Caitlin arched her back, growing more distressed, and Erin’s concern grew. She pulled her phone out and did a quick search of fevers in babies, hoping to find something. Everything she read recommended medication and tepid baths.
Caitlin’s cries became more frantic.
Should she bring her to the hospital? What if it was nothing?
Erin closed the browser on her phone and went to her contacts. Maybe Vic would know how to get a hold of Lauren. She dialed the number, holding Caitlin close, walking back and forth and growing more anxious with each step.
“Hello, this is Vic’s phone, but it’s Dean talking.”
Erin’s heart jumped into her throat. “Um...this is Erin...” She was disappointed how the simple sound of his voice could send her into a tailspin. “I need to talk to Lauren.”
“She’s not here. She and Vic went out and Vic left his phone behind.”
“She’s not answering her phone,” Erin said, unable to keep the fear out of her voice.
“Are you okay? You sound worried.”
“I’m fine. It...it’s Caitlin.”
“What about her? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s running a fever and I don’t know how bad it is because the thermometer I bought doesn’t register.” She sucked in a quick breath realizing how panicky she sounded. “What kind of mother has a malfunctioning thermometer?”
“A mother who just moved and is probably still unpacking,” Dean said.
His words made her feel better about herself. Just a little. “But still—”
“Are you at home? Do you want me to bring you to the doctor?”
“I don’t know what to do.” And for the first time since she had moved into this house located on an isolated corner of the ranch she understood her sisters’ concern about her moving here. She should have found a place in town. Closer to the hospital. She was a terrible, selfish mother.
“I could drive myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but if I drive you in you won’t be distracted. Why don’t I come anyway and bring you to the hospital. What do you think of that?”
Erin hesitated. It was a battle between a fear of and a deep yearning for seeing him again.
“I promise I won’t try to kiss you,” he added.
He sounded like he was teasing her, but his voice held a faint edge and she knew it was a response to her reaction to his kiss.
“I can drive myself,” she repeated. But even as she bravely spoke the words she heard the faint tremble in her voice.
And Dean must have heard it, too.
“I’ll be right there,” he said, then ended the call.
Erin held Caitlin close, a mixture of emotions tumbling through her as she set her own phone down.
Dean was coming, after all.
She wanted to see him.
But at the same time, she didn’t.
It’s all for your daughter, she admonished herself.
And somehow that made her feel a bit better.
* * *
The smell of the hospital brought back too many bad memories for Dean.
He fidgeted in the hard leather chair just outside of Emergency, remembering too well the agonizing pain that had ripped through him the last time he was here.
He had been stabilized and from here it had been a speedy ambulance ride to Bozeman where he spent a month, then back here for the long haul of therapy and the slow recovery he had neglected.
Just as he formulated that thought, Mike Sawchuk, the very physiotherapist he’d been avoiding, strode down the hallway, his rubber shoes squeaking on the shining floor.
“Hey, Dean, what brings you here?” Mike stopped by Dean’s chair, his hands shoved in the pockets of his track pants, the overhead lights gleaming off his shaved head. “Do I dare to hope you’re here to make an appointment with me?”
Dean shifted uncomfortably under Mike’s slightly mocking look. “I know I haven’t followed up—”
“For the past couple months,” Mike interrupted. He was grinning, but Dean heard the reprimand in his voice. “You know that you need to keep this up. You’re going to lose mobility if you don’t.”
A myriad of excuses jumped forward, but Dean knew Mike would accept none of them.
“How has the leg been?” Mike asked, dropping into a chair across from him as if he had all the time in the world.
“Actually a bit better. I even went riding the other day.”
“Really? That’s progress.”
While Mike would know about the pain riding caused, he had no idea of the fear. No one did.
Except Erin.
But he had gotten through that, as well.
On a plug horse Erin’s baby could ride.
He dismissed the critical thought. It was still riding. A small step to be sure, but a step.
“But you still have to be careful to make sure you don’t have the wrong muscles overcompensating and causing problems down the road,” Mike said. “I know you can feel like you’re having some success now, but you need a comprehensive program to work all your muscle groups properly.”
“I guess” was all Dean could muster. “I didn’t feel like I was getting anywhere. It seemed pointless.”
“Baby steps, if you’ll pardon the expression.” A hint of frustration entered Mike’s voice. “Building a strong foundation to work off of. I’d like to see you come more often. Give me a chance to show you what can happen. Even though you rode that horse I’m sure it hurt and I’m sure you’re feeling it yet.”
Dean shifted awkwardly in his chair, as if in memory of the pain which kept him from working for a couple of days. He had felt pretty good after riding, but the next day he’d been hurting just as Mike had correctly assumed. He hadn’t called Erin to tell her why he wasn’t coming. He didn’t want to recognize that part of it was the discomfort he felt, but a larger part was her reaction to his kiss.
“So, what do you say? Give me a decent chance to help you get more mobile?”
