Page 22 of Kent's Honor
The rich hazelnut scent floated from the dark coffee. Dixie inhaled deeply, letting the aroma fill her lungs, waking her up from what had been a restless sleep. Jackie always did the overnights at her house, but Kent suggested they stay at his based on Nicky’s meltdown, and she had to agree.
Only she hadn’t anticipated having to smell the combination of fresh palm trees mixed with a hefty dose of pure masculinity all night long while she tried to sleep in his bed. And when she did get a few moments of slumber, her dreams were filled with him climbing between the sheets, caressing her body, and his glorious lips sprinkling sweet kisses all over her skin.
Sipping the scalding dark liquid, she stared out the front window with her feet tucked up under her butt on the sofa. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky had started to lighten from black to a cobalt blue.
“Dixie, I don’t feel so good.” Elle stood at the opening between the kitchen and the family room, her hand over her stomach.
“Come lie on the sofa with me.”
But before Elle could take two steps, her face turned white. “I’m going to be sick,” Elle said with wide eyes just before she barfed all over herself.
Dropping the mug to the ground, Dixie raced across the room, knocking over the lamp to get to the gagging child, sidestepping the vomit on the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She put her arms around Elle, her nightgown soaked with perspiration.
“I’m sorry,” Elle said with a weak voice.
“Don’t be sorry. You must have the stomach bug. I hear it’s going around.”
“My stomach hurts so bad.”
Dixie lifted the gown off and rested her hand on Elle’s forehead. “You have a fever.”
Elle’s stomach made a loud gurgling sound as she dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach, throwing up once more, her body shaking as she rolled to her side.
Dixie fumbled for the first aid kit in the linen closet. Kent had mentioned he had those strip things that would take her temperature across her forehead.
Elle moaned on the ground, her pasty body covered in sweat. This was no ordinary stomach bug.
The strip read 104.6.
Fuck.
“I need to get my phone, okay, Elle? I’ll be right back.” Dixie raced through the house, slipping on the puke twice, but she didn’t care. Her hands shook as she quickly shot off a message to Kent, but she knew this needed more. She hit 9-1-1, sitting on the floor next to Elle, cradling her head in her lap.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“I’ve got a ten-year-old girl with a fever of 104.6 and she’s vomiting and has horrible stomach cramps. It came on while she was sleeping…”
Elle’s body convulsed.
Dixie did her best to get the girl to toss her cookies in the trash can.
“She’s throwing up nonstop, though it’s more dry heaving at this point.”
Elle screamed out in pain.
“Is her stomach sore to the touch?” the dispatcher asked.
Dixie rested her shaky hand on Elle’s belly, and she cried out again.
“Yes,” Dixie said.
“We’ll dispatch an ambulance. Stay on the line with me until they arrive, okay?”
“Sure.” Dixie gave the woman on the other end the address. She tucked the phone to her ear and lifted Elle into her arms. “Is there any way you can get a message Kent Carter? He’s a firefighter. I’ve got his station number here.”
“We can do that,” the dispatcher said.
“He’s her father.”
