Page 29 of Keeping His Brat

So, it was natural that as she was writing up the whole story, she included the part about getting into trouble. And then the resurgence of guilt she felt when Sam came down sick. It was embarrassing to write it out, but it did help her to put everything into context.

By the time she sent the letter she actually felt better about everything. Her chest was loosening and some of the frantic nervous energy was easing. She went to check on Sam to make sure he was sleeping comfortably.

The day still seemed to drag but she had more focus and purpose. She took a nice hot shower, and then settled at her computer to work. The steady tapping sounds filled the cabin for several hours until it got dark outside.

She leaned back, satisfied that she was at a good place to leave off for the day. She saved her file and went to heat up some soup for dinner. As much as she hated to disturb his sleep, Sam needed to get some fluids into him, and soup would be a start.

She went in to wake him once it was ready, so they could have dinner together. She sat on the side of the bed and reached out to gently shake him. “Sam? The soup is ready, and I think you should eat.” There was nothing, not even a mumbled groan.

“Sam?” She gave him another shake. Panic set in and she grabbed his arm, jerking him roughly. “Sam … Sam, wake up.” She wanted to shout the words, but a scared whisper was all she could manage.

Charlie threw herself down across his chest listening for a heartbeat. There was one and it was strong but seemed too fast to her. She would have been relieved except for the fact that his skin against her cheek was far too hot. Dangerously hot.

“Whacha doin, Charlie?” Sam asked, sounding groggy and out of it.

Suddenly she was moving, dashing into the bathroom to run cold water into the tub. She threw all the clean towels into the water. There was an old-fashioned glass thermometer in the medicine cabinet, but she couldn’t wake him up enough to risk putting it in his mouth.

“Why do you have this ancient thing? No one uses these anymore,” she muttered as she set it back on the shelf. But she knew why. Sam hardly ever got sick. It was probably the same thermometer that had been there since he was a kid and he’d never had much reason to upgrade.

With no way of knowing how high the fever was she could only worry and try to get it down. She twisted the towels to wring out the excess water and then returned to the bedroom and tried to cover as much of his body as she could. She hoped the cold damp cloths would help because she didn’t know what else to do.

Finally, she got a reaction from him. It wasn’t a positive sign. He didn’t seem to like the cold at all and tried to push her away. She’d no sooner covered him when he would shove the sodden towels to the floor with a wet splat.

“Sam, we have to get your fever down.” Explaining didn’t seem to help and he continued to resist her.

Sam started talking, but it was all strange rambling statements that didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t understand any of it anymore than he seemed to understand what she was telling him.

She gave up on the wet towels; they didn’t stay on long enough to help. “Sam, we’re going to try to get you into the shower, okay? Can you help me?”

It was no use. He was like dead weight, and she couldn’t even get him to stay awake. He seemed to be aware that she was there because he said her name often enough. It was just that nothing else was getting through.

In the end she gave up and called for an ambulance. The wait was terrible. She held his hand and stayed by his side for as long as she could, but she’d forgotten something important.

When the men left for the day they’d locked the gate, as usual. Now the ambulance was stuck there and couldn’t get in. They called and she had to bite back a scream of frustration as she was forced to leave Sam to go to open the gate.

Chapter 9

She tore out of the house, leaving the front door wide open behind her. It took a few precious seconds to get the truck started, and then she was driving at breakneck speed down the gravel road in the dark. She couldn’t see well enough and several times she went up on the bordering grass. Each time her heart lurched with fear.

It wasn’t enough to slow her down. The thought of how Sam would react if he saw her driving like that crossed her mind. She winced. He’d whoop her ass until she never sat comfortably again if he saw her being so reckless.

Following right up after was the very real fear that he might never be able to do anything about her reckless behavior again. Things had been so good between them. She was getting her life in order. They were planning a future together.

She couldn’t—would not—allow herself to consider the possibility that she was going to lose him now. It was impossible to convince herself it was just a cold at this point. Not when the ambulance was here, but people got sick, and then they got better.All the time. Sam would too.

Her hands shook on the wheel as she did her best to keep the truck on the road until she reached the turn-around area at the gate. She parked and was running for the gate almost before the truck was stopped. Then she skidded to a stop and ran back to grab the keys from the ignition. She needed the copy of the gate key on it, kept in the truck for emergencies.

The delay made her frantic and that made her clumsy. It took two tries to snatch them from the ignition because the truck was still running. Then she almost fell over her feet as spun around the race for the gate.

She was sure she was putting on a whole slapstick routine for the people in the ambulance. Especially since their headlights were giving her a pair of spotlights to stagger around in, but her embarrassment was the least of her worries.

She was convinced that every second she wasted was putting Sam in more danger. A little voice whisperedIt will be your fault. Your fault. Your fault if… in the back of her head. Her numb hands fumbled with the lock for an eternity before the key slid home with a click.

She pulled hard on the gate and then moved out of the way and let it swing wide. She ran back to the truck and jumped in, leading the way back to Sam. While Charlie knew the road well enough to drive fast, the ambulance didn’t. It seemed to take forever as it followed, and she kept stopping to let it catch up.

Finally, the cabin was in sight. Charlie sped up, figuring the lights shining brightly from the windows and the open door would guide them in. She was too worried about Sam to wait a second longer and dashed into the house to check on him.

He was exactly the same. No better, but not worse either. Sprawled on the bed in just his boxers, his skin should have been glistening with sweat from the fever, but it was dry. His eyes were shut, lips parched and cracking. He continued to talk to the air and was saying the weirdest things as she entered the room and sat next to him on the bed.

---