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by a four-in-hand. And the coach would have run over you too. That is why I say thank you, God, for saving my brother.”
    “Far?” Did that guttural voice really belong to him?
    “I’ve not told him yet.”
    Yet. His father and mother would have to be told. Perhaps he was better off dead. She said something else, but he was fading and not able to understand.
    “Mr. Aarvidson.” A male voice this time. An unknown male voice.
    “Mr. Aarvidson, this is Dr. Jorge. If you can hear me . . .”
    Nils raised a finger. When he tried to blink, it worked. Pain but not as severe.
    “You are at your home near the campus. It has been eighteen hours since your accident. You have two broken ribs and a nasty cut on the back of your head, leaving you with a concussion. Both injuries are extremely painful, but not life threatening, unless complications set in. So breathe gently and don’t try to talk right now.”
    Nils raised the finger to earn a Good from the doctor.
    “Miss Aarvidson has returned to your father’s house but will be back later this morning. I assured her that Nurse Daggen would see you through the night, and she has. She will clean you up some and make you presentable if your father and mother learn of this and come to see you.”
    A nurse. Eighteen hours. Surely someone would inform hisfather. After all, the accident happened on a major street in Oslo. Right in front of the tavern. Far would know his son had been drinking. Again. Not living up to his potential. Again. And here he dreamed of the mountains. He would be lucky not to be moved to his parents’ home, where they could watch over him. Stand guard would be more like it.
    “How bad?” Two words. Progress.
    “You’ll be in bed for a day or two. The pain and dizziness will keep you there. As that passes, you will want to move around. I recommend staying in for two weeks. You will find reading impossible. Concussions are like that. I stitched up the scalp wound. That will heal quickly.”
    If it does not get infected. Nils supplied the addendum.
    “I have taped your chest to make you a bit more comfortable. Ribs take time to heal, but you can move around as much as you can tolerate the pain. Coughing is hard, but you need to cough or pneumonia could set in. That is our biggest fear, so the sooner you can sit up and stand the better.”
    Pneumonia. Infection. Not exactly inspiring thoughts.
    “Takk.”
    “You are welcome.” The doctor listened to his lungs and patted his hand. “The nurse says your sister is here. I will speak with her and leave you. I believe Nurse Daggen should stay with you for at least a few days and nights. If you have questions, I will return tomorrow morning.”
    Nils listened as the doctor crossed the room and exited at the door. Footsteps of doom or footsteps of hope? He drifted away again while waiting for Amalia to come. The land of darkness was much easier than the pain of being awake.
    Sometime later, or was it only the blink of an eye . . . His eyes did that of their own accord. Blinked open. Dim lightthrough the drapes, separated just enough to . . . to . . . He blinked again and the ceiling came into focus.
    “You are awake,” Amalia said.
    He started to nod, thought the better of it, and blinked twice.
    “Good. Nurse Daggen is bringing some chicken broth. You know that is Mother’s panacea for everything.”
    “Mor?”
    “Yes, I had to tell them. They’ve been here for the last two hours.”
    Waiting. His father did not wait well. He heard the door open and flinched, but the footsteps were not the strides of his father.
    “Here you go, young man. Your sister insists on feeding you, so I will put another pillow under your head. That will hurt, but the pain shouldn’t be as severe as yesterday. I’ll be quick.”
    Either she was a liar or she’d never been in his situation. Gritting his teeth did not help. Screaming might have, but only a slight groan acknowledged her actions. He was now halfway