by J. H. Croix
“I’ll be right there.”
I didn’t wait for her reply, and the line went dead in my ear. Reaching her house in minutes, I was relieved when the door opened as I turned the knob, concern following instantly. If I could walk right in, so could Bruce. But that was something to worry about at another time.
Henry greeted me, circling my legs quickly. Glancing across the room, I saw Rachel stretched out on the couch. She had two blankets piled on top of her. From across the room, I could see the fevered flush on her skin. I strode quickly to her. In the minutes since we’d been on the phone, she’d fallen asleep.
My heart squeezed, worry spinning inside. Just as I was debating whether or not to wake her, her eyes flickered open, her gaze glassy and tired. “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming over,” she mumbled.
I held a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. “Have you taken anything for that fever?” I asked softly.
Henry joined me at the edge of the couch, pressing the entire side of his body against it and angling his head across her thigh. His tail thumped against the cushion.
“I took some Ibuprofen, but it’s been a few hours. You didn’t have to come over,” she said as she tried to sit up before collapsing back into the couch.
“I’m not going anywhere. When’s last time you had something to eat or drink?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sounding defeated.
Her lips were dry and cracked. Giving a quick squeeze along her forearm, I rose and walked back across the room. After hanging up my jacket, I checked the thermostat by the door, realizing she probably hadn’t even noticed the heat was low.
After turning it up, I investigated in the kitchen. My mama had insisted I learn to cook, so I was pretty handy around the kitchen. I figured I could at least whip up some chicken soup.
I managed to find a package of chicken breasts in the freezer, along with some onions and garlic. After making some tea and carrying it over to the couch, I fetched two Ibuprofen from the bathroom and helped prop her up on some pillows. She managed to take a few sips and swallow down the pills. I hoped they would help with the fever.
“You okay if I take Henry out for a little bit?” I asked when she appeared conscious enough to answer.
She nodded. “Please do. I’m sure he’s feeling stir-crazy. This knocked me out yesterday and it’s just worse today.”
I hated seeing her like this. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to her forehead before straightening again. Henry had heard his name and was spinning excitedly around my feet.
“You want the TV on?”
She carefully took another sip of tea, gripping the mug tightly in her hands. “Might as well.”
Her breath had a little rattle to it as I turned away. I found the remote on the floor and turned the TV on before handing it to her. I knew she enjoyed watching the house repair shows and cooking shows, so I selected one of the cooking channels. I figured if she stayed awake, she could pick whatever she wanted.
“Come on, buddy,” I said to Henry as I strolled across the living room and slipped my boots back on.
Once we were outside, all I did was stand in one place and throw the ball over and over and over again for Henry. He was near crazed with energy once we were out there, running like a wild dog, his tongue flapping as he raced back to me every time.
His pattern was to fetch for a little bit and then pause to take a bathroom break in the trees. He instantly returned to me, dropping the ball at my feet, and we set off on another round of fetch. When he finally started to slow and tire, I took him inside and fed him dinner. Rachel’s eyes opened when we came in, and she lifted her fingers in a wave. Otherwise, she barely moved.
After Henry had dinner, I got to work. I chopped up the onions and garlic and sautéed them as I thawed the chicken in some hot water. I could whip up a batch of chicken stew and dumplings easily. Beyond the onions and garlic, there weren’t many vegetables to choose from, so I went with a bag of mixed frozen vegetables in the freezer. After I seasoned the stew with tarragon, pepper, and a dash of salt, I made dumplings and let them simmer on the top.
I heard something resembling a croak from the living room and glanced over to see Rachel trying to get off the couch.
“Don’t move,” I called over. “I’m bringing you a bowl of soup.”
“I have to pee,” she muttered with a laugh that turned into a hacking cough.
After turning the burner off under the soup, I walked over. She made it halfway across the room, but paused when she started coughing again.
“Have you called Charlie?” I asked as I steadied her with an arm around her waist.
“She knows I’m sick because I called out of work. It’s just a cold,” Rachel managed, in between harsh coughs.
“Maybe so, but it sounds pretty bad.”
“I’m not taking antibiotics. Plus, Charlie won’t give them to me anyway. They’ve been way overprescribed. The best thing for a cold is rest and fluids,” she said on the heels of a ragged breath.
“I wasn’t suggesting you take antibiotics. Just thinking maybe somebody should take a look.”
She straightened and took a few more steps. I decided I didn’t give a damn if it pissed her off. I was helping her walk to the bathroom. It was clear she was weak and unsteady on her feet.
After we got through the door, she looked up at me. “You’re not staying to watch me pee,” she announced with a lift of her chin.
I chuckled, relieved to see her attitude assert itself. “Wasn’t planning on it, but I’ll be right outside the door.”
With a roll of her eyes, she shuffled past me. I stepped out, pulling the door shut and leaning against the wall nearby. Henry lifted his head from where he had settled in on his favorite chair beside the couch, and I could see the concern in his eyes. I didn’t give a damn if some people thought it was crazy, but I knew dogs could sense things. It was clear Henry was aware his human wasn’t feeling too good.
