Page 22 of Searching for Bristol
Just when he was working himself into a small panic, imagining all sorts of things that could’ve gone wrong with the surgery, the door to the small waiting room opened.
“Mr. Watson?”
“That’s me.”
“Your fiancée’s surgery went extremely well.”
Rocky didn’t even feel bad about the deception. He knew the doctors wouldn’t talk to him if he didn’t have some sort of familial relationship with Bristol. And the fact that she didn’t even blink when he’d called her his fiancée made him feel just fine about the lie. He forced his attention back to the doctor.
“It was a simple break, and I was able to use just one pin to connect the bones back together again. She’s in recovery now, but shouldn’t need to spend any time in ICU. She’s in good shape and healthy. Would you like to see her before you head home?”
“I’m not going home until she is, and yes, I’d like to see her as soon as possible, please,” Rocky said.
“All right. As soon as she’s settled in a room, I’ll send someone to notify you. I’ll also arrange for a cot to be put in her room for you, as well.”
Rocky nodded at the man, and he turned to leave.
“Doc?”
“Yes?” he asked with one hand on the door.
“Thank you.”
The man shrugged. “It’s my job.” Then he was gone.
Rocky chuckled. He had the thought that was probably whathesounded like when people tried to thank him for finding them in the forest.
Relief swam through his veins. Bristol was all right. She’d heal up and be back on her feet in no time.
An hour later, a nurse poked her head into the waiting room and told him Bristol was settled. He followed her eagerly up to another floor and when they walked into the small hospital room, he only had eyes for the woman lying in the bed. Her hair was still dirty but it looked as if her skin had been cleaned a bit. She had an IV in her arm, her cheeks were pale, and he’d never been so happy to see someone.
She had stitches in her leg and a semi-rigid cast. In a week or so, the nurse explained, the stitches would be removed and she’d probably get a regular plaster cast.
He thanked the woman, who said she’d be in and out all night checking on Bristol, and he pulled a chair closer to the bed. He carefully picked up her hand and stroked it. “Hey,” he said quietly.
To his surprise, Bristol’s head turned his way. “Rocky?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“They didn’t cut it off, did they?”
“Your leg? No! Why would you think that?”
“Can’t feel it.”
Rocky chuckled. “It’s still there. The doctor said it was a clean break. One pin. You’ll be up and dancing in no time.”
“Can’t dance,” she mumbled. “Tired.”
“Sleep, Punky.”
Her hand tightened in his. “You won’t leave?”
Rocky’s heart leapt in his chest. “No. I’m staying in here with you tonight.”
“Bed’s kinda small to sleep with me.”
Rocky laughed again. “You’re no bigger than a bug. We’d fit. But they brought in a cot for me.”
