"I'm fine," Colton grumbled. "I appreciate you driving me home because you're right, I'm a little woozy because of the painkillers, but I'm alright."

"And stubborn," Seth added.

Dorrie just smiled, a little sadly, but it was a smile nonetheless. "She's going to write the story."

Colton swore.

"Yes, I feel the same way," Dorrie said, "but it's her right. She sees it as her obligation - to get the truth out."

"But she can't report the suicide note, right?"

Seth held up his hand. "Colton, would it really be so bad if people knew the truth about Belinda's suicide attempt?"

"Yes," Colton replied without hesitation. "She's a very sick young woman who needs help."

"A young woman who almost died," Dorrie pointed out. "She knew what she was doing."

"But she called Spring," Colton argued. "If she had been truly set on that path, she wouldn't have reached out for help."

"Or it might just have been the influence of the drugs," Seth said. "We may never know why she did what she did."

"But the Abbotsford cops are going to question her." Colton felt a little desperate. "The doctors are going to help her now, right? Find a way to get her the help she needs."

"If she comes out of the coma." Dorrie's contribution.

"She will," Colton said. "She has to."

"Because she can exonerate you," Seth said.

Colton shook his head. "She has to come out because it's not her time to die. She's too young."

Dorrie gave him a long level look. "She's facing a lifetime of mental illness, Colton. Even if she does stay on her meds, it's still a lifetime commitment to the process and we've seen what can happen when people go off their meds. If she stays on the path she's on, she's going to self-destruct and who knows how many people she's going to take down with her?"

He swallowed. Hard. Because everything Dorrie was saying was true. Mental illness as severe as Belinda's could only bring heartache if she didn't stick to the regime set out by her doctors.

"It also looks like she's an alcoholic," Seth added. "Her place was full of empties."

"The two go hand-in-hand," Colton argued. "If they can get the bipolar under control then they can treat the alcoholism."

"If she wants help," Dorrie reiterated.

Colton threw up his hands. "This is getting us nowhere. Look, it's getting late and I'm exhausted. Knowing my luck either a lawyer or an intrepid reporter are going to be on my doorstep at the crack of dawn."

"Probably not Spring," Seth said. "She just finished interviewing Jocelyne and Doc has the impression the job is just beginning. Seems the intrepid reporter has a lot of work ahead of her."

"You do realize I'm going to have to kill her," Colton said.

Dorrie leaned forward in her seat. "I refused to give her names or even promise to talk to victims and reassure them she'll give them anonymity. Still, she implied there were people who had written to the paper and asked for the opportunity to tell their stories."

"Doc said it felt good," Seth said. "She's one of the strongest people I know and if this helps her then I'm all for it. That fact she's helping you is just a bonus."

"Helping me how? I arrested her."

Seth glanced over at Dorrie and Colton could see he was weighing his next words carefully.

"I never told Dorrie," Colton assured him. "She doesn't know."

"Nor does she need to know," Dorrie went on to assure Seth. "What happened to Jocelyne, what she shared with the two of you that can stay between you all. I know Colton arrested her because of an outstanding warrant, but I've never asked for - nor do I expect - an explanation as to the rest of it."

Seth took a deep breath. "What she went through...it was unspeakable. Maybe not as bad as what you've seen, but it was up there. She trusted Colton. She couldn't trust me, but she could trust him."

"That's a bit of a simplification," Colton argued.

"Really? Because she came back a stronger person. She came back and was ready to deal with her past."

This time, Colton didn't argue. "Look, this is all well and good, but I think it's time for you two to go home."

Seth stood, but Dorrie refused.

"I'm staying the night."

Colton rolled his eyes. "It was a few cuts."

"You got more than forty stitches," Dorrie argued.

"He's been shot," Seth pointed out. "In comparison, this is nothing."

"Trust you to bring up the worst moment of my illustrious career," Colton muttered. He turned to Dorrie. "I promise to take both my antibiotics and my painkillers."

He could tell he was winning, because she stood, albeit reluctantly. "I'm going to check in tomorrow before I go on shift," Dorrie said. "And I'll check in with the hospital first, so don't worry about that."

Knowing he wouldn't be able to get any information anyway, Colton acquiesced.

"At least let me get your t-shirt off," Dorrie said.

"I can do it," Colton protested. Over the years, Dorrie had seen him without his shirt a couple of times, but it was never comfortable for him.

