Johnny Winchester: River Hunter (5 page)

“What are you doing?”  Johnny was concerned. 
“Is everything okay...do you need something?”

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Are you sure?  I mean, you’re still very weak.”

Sighing, she responded.  “All the dirt, and this
dried blood, is going to drive me crazy.  If I take my time, it will be
all right.  The thought of being clean is absolutely wonderful right about
now.”  For the first time her smile was relaxed and he noticed a twinkle
in her deep blue eyes.  Something stirred in his heart; or maybe his stomach,
he wasn’t quite sure.

Slowly, declining any help, Suzi lifted herself from the
bed, shuffled to the closet where she extracted her pajamas, and went into the
bathroom, closing the door to within two inches of the door jamb, just in case
she needed to call for help.  He watched her all the way, ready to run to
her aid if necessary, glad she left the door open a bit.

The fall of steaming water over her head and shoulders
felt glorious, at least until it hit the various cuts and starting them
stinging.  Squeezing her eyes, she stood motionless until the sharp
burning passed, then went to the arduous task of washing with one hand. 
Her long, tangled hair was the most troublesome and, even doing her best, it
wasn’t as clean as she wanted, but at least most of the post-crash debris was
washed down the drain.  Once out of the tub, she had to brace herself,
using the towel bar, waiting for some dizziness to pass, and wondered if she’d
taken on too much.  No matter, she was committed now; she
dried
off and donned her PJ’s.

The entire time, Johnny paced between the couch and the
desk, worrying.  She seemed to be taking way too long, but he didn’t feel
he could just go charging in to check on her.  Eventually, the bathroom
door swung inward and Suzi emerged in white satin pajamas, splattered with
purple flowers, holding her left arm and the sling with her right hand. 
Dragging herself down the short hallway, her deep blue eyes were faded and were
pleading for help.  Johnny, resisting the urge to run to her side, strode
to meet her and offer his help.

“I can’t seem to untangle this thing,” she said,
irritated, referring to the sling.  “Could you please help me?”

“Of course.”  Taking the sling, he ordered all the straps,
put the neck band over her head, and gently worked the sling under her
arm.  “There.  Is that comfortable?”

“Yes.  Thank you.”  Sitting on the bed, she
tried to position the pillows at the headboard; Johnny arranged them for her
and then gently lifted her legs onto the bed. 

“OK?”

Sighing with fatigue, she nodded her head.

“Is there anything I can get you?  Anything you
need?  A cup of tea?”

“Tea sounds good.”

Going to the
Keurig
, he brewed
a cup of tea and brought it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the cup.  “Could you do
one more thing for me?”

“Certainly.  Name it.”

“Could you get me some chocolate?  They’re in the
upper left corner of my suit case.”

Hesitating, he wasn’t sure if she was serious or
not.  Then, going to the suitcase, he moved a shirt, a pair of jeans, and
located a bag of Reese’s miniature peanut butter cups, bound with a yellow
rubber-band.   Opening the bag as he walked back to the bed, he
asked, “How many do you want?”

“Two should be enough,” she said.  “Well, maybe
three.”

Laughing, he retrieved three foil-wrapped cups from the
bag.  “Should I just leave you the bag?”

“No.  I might eat them all and that probably
wouldn’t be good!”

Johnny handed her the chocolates.  “You carry
chocolate in your suitcase?”

“I never travel without it.”

He put the bag back where he’d found it, and then sat on
the extra bed across from her.  She was trying to open the foil wrap
one-handed and, though determined, she wasn’t having much luck.  Unable to
conceal his amusement, he extended his hand towards her.

“Could I help you with those?” he said, smiling.

His steely-blue eyes held hers, his dimples drilled deep
into his cheeks.  For a long moment they were held there by some
invisible, irresistible force, both wanting desperately to look away, neither
being able to.  The struggle faded Johnny’s smile, which allowed Suzi to
break away and move her eyes to his proffered hand.  Gingerly, she placed
the chocolate in his hand, using a thumb and forefinger, careful not to touch
him, afraid of…something.  On his part, Johnny withdrew his hand as soon
as the candy dropped into it, careful to not touch her, afraid of…something.

