Mean Streak(46)

“No. She’s suffering now because not all the uterine material was discharged naturally when she miscarried. She didn’t receive treatment, or the medications, or a D and C. Her body is trying to expel a sixteen-week fetus on its own, and the contractions are so strong, it’s essentially like being in labor.”

“Christ.” He looked aside before coming back to her. “You’re sure there’s no longer a baby?”

She was touched by his apparent concern. “I’m sure. She had profuse bleeding, today as well as two weeks ago. And the size of her uterus isn’t nearly as large as it would be if she was almost halfway into a pregnancy.” She looked over toward the bed. Lisa had stopped crying, but she’d laid her arm across her forehead. “She says she’s glad it died.”

“How long has this been going on?”

Emory came back around to him. “Today’s bleeding? It woke her up this morning and became so significant, as did the cramping, she was forced to tell her aunt and uncle.”

“Kindness personified, from what I understand.”

“She told you they kicked her out?”

He nodded.

“Leaving her no choice but to call her two cretin brothers and ask them to come get her.”

“How long will it take to, uh, get it out?”

“I don’t know. I could use the instruments I brought to scrape the uterus, but I’m reluctant to. First, because that’s not my area of expertise. Secondly, these are less than sterile conditions. The threat of infection would be too great.”

He mulled it over for several moments, then said, “Okay. Bundle her up. We’re taking her to the hospital.”

“Wait.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I also have the emotional stability of my patient to consider. She insists that no one else learn about the baby. When I suggested that you and I drive her and her mother to the nearest medical facility, she threatened to kill herself.”

“She was hysterical.”

“She was perfectly rational. How willing are you to take a chance on her meaning it?”

He swore under his breath and then released a long breath. “What do you suggest, Doc?”

She looked at her wristwatch. “I suggest we let nature take its course. It’s almost two o’clock. The road will present fewer hazards in daylight. Let’s reassess at dawn. Maybe between now and then, I can calm her down enough to accept the situation and talk her into telling her mother what’s actually going on.”

He inched closer and lowered his voice, so there was no chance of Lisa’s overhearing. “Come on, Doc, don’t you think Pauline knows? She’s coarse and uncultured, but she’s not stupid.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I’m almost certain she knows. And more than likely Lisa knows that she knows. But denial is the only way she can cope right now.”

He looked over at the bed, his forehead creased with worry. “She’s not in danger of dying, is she?”

“Believe me, if I thought it was an emergency situation, I’d bundle her up and drive the truck myself. But it hasn’t reached that level. Her blood pressure is a little high, but her distress is probably the explanation for that. Her bleeding is what is to be expected. I’m monitoring her temperature. It’s normal.”

To further assuage his worry, she said, “She’s frightened and uncomfortable, but her body is responding as it should. Women in third world countries endure this without medications or clinical procedures, and they survive.”

He looked around the bedroom. “This qualifies as third world.”

“As a precaution, I’m giving her antibiotics.”

He tilted his head toward the bed. “Mind if I talk to her?”

“No. You’re a hero in her eyes. She said you were about as nice a person as anybody she’s ever met.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“That’s what I said.” She smiled to let him know that she was teasing. “Go on. I’ll give you two a moment.”

“Don’t open that door.”

She looked at it and shuddered. “I have no intention to.”

He went to the side of the bed and knelt beside it on one knee, bringing him eye level with Lisa. Emory couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Lisa was listening with rapt attention.

Weariness claimed Emory and, despite the shabby condition of the wall, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. Her head was aching, but she attributed the dull pain to fatigue more than to her concussion. The space between her shoulder blades burned with tension. Considering the events of this night, was it any wonder?

Not too long ago, within a span of time that could be measured in hours rather than days, she’d thought that waking up in a stranger’s bed, not knowing where she was or how’d she got there, was the most bizarre thing that could ever happen to her. How wrong she’d been.

“How are you?”

Roused by the familiar scratchiness of his whisper, she opened her eyes and was momentarily disoriented. “Gosh, I must have dozed off standing up. I haven’t done that since med school.”

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“Crime takes a toll.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Felony for the sake of a patient. There’s a first for everything.” Then she added, “I better understand the gray area of your morality now.”