Until You Loved Me (Silver Springs #3)(43)

She bolted upright, startling both the nurse who was trying to get her blood pressure and the one who was tucking her feet more securely beneath the blankets. “My baby! Is my baby okay?” she asked, appealing to one and then the other.

The nurse who’d been taking her blood pressure, a young blonde by the name of Amber, according to the badge on her uniform, shushed her and righted the cuff so she could start over, while an older, heavyset brunette by the name of Judy came up on the other side and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. The baby should be fine. You’re scheduled for an ultrasound in a few minutes to confirm it. I wasn’t here when you were first admitted, but I was told the doctor located a heartbeat, no problem.”

Too weak and dizzy to remain upright without support, Ellie dropped back onto her pillow. If the baby had a heartbeat, he was alive.

She dragged in a gulp of air as that registered, calming her. “What made me so sick?” she asked. “What was wrong with me?”

Judy answered again, “A nasty flu, from what I understand.”

Amber, intent on watching the blood pressure monitor, added, “It was lucky Hudson brought you in. You were almost completely dehydrated. Dr. Evans, the emergency room physician, said it wouldn’t have been good if he’d waited any longer.”

What would she have done if Hudson hadn’t been there?

That was a scary thought, since she hadn’t been capable of driving herself and had probably been too out of it to call for an ambulance. He was the one who’d insisted they seek help. “When did I get here?”

“Early yesterday morning, around six,” Amber said.

“So it’s been...”

Judy checked her watch. “Twenty-nine hours or so.”

Twenty-nine hours. And she’d slept through all of them. As sick as she’d been, she was grateful she’d had a reprieve, but she felt disoriented as a result of losing so much time. Wasn’t she supposed to be at the BDC today? “What day is it?”

“Monday.”

“Does anyone at my work know I’m sick?”

“Hudson spoke with someone who kept calling your cell,” Judy said. “Someone named Linda? I got the impression she was from your work.”

“Did you say Hudson spoke with her?” Ellie clarified.

“Yeah. I heard him say you were in the hospital.”

“So he has my phone, or...”

Amber, finished with her blood pressure, recorded her readings and folded up the cuff. “Isn’t it right there, next to your purse?”

Ellie looked over at the bedside table. Sure enough. “I brought it with me?” She was struggling to fill in the gaps...

“Hudson went back for your purse and brought your phone, too,” Judy explained.

Amber interrupted to say she had to visit another room and hurried out.

“Admissions needed your insurance card and ID,” Judy explained when her fellow nurse was gone.

“Did they get it?” Ellie asked.

“I believe so. I remember Hudson going down to provide it.”

He’d dug through her purse? Or had she told him where to find those things?

She couldn’t remember. She’d been feeling so terrible, she supposed she should simply be grateful he’d handled everything. She was grateful, except it felt odd to have someone who was almost a stranger take over—and not just any stranger but Hudson King.

Because she wasn’t quite sure how to react to his involvement in such practical matters—something a boyfriend, husband or fiancé would’ve done, which was obviously how the nurses viewed him—she changed the subject. “What time is the ultrasound?”

“Three,” came the answer, but it wasn’t Judy who’d spoken. Hudson had heard the question as he breezed in.

Ellie could smell french fries in the bag he carried. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked at her in surprise. “What do you mean? I picked up lunch and now I’m back to eat.”

“He’s had hardly anything all day.”

Judy sounded defensive, but Ellie wasn’t upset that he’d left. She was shocked he’d come back. Why was he still in Miami? He had her number. They could talk over the phone once she was out of the hospital.

Or was he afraid she wouldn’t pick up? “You look like you’ve been out drinking all night,” she said.

Not only was he wearing the clothes he’d had on when she first found him in her house, an abundance of razor stubble covered the lower half of his face, and his hair stuck up on one side. She couldn’t say he looked like hell, because he didn’t. He couldn’t look like hell if he tried. Hence her problem. She didn’t want him to appear too human. That made it far too easy to forget they really had very little in common.

He tried to force his hair to lie down by raking his fingers through it—to no avail. “Well, excuse me. I guess I’ve been busy taking care of someone who’s sick as a dog. What do you think, I should’ve brought my luggage to the hospital so I could shower and shave after sleeping on that crappy chair?”

She heard Judy make a sound as if she was stifling a laugh, but when Hudson threw her an exasperated look, she cleared her throat. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she mumbled and scurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.