Lover of My Dreams (21 page)

For some reason, the walk across the campground seemed incredibly long. Site twenty-seven had never felt so far away before. Luckily the walk in the coolness of the day served to calm him, and the hardness of his cock eased somewhat. When he arrived at her tent, his curiosity turned to concern. The tent was still zipped closed and there was no sign of any activity around her site. It was obvious that she had not cooked breakfast or lunch.

“Rachel, are you in there?” he called to her through the closed canvas opening of the tent. When there was no answer he called her name again, this time louder. When there was still no answer, he reached down and unzipped the tent’s two flaps. It was time to take matters into his own hands.

He entered the tent and stopped a moment to allow his eyes to become accustomed to the semi-darkness. When he saw her, he gasped in shock. Rachel was huddled under the covers of her blankets and sleeping bag and was shivering violently. He was unable to move for a few precious seconds before instinct finally took over. He had to take care of her, regardless of what she would have to say to him when she was better. He reached her cot in three long strides and knelt down beside her. Reaching up, he gently touched her face and was astounded by the heat that was emanating from her.

“Rachel,” he called to her urgently. When she didn’t respond he took firm hold of her shoulders and shook her, repeating her name as he did so.

Rachel’s mind forced her to surface to reality. The sound of a man’s voice hurt her head. She turned over in anger and pushed at the hands that were shaking her body.

“Leave me alone. I don’t feel good,” she mumbled groggily before submerging back into the depths of blackness.

She knew nothing else for the next few minutes and drifted between a state of semiconsciousness and total oblivion. She was aware only of strong arms embracing her body and lifting her. Her head fell against the body that was holding her, and she felt content to rest there while darkness claimed her once again.

She became aware of the softness of a bed and the warmth of blankets covering her. She snuggled into the pillow that was gently placed beneath her head.

“The pillow smells good. It smells like Sam,” she whispered, her mind a little muddled as she tried to make sense of everything. Giving up, she snuggled deeper under the covers to try to get warm.

Sam smiled at her comment then reached forward to lift the blankets off her feet. He removed her sneakers and set them on the bench seat below the bed, and carefully removed the sock from her injured foot. He examined her ankle and saw that it was still swollen but reasoned that it was probably not the cause of her fever. He replaced the sock and covered her feet, tucking in the blankets to make sure that she would stay warm. He lowered the blankets that covered her right arm and reached under her sweatshirt to carefully remove her arm from its sleeve.

Her skin felt so hot to his touch. Her fever had to be pretty high. He was very concerned that it might be at a dangerous level. If he couldn’t get the fever down, he would have to drive her to the hospital. He pushed the sweatshirt up to her neck and gently peeled the gauze bandage from her arm. The cut looked to be healing nicely and showed no signs of infection.

He turned and quickly retrieved a sterile gauze from his medical bag that was in the cabinet beneath the sink. Quickly covering Rachel’s exposed cut and taping it down carefully, he gently eased her arm back into the sleeve, pulled the sweatshirt down to cover her completely, and replaced the blankets over her body.

He straightened and looked down at her, forcing himself to think. All his years of medical study seemed to be deserting him. He rubbed his right temple tiredly and concentrated. Finally, his knowledge and training kicked in. To his relief, the doctor was back.

He turned to place his medical bag next to Rachel. He opened it up and searched through it quickly. Removing his stethoscope, he placed the eartips in his ears, then gently removed her left arm from her sweatshirt and wrapped the blood pressure cuff tightly around the upper portion of her arm.

She moaned slightly at the pressure and tried to push him away, but she was too weak to make any real protest. He continued his vital signs evaluation, taking her pulse and listening to her heart and lungs. Satisfied that everything was normal, he removed the cuff and placed it, along with his stethoscope, in his bag.

He sat down next to her on the bed and reached forward to slip her arm into the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She felt as if she were on fire and he knew that he had to get her fever down. Reaching into the medical bag, he took out a small bottle of pills. He opened it and dumped two into his hand then put down the container and reached for a spoon. He placed the tablets on the spoon, poured a little water over them to dissolve them then sprinkled sugar over them and mixed up the concoction with his finger. He carefully placed the spoon on the counter and turned to get the small plastic container of orange juice out of the refrigerator. Pouring some into a mug, he set it aside and retrieved the spoon with the medicine.

He turned to Rachel and found that his heart was pounding against his chest as he reached forward and lifted her into his arms. Her head rolled against him and nestled into his neck. One of her love scenes suddenly flashed through his mind and he had to push it away as his body tightened once again.

“Steady, man,” he said to himself as he lowered his shoulder so that her head would roll back to allow her to face the top of the camper.

“Sam?” she whispered, confused.

“Rachel, swallow this,” he told her sternly, lifting the spoon to her lips and pushing it inside her mouth.

Rachel felt something in her mouth and tasted a bitter sweetness. She swallowed instinctively as the semiliquid dripped down her throat. She licked her lips to get the taste off them and found a glass at her mouth and more liquid entering her throat. She swallowed greedily. She had been so thirsty.

Then the cup was gone and she felt herself being lowered back into the softness and warmth of the bed. She turned toward the voice of the man that spoke to her and the strong arms that had held her.

“Thank you,” she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome,” Sam answered, smiling at her manners. He turned and wet a cloth with cold water then sat beside her on the bed.

She didn’t speak or move while he passed the cool cloth across her forehead. His teeth clenched in anger as he saw the discoloration of the bruises on her cheeks. Why hadn’t he noticed them before? He cooled her face then wiped her arms and stomach, his hand freezing in horror as he saw the bite marks that her bra barely covered.

