One Week in Your Arms

by Patricia Preston

  Marla heard Noah wheezing as he breathed. “Mrs. Ramos, I need you to take Ella into Room One and undress her down to her underwear. Kevin will be in to take her temperature and get the information we need to make charts for the children.”

  As Mrs. Ramos scooped up Ella and carried her to the exam room, Marla turned to Kevin. “Find out if they have any drug allergies. Ella doesn’t have measles. That’s a scarlet fever rash. Do a rapid strep test on her. I’m sure it’ll be positive.”

  She stroked Noah’s blond curls. “Aren’t you a pretty boy?” Marla motioned for Carson. “Noah, you’re going to go play with Carson for a while.”

  “What?” Carson protested as she handed him the baby. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

  “He’s too sick to be any trouble. I need you to take him to the other exam room, undress him down to his diaper.” She paused, noting Carson’s pale face. “Good grief, you look like I just asked you to shoot yourself.”

  “I’ve never undressed a baby.”

  She stared at him for a moment and grinned. “It’s not much different from undressing a woman.”

  “Then I should be able to manage it without any problems.”

  “I would think so,” she said and Kevin cackled in the background. “I’ll see him as soon as I finish with his sister. Until then, just hold him. He seems very content with you.”

  Noah grasped a fistful of Carson’s black knit shirt as he made himself comfortable against Carson’s chest. Carson cuddled the little boy in his arms.

  “Okay, buddy, I’ll take care of you,” Carson said, and he headed for the second exam room.

  Marla watched him carry the baby into the exam room. Her gaze lingered longer than it should, and she wondered how Carson felt about children. Did he like children? Did he someday plan to have a family of his own? He’d never mentioned wanting a child, and they had been careful when they were together at Royal Oaks.

  But accidents happen.

  Especially when you decide to shower together.

  Chapter 11

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” Carson reassured Noah as they entered the exam room. “Okay? We’re gonna put you on the table and take off your clothes.”

  As soon as Carson tried to set the toddler on the exam table, the protest started. Noah wailed and clung to Carson. He fisted Carson’s shirt in his small hands and tears filled his big blue eyes.

  “All right.” Carson clutched the toddler. “That won’t work. What if we both sit on the table?”

  With Noah in tow, he found a comfortable sitting position on the exam table. He held Noah with his left arm while he untied Noah’s shoes. He frowned as he heard the little boy struggle to cough. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Noah looked up at him. “Choo choo.” Noah pointed to the colorful train appliqué on the front of his shortalls. “Choo choo.”

  “Yeah.” Carson smiled. “That’s a choo choo train. You like trains? Huh?” He unbuttoned the shoulders of the shortalls. “I like trains.”

  Noah patted his hands together and babbled something as Carson managed to ease the outfit off him, along with his socks and sneakers. “That wasn’t hard,” Carson said, pleased Noah hadn’t cried. “You’re such a good boy. I hope when I have a little boy, he’s a good little guy like you.”

  Noah clutched his hand, and Carson wondered what it would be like to have a son. A little boy to hold his hand. He patted Noah’s chubby leg. “I wish I could take you home with me. We’d build a big train.”

  Yes, that was what he and his boy would do. They’d put together a train set. Just like he and his dad had done. “The track would have hills and curves. There’d be a bridge and even a tunnel,” he told Noah. “That would be so much fun. You’d love it.”

  He tucked Noah against his body with his hand splayed on Noah’s bare chest. The toddler was hot to the touch. “You feel like you’ve got a fever, buddy.”

  What kind of asshole would go off on a boating trip when both of his kids were sick?

  Next door, Ella let out a loud wail and Noah squirmed in his arms. “It’s okay. I’m sure whatever is happening to your sister will help her get better.”

  Kevin strode into the room, holding a digital ear thermometer. “Hey,” he greeted them. “How’s it going?”

  “He’s a great kid. How is his sister?”