After a few minutes, I heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. The door opened, and Rachel stood there, looking as if the exertion of walking to the bathroom had wiped her out all over again. The underlying feverish tint was bright on her pale skin. I hoped her fever would start to go down soon.
She didn’t resist my help with walking back across the room. After I got her situated on the couch, making sure the pillows propped her up and the blankets were tucked around her legs, I straightened.
“I don’t know what you made, but it smells really good. That’s saying something because I can’t smell much,” she said, her voice raspy and tired.
I grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Chicken stew with dumplings. It’s coming right up.”
She pointed me to a folding tray, which I set up beside her. After I delivered a bowl of soup to her, along with more tea, I filled a bowl for myself and joined her on the couch.
“Oh my God,” she mumbled, between bites, “This is amazing. I wish my taste buds were working a little better because it’s delicious, and I can’t even really taste it.”
“Good. You need to get something in you.”
After she ate, she leaned back into the pillows with a sigh, her eyes closing. I returned to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and put everything away. I had made enough soup to last her for a few more days. Her eyes opened again when I sat down on the couch beside her.
“You’re going to get sick if you stay,” she said before she began coughing harshly again.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. If I’m gonna get sick, I’ll get sick, but I’m not leaving you alone like this. Plus, Henry needs someone to walk him.”
I tacked that last bit on because I figured she would worry more about Henry than herself.
A rattling sigh escaped. “You’re right. Thanks for taking him out.”
She drifted into sleep while the television rumbled low in the background. Meanwhile, I wasn’t going anywhere until she felt better.
Chapter T
hirty-One
Rachel
At some point during the night, I awoke, my own cough jolting me out of sleep. For a moment, I was disoriented. Then, I realized I was burrowed against Remy’s chest with the blankets tucked over both of us. Before he arrived last night, I’d been having those awful feverish shivers where I couldn’t quite get the heat to seep through my body, even though I was hot from the fever.
Held fast against him, his body a bulwark of strength and heat, I was finally warm all the way through. The worst of the feverish feeling had passed, although I knew that was likely due to the Ibuprofen. I could still feel the fever under the surface, waiting to break through.
I was so tired and so weak. I hated needing someone, but I was relieved Remy had shown up last night. Lifting my head carefully, I glanced around the room. A light had been left on in the bathroom, likely on purpose, imparting a soft glow into the living room. Henry was sound asleep on his favorite chair. The television was off, and the house was quiet.
Another cough rose up, taking over this time. In a matter of seconds, I was coughing, harsh and deep, barely able to catch my breath. I could feel Remy come awake from the slight tension in his body. “Let me get you some cough medicine.”
I shook my head in between coughs. “Don’t want you to move,” I finally said, feeling vulnerable for even saying it aloud, but too sick to care.
“I’ll be right back.” His hands gently eased me to his side. He slid out from under me and returned a moment later, handing me a small plastic cup filled with a dose of cough medicine. I gulped it down.
“That stuff tastes so yucky,” I rasped.
Remy immediately swapped the empty medicine cup with a glass of water. I sipped it gratefully, chasing away the medicinal flavor in my throat.
“Sure does, but it’ll help with that cough.”
Just like he said, Remy returned to the couch, pulling me back onto his strong chest and tucking the blankets around us. After a few more coughs, I settled against him with a sigh. “Aren’t you hot?” I murmured into his chest.
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
I savored the rumble of his voice against my ear, drifting into sleep and thinking I could get used to this.
Almost a week later, I sat on my couch, absently watching a cooking show. Remy had left because he actually had to work. I had called in to try to persuade the office to let me come in, but Charlie and Doc were adamant I needed to wait until my cough was gone.
They had ignored my argument that I was past the point of contagion. Remy had been gone a mere two days, and I started missing him about an hour after he left. Although I’d been half out of it, it hadn’t slipped my attention that he took damn good care of me when I was at my worst.
Obviously, I would’ve survived without him, but his chicken stew and dumplings had been manna from heaven. His insistence on keeping me supplied with hot tea and checking my fever made my heart ache just thinking about it.
I finally had enough strength to shower last night. After that, I felt close to human. There was nothing left beyond a lingering cough and a little congestion.
Meanwhile, I had no idea what to do. Remy had left for Fairbanks for some training and was scheduled to be gone for three days. He offered to cancel, and yet, I couldn’t let him do that. Although I had wanted to. Badly.
He had been gone for two nights and texted several times a day. I missed him, and I was all a muddle inside. In a little bit, I was leaving to go over for card night at Holly’s place. We used to go to her apartment, but now she was all moved in with Nate. Holly was yet another one of my friends who was madly in love.
I was thrilled for her. It just made me wish I could see a little more clearly when it came to my own love life. With a mental shake, I stood and padded into my bedroom. After a quick shower, I changed into actual clothes.
As I reached my door, my hand pressing lightly on the knob, I glanced back to Henry. “You be a good boy, okay?”
His tail thumped, but in a flash, his entire demeanor shifted. His ears perked up, and he lifted his head, the hair on the back of his neck rising slightly. A sense of fear skated through me, that cold feeling balling in my stomach.
