Because You're Mine(53)

The doctor pushed through the door. “How are we this morning?”

She put on a bright smile. “Fine. Can I go home? It’s been twelve hours.”

He frowned. “Not just yet. Let’s give it a few more hours. Symptoms usually develop within ten to fourteen hours though, so my gut says you probably did get a dry bite.”

Barry jerked, then opened his eyes. “Alanna?” He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

She sent a smile his way. “No worries, Barry. I’m feeling pretty good. I’m trying to talk the doctor into letting me go home.”

He swung his feet off the sofa. “She’s going to be okay?”

The doctor looked up from her file. “Looks like it to me. It’s rare for symptoms to start after this much time. If you’re still feeling good after breakfast, maybe we’ll let you go home. No excessive salivation, nausea, sweating?”

“Nothing like that. I actually feel very chipper.”

Dr. Miller lifted the sheet at the end of the bed and examined her foot. “Any tingling or numbness in that toe?”

“No.”

A smile spread across his face. “Excellent.” He tweaked her big toe. “What would you like for breakfast?”

She was suddenly starving. “I wouldn’t turn down a good fry,” she said. At his blank stare, she went on, “That’s rashers and eggs. Em, bacon and eggs. Or bangers—sausage. Mushrooms and tomatoes.”

“I think we can arrange that. I’ll check back midmorning.”

When the doctor left, Barry approached the bed and pressed his warm lips to hers. He pushed the hair away from her face with a tender hand. “I’m so relieved you’re feeling all right. I was so worried.”

She recalled that inner voice. “God told me I’d be okay.” Thankfulness welled in her soul, but she still couldn’t let go of the last trace of her bitterness toward God for taking Liam.

Barry’s smile faltered and he drew back. “That’s good. I should call my parents and let them know. They were so worried. I’ll have to leave the room to call. I can’t get a good signal in here. I’ll be right back.”

Somehow she didn’t believe Patricia would be anything but happy if Alanna suffered in the throes of snake venom. The thought of facing that woman again made her almost wish she could stay here another night. Almost.

When she was still feeling fine by ten, the doctor released her. Barry brought the car around, and she stepped out into the sunshine. Everything felt different this morning after the panic of the night before.

Driving home, the car rolled past Hibernian Hall. The white, Greek-style building glowed in the sunshine, and she remembered the triumphant concert Ceol had enjoyed here just hours before Liam’s death.

She peered through the window. Was that Jesse on the steps of the building? It was, she decided. He stood talking to a man by the front door. She wondered why he would be there.

“Cold?” Barry asked, leaning forward to flip the blower down.

“Thanks,” she said, not wanting to explain that she wasn’t cold. They were close to his mansion by the Battery. “Could we stay for a few days at your Bay Street house? It’s gotten so hot and humid.”

He frowned. “There’s so much to do out at the estate. I intend for it to be the most gloriously restored mansion in the Low Country. The contractor is coming to look at the kitchen today.”

“Can’t we stay in comfort while it’s being worked on?”

“I need you to oversee it, Alanna. I thought you liked it.”

“I do,” she said hastily. “But I’m pregnant, and the heat bothers me. The thought of taking on the project right now is more than I can handle. You’ll need to do it. You know what you want anyway.”

He pursed his lips and nodded.

“And I’m a little disconcerted by what’s happened. What if another snake gets in?”

“Keep your French doors closed and you’ll be fine.”

“It’s so hot though. I can’t bear the heat and humidity. Ireland has cooler, rainier weather.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “I might sell the house by the Battery. Blackwater Hall will be much more awe-inspiring when it’s finished.”

She could push the issue and insist on moving to the city, but was it worth it the battle? Barry was doing so much to help her, and she couldn’t seem to appreciate it.

She looked away from him, out across the Atlantic where storm clouds roiled. Her emotions were running high. She dreaded returning to the house in the shadow of the live oaks, though she kept telling herself it was just a house, nothing more or less. The churning in her gut had no basis in reality. She had nothing to fear.

Barry drove out of Charleston and turned onto a small country road. “A shortcut,” he explained.

The line of trees ended and she saw a settlement of trailers and fifth wheelers interspersed with homes that looked new. In the center stood a Catholic church. It was a ragtag community that roused a homesick sensation.

“Stop a minute,” she said. “What is this place?” But she knew. Oh yes, she recognized that assortment of dwellings, and she tasted something bitter on her tongue.

He pulled his car to the side of the road and stopped. “An Irish gypsy community.”