The Bride's Curse by Glenys O'Connell Page B

her fingers and toes, and everything felt intact. She doubted dead people could feel like that.
    If only that demon, whoever he was, would stop shining that light …
    As if her thoughts had communicated themselves to the demon, the light clicked off to reveal a pleasant looking man with café au lait skin and sad eyes. “Hello, Ms. Andrews. I’m glad you are back with us. It seems you had a fainting session. I am Paramedic Abbas Faheem.” He offered her a quick smile and turned his attention to the screen on his equipment pack.
    Kelly squinted now that the light was gone. She took in her surroundings, realizing she was home and lying on the lumpy settee in her own living room, not that Other Place. The heat, the sand, the sound of gunfire were all gone.
    “Can you tell me what happened, Red?” A familiar voice. And an annoying name. She tried for a cutting answer, but all that came out was a croak.
    “Unless I miss my guess, it would appear to me that Ms. Andrews is experiencing some recurrent pain from a wound she acquired while serving her country.” Abbas Faheem cast another small smile her way. “I communicated with the doctor on duty at the hospital, who checked your records. You have a history of headaches after a serious head wound. How is your vision?”
    “I can see perfectly well, now that you’ve turned that darned light off.” Kelly struggled to sit up. “Abbas Faheem—the clever lion. Abbas is a lion, Faheem is intelligent. Funny the things that stick in your mind. I couldn’t remember much of my Arabic, but that came back without even thinking about it. Are you a clever lion, Abbas Faheem?”
    “Right now, Ms. Andrews, I’m just a lowly paramedic, once an army medic, who is pleased to see that his patient is well on her way to recovery.”
    “Why do you think that’s a shrapnel wound?” That familiar voice again.
Brett!
Yes, it was the man she’d been walking with … wearing his jacket … holding hands…
    “Because I’m sad to say I have seen many such wounds, also while serving this country of ours.” The paramedic turned back to Kelly. “Your vital signs are back to normal, but I’d like you to rest, and tomorrow report to your own doctor. He will take blood tests and will likely arrange for you to have x-rays. Sometimes it can happen that a tiny sliver of bone, or maybe metal from the shrapnel, can lodge in the brain and not be easily noticed in the early days following the injury, due to brain swelling. If these fainting events become more frequent, the doctor will get you a referral to a specialist, just to get it all checked out. I wish you both a good day.”
    Faheem waved a salute and, with a weary smile, left them.
    Kelly was flooded with thankfulness for all the caring people in this small town, people like Abbas Faheem, the medic who had served his country like she had, and for Brett Atwell, who stood beside her wearing a concerned expression and looking as if he would be willing to take on dragons to protect her.
    • • •
    “I’m not sure what happened, Brett.” It was the truth. After all, she wasn’t sure she really saw a ghost, was she?
    They were still in Kelly’s eclectically furnished living room, nursing cups of hot tea.
    “You were just about to invite me in for a nightcap after our dinner when you suddenly went white as a sheet, grabbed at your head, and collapsed. Fortunately, you had your door key in your hand, so I carried you inside and called the emergency services.”
    “Thank you for being so … kind.”
    Brett shrugged as if it were nothing. “I could hardly leave you in a heap on your laneway now, could I? I was brought up better than that. Of course, I’m used to women falling at my feet but … ”
    “Don’t flatter yourself, buster. How long … ?”
    “How long were you out?” He glanced at the handsome watch he wore on his left wrist. “Looks like at least one of us got her beauty sleep. It was about ten o’clock when I called the