"I'll do it," Seth volunteered. He held out his hand and Colton grasped it with his good arm, allowing his friend to pull him up. He damn nearly fell back, he was so dizzy.

"Colton-" Dorrie began.

"I'll be fine," he said quietly. "I think I need to be alone, Dorrie. So I thank you, but this is something I need to do on my own."

"Okay," she said quietly. "If Seth has this, I'm going to head out. I'll be back in the morning. I'll use my key, so don't get up." When they had first partnered up, they had exchanged keys for emergency use. Colton had the same arrangement with Seth. This was going to be the first time and, in all honesty, Colton was grateful because suddenly the distance to the front door felt like a million miles.

Dorrie left and Seth put Colton's good arm over his shoulder. "Lean on me, okay? I don't need you falling over." They took it slowly and made a detour to the bathroom. Again, Colton felt his mind was becoming more and more sluggish. He washed his hands and felt the sting of the soap in the cuts on his hand. He wanted to be the one to take off his t-shirt, but he could see it wasn't going to work. So he let Seth remove it and settle him into bed. Seth brought a glass of water along with the bottles of pills.

"Have Dorrie text me in the morning to let me know how you're doing," Seth said. "Have her text Doc as well so she doesn't worry."

Colton frowned. "Why would Doc worry?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Because she loves you almost as much as I do."

"I hurt her sister."

"And she's long forgiven you for that. So has Chantale, if you hadn't noticed. I think it speaks volumes she's willing to come to your defence."

"She's as crazy as the rest of you."

"Maybe," Seth admitted. "Or we're just people who care about you and know you're a good man."

Colton wanted to argue. Because a good man wouldn't have had sex with a woman like Belinda in his kitchen. A woman who was so clearly mentally ill. A woman who was a victim.

"See you tomorrow," Seth said, heading out the door.

"Can you leave the door unlocked?"

Seth cocked his head.

"Because the lawyer is going to show up and I don't think I'm going to have the strength to get to the front door before she wakes the entire neighbourhood."

"Any chance she still has a key?"

Colton cringed. "Well, she never had one in the first place. We didn't come here very often."

Seth nodded. "Because she might have wanted to stay the night."

"That makes me sound bad," Colton said. "But it was true. I never stayed the night at her place either."

"Have you ever," Seth asked.

"I only made that mistake once," Colton said stiffly.

Seth looked intrigued. "Care to share?"

"It was a long time ago," Colton said. "I learned my lesson and I'm never going to put myself in that position again."

His friend looked like he wanted to ask more questions.

"But I'm tired," Colton said, cutting off any possible continuation of the discussion.

"I get it," Seth said. "But I hope one day you will meet someone worth it." With that, he was gone.

Colton waited until he heard the click of the door then he let out the breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. Seth probably thought Colton's mistake had been marrying Sunshine, but that wasn't true. No, Colton had learned early on about the capriciousness of women. Lola had taught him a very tough lesson and he'd been a good student. Marrying Sunshine had been a moment of weakness - one he had no intention of repeating.

Still, as he slipped into sleep, he was plagued with images of a woman with black hair and pale blue eyes. Not his ex-wife as had happened before, but her younger sister.

He was in trouble.

Colton heard her even before he opened his eyes.

"Good morning Chantale," he managed to say.

"The front door was unlocked," she said without preamble. "So how bad it is?"

"I need to go to the bathroom," Colton replied.

"I'll help you," she replied.

"I think I can manage on my own," he said.

"I wasn't offering that," she said tartly. "I was offering you a hand out of bed."

Given that Chantale was a good foot shorter and about eighty pounds lighter, it was a bit of a joke, but Colton wasn't laughing.

"Do you think you can hold my head," he asked.

"Of course," she replied, grasping his cheeks in her hands.

It took a bit of work, but Colton managed to push himself up with his good arm, appreciative Chantale was there to make sure he didn't fall backwards. She was a strong little thing, but he had always known that. Despite the size difference, she'd always been a match for him in bed.

Then he heard her sharp intake of breath. "Jesus, Colton."

"That about sums it up," he said, again using his good arm to push himself off the bed. The pain nearly brought him to his knees, but Chantale was there, positioning herself under his arm.

"I can hold you steady," she said. "Now, one foot in front of the other and we'll make it to the bathroom."

