Farraway Mist ?A Wattpad featured story?

Chapter 5: Explanations

"Right, now blink for me, please," Dr. Chandler said.

Scout blinked obediently.

"Now follow my finger with your eyes only, don't move your head," he continued.

Scout watched his gnarled finger without turning her head.

It was the following morning. The sun shone brightly into George's room as she sat up in his bed. The dogs were watching Dr. Chandler's finger, too, which Scout found amusing.

Dr. Chandler sat back. "Well, everything seems fine, I think," he said in that reassuring way doctors the world over seemed to have. He was a doctor straight out of English central casting, right down to the baggy argyle cardigan, stethoscope and ancient black bag he carried. "Though you really ought to have called me yesterday," he admonished George.

George nodded guiltily. "I know, I know," he admitted. "You're sure she's fine, though, doctor?"

Dr. Chandler patted Scout's knee. "She's had a bit of a fright, that's all, brought on by sleep deprivation and a nightmare from travel and sleeping in a strange bed." He rose. "Some good food, a nice, bracing walk in the sea air and a few good nights' rest and she'll right as rain, I'd stake my life on it." He smiled at George and Scout, eyes twinkling.

"What do I owe you, Doctor?" Scout called as he got to the door.

He waved her words away. "Already been taken care of," he said. "Now you take care of yourself, young lady. Pretty young thing like you, wouldn't do if you got hurt and had to leave us first thing, now, would it?"

George followed him out and walked him to the front door.

"And how's your shoulder?" Dr. Chandler asked.

"Oh, a little bruised, but I'll recover, no worries," George replied with a grin, rolling the shoulder in question.

"Do I need to take a quick look?" the doctor asked.

George shook his head.

"Thanks again for coming so quickly," he said, shaking the doctor's hand.

"Please, don't mention it," the doctor said sincerely, putting his other hand on top of their clasped ones. "Now listen, George. I didn't want to say anything in front of her, frighten her unnecessarily, you understand, but you really should keep an eye on her for the next few days, hm? Especially at night? Seems a bit high strung, that one. Wouldn't want her to get hurt, running around this huge place in the dark alone." He gave George a look.

George looked back and nodded.

"Good man," Dr. Chandler said, clapping him on the back as he left.

George turned, made a pit stop in the kitchen for tea and ran back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, quite a feat with the hot tea in his hands.

Scout smiled when she saw the mug.

"You English and your tea," she said, shaking her head. "Some stereotypes are rooted in complete truth, I guess."

"Shh, drink your tea," he admonished, handing her the mug.

She accepted it and sipped, drawing her knees up. She poked at her hair a little, and pulled the comforter up so it covered a little more of her, and George realized that she was uncomfortable. She'd probably never been in a "morning after" situation with a man before, he realized.

How cute.

"So, um, listen, George?" she began hesitantly.

He looked at her attentively.