Contemporary romantic suspense based in Nevada and Portland, Oregon
Uncle John rubbed his hand over his bald head. “When he regains consciousness, he’s not going to sign for any surgery; you know that too, don’t you?“I suppose it’ll be a problem.”
“I’m worried, Katy girl."
“I am too.” She thought of Dill’s mental attitude and instinctively knew if wanting to live was a part of his survival, he wouldn’t make it.
“I don’t know what we can do."
“You know why I told them you were his fiancée?"
“I guess to get in to see him.”
“It’s so you can sign for him to have that surgery.”
“A fiancée can’t sign for something like that.”
“A wife could.”
She stared blankly at him. “I’m not his wife.”
“You could be.” Uncle John took a gulp of his coffee. "If you were his wife, things'd be different,. You could bring in any kind of specialist or in a few hours fly Dill in one of your daddy’s jets to whatever hospital it took to get him well. You could do whatever need be, him wanting it or not.
"But I'm not his wife," she repeated.
He stared at her, opened his mouth, shut it, and then smiled. "That could be changed real fast."
"What are you suggesting--that we lie about it? They would find out."
"I was thinking something simpler. Why don’t you marry him?"
She felt her mouth drop open. "Dill is unconscious. How would that be simpler?” She managed a laugh.
"It doesn't have to be a real marriage, Katy girl. Just long enough to get him on his feet again. Then you annul it."
"If Dill isn’t able to sign for surgery right now, how could he agree to get married?" she asked, trying to stop her head from whirling.
“People who have been in such situations have been married before. Nobody here knows he wasn’t planning it before this all happened. Surgeons are more persnickety about how alert someone is when they sign the paper than some I know who can do the marrying.”