Anchored Inn by Karen MacInerney

Author:Karen MacInerney
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Gray Whale Press

11

When we got back to the inn, Adam was there, a fretful expression on his handsome face. He was wearing the thick sweatpants he favored for days out on the water, along with the red wool hat Gwen had knitted him for his birthday.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's Gwen," he said. "She can't hold anything down; I have to struggle to get water into her. I've got to go out and haul traps, but I didn't want to leave her alone."

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs sleeping," he said. "If she's not better, I may take her to the emergency room tonight."

"Has she been to a doctor yet?"

"She keeps saying she'll go, but she hasn't yet. I think the boat ride makes her more nauseous."

"She's going to have to get over that unless we can find someone who still makes house calls."

"I know someone, actually," Catherine said. "She retired a couple of months ago, but she might be willing to come take a look at her. Let me call her and see if she can make it over."

"I'm going to go check on Gwen now," I said.

"I'm coming up with you," Adam told me. "Maybe together we can talk some sense into her."

"I'll let you know what Barbara says," Catherine said as she pulled up the contacts on her phone.

Adam followed me up the stairs to the room that used to be Gwen’s. I knocked lightly.

"Come in," she answered in a scratchy, weak voice.

I stepped into the dark room; the curtains were drawn, and I could just make out her pale face against the darkness of her hair.

"You don't sound so good," I said.

"I'm okay," she said.

"No you're not," Adam corrected her. "You haven't eaten in three days, and you can barely hold down a teaspoon of water." He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for her wrist, feeling for her pulse. "Your heart rate's way up," he informed her. "You're dangerously dehydrated. We need to take you in."

"I'll drink something," she said. "I promise. Just... I can't handle the mail boat right now."

"Will you try broth?" I asked. "The salt might help."

"I'll try," she said.

"I'll go heat some up. Adam, if you need to go, I've got her."

"The traps can wait," he announced. "I'm going to make sure she keeps this broth down, or I'm taking her in the skiff this afternoon.”

"Adam..."

"Honey, I'm worried about you. The lobsters aren't going anywhere; they can wait."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said in a tender voice, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

I headed for the stairs, turning at the doorway; Adam was gently stroking the hair from Gwen’s forehead. She murmured something I couldn't make out as I closed the door behind me.

"Any luck?" I asked Catherine, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water.

"She's in Bangor today," she said, "but will make the trip tomorrow if we need her."

"Not ideal, but it's something," I said.

"How is she?"

"Dehydrated. Weak. I'm worried about her," I said as I pulled a container of broth from the freezer.

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