“Dorie? Darlin’, say something.”

Wait. No French accent. No low, husky voice that gave her warm fuzzies, but Andy, and his adamantly hunky smile and sweet eyes. Only… she blinked to make sure… his eyes weren’t looking so sweet at the moment, but… uh-oh. “Grandma,” she said weakly, “what big eyes you have.”

He smiled tightly. The better to see you with, my dear.

She swallowed hard. “And what big teeth you have.”

The better to eat you with, my dear.

With a gasp, she sat straight up, then cried out at the dagger of pain between her ears.

“Jesus, Dorie, are you all right?” His hands settled on her shoulders.

To hold her down and eat her with. Those big fangs would help, too. With a little scream, she scrambled backward, cringing at the quick movement.

“Darlin’, don’t. Don’t move.”

“What did you say?” she asked hoarsely.

“Uh… don’t move?”

“Before that. The eating me part.”

The look on Andy’s face defied description. “Nothing about eating you.”

When she blinked again, he looked the same as always. Too cute for words, his eyes normal, teeth normal.

“You cracked your head,” he said, clearly worried. “Let me-”

Unable to dispel the nightmare, she batted his hands away.

Stymied, he sat back on his heels. “Dorie? Do you know who I am?”

“Depends on whose teeth you’ve got at the moment.”

“Uh-oh,” he said.

“My head.” She clasped it between her hands. “I think it’s going to fall off.” She touched her neck, to make sure it wasn’t severed.

It wasn’t.

Unwilling to keep sitting on the ground, she stood, then cringed. “Oh, dear,” she whispered, her head spinning. Worse, so was her stomach, prompting her to go very, very still.

“Oh, crap.” Andy leapt up, and out of her way, though she didn’t actually throw up.

“I’m okay. I’m just…” She sat back down abruptly as her world continued to spin on its axis. “Going to sit right here for a minute.”

“Good idea. Ethan!” Andy yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Ethan, where the hell are you? Dorie’s hurt!”

So once again she’d shown her graceful side. Nice. Just like any minute now, she was going to show her ill side. She held her breath, willing to sell her soul to the devil rather than throw up in front of Andy.

“Dorie? Talk to me.”

“Watch your shoes.”

He backed up again, but she managed to keep her breakfast down. “Stop the world,” she murmured. “I want to get off.”

“Where the hell did Ethan go?” He slid his fingers gently into her hair, probing her scalp. “Ah, hell. You’ve got a huge goose egg here. Let me see your eyes.”

She blinked at him. “Why?”

“I’m not sure.” He stared into them. “But that’s the first thing the team doc does when we get hit in the head with a line drive.”

Her stomach pitched as if she was still on the Sun Song in the storm, and she clutched at his arms. “It’s choppy out here.”

“Oh, boy.” He slid his arms around her. “You’re screwed up, darlin’. Let me carry you back.”

She wanted to say no, she was fine, except for one thing.

She wasn’t.

He pulled something out of her hair-a stick. And then another.

“Get the bugs first.”

“You don’t have bugs.” But he did pull out a leaf. “Hey, you don’t seem so tongue-tied now, right?” He smiled into her eyes. “Maybe we could give this thing another shot after all.”

“I’m not tongue-tied because I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re pale, but not green.” His worried eyes searched her features. “Your skin’s clammy and your eyes are glossy. But mostly, I’m concerned about the size of that lump.”

“Really, I’m okay.” Probably. Maybe. Hopefully…

The bush rustled again, bigger than before. Someone was coming. And not from the way Ethan had vanished, but from the direction they’d come from.

Andy got to his feet, his back to her, protecting her. She stood, too, and then had to cling to him for support because she was on an invisible roller coaster. She really hoped it wasn’t a pirate, coming to pillage. “Get out your knife,” she whispered. “Or whatever you have.”

“What?” Andy twisted around and stared down at her in shock. “I don’t have a knife.”

So not everyone had armed themselves. Maybe he hadn’t felt the need, because he’d been the one to hurt Bobby.

She set her forehead to his back, not because she wanted to touch him, but because she needed him to support her upright.

From out of bushes came… the other group. Brandy, Cadence, Denny, and… and Christian?

“Whew,” Brandy said, swiping her forearm over her forehead. “Hot shit today, huh?”

“Too hot,” Cadence agreed. “We went west forever, and came to one great big hike straight uphill, which led to nowhere except a bigger, sharper, more unclimbable cliff. We decided to try your way, and found Christian. Gorgeous Grumpy Doctor here thought he heard a cry for help.”

