Free The Captain's Lady by Lorhainne Eckhart Page A

paused to drop the file in the top drawer then lock it with his keys. Putting the keys in his pants pocket, he headed off to bed, making a mental note to speak with Abby first thing in the morning.
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    Chapter Ten
    Abby awoke the next morning feeling groggy and disoriented. A familiar panic tightened her chest while she gasped a shaky breath. Desperate, she tried to still her pounding heart with long, deep breathing, but it was no use. Blinking rapidly, seeing only the mottled gray pipe of the bulkheads above, she fought to remember where she was.
    Oh yes, on a US Navy ship. Releasing a sigh of relief, she ran clammy fingers through her sleep tussled hair, then brushed the loose strands back from her damp forehead. She stretched slow and cautious, remaining mindful of the ache in her still-tender ribs.
    She winced; the baby must be sitting right on her bladder, prompting a sudden urgency to pee. Not thinking, she tried to sit up a little too quickly. The movement brought a sharp pain streaming from her ribs, stealing her precious breath. She let out a sharp cry, and froze in mid-motion. Abby counted the seconds until the pain receded. The baby chose that moment to remind her that it was still there. A pressure from its foot brought a return of the familiar ache in her lower back. She pressed the fingertips of both hands into a fierce pinch, kneading in small circles to release the mounting pressure.
    Abby inhaled. She changed positions with awkward care. Then she eased both legs over the side of the bed, and wished the bathroom wasn't quite so far away. She groped for the crutch leaning against the bedstead, smiling at the memory of how the doctor had begrudgingly left it when she refused to use a bedpan, including threatening to crawl to the bathroom on her hands and knees if necessary. His ensuing comment about her stubborn streak occurred when he realized she would in fact, follow through on the threat.
    A short lesson on the proper use of a crutch. This was his parting ultimatum: either she agreed to practice before he left, or there would be no crutch. It only took a few minutes to catch on. Although hesitant, her few steps were enough to satisfy him. Before leaving, he'd issued a final warning not to get out of bed for any other reason but to use the bathroom, or the crutch would disappear.
    Slowly rising, grasping the crutch for support, she could not help but notice a short, boyish-looking woman wearing khakis standing with a clipboard across the room. She was making notes while going through the medical supplies in the usually-locked steel cabinet.
    When Abby began to shuffle across the floor, the woman put the clipboard down, and hurried over to grasp Abby's upper arm while helping to position the crutch in her armpit. Her nametag read Corpsman Gail Carruthers.
    "How did you sleep?” she asked Abby in a tone flat and devoid of emotion. There was a cool distance residing within those narrow eyes. Looking away, she appeared uninterested in Abby's response. So why did she ask the question? Abby sensed a solid barrier erected, as if somehow the woman was distancing herself. But why?
    She suppressed a shudder from the cool discomfort of the air around her. Abby pasted a chaste smile on her face and continued on to the bathroom. “Actually, I slept great. I don't even remember dreaming."
    "By the way, my name is Gail. Do you need some help or can you manage by yourself?"
    "Thanks, but I can manage myself. I actually find hobbling with this crutch much easier now.” Abby stopped in the doorway and threw a brief glance at Gail, surprised by the cool disinterest and the evident priority of writing on the clipboard. Frowning, she closed the door and rested her hand against the metal panel. There was something troubling about Gail that penetrated her to the core. The woman was definitely in the wrong occupation. Weren't nurses supposed to be caring people?
    Sighing, she caught a glimpse in the