Bag in hand, Keasley shifted as if to go. “Please, don’t leave yet,” I pleaded. “Nick might need something. He has a nasty cut on his head.”

“Rache,” Jenks said as he flew circles around Keasley in greeting. “What the devil did you say to Matalina? She’s flitting over the garden as if she’s on Brimstone, laughing and crying all at the same time. Can’t get a straight word out of the woman.” He jerked to a stop, hovering in midair, listening.

“Oh, great,” he muttered. “They’re at it again already.”

I exchanged a weary look with Keasley as the muttered conversation in the hall came to an intent but quiet finish. Ivy walked in with a satisfied look. Nick was quick behind her. His scowl melted into a smile when he saw me upright and clearly feeling better. He had changed into an oversized white cotton T-shirt and a clean pair of baggy jeans fresh from the dryer. His charming half smile didn’t work on me. The thought of why my wrist was bleeding was too real.

“You must be Keasley?” Nick asked, holding out his hand over the table as if nothing was wrong. “I’m Nick.”

Keasley cleared his throat and took his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his words at odds with the disapproving look on his old face. “Rachel wants me to look at your forehead.”

“I’m fine. It quit bleeding in the shower.”

“Really.” The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Rachel’s wrist won’t quit.”

Nick’s face went slack. His gaze darted to me. His mouth opened, then shut. I glared at him. Damn it all to hell. He knew exactly what that meant. “It—um …” he whispered.

“What?” Ivy prompted. Jenks landed on her shoulder, and she brushed him off.

Nick ran a hand over his chin and said nothing. Nick and I were going to talk.… We were going to talk real soon. Keasley aggressively shoved his paper bag into Nick’s chest. “Hold this while I get Rachel’s bath started. I want to make sure her core temp is where it should be.”

Nick meekly backed up. Ivy looked suspiciously between the three of us. “A bath,” I said brightly, not wanting her to know anything was wrong. She’d probably kill Nick if she knew what had happened. “That sounds great.” I pushed my blanket and coat off of me and swung my feet to the floor. The room darkened and I felt my face go cold.

“Slow up,” Keasley said as he put a dark hand on my shoulder. “Wait until it’s ready.”

I took a deep breath, refusing to put my head between my knees. It was so undignified.

Nick looked sick as he stood in the corner. “Uh,” he stammered. “You might have to wait for that bath. I think I used all the hot water.”

“Good,” I breathed, “that’s what I told you to do.” But inside I was withering.

Keasley harrumphed. “That’s what the pans of water are for.”