A Nanny for the Cowboy

by Roxann Delaney

  He stepped back, giving her plenty of space to step out of the room and close the door behind her. “I hate to bother you,” he said, “but I thought you might be late if I didn’t.”

  His concern made her smile, and when she looked up at him, she noticed again how good-looking he was. “Thank you, Luke. I appreciate it. Really.”

  He shrugged, as if embarrassed by her thanks, and moved away.

  She followed him to the kitchen, where Brayden sat in his seat, his eyes bright when he looked up at her.

  “Did you have fun with your daddy today?” she asked, taking a seat at the counter.

  “Fun,” he said, and then looked at Luke. “Da-dee.”

  “He’s talking more, now that you’re here,” Luke said.

  “And doing a good job of it,” she agreed, laughing. Glancing at Brayden, she noticed his cheeks were pink with what she guessed was excitement, and she wondered if he might be a little tired. “Did he take a nap?”

  Luke settled at the end of the counter. “Two. A short one this morning before we went into Desperation for lunch, then he slept all the way home from Edmond.”

  She listened to Brayden’s sometimes nonsensical jabber and watched how he interacted with his dad. They’d both obviously enjoyed spending the day together.

  Standing, Luke put his hand on Brayden’s shoulder. “Until these last few days, I never realized how much I missed spending time with him.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she replied, looking from one to the other. “Maybe you can do it more often.”

  “We’re going to try, aren’t we, buddy?” he asked his son. He turned to Hayley. “It’s getting late. You might want to get on the road.”

  A quick look at her watch, and Hayley jumped to her feet. “You’re right. I need to change and get going.”

  But Brayden shouted, “No go!”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Luke said, as Hayley hurried to her room. “She’ll be back later. Remember?”

  As she hurried to change her clothes to something more appropriate for her class, she could hear that Brayden wasn’t at all willing to let her go or tell her good-night, but there wasn’t time to calm him before leaving. As it was, she was going to have to hurry if she wanted to make her class. And this time it was her own fault, not Luke’s.

  Grabbing her books and purse, she hurried out of her room and found Luke trying to interest Brayden in his toys. It was plain to see it wasn’t working, as Brayden tossed one toy after another across the room.

  Even though she was in a rush, Hayley stopped to give Brayden a hug. But instead of calming him, as she hoped it might, he howled his displeasure that she was leaving and attached himself to her legs.

  “Brayden, honey, I’ll be back,” she assured him. “I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning, just like always.”

  But Brayden didn’t give up the stranglehold he had on her legs, even when she tickled his most ticklish spot where his neck met his shoulder. “No go!”

  “Maybe I can get him to let go,” Luke said, reaching for his son.

  “No, let me talk to him. If that doesn’t work...” She paused with a shrug. She wished she had more time, but if she didn’t get out the door soon, she’d be late, and two times could be disastrous.

  Tossing her books and bag aside, she managed to lower herself to one knee. Obviously sensing that she couldn’t skip out on him while she was kneeling, Brayden loosened his grip. Hayley scooped him into her arms and held him.

  “You’ve had such a fun day with your daddy,” she said, keeping her voice low, “and I know you don’t want me to go. Sometimes you don’t like it when your daddy leaves, either, right?”

  With a tearful sniff, Brayden nodded.

  “He always comes back, doesn’t he?” He nodded again, and she hurried to make her point. “I need to leave to go to school, but I’ll be back before you wake up in the morning, and we’ll plan something extra fun to do.”

  “How about our Saturday trip to the Chick-a-Lick?” Luke suggested. When Brayden nodded again, Luke glanced at Hayley. “If you don’t mind,” he added.

  Hayley managed to straighten, and with Brayden’s grip loosened, Luke was able to ease him away from her. “I can’t wait to go to the Chick-a-Lick with you tomorrow!” She grabbed her books and bag, then walked backward toward the doorway. But when she turned for the door, she could hear Brayden’s wails behind her. Her heart broke, but she couldn’t stop.

  Once she was in her car and on her way, she convinced herself not to worry and that Brayden was doing fine. She was just entering the outskirts of Oklahoma City when she realized he’d felt a bit warmer than usual. Of course, he’d spent the day with his dad, something he didn’t get to do as much as he had in the past, so she had to take that into consideration. But as she drove on into the city, she remembered how bright his eyes and pink his cheeks had been at supper, and she wondered if he might have a temperature.

  Waiting until she reached the parking lot of the building where her class was held, she reached into her purse for her cell phone to call Luke. But her phone was missing. Frustrated and running late, she did a quick search of the interior of her car, but came up empty-handed. There was nothing she could do. As soon as class was over and she was back at the ranch, she would check on Brayden. Until then, all she could do was hope Luke would notice and do whatever was needed.

  * * *

  “WHY DID I EVER THINK raising a kid would be easy?”

