Battle Cry - Leon Uris [151]
“How do you feel?” she asked softly.
“How…how long I been here?”
“Almost three days.”
He drew a long breath. “I must have tossed a shindig.”
“How do you feel?” she repeated.
“Like a million bucks.”
“Can you sit up? Drink this. I’ll make some hot broth.”
Andy came to a sitting position slowly and again shook his head to erase the determined ringing. He instinctively reached for his dogtags. They were gone.
“My tags?”
“I took them off. I was afraid you would choke.”
He pulled the covers about him.
“I had to undress you…you were wringing wet.”
He put the cup to his lips and looked at her. There were deep circles of sleeplessness under her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Pat.”
She smiled. “I must say, you did give me a bit of a fright.”
“Did I say much?”
She nodded.
“Christ, I bet you hate me.”
“I’m glad it’s over, Andy. Do you want a cigarette?”
“Please.”
“Here.”
“Get one of mine.”
His senses slowly returned. He drew deeply on the cigarette. Pat sat on the bed’s edge. Neither of them spoke. They stared long and hard at each other. Andy snuffed the smoke in the ashtray she held.
“Poor dear,” she whispered, “you’ve been through hell.”
“I’m sorry I let you in for it, Pat.”
“I’m glad I didn’t let you go to your hotel. I’d have lost my mind.”
Andy looked at the array of medicines on the bed stand and at the chairs on which she had kept her vigil.
“I’d better make you something to eat,” she whispered.
“Wait a minute, Pat. Nobody ever done anything like this for me before….”
“That’s all right, Andy,” she said softly.
“You look beat out. Have you had any sleep?”
“I caught a wink or two. I’m all right.”
“Pat?”
“Yes.”
“It seemed like I opened my eyes a couple times, I reached out, and I felt someone…warm…I felt you. I guess I was just dreaming.”
“You weren’t dreaming. I was frightened of your chills.” Her hand reached out and touched his bare chest. “I was frightened for you.” He held her hand and placed it to his mouth and kissed it. And he drew her close and she rested her head on his chest.
“Darling,” she cried. “I was so frightened.”
He lifted her face to his and kissed her. She closed her eyes as his big hands stroked through her hair and over her cheeks and neck.
“Oh, Andy…Andy…”
They kissed again and her arms were about him tightly. He fumbled for the tie of her housecoat. “No, Andy. No, you’re too weak.”
“I’m all right.”
“You’re still sick, Andy….”
“Pat, Pat….” She opened her housecoat and embraced him.
He opened his eyes and felt over the bed for her and sprang to a sitting position, then settled back in the pillows as she came into the room with a tray in her hands. She adjusted the pillows for his back and put the tray in his lap.
“You’d best get some nourishment.”
He blew into a spoon of soup and sipped it down slowly. The warmth felt luxurious all the way down. She sat on the edge of the bed and cast her eyes to the floor. She reached up and ran her fingers through his mussed hair and patted his cheek. Andy dug his fork into the salad and wolfed it down hungrily.
“I feel awful,” she finally said.
He put the spoon down. “Are you sorry, Pat?”
The corners of her mouth showed a small smile and there was a twinkle in her eyes. “Of course I’m not sorry, silly,” she said, “but I do feel wicked with you being so sick.”
Andy gobbled another bite of salad. “Don’t worry none about that. Us gyrenes are tough as redwood trees, specially us Swedes.”
She arose and turned partly away from him. “I suppose you think I’m just the same as…as those girls you spoke about.”
“Aw for Chrisake, Pat.”
“I don’t really care, you know.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“Oh, it’s quite all right, Andy. You don’t have to put up a show for me. I don’t expect it.”
“That ain’t like you and you know it.”
“But it is. It is now!”
He wiped his lips and set his glass on the tray, then shoved the tray aside. He