Dead Until Dark (Sookie Stackhouse #1)(91)

“Mr. Compton still out of town?” he asked me, after I’d finished.

“New Orleans,” I whispered, barely able to speak.

“We’ll look in Rene’s house for the rifle, now that we know it’s yours. It’ll be a nice piece of corroborative evidence.”

Then a gleaming young woman in white came into the room, looked at my face, and told Andy he’d have to come back some other time.

He nodded at me, gave me an awkward pat on the hand, and left. He gave the doctor a backward glance of admiration. She was sure worth admiring, but she was also wearing a wedding ring, so Andy was once again too late.

She thought he seemed too serious and grim.

I didn’t want to hear this.

But I didn’t have enough energy to keep everyone out of my head.

“Miss Stackhouse, how are you feeling?” the young woman asked a little too loudly. She was brunette and lean, with wide brown eyes and a full mouth.

“Like hell,” I whispered.

“I can imagine,” she said, nodding repeatedly while looking me over. I somehow didn’t think she could. I was willing to bet she’d never been beaten up by a multiple murderer in a graveyard.

“You just lost your grandmother, too, didn’t you?” she asked sympathetically. I nodded, just a fraction of an inch.

“My husband died about six months ago,” she said. “I know about grief. It’s tough being brave, isn’t it?”

Well, well, well. I let my expression ask a question.

“He had cancer,” she explained. I tried to look my condolences without moving anything, which was nearly impossible.

“Well,” she said, standing upright, returning to her brisk manner, “Miss Stackhouse, you’re sure gonna live. You have a broken collarbone, and two broken ribs, and a broken nose.”

Shepherd of Judea! No wonder I felt bad.

“Your face and neck are severely bruised. Of course, you could tell your throat was hurt.”

I was trying to imagine what I looked like. Good thing I didn’t have a mirror handy.

“And you have lots of relatively minor bruises and cuts on your legs and arms.” She smiled. “Your stomach is fine, and your feet!”

Hohoho. Very funny.

“I have prescribed pain medication for you, so when you start feeling bad, just ring for the nurse.”

A visitor stuck his head in the door behind her. She turned, blocking my view, and said, “Hello?”

“This Sookie’s room?”

“Yes, I was just finishing her examination. You can come in.” The doctor (whose name was Sonntag, by her nameplate) looked questioningly at me to get my permission, and I managed a tiny “Sure.”

JB du Rone drifted to my bedside, looking as lovely as the cover model on a romance novel. His tawny hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights, his eyes were just the same color, and his sleeveless shirt showed muscle definition that might have been chiseled with a—well, with a chisel. He was looking down at me, and Dr. Sonntag was drinking him in.

“Hey, Sookie, you feelin’ all right?” he asked. He lay a finger gently on my cheek. He kissed an unbruised spot on my forehead.

“Thanks,” I whispered. “I’ll be okay. Meet my doctor.”

JB turned his wide eyes on Dr. Sonntag, who practically tripped over her own feet to introduce herself.

“Doctors weren’t this pretty when I was getting my shots,” JB said sincerely and simply.

“You haven’t been to a doctor since you were a kid?” Dr. Sonntag said, amazed.

“I never get sick.” He beamed at her. “Strong as an ox.”

And the brain of one. But Dr. Sonntag probably had smarts enough for two.

She couldn’t think of any reason for lingering, though she cast a wistful glance over her shoulder as she left.

JB bent down to me and said earnestly, “Can I bring you anything, Sookie? Nabs or something?”

The thought of trying to eat crackers made tears come to my eyes. “No thanks,” I breathed. “The doctor’s a widow.”

You could change subjects on JB without him wondering why.

“Wow,” he said, impressed. “She’s smart and single.”

I wiggled my eyebrows in a significant way.

“You think I oughtta ask her out?” JB looked as thoughtful as it was possible for him to be. “That might be a good idea.” He smiled down at me. “Long as you won’t date me, Sookie. You’re always number one to me. You just crook your little finger, and I’ll come running.”

What a sweet guy. I didn’t believe in his devotion for a minute, but I did believe he knew how to make a woman feel good, even if she was as sure as I was that I looked breathtakingly bad. I felt pretty bad, too. Where were those pain pills? I tried to smile at JB.

“You’re hurting,” he said. “I’ll send the nurse down here.”

Oh, good. The reach to the little button had seemed longer and longer as I tried to get my arm to move.

He kissed me again as he left and said, “I’ll go track that doctor of yours down, Sookie. I better ask her some more questions about your recovery.”

After the nurse injected some stuff into my IV drip, I was just looking forward to feeling no pain when the door opened again.