  Luke, on his hands and knees and with sponge in hand, mopped up what looked like a gallon or two of water on the floor of the upstairs bathroom. He not only had a mess to clean up, but he’d had an evening he hoped he’d soon forget.

  The second that Hayley was out the door and on her way to class, Brayden had thrown the mother of all tantrums. After realizing that shouting at his son didn’t do any good, not even to get the child’s attention, Luke tried everything he could think of to get him to calm down. In the end, Brayden had given in to exhaustion. And then came bath time.

  As he mopped up the mess, Luke thought back to the days immediately following Brayden’s birth. Kendra had changed over the course of her pregnancy, from a misty-eyed bride to a woman Luke had barely recognized. Between the weight gain and the morning sickness, all she seemed to talk about was how much she looked forward to her baby’s birth—when she could get back to normal again. Luke had chalked it up to pregnancy hormones. He’d been wrong. By the time Brayden was six months old, Kendra had left and filed for divorce, giving him sole custody of their son.

  His attitude toward his ex-wife had changed, and he tried not to let his son see it. He knew Brayden had missed the mothering that babies needed, and he continued to try to fill in for that, although it hadn’t been easy.

  Brayden had taken to Hayley almost instantly, and for that Luke was grateful. But in the back of his mind he feared the inevitable. One day, maybe soon, Hayley would leave, and not just to attend a class, but forever. He didn’t want to think what that would do to his son.

  Or to him.

  Shaking the worrisome thought from his mind, he stood and surveyed the floor. It was still damp, but there wasn’t a puddle in sight and it would soon be completely dry. A quick glance at his watch told him that Brayden had been quiet for at least fifteen minutes and had probably fallen asleep. Still, checking on him would be a good idea.

  He’d just stepped out of the bathroom when his cell phone vibrated in his back pocket. Pulling it
out, he saw that his sister was the caller. Surprised, he pushed the talk button.

  “Hey, Erin.”

  “Can you tell me what’s up with Dylan? He called a few minutes ago to ask about my schedule. When has my schedule ever been of interest to him?”

  Luke wasn’t sure exactly how to answer. “What did he say?”

  Erin let out an obviously frustrated sigh. “He just wanted to know about my schedule. I told you.”

  “Maybe he’s taken an interest in your riding?”

  “Sure,” she answered, her voice filled with sarcasm. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? Now what’s going on?”

  Luke knew he didn’t have a choice. “He’s having a rough time.”

  “About what?”

  He hesitated. Erin had never been able to accept their brother’s yearly escapes, and he suspected she had been more affected by their parents’ deaths than she let on. “You know. It probably has something to do with the accident. Spring is coming on and—”

  “It’s been fifteen years,” she said, as if that would be the end of the subject.

  He suddenly realized that she knew exactly how long it had been. It would have taken a quick calculation for him to come up with exactly how long ago their parents had died, but his brother and his sister were both fully aware of the exact length of time.

  “He’s taking some time off,” he admitted.

  “Again? How long this time?”

  “I don’t know, but my guess would be a substantial amount.”

  After a short silence, she asked, “Do you think he wanted to know my schedule so he could catch up with me? Is that it?”

  “I don’t know, Erin, but would it be such a bad thing if he did?”

  This time the silence lasted a little longer. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t. But how are you going to handle all the ranch work?”

  He moved to lean back against the wall and switched the phone to his other ear, giving him time to form the best answer. “I’ll hire some help if I need to.”

  “Seems like a waste, but I guess if he needs time off, it’s the only thing to do. I still don’t see why he needs to talk to me, though.”

  “I guess he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

  “Yeah, maybe. When is he leaving?”

  Seeing no other way out than to tell her everything he knew, he quickly gave her a rundown of what Dylan had told him. “That’s all I know.”

  With little more to say, Erin said goodbye, and Luke heaved a sigh of relief. He pocketed his phone and walked into the semidarkness of Brayden’s room. The small night-light cast shadows against the wall as he adjusted his sleeping son’s blankets. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, his lips touched hot skin.

  Brayden was sick. And if the heat radiating from the little guy was any indication, he was burning with fever.

  Hurrying to the bathroom where he hoped he could find a thermometer, Luke felt his heart pound. Shortly after Kendra had left, Brayden had gotten sick. His fever had shot up and he’d suffered a seizure. Doc Priller, who was still practicing at the time, had told Luke that at Brayden’s age, it wasn’t unheard of. All he knew now was that if his son had a fever, it was serious, and his hands fumbled as he searched through the medicine cabinet.

  Finally finding the thermometer, he pulled it from its case and pushed the button to turn it on. Nothing happened. Of all the times for the battery to be dead, why did it have to be when there was an emergency?

  Sprinting down the stairs, he hoped there might be a spare in the downstairs bathroom, but all he found there were Hayley’s things, tucked away in the medicine cabinet, out of sight.

