The Taint Read Online Free PDF

a single wild rose in the other.
    “Jon.” Her hand went to her mouth to hide the tremble and then she stepped toward him, feeling with great relief his arms as they went around her. When he made no move to kiss her she leaned back and pulled his head down, trying to act very matter-of-fact, but feeling thirteen again.
    She was only mildly surprised when he pulled away after gently brushing her lips with his. It was very like him.
    “It’s been a long time,” she said then, and moved back, taking his arm and leading him into the house.
    “You look great.” He offered her the rose.
    “Thank you.” She took the rose and turned. So do you, she thought. “Come in the kitchen, I’ll get a vase.”
    He followed her and accepted a cup of coffee, watching with amused eyes as she searched the cupboards in vain for the vase. Finally she put it in one of her mother’s parfait glasses and sat opposite him at the table.
    “So.” He smiled. “Yet another Doctor Adams in town.”
    “I’m still not used to calling myself doctor,” she admitted.
    “Doctor Rachel Elizabeth Adams.” He considered. “Has a nice sound to it.”
    She smiled, pleased that he remembered her middle name. She sipped coffee and examined him over the rim of the cup. His black hair was beginning to gray at the temples but it suited him.
    The silence between them was a comfortable one.
    Later she walked him out to his truck. She wished briefly that she were a child again, so that she could touch him without having her feelings show. Instead she ran a hand along the shiny surface of the Bronco.
    “This is sure a step up from that old Dodge truck you used to drive.” She turned and motioned at her own car. “I guess I’d better look for something a bit more sturdy.”
    Jon tossed his hat on the truck seat and looked at her. “Don’t sell it before I have a chance to drive it . . . I’ve always wanted a Porsche.”
    “Anytime.” She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her pants, her head tilted to meet his eyes.
    He got into the Bronco and pulled away.
     
     

NINE
     
    Nathan walked to the east wing nurse’s station, Wendall Tyler’s chart in his hand. Tyler had deteriorated since his admission, but there was nothing in his work-up to indicate why. Blood count and chemistry were within normal limits, the chest x-ray and skull series were both negative.
    Yet the patient’s physical condition was poor; his eyes were sunken, his reflexes sluggish and his color was ashen. He was still mute. There was no way to obtain a history unless they reached the next of kin, and they’d had no luck so far.
    He sat at the desk in the station and opened the chart to the nursing notes. The history and physical assessment form, filled out by Joyce on admission, was largely blank, since a large percentage of the evaluation depended on the patient’s ability to cooperate. The items that could be answered from observation duplicated the results of his own examination.
    The neurological assessment was brief: the patient was able to move his extremities, his pupils were equal and reactive, and speech was absent.
    He turned to the shift notes. As per his orders, Joyce had established an IV to prevent dehydration, using a twenty gauge intracath, and running a solution of five percent dextrose and water.
    Vital signs were stable, taken every four hours since admission. The patient was receiving no medication.
    Emma Sutter had come into the station and was digging around in a drawer, tossing forms and pads on the counter. He watched her idly, his mind still computing Tyler’s case, and then realized she was speaking to him.
    “I’m sorry, Emma, what did you say?”
    She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I said, today is the big day.”
    “Hm. Oh yes, you’re right. Rachel will be coming back with me after lunch.” He closed the chart and pushed it away.
    “Well, none too soon, if you ask me. Maybe you’ll take a day off once in a while.” Hands on her