  “She’ll be all right. Doctor Grant is talking to a pediatrician at the local hospital. She wants both kids seen by a specialist so there’s an ambulance on its way,” Kevin answered and he lifted Noah’s head. “Hey, buddy, this won’t take but a second.”

  Noah coughed and Kevin shook his head. “Over a hundred and two.”

  “That’s pretty high.” Carson patted Noah’s back.

  “Yeah.” Kevin moved to the computer station and started typing. “He’s got some infection going on. Probably has strep like his sister.”

  “Is that what caused the rash?”

  Kevin nodded as he opened a sterile swab. “Scarlet fever used to be rather common. Not so much now because of early treatment and antibiotics.”

  Noah gagged as Kevin swabbed the back of his throat, and started wailing after the procedure was done. Carson rocked Noah in an effort to quiet him.

  “Doctor Grant will be in shortly.” Kevin left with the swab.

  Two minutes later, Marla strolled into the exam room. She wore an oversized white lab coat buttoned over her shorts and top, a stethoscope slung around her neck, and she carried a clipboard. For the most part, she looked professional, except the lab coat only hit her mid-thigh and the damp morning air had curled her hair around her neck.

  She gave Carson a pointed gaze. “What are you doing on the table?”

  He smiled. “I’ve reconsidered your offer to examine me.”

  “Off the table.”

  Carson moved from the table with Noah in his arms and Marla pulled clean table paper over the top of the exam table. “Lay him on the table and hold him there. He’ll probably fuss but I have to check him.”

  She was right. Noah fussed, not loudly. Mostly he whined and fretted as Marla felt his neck and lower abdomen. “You’re such a good boy,” she said in a comforting voice as she took the otoscope and looked in both his ears as well as his throat. She removed the light and frowned as she scribbled on the clipboard.

  “Hold him in a sitting position.” She put on the stethoscope and listened to various spots on Noah’s chest and back. Carson had to catch Noah’s hands as the toddler tried to grab the stethoscope. Carson didn’t like her serious expression as she kept listening to the toddler’s chest.

  “How bad is it?” Carson asked.

  “He’ll need a chest X-ray to rule out pneumonia.

  “He and Ella are both a little dehydrated. The nanny said she couldn’t get either one of them to eat or drink anything this morning.”

  Carson looked up, angry. “The father should be here.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Mrs. Ramos signed the consent forms and she said their father would want them taken to the hospital. I’ve talked to a pediatrician and I’m going to ride over to the hospital with the kids, but we need to find the father.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he answered without hesitation. “Right now.”

  He handed her the baby and jerked his cell phone out of his pocket. “Do you have any information on the father?”

  Marla tapped the computer mouse. “This is what the nanny gave us.”

  Carson glanced at the screen. “Gary Warren. Prick of the year.”

  “Carson.” Marla scolded and Carson glanced up.

  “He won’t do this again.”

  Within a couple of seconds, Carson had the hotel manager, Jacob Damaire, on the phone. “We have a problem,” he began and his voice grew heated as he told Damaire about the children. “I want you to call that police lieutenant. The one who handled some security issues for us last year. Tell him Mr. Warren needs to be found now and brought to the hotel.”


  “Yes, sir,” Damaire said. “Do you have any idea where Mr. Warren might be?”

  “On a boat is all I know. Have his room checked to see if you can find any brochures,” he said. He gave Damaire the telephone number listed. “The nanny hasn’t been able to reach him by phone. And get in touch with Maili,” he said, referring to the local attorney whose firm handled legal matters for the hotel.

  “Have him meet us in your office in thirty minutes. I want to do a legal review and make certain all our obligations involving the emergency treatment of these children in the infirmary have been met.”

  Carson ended the call with Damaire and made another one to Jim Nolan, who was the chief financial officer of his company. “Hey, Jim,” he said. “It’s Carson.”

