She set some supplies down on a rolling table and moved about the room. “The orthopedic doctor is here to set and splint her arm,” she told them.
“Is it gonna hurt her?” Melanie asked.
The nurse squinted and sighed. “A little. The doctor will inject some pain meds in her arm, and with any luck, she won’t feel much after that.”
“All right.” Melanie stood when a man wearing a suit walked into the room.
“Mrs. Bartlett?”
Melanie corrected the man, like Wyatt had noticed her doing repeatedly throughout the day. “It’s Miss.”
He smiled. “I’m Doctor Johnson.”
The doctor glanced between the two of them as he explained what he was going to do.
As he spoke, he turned on a lighted box used to view X-rays and slid in what Wyatt assumed were Hope’s films. The break was clearly visible in her forearm, both bones crossed over each other in the wrong places.
That had to hurt.
“Once I line up the bones, it’s just a matter of time for it to fuse together again. In six weeks we’ll take the cast off. I don’t anticipate any problems.”
Another set of hands came in the room and started adjusting the bed to a higher level. Wyatt stood back and watched.
Hope stirred on the bed.
“Hope, sweetie, Mommy’s here.”
Hope moaned and blinked her eyes a few times. For Wyatt, it was the best thing he’d seen all day.
“Miss Gina’s gonna be mad.” These were the first words out of Hope’s mouth.
Melanie laid a gentle hand to Hope’s forehead as the staff in the room opened different packages of what Wyatt assumed was the splinting material for Hope’s arm.
“Miss Gina’s not mad,” Melanie told her daughter.
“Mommy?” The question and tone of Hope’s voice made Wyatt pause.
“That’s right, sweetie. I’m right here.”
“Something’s not right.” Hope looked beyond Melanie to those around the room.
“You’re in the hospital, honey. You fell.”
“Mommy . . . Miss Gina’s going to be mad.” Hope tried to move on the bed and cried out.
“Don’t move, baby.”
Hope opened her eyes again and stared at Melanie as if seeing her for the first time. “Mommy, is that you?”
Melanie started to tear up again. “Why does she keep asking me that?” she asked the doctor.
“Repetitive questions after a head injury are common. Most of the time they go away.”
Wyatt placed a hand on Melanie’s shoulder, she gripped it with one of hers. “Most of the time?”
“She’s already making more sense than when she first arrived. I know it’s hard, but just answer her questions and keep her calm.”
“Mommy, where am I?” Hope kept staring around the room until her eyes finally connected with his. “Uncle Wyatt?”
“Hey, princess.”
Hope gave him a strangled smile. “Miss Gina is mad.”
“We’re about to get started, Miss Bartlett. Do you want to stay here while we do this?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Melanie sat on the edge of the bed as if proving a point.
The nurse eyed Wyatt. “We need a little more room. Would you mind stepping outside?”
Wyatt turned to Melanie. “You gonna be okay?”
“Yep.”
No . . . she wasn’t, but she was putting on a good face.
Wyatt kissed the top of her head and stepped to the doorway. Jo stood just outside, her head tilted toward her cell phone. “No, don’t,” he heard her say. “Tell them to wait until I get back. There are a few things I want them to check out before we shut this case.”
The noise of a curtain closing and the voices inside Hope’s room carried into the hall, equally distracting from the conversation Jo was having.
He heard Hope whimper and cry and Melanie console her daughter, telling her it would all be better soon.
“One night. They’ve flown all this way. Hide their car keys . . . just keep them there.”
“Ouch, ouch . . . ouch.”
“Just do it, Emery.” Jo hung up the phone and tucked it into her front shirt pocket of her uniform.
“What was that all about?” Wyatt asked.
Jo released a frustrated breath. “Nothing . . . nothing. How is she?”
“They’re setting her arm.”
They stood with an ear toward the glass door, the hustling emergency room in full swing around them.
Hope let out another cry before the doctor’s voice stated the worst was over.
From there, Jo and Wyatt listened, and waited.
“See, Hope. It feels better now, doesn’t it?”
Wyatt leaned against the wall and started to feel some of the day seep into his bones. “I could sleep for a week,” he said under his breath.
“We all can,” Jo chimed in.
One of the nurses left the room and told them it was clear for them to go back in.
Wyatt pushed the curtain back and saw a bright purple cast holding Hope’s arm in a perfect L. She’d been crying, but Melanie was whispering in her ear while the staff cleaned up the room.
“I’m going to send her to X-ray again, make sure everything looks like it should, and then I’ll check on her during rounds tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Melanie shook the man’s hand.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Where’s the puppy?”
Melanie closed her eyes and shook her head. “There isn’t a puppy, honey.”