When I glanced outside, I saw a moose ambling across the road into the driveway. I relaxed instantly. I could deal with a moose.
Henry trotted over to the front window, his nose barely clearing the sill as he watched the moose disappear into the trees on the far side of the drive. Stepping away from the door, I walked to Henry, scrubbing behind his ears with my fingers. His tail thumped against my legs as I turned away.
A moose or Bruce, Henry always let me know when someone showed up.
Holly and Nate lived on the other side of Willow Brook from me. As I drove through town, I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a bottle of wine and some chips. I was standing in the aisle, scanning the selection, when a prickle of awareness raced up my spine. Without even turning around, I knew Bruce was here. That old fear was there, but strangely, a sense of calm anger followed.
Turning, I found him standing perhaps ten feet away. He wasn’t looking at me, but I didn’t doubt for a second, he knew I was right here. I took a few steps in his direction. “Bruce, cut the shit,” I said flatly.
He looked up, and I took the moment to observe him. His brown hair was cropped close to his head, and his blue eyes stood out. He was a fit man, and I hated thinking about how he used his strength.
No matter what, he was handsome. I now knew the way I felt when we were first together had been a reaction to nothing more than superficial charm. The initial burst of attraction burned up into ashes and dust when the veneer wore thin.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Rachel. If you call the fucking police on me for being at the grocery store, well, that’s a bunch of bullshit,” he muttered, his gaze flat.
I could feel a familiar vibe in him, the anticipation of my reaction. I knew he was waiting to feed off it. Even though cold fear had knotted in my stomach, I didn’t react. There was nothing left. He was a petty, violent man, but I wasn’t going to allow him to have a hold on me anymore.
A couple turned down into the aisle behind him, talking about something. Meanwhile, at my back, I could hear a mother and her teenage son debating the finer points of which snacks he wanted. I knew the grocery store was filled with people. No matter what had passed between Bruce and me before, I was safe here. That knowledge emboldened me.
“It’s not my responsibility to avoid you. It’s your responsibility to avoid me. If you think, for a second, that by hanging around town, you can get to me, you can’t.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. I could feel him sizing me up and almost felt a slight tinge of surprise from him. I took a slow breath, mentally squaring my shoulders and clinging to the strength I had regained since he’d hurt me.
“I suggest you get the hell out of town. Leave your girlfriend behind and let her have some peace. Willow Brook is small. You won’t be able to shake your history here,” I said.
Bruce was quiet and then he finally muttered something under his breath.
“Excuse me?” I countered.
“Fuck off, Rachel.”
He turned and walked away. I didn’t know how, but somehow, I knew he wouldn’t bother me again. His power and control manipulation relied on someone feeling weak. Although I was still piecing my life back together and would always carry scars from what happened, Bruce’s hold on me was over.
I couldn’t erase the past and how I had stumbled into that mess, but I could shake free of the effect he had on me.
“Dammit!” Lucy exclaimed as she tossed the remaining cards in her hand on the table, casting a barely good-natured glare in Maisie’s direction.
“We know. You hate losing,” Amelia offered dryly.
“You just won the last hand,” Maisie added.
Lucy rolled her eyes. As noted, Lucy hated losing. Maisie was damn good at cards and usually won. Funny thi
ng was, when Lucy did beat Maisie, she was always suspicious Maisie threw the game just to let her win.
We were sitting on stools surrounding the kitchen island at Holly and Nate’s house. Between rounds of cards, we nibbled on snacks and sipped drinks. And talked. There was always plenty of talking. Or rather, gossip.
With a grin, Holly set down a fresh bowl of guacamole before slipping her hips onto the stool beside me. “I won tonight too,” she said with a wink.
Lucy shrugged, already letting go of her most recent loss.
“So, tell us, how are things with Remy?” Holly asked, completely startling me with her abrupt shift in topic.
I had conveniently just dipped a tortilla chip into the guacamole and bought myself a minute while I chewed. I was under no illusions that my friends might have been wondering. Within our tight circle, we generally didn’t consider it gossip to wonder what was up with each other’s love lives, or lack thereof.
Charlie was across from me and caught my eye, a hint of a gleam in hers. She knew Remy had nursed me those days when I was so sick. She also pointed out that perhaps I should let Remy know how I felt because I was worrying too much.
Looking to Holly, I shrugged. “Things are good. He’s due back in another day. The last time I saw him, I was sick, so…” My words trailed off.
Charlie filled in that blank, quite helpfully. “Remy went over and took care of you, made you chicken soup, and called me and made me come over to check to see if your fever was too high.”
Amelia’s brows hitched. “Oh my. That—”
“Sounds serious,” Lucy interjected.
“I heard the same thing. That’s why I was wondering how things were going. I think Remy’s serious about you, and you’d be stupid not to jump all over that. Back when I was in denial about Nate, I tried to think Remy was hot. I couldn’t get it to be anything other than superficial. I mean, he is hot, but not that way for me,” Holly explained, her brown eyes knowing as she looked at me.