  “I heard you were in Kauai. Having a good time?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Carson answered. “Listen, I hate to call you on the weekend, but I need a favor.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “When you get time today, I need you to check out an investment company.” Carson looked at the computer screen and read off the name and location of the company where Gary Warren worked. “I need to know who owns that company and how I can get in touch with them.”

  “I’ll text you the info.”

  “Thanks.” Carson ended the call with the confident smile of a man who knew he had his adversary beaten. He never played to lose. He glanced at Marla, who stood beside the exam bed, her face ashen as if his actions had frightened her.

  In an unsteady voice, she said, “Sometimes, parents don’t realize how sick their kids are.”

  “He won’t make that mistake again.” Carson took Noah from her. “I don’t have any respect for a man who neglects his kids. They don’t ask to be born, but once they are, a man has an obligation to take care of them.”

  Kevin came into the exam room, leading Ella by the hand. “See. There’s your brother.”

  Ella ran over to Carson. “Noah.”

  Carson stooped down and let Ella give Noah a kiss on the cheek. The little girl gave him a worried look. “Is Noah gonna get a shot?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie.”

  “Carson, give Noah to Kevin and take Ella to the nurses’ station. Get her a lollipop,” Marla said as Kevin handed her a needle and syringe. “We aren’t finished with Noah yet.”

  Reluctantly he handed over the toddler. He couldn’t be a doctor. Not in a thousand years.

  He left the exam room with Ella in his arms. Mrs. Ramos was in the hallway, pacing with a cell phone pressed to her ear as she left a message on Gary Warren’s cell phone. Carson found the bowl of lollipops at the nurses’ desk. He set Ella on the counter beside the bowl and told her to get a lollipop.

  She chose a red one.

  “That’s my favorite, too,” he said, smiling at the little girl with a fiery rash on her face and neck.

  She gave him a humble glance. “Thank you.”

  I’d love to beat some sense into your worthless father.

  When Noah let out a cry, tears formed in Ella’s eyes and Carson lifted her up into his arms. “Noah is okay,” he said. “Sometimes, you have to get shots and medicine when you don’t feel good so you can get better and play all day.”

  “Where’s Daddy?”

  Carson’s heart fractured. “He had to take care of some business, but he’ll be back soon.”

  The wail of an ambulance siren shattered the quiet morning and he handed Ella over to her anxious nanny. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll find their father. Everything will be fine.”

  Two emergency medical technicians pushed a stretcher through the clinic doorway. A large white teddy bear rode on the stretcher. Ella smiled when she saw it.

  Marla and Kevin came out of the exam room with Noah. In a flurry of activity, Marla introduced herself to the paramedics and the two children were seated on the stretcher together. One of the paramedics produced a hand puppet, which delighted the kids while the other one managed to get a small oxygen mask on Noah.

  Marla reached for a notepad on the counter. “This is my phone number.” She scribbled on the paper and handed it to Carson. “Call me when you find Mr. Warren.”

  Carson glanced at the paper. “Am I supposed to be able to read this?”

  “Of course not. I’m a doctor.” She smiled briefly and told him the number.

  “I got it,” he said as the paramedics wheeled the stretcher outside. Mrs. Ramos crossed herself and followed them.

  Marla stopped abruptly on the walkway. “I forgot about Truman and Julia. Give them my apologies,” she said. “Maybe we can meet for dinner?”

  “Sure. I’ll get with them,” he said. “Just do what you have to do for the kids.”

  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”

  As she stepped back, his gaze locked with hers for a moment.

  I was made for loving you.

  “Doctor Grant,” one of the paramedics waved to her. He was ready to close the doors of the ambulance.

  “I’ll call you,” Carson promised. “As soon as I find their father.”

  She nodded and said, “Don’t kill him.”

  Chapter 12

  In the hospital cafeteria, Marla found an empty corner table and claimed it. The lunch rush was over, leaving over half the tables unoccupied as employees returned to work.