Colton didn't have her optimism, but the other choice was wetting himself and there was no way he was going to do that, so he kept moving forward. Yet when he got to the bathroom, he found Chantale wasn't leaving. Instead, she was reaching for the button on his jeans.

"It was my left arm," he protested.

"It will take you forever to do this one-handed," she replied tartly. "So just shut up and let me do this."

He wanted to argue, he really did, but he was a little desperate. When she reached into his boxer shorts, however, he'd had enough. "Get out," he growled.

"Isn't anything I haven't already seen," she replied.

"Well, as nice as that sentiment is, I don't think your husband would like knowing about this."

That gave her pause.

"And I'm sure you wouldn't like it if one of his ex-girlfriends were manhandling him," Colton pointed out.

She grunted, but pulled her hand back. "I'll get you a pair of sweatpants so you won't have to do battle with your fly every time you have to go to the washroom."

He couldn't argue with that logic and when she returned, he did let her get him changed, grateful he was wearing his boxer shorts. It felt intimate yet Chantale was clinically detached, so Colton couldn't complain. But by the time he was back in bed, he felt like he'd run a marathon.

Chantale disappeared and came back with a glass of orange juice. She pulled out the requisite amount of pills and helped him take them.

"Forty stitches," she said. "And I'll bet you were thinking you could be a macho man."

He had been planning to breeze it out, but that clearly wasn't going to work. His arm felt like it was on fire. "It is causing me some discomfort."

"Discomfort?" How Chantale managed to lace so much sarcasm in one word was impressive.

"Okay," he said, "pain. I'm in a lot of pain."

"Oh, I bet that hurt."

"You'll never know."

"But I do, Colton, because I know you. You're indomitable and you're always the strong one. Now, how the hell did you drive yourself to the hospital?"

So she had heard most of what had happened yesterday. Somehow, he wasn't surprised. He wanted to ask who had made the call, but then he realized it didn't matter.

"Adrenaline," he replied. "That and Spring was worse off than I was. We needed to get to the hospital and I don't think I realized just how bad it was."

"But Spring was okay."

Colton nodded then regretted moving his head which hurt almost as much as his arm. "Yes, she was able to come back from wherever it was she had gone. It was shock, I know. God knows I've seen it often enough. I just panicked."

"Because you care about her."

His brow furrowed and he looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "Of course I care. What a stupid thing to say."

Chantale smiled. "No, I mean you really care. Care like more than just a friend." She paused. "And she feels the same way."

"She told you that?" He didn't bother to hide the surprise in his voice.

"She didn't have to," Chantale assured him. "She was on the phone with me at seven thirty this morning after having stayed up all night."

"All night?" He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

Chantale nodded. "She wanted to post the story on the website because today's edition has already gone to print. She's going to hold off until my meeting with Catriona this morning."

Cat the Rat, Colton thought. Normally he loved Crown Prosecutors who went hard on criminals, but now that the shoe was on the other foot, he wasn't quite so enamoured with her.

"What time is our meeting with her?"

"Not 'our'," Chantale said, "just me."

"I need to be there," Colton argued. "She needs to talk to me."

"That's the last thing she needs," Chantale said, "because she's pissed with you right now. If she had her way, your bail would be revoked and your ass would be in jail."

"That's her prerogative," Colton said. "I broke my bail conditions."

"And saved Belinda's life." She reached out a hand and pressed it to his cheek. "Spring told me everything."

Colton's eyes narrowed. "Everything?"

Chantale's brow arched. "You think she might have left something out?"

"There was some confidential medical information which she had no right to share."

"You mean about Belinda's suicide attempt? Colton, Spring was there. She wasn't able to confirm Belinda's current status and the hospital is being tight-lipped about it."

"She's not out of her coma yet."

Chantale and Colton both turned to see Dorrie leaning against the doorjamb.

"The prognosis is uncertain because there was so much damage to her body," Dorrie said.

Chantale's eyes narrowed. "How did you learn all this?"

Dorrie held up her hands. "Through third-hand sources. The hospital is abuzz with gossip and I just tapped into a source. I didn't break any rules, if that's what you're worried about."

It was Colton who sighed. "I just keep thinking if I'd gotten there sooner..."

Both women turned to him but it was Chantale who spoke. "You're kidding, right? If not for you, she would be dead. There's no way Spring could have gotten into that house by herself."

"But I fought her on it," Colton said. "I slowed her down."

