Then everything went fuzzy again. He must have passed out, because when he came to, he was in a hospital bed with Laurel sleeping on a chair next to him. Her wrist was in a blue cast and tucked into a sling attached around her neck, and her mouth was parted slightly as she slept. He blinked several times, noting the sound of his heart beating loudly via a monitor above his head.

Frowning, he yanked the leads off his chest.

“Stop that,” a woman said.

He jerked and turned to the other side of the bed, where Deidre Snow sat, knitting something yellow. Some sort of hat. “Sorry.” He paused. “Wait a minute. What is going on?”

A nurse bustled into the room, her gray hair streaked with green and piled atop her head. She appeared to be about sixty and had wide shoulders. “You did not pull that off your chest.”

“I did.” He struggled to sit.

“Here.” Deidre pushed a button on a large controller hanging from the metal bed rail, and the head of the bed lifted. “I came back from my spa vacation early, so the least you can do is listen to the nurse.” Her tone was more gentle than authoritative.

He settled, noting his chest was bare. “Thank you.”

Laurel didn’t move. She was really out.

Huck stretched his arms and legs and then spread out his hands. “She should go sleep at home.”

“She wouldn’t leave you until you awoke,” Deidre whispered, her eyes veiled.

His head felt like he’d taken a bowling ball to the skull, and his mouth was drier than his old man’s sense of humor had been. Gingerly, he reached up and touched a bandage on his temple.

The nurse gently moved his hand away. “Be careful with that.”

He glared at her.

The sound of tennis shoes on tile squeaked outside and then a man strode in. The guy wore a green velour leisure sweat suit beneath an unbuttoned white lab coat, had to be about ninety years old, and carried a tablet in his hands. “It’s about time you woke up. I’m Dr. Snoggles, and you’re keeping me up.”

Huck blinked. Once and then again. “Is this a joke?”

“No.” The doctor lifted two fingers. “Follow my hand.” He performed several tests and checked Huck’s memory, which was fine up until the time his truck had flipped over. “The MRI ruled out other potential injuries, but you most certainly have a concussion. I want to keep you for a day or so to watch you.”

“No.” Huck would leave now, but he didn’t want to wake Laurel.

She stirred anyway, her eyes opening sleepily. “Hi. You’re conscious.”

“Yeah.” He looked at her cast. “How bad?”

“It’s a distal radial fracture.” She looked down at her arm. “I’m on pain medication and rather enjoy the sensations.”

Deidre chuckled. “Good to hear.”