To the relief of both, the moment passed.  Johnny
unwrapped all three cups, and set them down on the bed table. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, rising, “I really must
check my email.  Will you be okay with your tea and chocolate?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sitting at the desk, Johnny opened his laptop, fired it
up, and went to his email account.  There was always a slew of emails to
deal with: questions to answer, pieces of information he would need, decisions
he had to make.  Forcing himself to focus, it was half an hour before he
glanced at Suzi again; she had laid down and was fast asleep.  With her
fibromyalgia medicine, her pain relievers, and a hot shower, she slept
peacefully, her face calm and pain-free.  It wasn’t however,
chocolate-free.  A bit from a peanut butter cup still sat on her lip, so
he rose and tenderly wiped it away with his thumb.  As he did so, a
frightening thought pierced his mind: this woman had changed his life and it
would never be the same again.

Shaking off the awful premonition, he straightened
abruptly and took up his pacing between the desk and the couch.  
Remembering that his clothes had arrived while Suzi was in the shower, he pawed
through them, extracting boxers, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt.  Then he
showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth.  Picking up his laptop, he
plopped onto the couch intending to get the rest of the way through his email and
get some sleep.

Before he even started, it suddenly hit him that he was
exhausted and he laid his head against the wall behind the couch.  The
adrenaline that had kept him going since the moment he’d first seen Suzi had
finally subsided with the assurance that she was, indeed, going to be all
right.  At least physically.  She’d not spoken about the crash in any
personal terms and, having survived a serious boating accident on the Amazon,
he knew there must be a point at which it would hit her like a freight
train.  He supposed people dealt with things in different ways and she was
perhaps busy dealing with the physical, and the emotional would have to wait.

Sighing, he powered down his laptop, intending to
stretch out on the short couch even though his feet would extend way out over
the arms.  But that extra, unused bed beckoned.  What would be the
harm in using it?  There was no good answer to the question, so he pulled
himself out of his jeans and slipped himself between the clean, crisp linens,
laying his head on the soft pillows.  He fell almost immediately to sleep.

The relief of sleep didn’t last long for Suzi.  A
generalized ache roused her and she thought it might be assuaged by changing
position, but the movement sent sharp pains through her left side and
shoulder.  Instantly, she was completely awake.  Craning her neck as
best she could without twisting her torso, she checked the clock to see if the
requisite four hours had passed since her last dose of pain meds.  To her
relief, it had been five, but she still had to get herself out of bed and find
the medication.  Lying still for a moment, working up the courage to face
the pain, she slowly pulled herself off the bed and, having learned the layout
of the room her first night there, made her way to the bathroom in the
dark. 

Turning on the bathroom light, letting her eyes adjust,
she looked around, spying her meds on the bed table.  Filling a glass with
water, she shuffled back to her bed, sat down on its edge, and, reading the
labels on the various bottles, picked out the codeine.  The child-proof
cap presented a problem and she was trying to hold the bottle between her teeth
while pushing-and-turning with her good hand, when Johnny began to stir. 
She froze, hoping to keep from waking him, but he was already up on one elbow,
looking at her.

“Are you okay?” he asked sleepily.

Quickly, she grabbed the bottle clutched in her
teeth.  “Yes, I just need some more pain medicine,” she said, hoping he
was too sleepy to have noticed.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole bottle,” he said,
seriously.  Then, putting out his hand, he continued, “Here, let me open
that for you.” 

Handing him the little plastic container that had
defeated her, she commented: “You know, they used to find teeth marks on
Nixon’s medicine bottles…and he had two perfectly all good hands.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re in good company?”

“Maybe that wasn’t the best example,” she returned with
a wry smile.

Sitting up, he opened the cap with a simple twist, and
meted out two tablets.  “You already got some water,” he commented. 
“You should have woken me, I would have fetched it.”

“I needed to move around a bit anyway,” Suzi answered
truthfully.  “In fact, I think I’ll just sit here for a bit.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

She considered him for a moment, wondering if he was
baiting her.  Deciding it didn’t matter, she replied, “I really shouldn’t
take these on an empty stomach.”

“How many this time?”

“Two would do, I think.”