"Again, not your fault. You were thinking like a cop who has to worry about rules and regulations."

"She was dying," Colton said. "And I'm not sure she wanted to survive."

Dorrie shrugged. "Well, she doesn't have a choice now. I mean, they're going to keep her alive as best they can." She turned to Chantale. "And it's now well-known she left a suicide note. So that's got to carry some weight, right?"

Chantale nodded. "It will, but the recantation will mean more coming from her. So we need to pray she comes out of her coma without any brain damage."

Both Colton and Dorrie scowled.

Looking back and forth between the two cops, Chantale's brow furrowed. "What?"

"We don't pray," Colton said. "After what we've seen in our jobs, we don't really believe in God or some higher power."

Chantale looked over to Dorrie for confirmation and the woman nodded. She sighed. "Okay, so don't pray. Just wish for Belinda to get better. That's not against the rules, is it?"

Dorrie shrugged. "No, I guess not. You just have to understand what we've seen. It..." Her voice trailed off. "It would break your heart."

"Well, if someone had shared with me that part of his life, maybe I could be more understanding," Chantale said, an edge to her voice.

"I told you that you didn't need that crap in your head," Colton shot back, only to cringe.

Dorrie stepped fully into the room. "How bad?"

"Bad," Chantale said. "I want him to see a doctor."

Colton waved her off. It was an effort, even though it was his good arm. "I'm fine."

Dorrie stepped over to him and lay her hand against his forehead. "No fever," she said, "but I still agree with Chantale. Maybe they can give you a stronger painkiller."

"He could also use a nurse or aide," Chantale said. "Because he would be better off using a bedpan than trying to get to and from the bathroom."

That pushed Colton over the edge. "No goddam bedpans, no nurses, no doctors. I've had it, okay? Yes, I'm in pain. My arm feels like it's on fire, but that's to be expected. Do I regret doing what I did? No." He rounded on Chantale. "So you tell Cat the Rat that she's welcome to revoke my bail because I would do the same thing all over again." He turned to Dorrie. "And you go find that nosy reporter and tell her she can't run the story."

"It's too late for that," Chantale said quietly. "She's already spoken to three victims - on the record - who have told their stories. She's only holding off because if Cat doesn't drop the charges then Spring is going to include that in her story. She's mad the charges haven't already been dropped."

"Things don't work that quickly," Dorrie said.

"You and I know that," Chantale said, "but to the lay person, it's not so obvious. She knows about the suicide note and she wants that information to influence Catriona."

Dorrie's phone rang and she checked the number. She held up a finger and then stepped out of the room to take the call.

"I'm going to ask Jossie to drop by this afternoon and check your stitches," Chantale said. "And you can argue all you want, but you know she's probably already planning a visit."

"You know, the Baldwin sisters are almost as stubborn as the Dixon sisters."

Chantale grinned. "I would argue we're more so, but you've had more experience with both."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Colton said suddenly.

"I forgave you a long time ago," Chantale said with a smile. "Because if not for you then I wouldn't have met Declan."

"You're really happy, aren't you?"

"Just about a year together," Chantale replied. "Happiest year of my life. If not for him, I would have never known. He makes me believe in myself. He's helped me get past all my insecurities."

Colton swallowed a lump forming in his throat. "That's really good. I'm glad he makes you happy."

"I just wish you could find someone," Chantale said. "And I think you have, but you're just not willing to admit it."

He was about to ask what she meant when Dorrie stepped back into the room. "Belinda is out of the coma."

He wasn't fooled as there was very little emotion in his partner's voice. "What's the bad news?"

"They haven't been able to determine the extent of any brain damage. They may not be able to for several days or even longer."

"But she's out of the coma," Chantale repeated. "That's got to be good."

"It means her autonomic functions are working." To Chantale's confused look, he clarified, "she's able to breathe on her own and her heart is beating. Those are good, but that doesn't mean she'll regain her cognitive functions."

"You've seen this before," Chantale observed.

Dorrie nodded. "Kennedy Dixon had a patient recently who tried to commit suicide. His mother found him in time to save his life, but the brain damage was done. His parents decided to take him off life support and donate his organs."

Chantale paled. "You would think I should know about such things, but I don't."

"You're a defence attorney," Dorrie pointed out. "You don't have a lot of clients trying to kill themselves." She turned to Colton. "You look like shit."

