on the defensive. Putting on his bandages meant covering his eyes. He shook his head. "Doctor Jackson will check me tomorrow morning to see if I've improved or worsened."

"Well, I'm your nurse, and I will do as I see fit." She reached in the medical supply bag that Doctor Jackson usually carried when changing Wyatt's dressings. She pulled the chair closer to his bed and sat. "Lie still while I put this ointment on your face."

As she lifted the bottle to pour some out, Wyatt lifted his hand, stopping her. "No!" Irritation coated his voice, and he hoped the woman would get the hint and leave. Instead, she arched an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, but you don't have a choice. You're a patient here – and while you're in this ward, you are also considered a prisoner."

Wyatt fisted his hands. How dare she make him sound like a criminal? And yet... maybe he was. After all, he was in this ward with the other deserters, so what if he was a criminal?

"Yes, ma'am," he grumbled. If he tried to physically stop her, she would have the sheriff arrest him immediately.

She gave him a smug look and poured some ointment on her fingers before reaching out to him. "This will sting slightly, but just grit your teeth."

"Hold on," he said again, grasping her wrist to stop her. His twisting gut told him something wasn't right.

"Now what?" she snapped.

"What kind of ointment is this? Doctor Jackson usually applies medicine to my burns, but he's never used this. It doesn't smell like the ones he's used before." And it definitely didn't smell like Jessica's creams.

She huffed. "If you question my authority one more time, I'll summon the sheriff. Is that clear?"

He really couldn't do anything, especially with her in charge. He glanced at the other men in the ward. All of them looked his way with wide eyes. Most of the men looked panicked, too.

"Take your hand of me. Now."

He did as she asked, even if he didn't want to. Indeed, he was a prisoner in this ward.

The ointment touched his burn and stung. When Doctor Jackson first started administering medicine to Wyatt's face, it was his burns that stung. This time, even the areas that were not burned stung. Closing his eyes, he took her advice and gritted his teeth, but the pain only increased.