Read Online Her Last Letter by Nancy C. Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

message explaining everything and telling him to drop by the hospital on his way home, or if that wasn’t possible, I’d see him later. I stopped to use the restroom, and when I returned to the front desk, Wolfgang was gone.
    The nurse motioned me over. “Mrs. Lehman is in a room now if you’d like to make a short visit.”
    “Yes, I would.”
    She gave me the room number and directions.
    Linda and Wolfgang were talking softly as I entered the private room. Wolfgang was seated close to the head of the bed, his hand gently stroking Linda’s hair. Though still sickly looking, Linda seemed happier.
    “Hi, pumpkin,” I said. “I stopped to use the restroom or I would have been here sooner. Of course, they only announce anything when you’re not available. How are you feeling?” I pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the bed from Wolfgang.
    “Better now. Tired though.”
    Wolfgang looked over to me. “We have to keep it short. The doc just stuck his head in and doesn’t want her getting too tired. I told him you were on your way.”
    “What did he say? Is she okay? Did they find anything internal?”
    “No, she’s fine. Concussion and bruises, some scrapes. They’ll probably let her out tomorrow. She’s tough.” He patted her arm.
    Linda smiled weakly at Wolfgang, then turned to me. “It was so stupid. I was moving some boxes and I tripped. I dropped the box, but missed the handrail. It happened so fast.”
    “You have to be more careful,” I said.
    “Oh, I know. I don’t want to come here again. Gwyn, could you call the club, let them know I won’t make my tennis lesson?”
    “Of course.”
    She sighed. “I’ll have to ask the doctor when I can play again, and Thanksgiving’s coming up.”
    “Don’t worry about all that,” I said. “Just get well.”
    A few minutes later a nurse appeared in the doorway and shooed us out.
    Wolfgang hurried alongside me down the hall. “She’s out of it,” he said. “But she’ll be okay.”
    “Yeah.”
    It was already dark outside the double doors of the hospital. A raw icy wind had kicked up its heels, and I stopped to button my jacket before heading out. Wolfgang waited for me, then walked with me across the parking lot to our cars. I called Trevor again, but no answer, so I left another message, told him I was leaving the hospital and not to come by.
    Trevor’s Cadillac was parked in the driveway when I pulled in. I walked inside, noticing a fire in the fireplace as I hung up my coat. A clinking of plates and silverware came from the kitchen. “Trevor?”
    “In here, my tired girl.”
    He smiled as I stepped into the kitchen.
    “You’re cooking?” I asked.
    He finished placing silverware on the table, then came over and hugged me. “I felt bad about not making it over to the hospital. So I thought you might like dinner-a-la-Trevor as an apology.”
    “That’s so sweet.”
    “How’s your sister doing? Okay?”
    “She’s hurting, but she’ll be okay. I didn’t really expect you to make it to the hospital. I knew you’d come if you could.” I squeezed him closer still. “What a day. How was yours?”
    “All right, except for your news. I was in a meeting when I got your message. I wanted to call back, but I had to play happy, I-have-no-other-life, Realtor. You know how it is.”
    “Mm-hmm.” I sniffed the air. “So what did Chef Trevor prepare for dinner tonight?”
    “Well, I had big plans in the beginning, thought maybe I’d try something gourmet. I actually looked through a couple of your cookbooks for ideas. But that scared me off, so instead we’re having broiled chicken with a really awesome barbecue sauce, plus a baked potato and a salad. I still have to make the salad. You got here sooner than I thought you would.”
    “I’ll help you.”
    “No. No you won’t. I’m looking for hefty paybacks in the form of sizzling female flesh. Whoa, hang on a minute. Need to add a log to that fire, I think. Don’t want it to die