Since Dorrie didn't swear very often, Colton knew it was bad. "I took my painkillers," he began.

She didn't look convinced.

Chantale pulled out her cellphone and before Colton could protest, sent a text. He sighed. "I think you're both overreacting."

"So if we turned on the lights you would be fine," Dorrie asked.

How had she known?

"Okay, probably not," he said reluctantly.

Chantale's phone pinged. She glanced at the screen. "Jocelyne and Claudette will be here in twenty minutes. They just got finished with their swim lessons so they're in town already."

Just what he needed, he thought, a doctor and a baby. Surely that was the beginning to some terrible joke.

"And I would love to wait," Chantale said, "but I have the meeting with Catriona over in Abbotsford in less than an hour, so I have to go."

"I'll stay," Dorrie said.

"Don't you have to work," Colton asked churlishly.

Dorrie shook her head. "Greg gave me the day off because he knew you would be stubborn about this. My job is to keep you in bed for the day."

A statement which could be interpreted in so many ways, Colton thought, grateful his partner meant it in the platonic sense. He watched as Chantale stood then leaned over to place a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back," and before he could protest, she was gone.

Dorrie took up the place she had vacated, sitting next to Colton on the side of the bed. Then she took his right hand in hers. Her hands were so delicate and tiny yet they were strong, Colton knew.

"This has to be killing you," she said quietly.

Again, he found himself swallowing the lump in his throat. "I feel responsible, Dorrie. If I hadn't had sex with her then maybe none of this would have happened."

"What do you think about Ross?"

Colton contemplated. "If he drugged and raped Belinda then chances are he's done it before. We need to find another victim because I think she was telling the truth."

"And we'll never get him if we don't find someone else," Dorrie said. "So we're in agreement on this."

He nodded. "Yes, my gut has always told me she was telling the truth. Even when she lied about me, I didn't really question her first accusation."

"Which makes you a good man, Colton, because I would think it would have changed your mind about everything. And now that she's recanted about your attack on her, we'll never get a conviction on Ross."

"Agreed," Colton said. "So how are we going to nail the guy?"

"I'm thinking undercover," Dorrie said. "And I'll bet Bonnie will be up for it. She's not known in town, unlike myself and most of the other female cops."

"Have Greg clear it with...what was her Captain's name?"

"Harper Turner," Dorrie supplied. Her brow furrowed. "You're not doing well, are you?"

"I forgot one name," Colton said, shifting then wincing. "I want to let loose and curse a blue streak, but there's a lady in the room."

Dorrie smiled as there was a knock on the door. "While I'm out of the room, go ahead and swear to your heart's content."

And he did just that as soon as his partner left the room. Dorrie had heard him swear, of course, but he wasn't someone who used expletives without justification. He didn't swear just because he could.

Dorrie re-entered holding a very content Claudette, Jocelyne hard on her heels. She placed her medical bag on the bed and, without ceremony, stuck a thermometer in Colton's mouth.

Colton watched as Claudette made a grab for Dorrie's long blonde locks. Dorrie's hair was several shades darker than Jocelyne's pale tone, but they were both real blondes. But with more than half a foot difference, Dorrie looked positively petite next to the doctor.

Eventually, Jocelyne removed the thermometer, but had to squint in the low light.

"Dorrie says you have a headache."

Colton glared at his partner who just continued to bounce the baby on her hip. He turned back to Jocelyne. "Yes, it hurts. Given what I've been through, it's hardly surprising."

"Still, I don't like it." Jocelyne put her thermometer away and pulled out her stethoscope.

"Is that really necessary?"

She was already pulling down the sheet to reveal his naked chest. She instructed him to breathe here, hold his breath there, and whatever else it was that she was doing. Then she took a look at his arm. "I'm sorry, Colton, but I need to turn on the light." There was diffuse light which had been coming through the shears on his windows but because it was another rainy day, there wasn't much illumination. "I can get you a cold pack to put over your eyes if that would help."

"Doc, I don't think anything is going to help," he grumbled, "so go ahead and turn on the lights." Still, he shielded his eyes when she flicked on the lamp.

She started to poke his arm and he damn nearly flew off the bed. He grit his teeth.

"When did you take the painkiller?"

"When Chantale arrived," he answered, trying to deal with the pain.

"I'm going to give you a shot," Jocelyne told him. "Your arm is inflamed and you're running a low-grade fever."

Colton may not know much about medicine, but even he knew this was bad.

