Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

to the window. “The nurse is a real nag, though.”
    “Nurse?” she retorted, pulling the down comforter up to his chin. “I’m the doctor or I don’t play, remember? And as doctor, I think you should—”
    “Relax,” Archer interrupted. He set down a pitcher of juice and a glass on the bedside table. “Like the real doc said, Kyle is fine as long as he keeps guzzling fluids that don’t have alcohol or caffeine in them.”
    “Easy for you to say,” Honor said, glaring up-way up-at her oldest brother. “You’re not the one in bed.”
    Archer smiled wearily. “I’d like to be.”
    He looked it, with his rumpled outdoor clothes, dark beard stubble, and grim lines on either side of his mouth. He had his mother’s black hair and his father’s eyes, a mixture of gray and blue and green that changed with his clothes or his mood. At the moment Archer’s eyes were almost as dark as the circles beneath them.
    Honor fought against the sympathy she felt for him. Despite the smudges beneath his eyes, he was disgustingly fit and too quick for a little sister’s comfort. His big hands were deft and steady as he poured a glass of juice for Kyle.
    “Quit fretting over him,” Archer said again, setting the glass on the table and turning toward Honor. “He’ll be back to tormenting you in a day. Two, max.”
    “I can’t take it easy! Last night I went to sea in a small boat in a gale, picked my way through horrible little rocks shortly after dawn this morning, watched people holding guns on—”
    “It’s over,” Archer interrupted, giving her a hug that lifted her off her feet. He rocked her from side to side as though she were a little girl again. “Kyle is all right and so are you. Everything’s okay.”
    Honor wanted to keep on snarling at her older brother, but right then he looked every one of his thirty-four years.
    Normally she would have been sympathetic, but she was still simmering from the discovery that Archer, Lawe, and Justin had concealed Kyle’s disappearance from her for two weeks-for her own peace of mind, of course. The fact that he had been on her mind constantly during those very weeks didn’t impress Archer.
    Male logic was a bright red pain.
    “’Take it easy,’” she said scathingly. “’Everything’s fine.’ Yeah, right. Like you. You look like you’ve been pulled through a knothole sideways. When was the last time you slept?”
    Archer put her down, smiled crookedly, and turned away to talk to Kyle. “I got hold of Justin and Lawe. They’ll be here in a few days. The Donovan is flying in tomorrow. Mom dropped her latest project and will be here with paint spatters from hair to heels along with Dad.”
    “Maybe I’ll rethink the hospital,” Kyle said, only half joking. “Dad will be pushing stateside desk jobs again and I’m not up to arguing.”
    Archer handed the glass of juice to Kyle. “Drink up. You’ll need all your wit and reflexes in order to dodge the old man.”
    “Speaking of reflexes, where’s Jay?” Kyle asked. “I still can’t believe how fast he took care of Marju and Pete.”
    “Jay’s with Ellen Lazarus,” Archer said, yawning. “Dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.”
    Kyle shot a quick glance at Honor. “Jay and Ellen are old history.”
    “You can quit but you can’t get out of the game,” Archer said.
    “You ought to know,” Kyle muttered.
    Honor turned to her oldest brother. “You know Ellen?”
    Without answering, Archer reached for the thermos of coffee Honor had made for him. Scolding him the whole time, of course, but still taking care of him.
    “No, Archer doesn’t know Ellen,” Kyle said. “But he knows the game.”
    “Which game?” Honor asked.
    Archer shook the thermos. Empty. He looked hopefully at his sister.
    “Nope,” she said. “I made the first. It’s your turn.”
    “Wait for Jay,” Kyle said instantly. “He makes great coffee.”
    “What do you care?” Archer retorted. “You won’t be drinking any for twenty-four hours.”
    “Just the thought of someone drinking your coffee will be enough to put me in the hospital for sure,” Kyle said.
    “In that case, I will personally feed you the first cup,” Archer promised.
    His easy-moving kind of stride reminded Honor of Jake’s. She frowned, remembering Archer’s description of Jake: . . . moves like a fighter.
    Kyle looked at Honor’s frown. “It really is ancient history with Jay and Ellen.”
    “Jake’s a big boy,” she said,