Chapter Ten

Mom, Joan, and I waited at the hospital until Martin was out of surgery, and I was able to see him again for a few minutes—though he was pretty much out of it the whole time. He kept telling me he loved me and how beautiful I was, which made me smile; he normally wasn't someone who expressed such feelings, unless we were alone in intimate moments. He certainly never said them when there were other people around, like the nurse that came in and out of his room. She thought it was sweet, and kept saying, "aww, bless him" with her hand on her heart.

I probably would have stayed at the hospital with him that night if Mom wasn't still in town, but I knew my time with her was really short. I kissed Martin goodbye and promised to be back as soon as I rescheduled the day's appointments.

"Kiss me again before you go," he told me groggily, and I laughed. "It will be a long night without you." I loved my quiet, stoic Martin, but this new effusive Martin was kinda nice too. I kissed him sweetly and stroked the top of his head.

Before we left the hospital, I went to check on Mark and make sure he was on the mend. "I'm doing just fine, thanks to the Doc," he told me. "How is he?"

"He's going to be okay; he had a small surgery, but he should be up and around in a few days. I'm glad he made it to you in time," I said. Mark smiled a bit shyly.

"Yes, it could have been a bad situation indeed. You tell Doc Martin I said to get well soon," he said. "And I'm sure we'll see each other around the village now and again."

It was late when we got back to the farm, and I was exhausted. "You're not going anywhere tonight, young lady," Joan told me firmly. "You are going to spend the night here with us…there's plenty of room for you." I hugged her gratefully; the thought of going back to my house alone certainly didn't appeal to me. Luckily, the room Mom was staying in had an extra bed, and Joan made it up nice and comfy for me. I was so tired. It seemed like our dress shopping trip had been weeks ago instead of just the day before.

"Are you worried about Martin, sweetheart?" Mom asked me after we had gone to bed. I snuggled down under the covers and yawned before answering, "Maybe a little bit, but the injury didn't look too serious. The hard part is going to be getting him to take it easy for the next few days. Knowing him, he will expect to be working a full schedule again as soon as he is released from the hospital."

"I know you will take good care of him. I love seeing the two of you together, Anna…your personalities really seem to complement each other. But if he has a stubborn streak, it is no match for yours, I can guarantee," Mom laughed.

The next morning after breakfast, I said a tearful goodbye to Mom before Joan took her to the train station. I hated that she lived so far away from me, but it was some comfort to know she would be back in a few months for my wedding. After they had gone, I drove back to Portwenn to the surgery and begin to reschedule appointments. Word had already gotten out around the village that Martin was in the hospital, so I had to field quite a few phone calls from people just curious about what had happened and whether or not he was all right.

"I heard the Doc got bitten by a snake!" said Mr. McKinnon.

"No, that was PC Mylow…but he's okay now too," I corrected him.

"Well then what happened to the Doc?" I proceeded to tell the abbreviated story yet again, which seemed to satisfy Mr. McKinnon's curiosity. In about five minutes, there was another call.

"I heard the Doc got shot by Stewart!" Mrs. Andrews exclaimed. I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

"No, Mrs. Andrews…no one was shot, thank god…" And on and on it went.

I had just gotten off the phone with Chris Parsons to arrange a locum for the next few days when Mrs. Tishell burst through the front door, despite the note I had left on it saying there would be no surgery hours that day.

"Hello, Mrs. Tishell…we're not open today, I'm afraid…" I began.

"Anna! I heard the news about the doctor and I just had to come by and make sure he was all right!" she exclaimed, nearly in tears. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and smiled at her stiffly.

"He's going to be fine. Just had a small accident, minor surgery, but he will be back home very soon," I told her. She visibly relaxed and held the large box she had been holding out to me.

"Oh that is good news," she gushed. "I baked this cake for him…I know he doesn't usually eat cake, but maybe he will make an exception just this once…"

"That's very nice of you, Mrs. Tishell. I will be sure to let him know you brought it," I said. "Now, I hate to rush you, but I need to be going to the hospital to see him." I was trying surreptitiously to corral her toward the front door.

"I'd be happy to ride over there with you, if you wanted some company," she hinted, none too subtly. I shook my head.

"No, thank you," I told her firmly.

"Please do give him my love, won't you?" she emphasized the word "love" for just a bit longer than was appropriate, but I ignored it.

"I certainly will. Thank you again, Mrs. Tishell." Thank goodness…she was out the front door and on her way down the steps. I closed the door and took a deep breath. "Give him my love" indeed, I smirked. Not bloody likely.

When I finally made it to the hospital, Martin was sitting up in bed, scowling harder than I had ever seen him scowl. When he saw me, though, his eyes softened a little. "Hello," he said quietly. I rushed to him and kissed him hard…even though it had only been one night, I had missed him terribly.

"Hello, my love," I answered, beaming at him. "How are you feeling today?"

"I want to go home," he groused.

"I know you do, but that wasn't my question."

"A bit sore, but I'm all right. Better, now that you're here." He squeezed my hand. "How are you feeling?"

I blinked. "Me? I'm great…no nausea today so far, I think maybe we are over the hump. I can barely button my jeans, though." I raised the hem of my tee shirt to show him. He looked irritatingly pleased that I was getting too fat for my clothes. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"I spoke to Chris, and he is sending a locum starting tomorrow until you are home and healed up," I changed the subject. "I think he said his name was Dr. Lowe."

Martin thought a minute. "The name doesn't ring a bell…he must be new," he said dubiously. "I hope he knows what he's doing."

I smiled at him. "I'm sure Chris wouldn't send him if he didn't. And I'll be there to help," I said. "And it's only for a little while. I just need you to rest as much as possible so you can come home to me. You've ruined me when it comes to sleeping alone, I just don't sleep well without you."

He squeezed my hand again. "Mmm. I share the sentiment," he answered. "And it doesn't help that this hospital bed was quite possibly used as an implement of torture in the dark ages."

Mr. Dennison came in that afternoon for a follow up. When he took the dressing off the wound, he frowned. "I don't think I like the look of that…it seems we have a bit of infection starting. I'm going to increase your dosage of Cefoxitin and see if that clears it up," he told Martin. "We'll monitor your temperature as well…it seems to be slightly elevated, but not concerning right now."

I thanked the doctor, and when he had gone, turned to Martin. "Not exactly the outcome we were hoping for, is it?" I asked, kissing him on the forehead. He did feel a bit warm.

"Decidedly not," Martin answered darkly.