“Damn it!” he swore out loud.

He couldn’t stand the fact that she had been violated and saw for himself that she had been tortured throughout the attack. He closed his eyes to steady himself then opened them and continued to wipe down her body with the cloth. He hesitated slightly when he saw the gold chain that had fallen to her shoulder and realized that it was the necklace that his mother had given to her. He held the blue crystal in his hand gently before tenderly resting it against Rachel’s body. He was touched by the fact that she still wore the necklace.

He forced himself back to the task of cooling Rachel’s body. He rewet the cloth often. The heat from her body quickly warmed the cloth and made it too hot to be soothing. When he finished wiping down her back with the cool cloth, he put it aside and covered her carefully. All he could do now was wait and hope that the medicine would help lower her fever until the sickness ran its course. If she was no better in the morning he would drive her to the hospital.

He stood and watched her silently for a while. She looked so pale and vulnerable. He didn’t like seeing her this way. He liked it better when she was telling him off or threatening to hit him. He smiled at the memory then became very serious as he pictured the way she had appeared to him in his dream.

His gaze went to the mound of blankets that covered her stomach, and he found that it was difficult to breathe because of the tightness in his chest. The feeling intensified as he thought about the incredible possibility that he might actually be destined to share his life with this woman. He experienced a feeling of rightness at that thought.

He knew that Rachel was a woman that he could trust. He knew that she was someone who would give her love to him without reservation. He thought about her kindness and her gentleness and knew that she would be a giving lover. He was honest with himself as he admitted that he wanted to make sweet, gentle love to her and make the dream of her carrying his child a reality. He wanted his child growing inside of her. He wanted to feel their baby moving, be there to help in the birth of their baby, and watch their baby nurse at Rachel’s beautiful breasts.

His breath came short and quick as his body once again betrayed him. He lost patience with himself. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t been so out of control and in a constant state of arousal since he had been a teenager. He had to get himself under control. Standing slowly, he reached out and touched Rachel’s cheek with the back of his index finger, smiling as she turned toward his touch and sighed. Bending down, he kissed her forehead lightly before resting his cheek against her temple.

“I’ll be right back, honey,” he whispered, easing back and looking down at her. As sick as she was, and as pale as she was, she was absolutely beautiful. Placing the cool cloth across her forehead, he smoothed it carefully, running his fingers across her temples before pulling away.

He left the camper and walked to site twenty-seven determinedly. The walk across the campground and the cleaning up of the area served to help calm him. He was glad for the distraction. It didn’t take him long to circle the campground once to check all the other sites, and he found his step quickening as he came back to his camper. He didn’t realize the fast pace he must have been traveling until he stepped up into the camper and found that he was out of breath.

His eyes sought out Rachel’s form in his bed and smiled when he realized that he had actually thought that she might be gone when he returned. He reached out and touched her face gently, feeling the heat of the fever that still consumed her. Concern for her filled him. He drew his hand away and stood beside her silently for a moment as he watched her sleep. Removing the already hot cloth from her forehead, he wet it with cool water, squeezed out the excess, and placed it gently across her eyes. It would be a comfort that he would repeat often over the next few hours and well into the night.

“Please fight to get better, Rachel,” he whispered to her. “I’m here with you. I won’t leave.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly. “Please, honey. I need you to fight this sickness.”

Turning finally, he sat down at the table, picked up the novel that Roy had brought him, and opened it to the place where he had left off. He began to read. Roy had said that he would get to know Rachel if he read her books. He suddenly wanted to get to know the woman she had become very much.

* * * *

The afternoon passed quickly. Sam read the novel continuously, stopping only to administer another dose of medicine and doing his best to get Rachel to drink as much water and juice as he could. He wiped her body with a cool, wet cloth, talking to her in a soothing tone to remind her that he was there with her. Each moment he spent with her made him understand the depths of his feelings for her. It was more than friendship. Maybe it had always been.

Her book had given him insights into her character that he hadn’t seen develop because of the years of separation. The book was a loving, gentle, and romantic love story with comfortable humor, and he knew that only an exceptionally kind and caring person could ever write such a story with such incredible intensity and understanding. Rachel had always been a great kid. It was obvious to Sam that she had become an outstanding woman.

He also found himself becoming unexplainably jealous over the erotic love scenes. He wondered who she had shared such intimate and tender memories with to be able to write such detailed accountings. He wasn’t at all happy with the fact that she had shared such experiences with any other man.

Time held no measure for Rachel. She only knew fragments of the day. She tasted bitter sweetness and felt coolness being wiped across her body. She knew strong arms held her gently and touched her often, but was blissfully unaware of all else. She was content to just rest and give in to the quiet blackness that surrounded her every time she closed her eyes.

For dinner, Sam heated up some soup and carefully spooned the broth into Rachel’s mouth. It took a while, but he was able to get her to eat about half of the contents of the bowl. He wiped her face and settled her back against the blankets then turned and left the camper to check the campground one last time for the night.

He couldn’t walk the campground fast enough. He wanted to be back with Rachel in case she woke up and needed something, or her condition worsened. When he stepped back up into his camper, he froze in surprise. Rachel was sitting up and staring at him.

“What’re you doing in my tent?” she asked him weakly, looking at him through fever-glazed eyes.

He walked to her quickly and reached out to ease her back down onto the bed. She looked straight up at him, and he found that he was overwhelmed with emotions.

“You’re sick, Rachel,” he told her finally. “I brought you to my camper so I could take care of you until you’re feeling better.”