Johnny shook his head slightly, got up, and fished two
peanut butter cups from the bag in her suit case.   Holding them out
to her, he asked, “Did they find teeth marks on his candy wrappers, too?”

An amused smile spread across her face, amusement that
animated her countenance and added a lively spark to her eyes.  This smile
had the same effect, though more intense, as the last one; either he was
falling for her, or he was going to be sick.  Either one was just as
disturbing.  Unwrapping the cups, he handed them to her, then retrieved his
laptop, sat on the bed with his back to the headboard, legs outstretched, and
laid the laptop on his lap.

“The never ending emails,” he commented.

“Any news from the NTSB?” she asked.

It was the first time she’d mentioned the NTSB at
all.  Looking at her, with her eyes averted to the floor, he answered,
“Nothing yet.  But don’t worry, I’ll be there.  You won’t be alone.”

She nodded, then stretched out on the bed, pulled the
bedspread over her, and closed her eyes.

Watching her for a moment, he sighed quietly, worried
that the emotional side of her trauma was emerging.  But the pain med
would soon send her back to sleep, and rest and time were the best things for
her at the moment.  Forcing himself to focus on his email, he got through
most of it, then powered down, put his laptop on the other side of the bed, and
laid down.  He didn’t fall asleep
so
quickly as
Suzi had.  His life was all mapped out and had been for years.  He
would travel to the ends of the earth, fishing, until he just dropped dead
somewhere.  It didn’t even matter if they brought his body back to
England, he’d be happy to rot where he lay, becoming part of the wilderness he
loved so dearly.  Some sort of silly Florence Nightingale thing must be in
play and as soon as he saw her home and on the mend, his emotions would subside
and he would go about his life as he had planned it.  This was
transient.  Besides, Suzi was a capable, independent woman who wasn’t
likely to fall for anyone, yet alone someone like him.  With that thought,
he was able to relax and fall asleep.

Suzi had laid down and closed her eyes, expecting the
narcotic to send her back to sleep, but she wasn’t that lucky.  As she
listened to Johnny tapping on the keys of his laptop, pausing, tapping, she
tried desperately to calm her mind.  Regardless of whatever press Johnny
may be trying to gain for himself, regardless of his motivation, this was a
nice man and she liked him.  He was attractive in a rugged sort of way,
intelligent, and kind.  Her life was all mapped out and had been for the
last decade.  After leaving behind an abusive husband, she had determined
never to allow herself to get in such a situation again; she’d raised her two
sons on her own and was now free to do what she wanted and, if all went well,
would soon retire and continue traveling.  If, of course, she could manage
to get herself on an airplane again.  It must be some stupid reverse
Florence Nightingale effect and once she was home, away from him, the emotions
would subside, and she’d go back to her plan.  Not to mention that, having
seen almost all the River Hunter episodes, she knew Johnny was dedicated to his
lifestyle and his head wasn’t likely to be turned for anyone, yet alone
her.  And she didn’t really want that, anyway.  She went to counting
sheep, something that sounded silly, but concentrating on numbers generally
slowed her mind and allowed her to sleep.  Seventy-five was the last
number she remembered.

Even though it was well past dawn when Johnny woke,
which was sleeping late for him, he was still awake before Suzi, so he quietly
got up, pulled on his jeans, and set up the
Keurig
for coffee.  Putting four miniature creamers in the cup, he stirred it,
then took it to the desk where he opened his laptop.  There was a new
email from Pete, so he clicked it open.  The NTSB inspector had arrived in
Anchorage and would probably want to talk to Suzi later in the day.  The
inspector would contact Johnny directly about making an appointment. 

Determined to get caught up with his emails, he clicked
open message after message.  Requests for updates on the current episode;
did this get done, did that get done; questions about locations for the next
episode; could he appear at this event, or speak at that one; replies to
inquiries he’d made about supplies and organizational issues; and on and
on.  It often amazed him that he was able to make a living, an excellent
living, doing what he loved, and even add some cultural, geographical, and
biological information for his viewers to boot.  But sometimes he missed the
simplicity of saving up his money, making some rudimentary plans, and just
going fishing.  He was just short of finishing with the messages when Suzi
stirred.