“Gorgeous Grumpy Doctor?” Christian repeated. “What the hell is that?”

Dorie looked around for a hole to fall into. Oh, wait. She’d already fallen.

“I want some answers,” Denny demanded.

“Yeah? I want a shower,” Brandy told him. “And a massage.”

“I want a real bathroom,” Cadence said.

Christian didn’t say anything, he just came straight at Andy, then reached around him for Dorie.

“It’s okay,” Andy said. “I’ve got her.”

But Christian didn’t let go, and for a moment, just a very brief beat really, there was a silent tug-of-war over her.

Dorie couldn’t believe it. Two outrageously handsome men wanted her.

Her.

And she was going to throw up.

“Why are you green?” Christian demanded to know.

“It’s my favorite color.”

He pulled her close, then frowned down into her face. Without a word, he supported her while looking her over with a staggering intensity. “Que s’est produit?”

“Um, what?”

“What happened?”

Before she could answer, thunder boomed, and they all jumped. A storm had moved in so quickly they hadn’t even noticed. As the clouds surged over the cliffs and opened up, Andy turned to Christian. “She fell.” He had to yell this over the next boom of thunder, and the sudden drenching rain. “Bumped her head!”

Dorie went to nod in agreement. Not a smart move. A sharp pain that had nothing to do with the storm exploded behind her eyes. She heard a distressed moan-her own, she realized-and then her vision began to fade.

She’d fainted once before, in the Shop-Mart as a matter of fact, after a particularly nasty bout of the flu when Mr. Stryowski had made her come back to work too soon. The same warning signs had come to her then, a clanging in her head, her vision fading out, a funny metallic taste on her tongue… She opened her mouth to warn everyone, but the only thing she managed was “uh-oh.”

And then everything went black.


Andy grabbed Dorie and sat on the ground with her in his arms. Christian sank to his knees next to them, pulling off his backpack to get to his first-aid kit, which he should rename the Dorie Kit. The rain was already moving on, and as he shook the water out of his face, he let a quiet calm wash over him, the calm that came whenever he was needed in a work capacity.

Because this was work, he reminded himself, and nothing more. “Dorie.”

She didn’t move.

Andy looked utterly shaken, though not shaken enough to stop him from touching her all over. He pulled his hand out from behind her head, his fingers dark with her blood, and went suddenly still. “My God. I didn’t realize she was bleeding a little.”

“Great,” Denny said. “Just great.”

“That’s not a little,” Cadence said, also clearly shaken. “Christian-”

He was on it. He ran his hands up Dorie’s neck, feeling for injury there first before he carefully turned her head and found the source of the blood. An open cut, not deep enough for stitches, but oozing enough to look more shocking than it was. Still, in this heat and humidity, the chance of infection was extremely high. “Head wounds always bleed like a mother.” He grabbed some gauze and pressed it against the cut with some pressure.

Dorie moaned but didn’t open her eyes.

Andy looked down at the gauze, quickly going red with her blood, and went green himself. “Oh, God.” Closing his eyes, he let out a matching moan to Dorie’s. “Not so good with blood.”

“Suck it up,” he directed the baseball star. “When she opens her eyes, she needs to see you looking calm.”

Andy nodded but still looked green.

Christian gently stroked Dorie’s hair away from the wound. “The cut’s superficial. The concern is the large contusion she’s sporting.” He looked up at Andy. “How long was she unconscious the first time?”

Andy swallowed hard. His color still hadn’t improved, and Christian would guess he was close to passing out himself. Just what he needed. “How long, Andy?”

“She wasn’t, not really. Just confused. She thought… I think she thought I was the big, bad wolf.”

“Interesting,” Brandy said, looking Andy over speculatively.

“Dorie,” Christian said firmly, touching her jaw. “Wake up.”

Her still wet eyelids fluttered, and then opened, and he took a deep breath of relief. “Morning, Sunshine.”

“Hey.” She tried to sit up. “Don’t tell me I got another splinter, because-”

“Whoa.” He held her down, then looked into each of her pupils. “Mildly concussed. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your skull open like an egg, you know that? Now just lay there a second, give your organs a chance to catch up. Took a good fall this time, did you?”

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes again. “Because, you know, the last few weren’t good enough.” She went green to match Andy. “Oh boy.”