  Before panic set in, he gained control. There was fever reducing medicine upstairs. He’d seen it while looking for the thermometer. Even if he didn’t know how high Brayden’s temperature was, he could still get started on bringing it down, before he called the doctor.

  He’d almost reached the top of the stairs when he heard a sound and then Hayley calling to him. He groaned with the feeling of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to worry alone.

  * * *

  “HE’S DEFINITELY A sick little guy,” Hayley whispered, leaning over Brayden, whose cheeks were bright pink from the fever. “Did you take his temperature?”

  “The battery in the thermometer must be dead. It wouldn’t turn on.”

  She moved to reach for the bag she’d grabbed from her room and pulled a thermometer from it. “This checks the tympanic membrane temperature,” she explained, “and is a lot quicker than others.”

  “Is it accurate?”

  She placed the tip in Brayden’s ear. “If used correctly.” Seconds later, it beeped, and she removed it and checked the reading. It was much higher than she’d suspected. “It isn’t good,” she said, looking up at Luke, whose face was pinched with worry.

  “How high?”

  “One hundred three point seven.” She watched as he turned to leave. “Where are you going?”

  “I was on my way to get the fever reducer when you came in.”

  “Bring a cool, but not cold, damp cloth, too. Maybe I can start bringing down the fever before the medicine kicks in.”

  While Luke retrieved the needed items, Hayley removed the blankets that were covering Brayden, and then unbuttoned the pajama top he wore. She didn’t want him to get a chill, yet she knew it wasn’t good to keep him bundled up, either.

  As she tried to make the little boy as comfortable as possible, Luke returned and handed her a bottle of acetaminophen and a plastic syringe made for administering liquids to infants. “I’ll warn you. He isn’t going to like this,” Luke said.

  “He doesn’t get a choice,” she answered. “Now prop him up a little bit so I can give him this without it choking him.”

  Luke did as she instructed, and she easily had the medicine in him without even a protest. “He really is sick,” Luke said, his voice filled with concern.

  “Sick enough that he doesn’t know much of what’s going on,” she agreed. “Does he get sick often?”

  “No. Not since he was six months old, when pretty much the same thing happened.”

  Alarmed, she glanced up at him and immediately saw how worried he was. She looked at the little boy lying next to her on the bed, his thick, dark lashes resting on cheeks that were far too pink. “Tell me what happened the last time.”

  “His fever shot up and he had a convulsion.”

  Exactly what she’d feared. “A febrile seizure?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  She pulled her stethoscope from her bag and placed the chest piece on Brayden, listening. She thought she heard rales or a crackling sound in his lungs, but couldn’t be sure.

  “Why do you have that?” he asked, indicating the stethoscope draped around her neck.

  “To check his lungs and make sure this isn’t because of some respiratory bug.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. Why do you have one?”

  “Oh! Well, because I’m a registered nurse and—”

  “You are?”

  “Why, yes. Didn’t I tell you that?”

  “I guess I knew you were going to some kind of medical classes, but I didn’t know what kind.”

  “I’ve already earned my nursing degree. Now I’m studying to be a PA.”

  “Right. A physician’s assistant. You mentioned that. I guess I didn’t know or understand all that.” He glanced down before looki
ng directly at her. “I’m sorry I’ve made it harder for you.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed, watching his son, and she nearly placed her hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but stopped herself. Getting too close to him, whether emotionally or physically wasn’t a good idea. Not now or at any time.

  Worry creased Luke’s face. “What else can we do?”

  She placed the damp cloth on Brayden’s chest. “I’ll check his temperature again in a few minutes to see if it’s starting to go down. If he’s responding to the acetaminophen, we can relax a little.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  The last thing she wanted to do was give him more to worry about, but she felt she couldn’t keep anything from him. While she was pretty certain that what she suspected was moderate dehydration, and a high fever wasn’t life threatening, the previous seizure meant there was really only one thing to do. “You need to call the doctor, Luke.”

  Chapter Seven

  Luke stood, nodding. “I was going to do that when I heard you come in. I’ll have to get the number from downstairs.” His stomach tightened in a knot. Images of the night Brayden had had the seizure came rushing back, and he couldn’t shake them. He’d let down his guard and forgotten that time. Until now.

  He was pretty much convinced Hayley knew what she was doing. Even he knew Brayden was inching toward danger. He should’ve seen it earlier. Brayden hadn’t been nearly as active as usual. He’d been happy to play with his toys and had definitely not wanted Hayley to leave for her class. A good father would have known. He still had a lot to learn.

  Grabbing the cordless phone in the kitchen with one hand, he pulled the list of emergency numbers from the drawer beneath it, then punched in Tucker O’Brien’s number.

  It was late, but not too late, and Tucker answered. “Hey, Luke, what can I do for you?”

  “Is Paige there?” Luke answered, starting up the stairs. “Brayden’s sick.”

  “Hang on,” Tucker said. “She’s right here.”