  She turned her attention to the compact chicken salad on her plate. Hospital food. She could have waited and had lunch at the hotel where the food would have been prepared by a chef. But it was here, in her own territory, that she felt safe. Hospital food was just fine.

  And today it was comfort food.

  She was thankful that Noah and Ella were doing well. They had been admitted to the pediatric unit, and they were receiving the treatment they needed. The pediatrician had ordered a battery of tests that would provide an accurate picture of Noah and Ella’s health status.

  Their father had arrived at the hospital while she was still in the emergency department with the children. With tears in his eyes, Mr. Warren had apologized for everything, and he had thanked her for taking care of his kids.

  While the kids were in X-ray, she talked with Mr. Warren and she found out he had no extended family. He had been at a loss since the death of his wife. He was struggling to cope with his career and his children. He had stood before her and wept until he shook all over. He told her he had promised Mr. Blackwell he would manage his life better. He didn’t want the children to be taken away from him, and he couldn’t afford to lose his job.

  Carson had put the fear of God in the poor man.

  She tried to be as reassuring as possible and she’d called the hospital social services department to get assistance from a social worker, who could advise Mr. Warren on grief counseling and parenting classes and get him in touch with the appropriate agencies in his hometown.

  “Sometimes things happen for the best,” she had told Mr. Warren. “What happened today may be the beginning of a new life for you.”

  It was always so easy to mete out encouragement and positive affirmations. But not so easy to apply it to your own life.

  Carson had put the fear of God in her, too. He had been brutal in his judgment of a man he considered an unfit father, and that had sent a jolt of terror through her heart. She really had never pictured him as being that sort of man or having such strong convictions when it came to fatherhood.

  She could not bear to speculate on how he would react if he found out about Sophie.

  On the other hand, Carson’s concern for the welfare of two little kids had melted her heart. He had called her a couple of times to check on the children, and he’d had a baby doll and wooden train delivered to Noah and Ella. She wished he could have been there and seen their faces light up.

  Her phone played a merry little jingle, which brought an instant smile to her face. It was Carson again. Get a hold of yourself. Every time he calls, you lose it.

  “Hi.” She managed a calm voice. After
all, she’d taken drama in high school.

  “How are the kids?” Carson asked.

  “They’re much better,” she said. “No fever and they have both eaten.”

  “Is their father still there with them?”

  “Oh, yes.” She took a sip of her water. Mr. Warren knew better than to leave. “He’s with the kids, along with the nanny.”

  “Good.” Carson sounded satisfied.

  “Are you still playing golf?”

  “We’re out here doing something, but I don’t know if you call it golf.”

  She heard Truman in the background. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Julia should be there shortly,” Carson said. While Carson and Truman played golf, she and Julia were going shopping and sightseeing. “Tomorrow we’ll take a helicopter tour of the island and go to Hanalei Beach. Sound okay?”

  “Yeah. It sounds great.” She smiled. It sounded like they were on a real vacation, but they weren’t. “Any progress on your plans for the art center?”

  “It’s not coming along as well as I had hoped.” He explained to her that he was going to have to revise the project and she noticed the dejected tone in his voice. “I know Truman’s right. I’ve been thinking about it, and it is probably too large scale to be profitable.”

  “What are your options?”

  “Make it smaller,” he said. “Truman called a land developer that wheels and deals with property in Texas. He’ll be here Monday. Maybe we can work something out.”

  “I hope so.” She knew he had his heart set on building the art center, and she did hope someday he could make it a reality. For himself and his mother.

  “Well, I’ve got to go try to knock a ball into a hole,” he said. “See you at dinner.”

  His final remark lingered in her mind as she finished her lunch. See you at dinner. It was a remark that a husband would say to a wife at the end of a conversation. She couldn’t let herself go there. The moment she got that cozy, she’d be lost.

  She decided to assign a ringtone to Carson’s number. She chose an old classic, “What’s Love Got To Do With It” by Tina Turner. She smiled. Perfect.