Page 33 of Keeping His Brat

Sam ignored him, tuning his voice out entirely as his still fuzzy brain tried to sort out how to get the rail out of his way. It didn’t seem to have a latch he could reach. He was considering scooting down to the bottom of the bed and making his escape that way when he was interrupted.

“Excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?” A sharp voice of authority sounded from the doorway and caught his attention.

“Look, I need to get up and go find Charlie. Knowing her she’s going to think I’m dead or something if she can’t check on me herself.” He tried to be patient; he really did. Neither of them was listening and both seemed intent on wrestling him back into the bed.

He was determined to get up. They had decided he wasn’t in his right mind and were trying to keep him in bed. If he hadn’t been weak as a newborn kitten, he could have brushed them off easily, but his arms felt like floppy noodles. Even sitting up was hard.

Exhausted was what he was, and worn out too. But he wasn’t dumb, and he knew Charlie. He didn’t know why she’d been so anxious about him being sick, but he did know that she was still grieving over her father. It didn’t take a huge mental leap to see the connection.

So, she was out there somewhere freaking out. Probably convinced he was going to die, even though he was perfectly fine. A wave of dizziness hit him hard, and he slumped back against the pillow with a groan.Well, maybe not perfectly fine.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you’re in no condition to get up. We don’t even know what’s wrong with you yet except that your temp is nearing 104. You are dangerously dehydrated, and I can hear the chest congestion from here. Now, stop fighting us and let us help you!” The order was snapped off sharply.

The crisp demand reminded him of his father, who had been a sergeant in the army before he’d turned to ranching. He’d never lost that way of issuing orders like he expected them to be obeyed immediately. It was a technique Sam had tried to emulate as foreman.

She was clearly in charge and used to people listening to her. Sam was also used to being obeyed so it was obvious they were going to clash.

He scowled. “Look, I’ll be happy to let you do your medical stuff, as soon as I find her.” It sounded placating but he was starting to get the idea that he wouldn’t be able to stand even if he was able to get past them.

“Find who?” The doctor turned to the orderly and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I told him I’d go ask about her as soon as I did the bloodwork, but we didn’t get that far.” He shot Sam an accusatory look.

Sam glared back, not even slightly intimidated. “And I told you I wanted to make sure she was okay first.”

“That’s not how—”

“Both of you stop it!” The doctor’s voice rose and cut through the bickering. For a second there was silence. “That’s better.” She went to the doorway and called a nurse over for some quick instructions.

When she returned, she gave Sam a stern look. “They’re going to check the waiting room to see if she’s here. If not, we can make a call for you, but first you need to settle down. All this exertion could be dangerous for you in your condition.”

Sam couldn’t deny he felt like a sack of crap that had been run over twice. He doubted he could have gotten out of bed at this point anyway, but he was determined to see Charlie. Being stubborn seemed to get things moving at least.

“Now that we’ve sent for her will youpleaselie back down and let us do our jobs?” The doctor emphasized the request with a bit of a sarcastic bite.

Sam had a feeling she wasn’t used to people ignoring her orders. Truthfully, he wanted to give in. It would be easier to just close his eyes and drift back into the peace of sleep. His head was throbbing, and his vision kept doubling.

But he didn’t like being pushed around. “I thought you had a patient’s rights thing where I could refuse care?” His brain wasn’t working right, but he remembered pretty clearly that Jimmy had been told something about that.

She sighed. “Mr. Mason, you have a fever that’s high enough to cause delirium. Since you were brought in you’ve ranted about ‘devil horses’ and tried to place an order for wings. I can’t even be sure the Charlie you’re so desperate to see is real.”

Her hand went up to rub the bridge of her nose. “We can and will do the minimum amount of care to get you more stable and coherent. Then, if you choose, you can refuse further care and I will happily boot your butt out of my ER.” There was a hardcore no nonsense tone to the words that made it clear she wasn’t kidding.

He had to respect that. “Fine. Okay. But I’m going to fight you until I know where Charlie is, so probably easier if we just wait and see if they find her.”

From the way her face darkened and her eyes narrowed, it was clear the doctor was rapidly reaching the end of her patience. Even the orderly was giving her the nervous side-eye.

“Mr. Mason.” Both words were bit off hard like it took effort to force his name out.

“Nope. Not until I see Charlie,” Sam repeated, trying to sound just as determined. “She’s going to be out of her mind worried about me.” He tried, again, to sit up. It took a lot of effort, even with one hand grabbing the rails.

Then he heard Charlie’s voice, sharp and irritated as she demanded to know what he was doing. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway with both hands on her hips. There was a pinched look around the mouth that said she was angry, but under that he could see a mix of other emotions. Relief maybe?

If so, it was reciprocal. The second he saw her and knew she was okay he was able to relax. The last of his energy deserted him and he settled back on the pillows and stopped fighting the doctor. Charlie came over to hold his hand and he barely noticed when the orderly took his blood.

“I was worried about you,” he said, looking up at her. The words came out tired sounding, maybe a little slurred. He’d used up so much energy trying to get out of the bed that there was very little left.

“You were worried about me?” Her eyebrow went up with the incredulous tone. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”

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