For some reason the sympathetic looks Erin had given him when he’d tried to get on the horse, when he’d had almost fallen in her living room, dropped into his brain. It still stung and he didn’t want to see that again.
“Let me check my schedule” was all he was giving Mike for now.
“Taking physical therapy doesn’t mean you’re weak,” Mike said, sounding even firmer than he had before. “It means you’re smart.”
Dean nodded at that, thinking of how happy Vic would be if he started therapy again. His brother had been nagging him for months to go back. To get riding again.
And if it made a difference?
Again his thoughts drifted to Erin.
“I’ll call you next week,” he said. “After I talk to my boss.”
“Sounds good.” Mike slapped his knees and then stood. “I can’t fix everything, but I know we can get you walking better than you are now.” Mike patted him on the shoulder, then walked away, whistling. Dean sighed as he watched him leave knowing he was in for a lot of work.
But if it helped?
He saw Mike slow down just as he saw Erin coming out of Emergency, holding Caitlin, wrapped in a light blanket, close to her chest. Mike stopped and seemed to be asking her something. Dean couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it wasn’t hard to miss the appreciative look on Mike’s face. The physiotherapist lifted the blanket and smiled down at Caitlin, which bugged him more than he wanted to admit.
Then Erin laughed, which annoyed him further.
Dean slowly got to his feet, the ache in his muscles a reminder of what Mike had been saying and of his own limitations. He watched Mike saunter off, showcasing the obvious the difference between Dean and a healthier man.
The smile on Erin’s
face when she turned and saw Dean made him feel marginally better. She walked toward him, shifting her purse on her arm.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked, trying not to wince as he straightened out his leg.
“She’s not running high fever. The doc figured it was just a cold, from a virus.” She looked relieved. “But I should stop at the drugstore and pick up some medication and a new thermometer for her. If that’s okay.”
He nodded at her but couldn’t get the sight of her and Mike out of his brain.
“So how do you know Sawchuk?”
“Michael?” Her soft smile didn’t bode well for his own presence of mind. “I remember him from church. He led a Bible study I went to the summers I was here.”
Of course he did, Dean thought, stifling a flash of annoyance.
Seriously, how could he be irritated with a guy who led Bible study? How petty was he?
When it came to Erin, he realized he didn’t like comparing himself to Mike and being found wanting in so many ways.
“He’s a physical therapist in the hospital here,” Dean added, trying to be generous.
“I remember him talking about that,” Erin said. Caitlin was crying again and Erin shot her daughter a look of concern.
“We should probably get that medicine for her,” Dean offered.
“Yeah. I think so.” As they walked toward the entrance, Erin slowed her steps to match Dean’s—adding another layer to his insecurity—and put her hand on his arm. “Thanks so much for bringing me. I feel a bit foolish, seeing as how it was really nothing important, but I’m much more at ease now that she’s seen the doctor.”
“Then I’m glad I could help,” he said, trying not to read more into her gentle touch than simple gratitude.
But as they walked together back to his truck he knew his feelings for Erin were becoming more difficult to sort out the more time he spent with her.
Chapter Ten
The gathering dusk closing in created a tiny cocoon in the cab of Dean’s truck.
The radio played country music, a quiet counterpoint to the hum of the tires on the pavement and the faint snuffling coming from Caitlin tucked in her seat in the back. Dean had kindly waited while Erin opened the baby medicine they had just bought and gave some to Caitlin right away. It seemed to be working because she had stopped fussing about ten minutes ago.
“I think she’s settling,” Dean was saying, shooting a glance across the darkening cab.
The lights from the dashboard threw his features into interesting hollows and crags, highlighting how good-looking he really was.
Erin felt a curl of appreciation as he looked back to the road again. She had always thought he was attractive, but time had matured him and made him more handsome.
“Thanks again for driving me and for taking me to the pharmacy,” she said, relieved now that they were on their way back home and she knew Caitlin was okay.
“I wasn’t that busy anyhow. I was just glad I answered Vic’s phone when I did.”
“Me, too.”
They rode in silence for a few more miles, Erin clutching her purse and the bag from the pharmacy, feeling suddenly tongue-tied and shy.
He’d had the ability to do this to her in the past, but now her reticence was because of her shifting emotions. Bringing her and Caitlin to the hospital meant more to her than she wanted to acknowledge. It was what a friend did and thinking of Dean as a friend was disconcerting.
Dean reached over and turned the music up and it filled the silence hanging between them for the rest of the way to her place.
When they got to the house he turned the truck off and got out. Erin managed to get Caitlin’s car seat out of the clips that held it secure and then Dean was beside her.
“Let me take something,” he said, indicating her purse and the bags she was trying to juggle. While they were at the pharmacy she’d bought some diapers and a few other baby supplies.
She wanted to protest that she could manage, but it was nice to have help so she handed Dean the bags and she took her purse and the car seat.