"I want someone with you at all times. If the pain gets worse or you become delusional, I want you in the hospital. You may need intravenous antibiotics."

"No hospitals," he said, not caring if there was a whiny tone in his voice.

"I can stay," Dorrie said. "Greg gave me the day off."

"You need to talk to Bonnie," Colton said. "And you're not inviting her here, just in case you were considering that."

"Bonnie can wait a day," Dorrie argued. "You can't."

"I'll stay," came a quiet voice from the door. Colton didn't have to open his eyes to recognize that voice. Great, he thought, this day was just getting better and better.

"I'll go over what you need to know," Jocelyne said. "Why don't we go out into the kitchen and I'll get you to write it down."

"Okay." With that, the two women were gone.

Colton still hadn't opened his eyes, but he could hear his godchild gurgling. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Spring?" Dorrie snickered. "Oh yeah, she's a looker. Looks a lot like your ex-wife, though, so I don't know how I feel about that."

"I was referring to Claudette."

"Oh, well, yeah, she's cute too. Almost makes me want to have one of my own."

Despite the intense pain, Colton cracked an eye open. Just in time to catch a wistful look cross Dorrie's face. It was fleeting, but it was there. "I didn't know you wanted kids," he said. "I mean I guess I should have, but I never really thought about it. We've never talked about it."

There was a small sad smile. "In order to have a child, I would need to have a husband."

And although Colton was scrupulous about respecting his partner's privacy, he knew there hadn't been anyone for as long as they had known each other.

Then, she seemed to recover herself. Until she said, "what about you? You want kids?"

Colton swallowed. This was a deep conversation for such a moment, Spring and Jocelyne being just down the hall. Did he want kids? He flashed to Lola and his stomach twisted. "I thought I did once," he answered honestly, "but that was a long time ago."

"Belinda might have gotten pregnant," Dorrie pointed out.

"Please don't remind me," Colton said quietly.

"They gave her the morning after pill along with the other cocktail of drugs to prevent the transmission of STIs," Dorrie reminded him. "But what would you have done?"

"The right thing," Colton said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was always willing to do the right thing."

Dorrie looked like she wanted to say more when Jocelyne and Spring came back into the room. Claudette let out a little howl when she saw her mother and was reaching out as Jocelyne scooped her into her arms. She pressed a kiss to her daughter's temple and Colton felt something painful lance through him.

"Dorrie, if you're leaving, can you grab my bag," Jocelyne asked. "I need to get this little one to her grandparents' place so she can go down for her nap."

"You're working," Colton said. "You shouldn't have come by."

"Now or at the hospital," Jocelyne said. "Now, I need you to drop your drawers."

His partner actually giggled. It was an odd sound coming from a woman who could fell a perp with a mere look. "We'll leave," she said.

"Oh, Spring's going to be giving the injection," Jocelyne said. "It's pretty simple and since she's going to be here for the next day or so, it makes sense for her to learn."

"Is this ethical," Colton asked. "I mean doesn't it break some kind of medical rule?"

"Not hardly," Jocelyne said. "It's not a vein injection, just a large muscle. Even with your taut ass, I'm sure she'll be able to find your gluteus maximus."

Again, Dorrie giggled. "Okay, well since I don't need to know how to do this, I'm out of here. I'll drop by later or call after I talk to Bonnie, okay?"

"Okay," Colton said on a sigh. "You're sure you don't want to stay for the show?"

"I've seen your ass, Colton, and it's not something I want to repeat. Later." With that she was gone.

And before Colton could object, Spring was climbing onto his bed, pulling down the sheets and pushing him onto his side. For such a lithe woman, she sure was strong. He had to learn to stop underestimating her, he thought. Then she yanked down his underwear, took the syringe from Jocelyne, and stuck it in his ass. There was a quick sting, of course, but it didn't last long. Then she was grabbing his hip and easing him back to the mattress. She pulled up the sheets and her hand lingered for just a moment on his chest. Well, it seemed to linger. Colton couldn't be sure because the next moment she was off the bed and back at the doctor's side.

"I've given her pre-measured syringes which she's to administer every six hours," Jocelyne said. "I'm also leaving her my thermometer since you don't seem to have one."

Of course he didn't have one. He never got sick. This was becoming almost too much to bear.

"If your temp gets above 101 then she's going to call me. Over 103 and she's calling an ambulance. Okay?"

