Disclaimer: Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys do not belong to me; this story gives me no profit but fun. No copyright infringement is intended.
Little Help
Nancy winced as Frank quickly patted her hands with some alcohol-soaked cotton balls, her skin stinging from the medicine.
"Sorry," Frank murmured, a seemingly permanent frown on his brow, his eyes intense as he worked. "Almost done."
She glanced down at her left arm. The sting from the alcohol had by now vanished. Frank had put a small bandage on her arm below the elbow where she had scratched herself as she fell through the boards.
"This really wasn't –," Nancy began.
"Necessary," he said, not looking up at her. "At least now you may no longer fear infections or the like."
"Or splinters."
The corners of Frank's mouth tugged upwards grudgingly. Having finished cleaning her hands, he rose from the chair opposite hers and threw the cotton balls in a nearby trash can. Putting away the first-aid kit, he added, "Joe should have found Ragnar and told him what we discovered by now."
Standing slowly, she sighed, "I know."
For a moment they examined her hands. The palms were still red and a little bruised, but in all they had come through okay.
"You're going to get wrinkles if you continue frowning like that," Nancy commented, noting Frank's expression, lightly tapping his furrowed forehead with her finger.
Frank sighed in turn. "If you keep scaring me so much, my hair will probably turn grey by the time I'm twenty-one." His gaze met Nancy's. His voice lowered, "You did give me a pretty good scare back there, you know."
She swallowed and nodded. "I think I scared myself."
"I guess we should head over to Hewitt's office. See if Joe has anything new to share," Frank suggested after a lengthy silence.
"Yes." Nancy followed him into the hall. "Thanks for the tender loving care." Her cheeks flushed a little.
"Always glad to be of service, Drew," he replied, his smile reaching his eyes.
THE END