Erin couldn’t help the twinge of embarrassment she felt when she turned on a light and looked over her house. Her computer sat on the coffee table with a few rough sketches torn out of her sketchpad beside it. A basket of laundry, waiting to be folded, was pushed up against the couch. Dishes sat piled up on the counter in the kitchen and her blender, still rimed with leftover smoothie, sat in the sink.
“Sorry about the mess,” she murmured as she carried Caitlin into the living room.
“Looks cozy,” Dean said following her, bags rustling as he laid them on the kitchen table. “Lived-in.”
Erin set the car seat on the floor and her daughter immediately expressed her displeasure. She quickly undid the buckles, laying the back of her hand against Caitlin’s forehead as she slowly settled. Still warm but not as bad as before.
She was about to take her out of the car seat when her cell phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the number. It was the client she had been wooing for the past half year. A small publishing company that had just started up and was looking for someone to do marketing materials for them.
Caitlin started complaining just as she connected to take the call.
She answered the phone, fumbling one-handed with the clasp on Caitlin’s car seat. “Hello, Erin McCauley here,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.
“So glad we could finally connect,” an unfamiliar voice said on the other end, speaking so loudly Erin had to hold the phone away from her ear. “Do you have some time to talk?”
She didn’t really, she thought as Caitlin began crying again, but she wasn’t about to tell a prospective client that.
Then Dean was beside her, brushing her hands gently away, motioning for her to take the call somewhere else. Erin shook her head, but he pulled the car seat away, taking the decision out of her hands.
“I’ll take care of her,” he whispered.
Erin was about to protest, but he shooed her away.
So she went into her bedroom to take the call.
* * *
Dean watched as Erin headed toward her bedroom, her phone clamped to her ear. Just before she closed the door behind her she glanced over at him. He gave her a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile.
“So, I guess it’s just you and me for now,” Dean said looking down at Caitlin, who was staring up at him as if wondering who her mother had left her with now.
She looked tiny in the car seat, held in by straps wider than her arms. Then she waved her hands, sticking out her feet, and her mouth curled up in protest. She whimpered and looked like she was about to cry. He guessed she wanted to come out of the car seat.
So he began the complicated task of figuring out how to unbuckle this little mite from the contraption. He fought with the straps, fighting down his frustration. He knew how to throw a double diamond hitch on a packhorse, rig up a running martingale, saddle up a rangy bronc in a metal bucking chute, but this set of straps and buckles confounded him.
“I don’t suppose you can help me out,” he muttered as Caitlin let out another squawk. He didn’t want to interrupt Erin. She had looked so excited when the call had come through and he guessed it had something to do with the work she did from her home.
He looked at the harness from a few angles, trying not to feel pressured by baby’s screwed-up face and flailing arms. He pushed on a button and, yahtzee, there it was. One of the straps came unclipped. Moving quickly now he pulled the other one free and then, finally, lifted a squirming and somewhat upset little girl out of the seat.
She felt so tiny, like she was just a bundle of bones and skin. Other than a puppy, he had never held anything this small.
Not sure what to do, he rocked her slowly, walking over to the couch.
He sat down, swung his legs up and lay back easing out a sigh of relief. He adjusted Caitlin, hoping he didn’t hurt her as he shifted her arms and legs. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, her snuffling cries quieting.
“I got the touch,” he murmured as he felt her melt against him.
She still felt overly warm, but she didn’t appear to be distressed. He wondered if she needed a diaper change but figured mastering the car seat was enough for now.
Caitlin lifted her head and it wobbled as she looked at him, her lips pursed in a perfect cupid’s bow. Her eyes crossed and then her head dropped again, her one hand inching upward. Her minuscule fingers latched onto his shirt and as he snuggled her close he felt a melting in his heart.
How could such a tiny person tug so easily on his soul? And so quickly?
He brushed his cheek over the downy fluff that was her hair, surprised at how sweet she smelled.
He’d never held a baby before, but somehow he felt comfortable with her. Maybe he was better at this than he thought.
She moved a bit, then her breathing became more even and in minutes she was asleep.
Her warmth, the amazing feeling of her in his arms created an unforeseen softness in his heart.
I could get used to this.
But no sooner did that thought slip into his mind than his musings shifted to Erin. She hadn’t exactly encouraged his kiss, but, as he mulled it over for about the hundredth time since it happened, she hadn’t exactly discouraged it, either. And behind that belief crept the vague hope that things were changing between them.
Did he dare allow that?
He looked down at Caitlin now sleeping on his chest, one tiny hand curled up beside her face, her lashes a faint shadow against her round cheek. This little munchkin came with Erin. She was part of the package and an extra responsibility he couldn’t treat lightly.
Could he do this? Could he take this on?
Then she sighed lightly, her fingers twitching, and again a surprising wave of affection came over him. And with that, he had another reason to try to get his mobility back.
The Cowboy's Christmas Baby Page 11