"Do I get any say in this," he asked, already knowing the answer.

"104 and you're risking seizures, delusions, and brain damage, so no, you don't get a say in this," Jocelyne replied tartly. When she did that, she sounded so much like Chantale that Colton wanted to smile. It was also moments like this when her French Canadian accent was stronger. Get the woman mad and her accent could be so thick it was hard to understand her, Seth had told him once. So his friend worked hard to keep his wife happy and avoid unintelligible tirades.

"We'll be fine," Spring assured Jocelyne. "You get Claudette to a crib. Dorrie's waiting for you."

"I would suggest you might want to lock the door," Jocelyne said, "but that would just be a waste of time, wouldn't it?"

"We'll be fine," Spring said again.

Jocelyne offered them a genuine smile and then headed out. Colton breathed a long sigh of relief.

"Care to share?" There was a tinge of humour in Spring's voice.

"Earlier I might have been quoted as saying the Baldwin sisters are almost as stubborn as the Dixon sisters, but after this morning, I think Chantale and Jocelyne could give you and your sisters a run for their money."

"Poor baby," Spring cooed. "All these women worrying about you. I don't know how you've survived under all the mothering."

Colton sighed. "I sound unappreciative, don't I? I'm not ungrateful although I may be ungracious. It's just that I hate this."

"No one blames you, Colton. I think any of us would be frustrated if we were laid up with forty stitches in our arm and a bucket-load of pain."

"Are the pain meds going to make me drowsy? I didn't even think to ask Doc about the side effects. "

"No worries," Spring said. "She took me through everything I need to know. Your only job is to heal." She pointed to the arm which was now under the sheet. "I can't believe you drove me to the hospital with that."

Colton tried to wave her off. "The t-shirt kept the mess to a minimum, so it was no big deal."

"And you saved her life."

He felt that wave of nausea which came every time he thought about just how close they had come to losing Belinda. "She's out of the coma," he said.

"I heard," Spring said, sitting on the spot where, so far, Chantale, Dorrie and Jocelyne had all taken up residence. Any other man would be giddy with all the female attention, but Colton wasn't like that. He didn't bring women into the inner sanctum of his apartment. It was meticulous, of course, as was everything in his place, but he wasn't comfortable with the intimacy required to bring a woman to his bed. No, he preferred the woman's bed. But now, having Spring here, he was rethinking that assertion.

And if she had any idea which direction his thoughts were veering, she would run. At least he thought she would run. She should run, he told himself. Because if there was one woman he couldn't have, it was Spring Dixon.

"Jocelyne said you need rest," Spring said. "I'll turn off the light and go into the family room. Oh, that reminds me, do you have Wi-Fi?"

"I do."

"What's the code?"

Colton arched an eyebrow.

"I won't tell anyone," Spring assured him.

He chuckled. "That's not what I'm worried about. I'm just worried about how much trouble you can get into while on my internet connection."

"I promise not to download porn."

Unbidden, a laugh bubbled up in his chest. "That's hardly a concern for me."

"So you already download porn?"

"Well, I didn't say that..."

She waved him off. "Really none of my concern."

"I don't, if it really matters. After what I see all day, do you really think I could look at anything which might objectify women? I'm sure there's consensual porn out there, but it holds no interest for me."

Spring swallowed visibly. "I was just making a joke, Colton. I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know you didn't," he assured her. "But it's important you know important things about me."

"Why is that?" She looked genuinely baffled.

"You're planning to write about me," he said. "That thought makes my skin crawl."

She frowned. "You think I would take something said or done in this apartment and use it in a story? That's just harsh. I mean, wow, you really don't have a high opinion of me, do you?"

He cringed. "Okay, maybe that was insensitive of me. It's just that I know you've been talking to people about me and that makes me unbelievably uncomfortable."

Her eyes softened. "I think you need to read the story, Colton, and that would allay your fears."

"But I'm not afraid," he said, trying to explain. "I don't like knowing you talked to victims. They've already been through enough."

With weird detachment, he watched as Spring leaned forward and feathered her hand through his hair. As with Chantale earlier, it felt like an intimate gesture. But where he had felt nothing but dispassion with Chantale, Spring's touch had the opposite effect. He reached out to snag her wrist, but when he went to push her away, he found he couldn't. Instead, he tugged her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to her palm. He heard her breath hitch.

"I want to kiss you," she said breathlessly. "Please let me do that."

Her blue eyes were dark with desire and something else which Colton couldn't put his finger on. There were dozens of reasons why this was a bad idea, but he couldn't come up with a single one. So he nodded, giving her silent permission. She scooted towards him as he pulled his good arm from under the sheet. He reached out and feathered her hair as she had done his. She'd left it long and loose today and it hung halfway down her back. His fingers moved to her jaw and he knew the instant she was as lost as he was.

With great care, she placed one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek. If there was pain in his other arm, he no longer felt it. And when Spring slanted her mouth to meet his, he fought for control, but it slipped through his fingers. Her lips were soft, but when she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, all he could think was how badly he had wanted this. Wanted but hadn't aspired to it. Because this was his ex-wife's younger sister.

And as she slid her tongue into his mouth, he realized he would have to shelve thoughts of Sunshine, the other Dixon sisters, the Baldwin sisters, and even Belinda. No, this moment had to be about Spring. So he gave himself over to her completely. He fisted his hand in her hair to bring her even closer to him, revelling in the little sighs and moans coming from her. Her hand on his chest pulled down the sheet so she could run her hand along his sternum and lower still. It came to rest on his abdomen and he was suddenly grateful for all those workouts he did. No, he knew he had a good body and he was pleased with it.

Now, however, he wanted more. He wanted to pull her on top of him or, even better, to pull her under him. He wanted to sink himself into her and let go of all rational thought. He wanted to give in to the sensations and let oblivion reign. He could do none of those things, so he thrust his tongue in her mouth, demanding reciprocity. Their teeth clashed, their tongues parried and, much to his dismay, Colton felt himself reacting. He was a red-blooded male and, of course, he found Spring attractive, but now was about the worst time to get aroused because there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Then the hand which had been resting on his abdomen began to wander even further south. He made an ineffectual grab for her hand, but she was too far out of reach.

She pulled back and gave him a Cheshire grin. "What's this?"

He grit his teeth as her hand slipped under the waistband of his sweat pants, into his boxers, and then encircled him.

"Please, Spring, don't do this."

Instantly, her hand stilled. "Are you asking me to stop?"

Was he? Was he crazy? She was offering him relief and he was about to turn it down.

"Yes please," he said. There was hurt in her eyes and he knew he would have to say something quickly. "Not that I don't want to," he said, "but I really am in a lot of pain. I want the first time to be special, you know?"

Her eyebrow quirked. "You're not going to remember any of this anyway, so why turn down what I'm offering?"

"I'm not going to remember...?"

"Side effect of the painkiller. Any minute now, you're going to fall asleep and all this will just be a hazy memory. Jocelyne warned me not to take anything you say seriously because it's just the drugs."

"So if I told you I wanted you...?"

"Just the drugs," she supplied unhelpfully.

He grit his teeth. "But I do want you. And, what's more, I think you want this too."

"More than you'll ever know," she said, her grin slipping. "But I would never touch someone who didn't want it. If you're asking me to stop, then I'll stop."

"I thought Doc told me you couldn't believe anything I said."

That elicited a chuckle. "Oh, I don't think those drugs are working because you are way too lucid."

"You were going to...you know, do whatever it was that you were going to do on a man who is on drugs?"

"Since you weren't going to remember, I thought I might indulge in one of my fantasies."

Her fantasies? He was in her fantasies? Well, that was fair, since she made up a good portion of his.

"When I'm better and if you still want, then okay."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're serious? You really want me?"

What was not to want? Yet, in that moment, he saw her vulnerability. For such a brazen woman, she seemed, in this moment, very insecure. "Who wouldn't want you, Spring?"

And, just like that, she shut down. She pulled her hand away and rose from the bed. "Of course," she said, "how silly of me. Just another Dixon sister."

Damn, that was not what he had meant to say. He wasn't even sure it was what he had said. "I may be high on drugs, but I know who I want and that woman is Spring. I'm very well aware of who I was kissing."

She still looked wary.

"What can I say to make this okay?"

"If you remember this conversation when you wake up, then we'll talk about it."

"You're saying I'm going to fall asleep?"

She gave him a curt nod and he realized he'd been fighting unconsciousness for several minutes now. But he wanted to stay awake, he thought. He wanted to stay awake and convince her that she was wrong. Then he realized he was losing the battle. Within moments, he was gone.